earth: deer tick, cockroach, wood bee, head louse, termite, house fly, ground killer wasp
air: flea, white-faced hornet, pubic crab, fruit fly, horse fly, jumping spider, hover fly
fire: firefly, honey bee, wasp, sweat bee, fire ant, red ant, scorpion
water: skate, diving beetle, mosquito, springtail, noctuid moth, leech, stone fly
Friday, 30 November 2007
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
Finding Common Ground
The things you learn in maturity aren't simple things such acquiring information & skills. You learn not to engage in self destructive behavior. You learn not to burn up energy in anxiety. You discover how to manage your tensions. You learn that self pity & resentment are among the most toxic of drugs. You find that the world loves talent but pays off on character. You come to understand that most people are neither for you nor against you: they are thinking about themselves. You learn that no matter how much you try to please, some people in this world are not going to love you - a lesson that is at first troubling & then really quite relaxing.
-- John W. Gardner
excerpts from my own posts at http://pagannation.com :
Well, okay.
There are a bunch of things here that I don't know or can only guess at and perhaps we agree on some of those?
I don't know how person X is as a mother.
Person B has seen person X with her kids.
My fellow wingnut friend C for whom I feel some affection has not observed Person X with her kids.
I will rely on the observations made by Person B-- that Person X is a good mother to her kids.
And yes, I have to agree it is a low blow to any mother to be accused of poor parenting or things similar or worse.
I don't know how many screws loose any of us have.
Is having one big screw loose worse than having two or three little ones loose? What proportion of big screws to little screws determine the severity of the rattling around of a brain?
Even if any or some or two or all of us do have screws loose, is that germane to the original argument?
Is my not being entirely sure of the original argument an indication of too much caffeine [actually caffeine calms me down] or too little caffeine or
an indication of my own brain injury gone awry from fatigue or
perhaps that I've just stumbled into this forum haphazardly?
I don't remember getting born.
A bunch of other people assure me that I was born.
On earth.
So if they are lying, is there a chance that I am a martian viking transplant?
How do I know?
What are my sources?
How valid are they?
Can they overcome my innate strangeness and sense of otherness?
Or, maybe you think I am a whack shack and in that respect as bad as Alan Webster or should be committed or a funny farm escapee or
any number of things.
Here I have to admit that vingnut, whack shack, mental derangement, screws loose, schizo, hallucinating... are just words to me and rather devoid of meaning or threat.
And if you were to tell me that I need "mental help" of some sort, since you aren't my medical doctor I am free to discount that conclusion while admitting that my posting is off the wall.
Yet if you began calling me a Untied [spelling on purpose] Statsian version of Alan Webster [http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/article787073.ece], I am free to examine the evidence and conclude that there really isn't any evidence for me being an Alan Webster [http://www.guardian.co.uk/crime/article/0,,1793469,00.html] in the making.
As Nathaniel Branden would say [badly paraphrased here] what other people think about me today can never be as important to me as what I know to be true about me.
What I am trying to convey here is that as long as PersonX knows he is not as sick as despised scumbag, not as bad as despised scumbag, not like despised scumbag; and there is no legal evidence that he has ever done things similar to the things despised scumbag has done [shudder],
isn't it more important that PersonY and crew know that he is not despised scumbag, as bad as despised scumbag, or like despised scumbag in respect to that sort of stuff?
This is a forum. It is a lively forum and there are some exciting people here yet it is a forum. Whatever mix of people on this forum may like me, hate me, think ill of me, wish me well, don't have many thoughts about me at all, it is still just a forum.
The sun will more than likely rise and set somewhere in the world at some time tomorrow, my dog will still wish for me to take her for a walk and spend time with her, there will still be laundry to do and bills to pay and frogs for me to feed, and so on.
Marian Zimmer Bradley said, "The world will go on as it will, and not as you or I would have it."
Bowing out now,
spike q. whack shack
***
To practice self-assertiveness is to live authentically, to speak and act from your innermost thoughts and feelings, as a way of life-allowing for the obvious fact that there may be circumstances in which you wisely choose not to do so-for example, when confronted by a hold-up man.
— Nathaniel Branden
My self-respect is not based on how well I defend myself in a public forum
*or on whether or not I choose to defend myself at any given time in a public forum or in real f2f life
*or on people choosing to think less of me because of my choices in this matter.
I don't operate under the same rules or shoulds as you do.
Different strokes for different folks.
Of course it is always acceptable for someone to choose to defend themselves, their reputation, their character, their abilities, their family members...
The operative word here for me is "choice."
There are times when I may deliberately choose not to defend myself. When I choose thusly, it is an active conscious choice. In my own case, my level of self-respect does not dictate my actions or my choices when it comes to arguments and disagreements.
For example, lets' say you or someone here accuses me of being as bad as despised scumbag or a pedohead or another Alan Webster [http://news.independent.co.uk/uk/legal/article752141.ece] or really sick in the head, demented, needing medication, or any other thing. My choice to defend myself or not will be based on several factors.
When I choose to defend myself, my self-respect is not one of the determinants in making that conscious deliberate choice.
When I choose not to defend myself, it is not a sign that my own self-respect is sinking or not existing at a good enough level.
I appreciate that self-respect may be one of the factors for others when they decide to defend their character. It just doesn't weigh when I have to pick which battles I will fight, that's all...
spike
I am a viking vingnut or is that a wiking wingnut
or maybe a ...
***
Of course it is always acceptable for someone to choose to defend themselves, their reputation, their character, their abilities, their family members...
The operative word here for me is "choice."
There are times when I may deliberately choose not to defend myself. When I choose thusly, it is an active conscious choice. In my own case, my level of self-respect does not dictate my actions or my choices when it comes to arguments and disagreements.
