Any other suggestions?

What should we name the band?

Retards?

Petards, like that old British band?

Or Leetards,

like leotards?

Raise your hands!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

Notes

That came seemingly out of nowhere. I was reading poems by Kenward Elmslie which had nothing to do with music or bands, put the book down, and this minipoem arrived. As I found out slightly later, The Petards was not a British band but a German one, whose lyrics were all in English. The song Lazy Moon above is from 1967.

So one night we did that

Nico and I were walking around in the neighborhood with our cans, around midnight it must have been, looking for a good empty spot to decorate. All we had along that night was white, black, two shades of red and some weird mix of grey and blue. And this is part of what we did on the wall of an open staircase. What's it supposed to mean? Don't know. That's not the point at all. The point is that this ugly grey piece of concrete wall now looks a lot better. Don't you think?

Giacomo – Love For Ever

 

Seven years later, the tattoo was still there, while Giacomo, including her love for him, was long gone. And Jimmy, the new flame, wasn’t too keen on seeing Giacomo around whenever he looked at her arm. Would she really have to have it removed? How long was Jimmy going to last? Frankly, her belief in eternity had been shattered – a bit.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

Notes
Photo art courtesy of AI but based on a true story.

Sub

Oh come to me!
What is sub? the Siberian said
(from what I’d understood
before he was from some place
around Lake Baikal, which,
he’d managed to tell me some-
how, was not only the world’s
oldest but also its deepest lake)

In my incorrigible tendency
to speak the many-faceted truth
whenever called for or uncalled
for, I went into the multiple
meanings of sub – and noticed,
after having said about five
words, that this was overkill
and way beyond what was
wanted or needed

I broke it off, but then added:
– could be short for submarine
– could be short for submarine
sandwich, a sandwich resembling
a submarine
– could be short for substitute,
as in subbing for a teacher who
is sick or absent for some other
reason
– could refer to ...

What was I doing? The
look in the Siberian’s face
was half pain, half wonder,
adding up to full incompre-
hension. Sub, I pointed
at the building across,
and mimicked eating.
He said Is good? Upon
which I nodded. That
should be universal
enough, right? Shook
hands and left.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

Note
The prompt was substitutions, so a teacher would give me an F for this. Oh dear, I have been known to ramble occasionally!

The Original Zengela Band (Kenya)

Pamela by the Original Zengela Band

While going through my CD shelf (yes, I still have tons of CDs), I rediscovered an old treasure I hadn't listened to in years - an album by the East African Original Zengela Band I'd bought on eBay in 2003. The album itself dates from 1997 and was distributed by a German company named p&g media service gmbh in Staufen im Breisgau. 

Nothing much can be found about this band on the Internet - it looks like the CD I have is about the only release there is, even though it seems to have been released several times with different covers.

Anyway - it's great music, and I've been listening to the CD over and over again, particularly while running on the treadmill. There's nothing better to make this rather boring act more exciting than the swinging rhythm produced by this marvelous band. Highly recommendable!

Seems like a repeat

Dogs barking in the back alley
for invisible reasons (as if they
ever needed any),

fan whirring, installing a semblance of cool
in here while the immense summer heat
drags on into September.

While I’m trying to keep my cool
as I’m going through rows and rows
of written materials that would most likely
not be missed had they not been written.

But that’s what ya get paid for, me boy.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

Note
This should be blunt enough not to require any explanation.

Part of Weary Outpourings of a Grump Ground Down by Life and Other Things.

Lonely, strong, nearly symmetrical

 

Thinking back to the days when kids
were running around here,
when cows were mooing, roosters
crowing, dogs barking and cats
meowing – life.

Unlike now when there’s only
mechanical clatter of machines – 
sometimes.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

Note
This was written to accompany the photo, which shows a tree next to the remains of what used to be a farm (Lazio, Italy, southeast of Rome).

Momentary account

   

Rome, July 31, 2024

Burning heat, sometimes
crying of children, howling
of dogs, power cuts.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

Note
Razor-edge-of-time reporting from the climate change front.

No respect, no tears good-bye

 

Discarded technology

Title chosen in variation of lyrics by Tom Rush ("no regrets / no tears good-bye").

Once a means of communication, now a piece of high-tech trash carelessly thrown away. Photographed in Rome, but this could be just about anywhere on the planet.

Mrs. A’s sweet dilemma

“Today I have a slight headache – probably overdid it at the Tutta birthday party ... hmmm ... I think the Lamborghini might be the cure for that. Or not? 
Maybe the Rolls because of its softer springing? 
Where do I have to go anyway? – Ah yes, the golf course to meet hubby. 
It’s going to be so hot there! Thank God there’s a highly effective AC in the clubhouse. 
Which one reflects our status more accurately? – Tell me, dear Sher Singh – Italian or British?”

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2024)

Photo credit
AI - no real people or cars are shown here.