The washing machine
goes round and round.
In front of it my cat
makes not a sound.
In deepest fascinotion
her head follows the motion.
– Len “Silly Mood” Blumfeld (© 2008)
Goes with the call for ‘round’ literature from BlogFriday. Requires one of the European-style washing machines with the round glass window in front.
This world is so wide that, even if you flitted around and around it, you would never reach the end of it. This blog is a collage of more or less literary and humorous, outlandish or sometimes even serious glimpses at this great wide world.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
The King is dead rumor
It has been said
that the King is not dead.
But why, if that’s true,
hasn’t he sung anything new?
– Leonard “Messenger” Blumfeld (© 2008)
Unsuppressible notes
After a long break another poem in the venerable form of the rumor. Click here for more of/about them.
This was born as an extension of my previous post on current myths – three assorted pieces of modern mythology.
that the King is not dead.
But why, if that’s true,
hasn’t he sung anything new?
– Leonard “Messenger” Blumfeld (© 2008)
Unsuppressible notes
After a long break another poem in the venerable form of the rumor. Click here for more of/about them.
This was born as an extension of my previous post on current myths – three assorted pieces of modern mythology.
April sunshine fib
How
some
sunlight
changes it
all! Tulips brighten,
spirits brighten, life starts playing
in the streets. New love
might wink. Quick,
try and
catch
it.
some
sunlight
changes it
all! Tulips brighten,
spirits brighten, life starts playing
in the streets. New love
might wink. Quick,
try and
catch
it.
– Leonard “Spring Struck” Blumfeld (© 2008)
All of Leonard's fibs
Saturday, April 12, 2008
An envelope
Envelope for a letter to God dictated to me by Annabelle (with some of my suggestions incorporated).
– Leonard Blumfeld
Posted for Inspire Me Thursday's envelope prompt.
Friday, April 11, 2008
I got me a fearless heart
For Sunday Scribblings' #106 – Fearless I'm posting the lyrics of a song by Steve Earle from his outstanding 1986 album Guitar Town. Steve Earle's turbulent life is told by music writer David McGee in his biography Steve Earle: Fearless Heart, Outlaw Poet (2005).
As an amusing aside it may be mentioned that Mr. Earle appears to be quite fearless in matters of the heart not only in song but in real life as well, having been married a total of seven times...
Fearless Heart
Don't you worry bout what you've been told
Cause honey I ain't even close to cold
It's kinda soon to fall in love again
But sometimes the best that you can do is just jump back in
I got me a fearless heart
Strong enough to get you through the scary part
It's been broken many times before
A fearless heart just comes back for more
Folks'll tell you that I'm just no good
But I wouldn't hurt you honey if I could
I can't promise this'll work out right
But it would kill me darlin' if we didn't even try
I admit I fall in love a lot
But I nearly always give it my best shot
I know you must think I'm the reckless kind
But I want a lady with a fearless heart just like mine
– Steve Earle
As an amusing aside it may be mentioned that Mr. Earle appears to be quite fearless in matters of the heart not only in song but in real life as well, having been married a total of seven times...
Fearless Heart
Don't you worry bout what you've been told
Cause honey I ain't even close to cold
It's kinda soon to fall in love again
But sometimes the best that you can do is just jump back in
I got me a fearless heart
Strong enough to get you through the scary part
It's been broken many times before
A fearless heart just comes back for more
Folks'll tell you that I'm just no good
But I wouldn't hurt you honey if I could
I can't promise this'll work out right
But it would kill me darlin' if we didn't even try
I admit I fall in love a lot
But I nearly always give it my best shot
I know you must think I'm the reckless kind
But I want a lady with a fearless heart just like mine
– Steve Earle
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Three assorted pieces of modern mythology
1. The King lives.*
2. Jim Morrison never died.
3. Johnny Winter is a zombie.
Mythology isn't all about things long past - each age has its own myths and mythology.
The theme of Totally Optional Prompts today is mythology, hence this small collection of mythorabilia I pulled out of my mythological hat.
Art by Dustin Parker. For more see Dustin Parker Arts LLC.
* See here.
2. Jim Morrison never died.
3. Johnny Winter is a zombie.
Mythology isn't all about things long past - each age has its own myths and mythology.
The theme of Totally Optional Prompts today is mythology, hence this small collection of mythorabilia I pulled out of my mythological hat.
Art by Dustin Parker. For more see Dustin Parker Arts LLC.
* See here.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Monday, April 7, 2008
The color fib
Red,
white,
blue, green
hue. Yellow,
cinnabar, maroon,
cyan, ocher and pink pink moon.
Anthracite and black,
but there’s im-
minent
li-
lac.
white,
blue, green
hue. Yellow,
cinnabar, maroon,
cyan, ocher and pink pink moon.
Anthracite and black,
but there’s im-
minent
li-
lac.
– Leonard Blumfeld
Colors with admixture of Nick Drake's Pink Moon song and the coming of spring in lilac.
A perfect fit for One Single Impression's "color" prompt.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Back then in ca. 1959
Back then when summers seemed an unending sequence of warm sunny days
When swimming trunks were shapeless and high-hipped
When trash cans were made of zinc-plated metal and held some kind of mystery
Posted for Sunday Scribblings # 105 – The Photograph.
Yep, that's yours truly in the picture. I was too young to recollect what I was doing there – all the memories I have of this vacation in the Black Forest are vicarious. Whatever it was, my father felt compelled to get out his Leica and take this snapshot.
L.B.
When swimming trunks were shapeless and high-hipped
When trash cans were made of zinc-plated metal and held some kind of mystery
Posted for Sunday Scribblings # 105 – The Photograph.
Yep, that's yours truly in the picture. I was too young to recollect what I was doing there – all the memories I have of this vacation in the Black Forest are vicarious. Whatever it was, my father felt compelled to get out his Leica and take this snapshot.
L.B.
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