<a class="proll" href="https://shop.Writing.Com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo">L&#39;aura del Campo

Harlow Flick, Right Fielder

Apr 22, 2025 at 11:37pm
In response to "Quiet after the storms "

Harlow Flick, Right Fielder I tried to take an abstraction and ground it (in concrete?).

Thanks for reading.

Apr 22, 2025 at 12:15pm
In response to "Quiet after the storms "

Atmospheric. Well done.

I particularly like the first stanza.

Katya the Poet

Apr 18, 2025 at 8:50am
In response to "As we rot"

Thanks so much for this poem, and for sharing the story of the dead dog and his beautiful teeth!! (The last line also makes me think of the wolf in the fairy tale Little Red Riding Hood!!) I love the feeling in this, and the praise, and the brevity and the long EE of "teeth" in the last line, making me smile.

Apr 13, 2025 at 12:32pm
In response to "Quiet after the storms "

Joy Oh, I love the bittersweet or dark-and-light although this has more dark.

1 Like

Joy

Apr 13, 2025 at 11:34am
In response to "Quiet after the storms "

Very effective lines even with--or maybe because of--the grim in them.

Apr 9, 2025 at 8:57pm
In response to "On a green day"

Cappucine I'll bow to "strangely beautiful".

I just went with the flow. Could use a minor edit but I'm happy that you like it.

Cappucine

Apr 9, 2025 at 8:19pm
In response to "On a green day"

This is strangely beautiful. Thank you for the note about Thailand - I am happy to know this!

Joy

Apr 9, 2025 at 1:56pm
In response to "Make up your mind, Spot! "

Congrats!

I didn't think it was silly, though! I rather thought you were a genius of description.

1 Like

Apr 9, 2025 at 1:43pm
In response to "October Blues"

winklett Thank you. Any emotional response is good imho. At my age, and in my situation, I'm surrounded by echoes and embers. Reality is heartless; the Past slips away; the shore of the Future — shrouded in fog.

September 6, 2020 at 8:30pm

#992587

Libra [218a] 20σ

Libra

known for poems
on eclectic topics
—such as sex or stars— he
scribbles 'peaches'

20 syllables: 4/6/6/4

© Kåre Enga [175.218a] (6.september.2020)

For:

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#2162300 by Not Available.

Note to self:

24 syllable:

Mid May [218b]

Eclectric trek:
  plane to Oslo,
    train to Bodø,
      ferry to Moskenes,
        no bus to Å?
I walk.

22 syllable (cinquain):

Eclectric trek [218c]

I plane
to Oslo, train
to Bodø, ferry to
Moskenes, but no bus to Å?
I walk.

September 6, 2020 at 5:43pm

#992575

2020/2020 [220]

2020/2020

Seeing double

looking forward
looking back

we wrap ourselves in golden pasts
we try to grasp a shiny future

and begin to argue
as fights break out.

Is this the best of times?
It's very bad times

a year of utter chaos

no winners anywhere.

Can you see clearly now —
the smoke has cleared

and what remains?
Just the dead and dying.

© Kåre Enga [177.220] (6.september.2020)

15 lines free verse (free wurst?)

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A Week of Poetic Craziness
#2133562 by Jayne

PROMPT: Write a poem about seeing 2020 off. Will you send it away with a bang or a whimper? Is it dependent on something external? Maybe 2020 hasn't bothered you all that much. That's fair, too.

104.557

September 5, 2020 at 9:12pm

#992499

I, Spaghetti [217] 20σ

I, Spaghetti

Flacid noodle —
pine-smoked, sun-burnt —
toadstool-sauced, now supine —
staring at the ceiling.

© Kåre Enga [177.217] (5.september.2020)

20σ: 4 lines 4/4/6/6, free verse
Prompt: supine: lying face upward, offering no resistance

For:

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Redaction song [216] (won)

September 5, 2020 at 8:32pm

#992496

Won 1st place

Redaction song

“This is not war. It is the ending of the world."

A dancer —

clean white cotton kurta,
metallic ghungroo around his ankles,
jingling as he moves.

think —

human connection,
tradition, cultural identity,
stability.

Ropes
begin to move,
pulling away life — chairs, tables.
Lights flicker.

Ghungroo
transform into bells
shaped into bullets.
become more.

words drift
across the stage:
music transforms, an industrial
crescendo of percussion

Stage blackens,
the light revealing
floating beings
in despair

made aware
of the futility
of resisting — the descent into chaos,
already sobbing.

© Kåre Enga [177.216] (6.september.2020)

28 lines

Blocked out text x'd, quote used in bold.

A dancer, in Indian classical Kathak style, appears on the stage and enters into a corporeal conversation with the seated vocalist and percussionist. He wears a clean white cotton kurta, metallic ghungroo around his ankles, jingling as he moves. Watching, you think of human connection, tradition, cultural identity, stability.

But the idyllic scene quickly transforms. Ropes hitherto leaning innocuously against the high, backwards-angled wall begin to move, slowly pulling away the few objects of “civilised” life — chairs, tables. Lights hanging over the stage flicker. The ghungroo transform into bandoliers, bells shaped into bullets.

The dancer’s moves become more contemporary, while foreboding words drift across the stage: “This is not war. It is the ending of the world.” The music too transforms, now an intense relentless industrial crescendo of violin, double bass, percussion, saxophone.

The stage blackens, the only light revealing the musicians on a platform above, as if floating ethereal beings in despair of what is to come. You are made acutely aware of the futility of resisting the imminent descent into chaos. I am transfixed, and already sobbing.

For:

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A Week of Poetic Craziness
#2133562 by Jayne

First place:

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September 4, 2020 at 8:27pm

#992395

Eluvium [215]

Eluvium

Say skree—
say waterfall—
but gentler—

I am going nowhere,
just falling from a height
to weather here.

See rock,
see stone,
see crystals

glinting back at you.

Say you saw my face on the mountain top.
Say you see me now.

I'm everywhere you look

if you look hard enough—
or soft enough—
or long enough—

I'm going nowhere.

© Kåre Enga [177.215] (4.september.2020)

17 line free verse

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A Week of Poetic Craziness
#2133562 by Jayne

Soil Science: E Horizon This eluviation (leaching) layer is light in
color; this layer is beneath the A Horizon and above
the B Horizon. It is made up mostly of sand and silt,
having lost most of its minerals and clay as water
drips through the soil (in the process of eluviation).

In geology, eluvium or eluvial deposits are those geological deposits and soils that are derived by in situ weathering or weathering plus gravitational movement or accumulation.

Alluvium (from the Latin alluvius, from alluere, "to wash against") is loose, unconsolidated (not cemented together into a solid rock) soil or sediment that has been eroded, reshaped by water in some form, and redeposited in a non-marine setting. Alluvium is typically made up of a variety of materials, including fine particles of silt and clay and larger particles of sand and gravel. When this loose alluvial material is deposited or cemented into a lithological unit, or lithified, it is called an alluvial deposit.

104.535

Garden of One Thousand Buddhas [214] 20σ

September 4, 2020 at 7:39pm

#992388

Garden of One Thousand Buddhas

This womb-between-mountains'
numinous kin,
one thousand stone buddhas,
invite us in.

© Kåre Enga [177.214] (4.september.2020)

20σ: 10/10 rhyming couplet or broken into 6/4/6/4. No idea which is better.

Numinous: adjective: evincing the presence of a deity
Example: "A numinous wood"

For:

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#2162300 by Not Available.

The Garden of One Thousand Buddhas is in Arlee, Montana, just north of where I live. Notes: could be expanded with more couplets to honor my friend Joyce Chicoine (1930-2020) who loved this place. Due to the pandemic we did not gather on her birthday, July 8th, to spread her ashes.

September 3, 2020 at 6:25pm

#992294

September frost [212]

September frost

Alone on the 4th waiting for the clock to sound:
4 bells, 4 chimes, 4 thoughts that toll to comfort me.
The number for death and diamonds; how carbon, squeezed
into its ultimate form, shapes the lives we dance
in a shout and a twist. Oh sweet deliverance!
Strip my cold flesh and make of my bones a fossil,
worn on your chest, as warm as I will ever get.

© Kåre Enga [177.212] (4.september.2020)

7 lines (12 syllable alexandrines) free verse

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A Week of Poetic Craziness
#2133562 by Jayne

PROMPT Write a poem about being alone. You MUST use the following words from the song: DIAMOND, SHAPE, TWIST, DELIVERANCE.

September 3, 2020 at 3:40am

#992221

Chant and toss [213] 20σ

Chant and toss

Lavish the lettuce.
Adorn with garlic.
Horseradish dressing!
Make vampires vanish.

© Kåre Enga [177.213] (4.september.2020)

20 syllables: 5/5/5/5 some rhyme and alliteration to hold the tossed salad together.

For:

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Dancing across the waters [211] (25 lines-ish)

September 3, 2020 at 3:24am

#992220

Dancing across the waters

Spring hope

It's a long ways across the waters
too far to swim, too cold, too choppy
too risky for an angel with clipped wings;
he'd dance across it if he could.

Summer mirage

The salt pan shimmers in the heat
as he shimmies to the jungle beat;
a memory, a genetic camouflage,
jeans grinding, sweet-n-salty, indiscreet.

Autumn puddles

A patch quilt in raiment red, green, and gold
and Boy George, by George, twirling to gentle notes,
a hush that ripples across the puddles
on a soft day of rainbows after the storm.

Winter pond

He skates as if his feet know the script,
the cursive tales he inscribes in ice
erased by sun and melt each day; to fly
across this palimpsest his only vice.

Spring hope

He swears he'd dance across the melting
river's roar; once healed he'd surely soar;
another spring, another thousand years;
this too shall pass; he folds his wounded wings.

© Kåre Enga [177.211] (3.september.2020)

25 lines (including seasons) quatrains of around 10 syllables, some rhyme.

PROMPT DANCING IN AN UNUSUAL PLACE - can be literal, metaphoric, surreal, whatever you want.

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#2133562 by Jayne