Search

kafkaestblog

It is a whirlwind in here

Tag

storm

We Saw Three Deer Eating In The Snow Storm

Hearty enough were we two Maritimers out in the heavy, yet soft. snow storm. Heavy enough to dull most sounds. Soft enough to make a cautious walk relatively easy.

And, as we most times do, we paused to look into the gully to see if there were deer. There often are. And, even through the snow, we saw three, a guess being a doe and two offspring. The distance is about two city blocks away, although there are no city blocks. We have seen them there before.

And – as usual – they apparently heard us, as they stopped in their tracks and look. But so did we. So, in a few minutes, they resumed their activity. This time they were under some large trees, munching away on something on the ground. Grass and earth under a tree does not get as covered in snow. The larger deer even nibbled from the branches.

Our scent, in addition to our appearance, was generally obscured by the snow. They did not leave as they usually do.

So, we left them to their meal and their solitude. And the peaceful beauty of the falling snow.

A Howling Winter Storm And Franz Kafka Collide Into Each Other

In Kafka In The Castle, I fill in the ‘missing’ diary entries from Kafka’s real diary. He either did not fill in these days himself, or he destroyed them. There are some estimates that Kafka destroyed 70% – 80% of everything he wrote. 

Franz was a back-to-Nature man, and enjoyed the outdoors, taking many trips to Nature Spas. But even he should have taken refuge from the storm.

**********************

04 December 1917

I imagine the weather experts will howl about today’s storm the way it still howls around our ears.

Their complaints will ring with vindication. Racing unchecked across field and pasture, it strikes with a force I am unaccustomed to in Prague. Ottla was hesitant to let me out into it, but she bundled me into my winter gear, with a scarf just below my eyes.

It was too violent for me to venture far, so I just wandered around the village. I’m sure that if anyone did see me, fingers made circles as they pointed to their heads.

“The Herr Doktor,” they would warn their children. “Do not go after an education like that.”

A Right Howlin’ Nor’easter Aims To Kill On Land And Sea

It’s a right howlin’ Nor’easter
That covers,

And

Engulfs,
The sea and
Partridge Island.


Paw, the cat/kitten

Black as a void
With one white mitten,
Would not even leave
His comfy, blanket-filled
Butter box in front
Of the fire,
To sniff at the door.

I, too, could have refrained
From going out,
For no ship could
Possibly see the Lighthouse
Light

From any distance.
But that’s not why
I take the Monarch’s

Shilling.

Today I looped a rope
To myself
And to the rope
To the Lighthouse.

I trudged,
Bent over
In both directions,
On a walk that took
An extra hour
Each way.

Hand in front of face?
You can’t even see
Moving fingers.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

High Winds And Seas And Whitecaps Smashing On Shore Keeps A Cat At Home

Paw,
The cat/kitten,
Black as storm clouds
With one white mitten,
Made no objection
When I kept him in
Today.
I had put him
In his cage,
And took him
To the door,
Which I opened.
But he hissed,
And looked at me
As if to say,
“Are you nuts?”
So I walked to
The Lighthouse
On my own,
Holding for dear life
To the rope secured
Between both houses.
I marvelled at

The height of the waves,
Attempting to tear
The island
Limb from limb.
I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

A Cat Learns Of Life From A Storm And Snow

If my cat/kitten,
Black as coal,
With one white mitten,
(I call him Paw)

Was not black as coal,
He’d be lost to me,
And to the ages,
In these drifts of snow
Covering Partridge Island,
After the storm,
From down the coast,

That left us so white.
I kept him in while
It raged,
Which he took to kindly.
But I let him loose,
The next afternoon,
Because a cat/kitten
Got to learn the

Ways of the world.
He took to the huge drifts,
Like a fish to water.
And when he tried to
Chase a rabbit,
I laughed myself silly.
And, (I bet),
So did the rabbit.

(I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report} DE BA. UEL

There’s A Storm Coming Up The Coast That Will Give Us A Dose

Tend to a Lighthouse,
On an island,
On the sea,
And you get the feel
And the smell
Of the weather,
Moving toward you.
So,

There’s a blow
Heading this way.
I’ve put up the rope,
Between my house
And the Lighthouse,
To grab onto
Some Jeezly fierce.
And I’ll be carrying
My cat/kitten,
Black as a storm cloud,
With one white mitten,
In his cage.
‘Cause he’s a

Fierce little bugger,
And will go out
Into it
To his
Peril.
He’s been sniffing
The storm,
And the excitement
Consumes him.

