L'aura del Campo

Balls. St. Joseph's Day. Blog Ghosts.

Balls

He twirled in a field of balls,
orange hawkeyes standing at attention between tall blue-stem,
day fading as he slowly fell to the floor of the moss covered rock.
The balls never moved.
But the orange and blue closed up for the night,
waving farewell to his dreams
of snow sifting from nowhere.
Spring had become Summer then Fall
as the first flakes fell on the balls,
yamulkas on marbles, melting by starlight.
By moonlight he rose and slowly
slowly
began to twirl once more.

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L'aura del campo

DEATH of WINTER: 18 'Ala (19 March) 62º.

'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣

Saint Joseph's Day Tables

No one I know will have a Table today. Kansas has its cultural limitations. It's St. Joseph's Day and in Italy, especially Sicily, this is a day to open up the house and welcome everyone in. These three sites cover it well:

http://www.srocco.org/Devotions/StJosephsDayTable.dsp
Great photos and explanations: http://www.initaly.com/regions/sicily/joetabl.htm
Has recipe's and links: http://www.bulin.com/stjoe/sjfeast.html

WRITING

Wrote more for "Laura by moonlight". Have jotted down notes for poems. Just need to write them out.

Recent blog poems now separate items: "Plain cover jacket" , "In search of Iris" , "Crow feathers" , "Like water for chocolate," , "Love-lies-bleeding" , and "Spear" .

Me, my friends and my family

3/17: Nothing like the drunks! So, I'm hanging out in a corner of the coffeehouse ... very few people here. Everyone wants to party and it is spring break so many of the students are gone. Some of the teachers too. Mary and Sue are in London and Maria is off to Costa Rica.

3/18: No one is out and about. The town is a cemetery. This afternoon there was some yelling and shouting as the Jayhawks thrashed Kentucky. But not wild like yesterday ... all day yesterday.

I went across the bridge. I like to take the jaunt on a calm nice dry day. I have bad vertigo but can cross it if I don't have wind and ice to up my anxiety.

The river is muddy and stinky. The ripples were lapping upstream. Must've disturbed a great blue heron. Nothing like those huge wings moving low over the water. Saw henbit and shepherd's purse in bloom. Spring hasn't quite hit the sandy shores where the cottonwoods loom. Found a quiet spot on the boat landing to write a postcard to Gary.

I took an on-line test for 5 factor IPIP. It said I was unusally intense. Is that good, bad, ugly? Also did enneagram this past week. It said I'm a #6, (Advocate: sense of community, stability, security). I thought I was a #4 (Expressive: strong sensitivity). Now I'm confused. One thing's for sure. I'm not a #8 (Leader: willpower, self-confidence).

3/19: Got to the post office but missed the #1 bus; so I took the #2. May go to Topeka on Wednesday. This morning was cloudy, but that's fine. Woke up late and now I'm far far behind. Behind what I'm not quite sure.

Prayer

From the sweet-scented streams of Thine eternity give me to drink, O my God, and of the fruits of the tree of Thy being enable me to taste, O my Hope! From the crystal springs of Thy love suffer me to quaff, O my Glory, and beneath the shadow of Thine everlasting providence let me abide, O my Light!

— Bahá’u’lláh

Excerpt from: http://reference.bahai.org/en/t/c/BP/bp-118.html

WATT'S GNU!

“Linwood Road is a pretty place
Filled with sightly country grace.
But it’s not just a lovely drive,
There’s good food waiting when you arrive.”

This light verse was written by Jeff Coatney. All reviewing/rating aside , he writes for the same reasons most of us do. The difference is that he uses his poetry in ads for his businesses, Phoenix Industries and the New Linwood Café, in Linwood, a small community south of Topeka, Kansas.

Wish I had a small café/reading-room. Dreamed of that the last two days. Lawrence or Missoula would do. Hell, most any place would do.

The link:
http://www2.ljworld.com/news/2007/mar/19/linwood_businessman_uses_lighthearted_p...

IMAGES and RAMBLINGS

In the woods: cottonwood, big, burly, broken; sand and the mushiness of sand; a dank odor of fish; an abandoned camp; the give of the plank 'bridge' across a dry stream bed; the tangle of saplings and vines.

Along the bike path: shepherd's purse and dandelions; horse plops.

In Persephone's window: white blossoms of pepper; blue bell of a morning glory; pale flowers of mint.

The weather is Spring-like and at the moment un-eventful. Still cold and snowy where my family lives in Western New York. In comparison, I saw peach bloosoms here today.

READING

Almost done with Sky by Roderick Townley. It takes place during the jazz/beatnik era of New York City circa 1957.

BLOGVILLE

Ghosts. In cleaning out old entries to make space for new I came across the first comment left by VerySara . She commented on July 25th, 2005 in blog entry "Summer: 10 Kalimat 162 (July 22)" :

This is my first time reading your Blog, and I find it fascinating. I love the way you have set it up, reporting the weather, things that happen, your comments on Roberts and the Ivy leaguers that are now in this regime. This Blog, like the very few poems of yours I have reviewed, is really a pleasure to read. Are you really into astrology?

So although I'll make a copy to hard disk, I think I'm going to leave it here. It would be hard to erase. She was one of the first people here at WDC to leave a comment on my blog. She passed away suddenly on November 12, 2005.

partyof5dj met Celia! I'm so happy I could poop. Of course, I want the entire scoop. He agrees that she's a hoot. Read all about it in: "Invalid Entry" 

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 Kåre Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!
And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish