Donnie and Geronimo, youthful warriors

“It was such a dreary day. You looked just as dreary.”
“And that’s why you embraced me? Even though you know I have no tolerance for embraces!”
“Oh, knock off that intolerance crap! You’re just timid, and that human touch created turmoil such as you’ve never felt before.”
“Next thing you’re going to tell me that I love you!”
“Precisely that, you timid fool.”

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2009)

Written around Dreary, Embrace and Timid from 3WW.

Denouement

I edited my story.
Now it's all happy endings.
Everyone's happy about their happy endings.
Even those that died are happy
because they died happy deaths.
How about that.

- Len "Frenchy" Blumfeld

Written for One Single Impression and Denouement.

I dropped it, I dropped it

A tisket, a tasket,
a tiny little basket

You say: What was in it?
I say: A minute

– Leonard “Chaz” Blumfeld

Written for One Single Impression’s dropped and for Totally Optional Prompts’ song lyrics. Alludes, of course, to the Ella Fitzgerald ditty from 1938 which, in turn, alluded to a much older American nursery rhyme.

Paradox

Paradoxically, tolerance must also be intolerant.
It cannot tolerate intolerance.

– Len "All of a Sudden Wise" Blumfeld

Posted for Tolerance at One Single Impression.

Prototype umbrellas

Prototype umbrellas near Castel del Monte in a magic night for Inspire Me Thursday.

Long before umbrellas, long before mysterious Castel del Monte, there were umbrella pines...

Back to near zero

These emotional ups and downs versus one particular person seem to have some regularity.
Intensity and certainty are inevitably followed by increasing uncertainty and doubt ... and then reverse certainty (that it's all artificial heat-up and all too welcome misunderstanding of signals on my part).
But ... there were smiles from her yesterday even though cold had seeped into my emotional feet.

Push

A digitally processed gouache sketch from 2003.
Since the original was mostly green, my initial intention was to use it for the previous green topic. But the scan struck me as boring. While playing around with the tools of digital editing, I arrived at this version, which shows what I'd call a dynamic push. The massive, bulldog-like body on the right – itself receiving a push from the right – is going to collide with the spiky* body on the left. The resulting crash should be interesting...
Now for Inspire Me Thursday's Push.

*Inspired by Santa Maria della Spina in Florence.

Solarized green

View from our window at Villa Valeria in Bari towards the Adriatic Sea.
A late entry for Inspire Me Thursday's Green.

Pigeon TV

The current situation in this office is as dubious as ever.
Should I stay or should I go?
Will I be able to come here much longer or will I be told soon that there no longer is enough work?
Why can't I simply take things as they are "right now", like the pigeons out there on the red tile roof next to the satellite dishes?
Hell, they're not even aware of them being satellite dishes.
The notion of pigeons watching tv and complaining about a shortage of channels suitable for pigeons.
What would they feature? Lots of cooing, lots of diet-related stuff, e.g. best ways to capture worms and edible garbage left on the ground. Reports on enemies. Involuntary sterilisation issues, the trouble with clay eggs that won't hatch.
But I digress...

Back from southern Italy

Vividity

The green hills of
Trulli country in
white spring blossom –
such allure from my
perch in Locorotondo’s
main piazza

– Leonard “Gone Puglia” Blumfeld

Written around allure, perch and vivid from 3WW.

Note
I wrote the poem from memory, i.e. from the memory of looking down onto the green hillscape from the elevated city park in Locorotondo, and had in mind numerous trees in white blossom among the scattered trulli (cute dwellings with cone-shaped roofs typical of that area of southern Italy – see picture below). When I went back to compare with the pictures I'd taken, there were hardly any trees in white blossom. However, there were plenty of such trees in other parts of the area I'd passed through. Memory can be a treacherous thing!