(I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}DE BA. UEL

The Storm At Sea Will With Us Be

Some of the ships


Passing Partridge Island,


On their way


To safe harbour,


Have been flying


Storm Flags.


The bad weather is still


Out to sea.


But I can feel it already,


As do the birds and animals.


The crows are agitated,


More so than usual.


Paw, the kitten,


Is too young to


Be let out into sea storms.


I have devised a cage,


With upright wooden slats,


Which


(I am surprised)


He happily jumps in,


So he can take


The salty air.


I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

A Hurricane At Sea Brings Ships To Port

They are a raggle taggle

Fleet of vessels.

Not of the same fleet

Of course,

But members of that fleet

Of vessels

That got caught in

The hurricane at sea.

Which only brought me,

Winds and moderate rain

In my lighthouse

On Partridge Island.

So they limp in,

On this Friday

Day and night,

With no thought of

Beer and food and women

And glorious debauchery,

But rather of sleep

And care

And comfort, that

Is other than carnal.

And to have no

Fear of instant Death,

From one heaving minute

To the next.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

Alison Alexandra And Amanda Ponder A Seaman’s Help For A Storm At Sea

“It is a dark and stormy night.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.”

“But it could be.”

“Could it – if it isn’t?”

“Oh – I think so.”

“Well … maybe – possibly.”

“Oh – think of the possibilities.”

“On such a night?”

“Yes.”

“In such darkness?”

“Yes.”

“With a storm raging.”

“Oh – such a storm.”

“Putting us at the whims of the ocean toss.”

“Tossing our good barque – yes.”

“Will Ellerton save us?”

“Ellerton has his other duties to the safekeeping of the ship.”

“He won’t come knocking with his manly hand upon the door?’

“No.”

“Not to direct us to our lifeboat station?”

“If he comes knock knock knocking with his manly hand upon my door, he won’t find me there.”

“He will get no response to his manly knock?”

“No.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I will be in here with you.”

“On a dark and stormy night?”

“Yes.”

“Then he will come to knock knock knock on my door.”

“Yes. With his manly hand.”

“And will I answer?”

“Will you wish him to join us beneath the covers?”

“Oh – I think so. Do you?”

“Yes – I think so.”

“Then I will answer his manly hand and ask him to come in and he will say that the door is locked and I will say then use your master key and he will ask if I am sure and I will say …”

“What?”

“I will whisper to you for your assent that he is supposed to join us.”

“I will so consent.”

“Then I will most firmly and directly answer that he can come in and he will enter and we will hear the door open and  he will comment about how dark the room is and I will tell him to follow my voice and we will hear him close the door and …”

“What?”

“Won’t you be nervous?”

“I’ll be expectant, which is a positive nervous.”

“Then I will guide him with my voice.”

“What will you say?”

“I’ll ask you for your advice.”

“And what will he think when he hears both of our voices together?”

“He will think he is in heaven.”

“And he will be.”

“Yes.”

“Then I will advise you to tell him that, since there is a storm -“

“On a dark night.”

“Yes – that is, of course, the basis of it – to tell him that he better have his sea legs steady to cross the room so he can firmly handle two damsels in distress.”

“He must be firm?”

“Oh – yes – I think so. As firm as firm can be. Don’t you think that should be his preexisting state?”

“When he reaches the bed?”

“Yes.”

“Then – yes – Yes, I think so also.”

“And we will give him an appropriate welcome and make room for him on the perhaps-not-quite-wide-enough bed and he will say ‘no-no, I think I should be in the middle if I am to tend to you both, and ease your minds about the storm in the night’, and you will say – “

“ – what?”

“Then you will move closer to the edge of the bed and you will say ‘climb over me, Ellerton, for there is now space for you’, and when he carefully climbs across you …”

“ – what?”

“Then you will find out if he is indeed firm as firm can be to handle both of our needs.”

“And if he is?”

“Then you and me will go paper/scissors/rock in the dark to see whose needs are tended to first.”

[Image] https://i.ytimg.com/vi/EGpZwUV7IXs/maxresdefault.jpg

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