For example, lets' say you or someone here accuses me of being as bad as despised scumbag or a pedohead or another Alan Webster [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alan_Webster] or really sick in the head, demented, needing medication, or any other thing. My choice to defend myself or not will be based on several factors.
When I choose to defend myself, my self-respect is not one of the determinants in making that conscious deliberate choice.
When I choose not to defend myself, it is not a sign that my own self-respect is sinking or not existing at a good enough level.
I appreciate that self-respect may be one of the factors for others when they decide to defend their character. It just doesn't weigh [in] when I have to pick which battles I will fight, that's all.
spike
***
My intention was not to call into question Person X's ability to parent and nurture her children.
Nor was my intention to smear or besmirch anyone's character in any way.
Actually, my intention was to find a tiny bit of common ground with you rather than to concentrate on our differences.
Perhaps you or anyone may wish to ask Friend C why she said the things she said. Or not as you choose.
It is not for me to speculate upon the actions of another. For me to guess would be mental masturbation. My brain is battered enough from thinking my way through everyday life.
I endeavor not to engage in sorting people into categories such as [opposing camps]. Usually, I will take people at their word unless there is a preponderance of credible evidence to the contrary.
...The rest of my post did have something to do with all of the name-calling, character assassination, labeling on the parts of many of us here regardless of "sides" and alliances-- and other thoughts and observations that flitted through my head at the time that I was typing it.
As always, you or anyone is free to disregard or to place my name on the iggy collection.
If it don't apply, let it fly.
Kyrra,
spike
***
Your balls don't itch?
I was just about to suggest athlete's foot cream...I don't see why that wouldn't help itching in damp places.
I will duck now.
spike
***
No. I'm saying [that if] you stick your feet on your balls often enough they can suffer from fungus.
Okay now I am really ducking.
spike
***
Warm coffee salve applied to the balls will relieve the itch temporarily.
I read that in a book somewhere.
spike
***
Regarding Person Z's chocolate balls.
No actual balls were harmed in the creation of this treat.
Had they been harmed, we would have told you so...
Actually, his balls are like fluffy bunnies.
They reproduce, however not on this plane.
The chocolate balls have reproduced themselves on an astral parallel plane of existence, thus we are free to offer you Person Z's chocolate balls for loving and gushing without impinging upon the immoral scrutinies of anyone observing us for fear of us becoming a mob of thinkers and doers--
On the second day of solstice, my lover gave to me
two chocolate balls and a...
spike q. chocolate freak
***
Oh goody an assassination.
Two tickets for front row seats please and some popcorn heavily buttered.
Two-four-six-eight!
Who do we assassinate?
Oh what's that? Yuck, no thanks. I don't eat hot dogs and I don't allow my dog to either.
spike
***
Quote: Spike, you have been assassinated!
I have resurrected myself with the help of a holy pot of coffee poured onto my smoldering remains.
*Ta-da*
Never better.
Wow. More muscles even.
And I'm thinner and blonder.
Walking along in the woods by the coliseum, my dog brings back a limb-- looks like a right forearm-- of--
oh no it couldn't be!-- Person R!
Crap! Hey everyone, Person R has been assassinated!
Oh what to do, what to do.
Doggie, put down that limb!
spike
I don't believe that our government has proven itself to be adept at keeping very many secrets secret.
Nope, I don't believe that Bush "ordered" 9/11, plotted it, caused it, was in cahoots on it, or any other thing.
http://www.popularmechanics.com/technology/military_law/1227842.html
http://www.debunking911.com/
http://www.daylightatheism.org/2006/05/loose-marbles-i.html
***
I do not believe that President Bush is a puppet of the Religious Right. There are many assumptions about his specific religious beliefs floating around
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A24634-2004Sep15.html
however, I am personally appalled at some of his policies. There is some evidence for the idea that the agendas of the Religious Right are being pushed through the Senate and Congress in the form of various laws.
http://www.theocracywatch.org/
The folks at Theocracy Watch are based from Cornell U.
Call me reactionary or a crackpot or any other name if you will, I care not.
Bottom line for me is I don't particularly care for what is happening to this country in terms of religiosity and how that effects policy-making.
We disagree on this last I am sure and I for one agree to disagree peaceably.
spike
***
Yep, well-versed on that aspect.
And opinionated too.
I don't happen to believe that Bush is anyone's pawn.
I do believe that the preponderance of evidence points toward the founding fathers [signers of the declaration of independence] were deists rather than christians
and that furthermore, even if the United States was founded as a christian nation, it does not naturally follow that it should remain so today.
spike
***
I like fluffy bunnies coated with shake-n-bake and barbequed.
spike
a wiking wingnut
I hear that coffee is a great anti-fungal...
spike q. fungus
Fungi rule. Pictures of fungi altered make great backgrounds for e-stationary.
***
Okay, I am not a fungus then.
A mold?
I must be a mold.
That's it! I'm a mold.
[spike goes wandering off in the direction of coffee and happy pills]
***
sapphoq on life
-- John W. Gardner
excerpts from my own posts at http://pagannation.com :
Well, okay.
There are a bunch of things here that I don't know or can only guess at and perhaps we agree on some of those?
I don't know how person X is as a mother.
Person B has seen person X with her kids.
My fellow wingnut friend C for whom I feel some affection has not observed Person X with her kids.
I will rely on the observations made by Person B-- that Person X is a good mother to her kids.
And yes, I have to agree it is a low blow to any mother to be accused of poor parenting or things similar or worse.
I don't know how many screws loose any of us have.
Is having one big screw loose worse than having two or three little ones loose? What proportion of big screws to little screws determine the severity of the rattling around of a brain?
Even if any or some or two or all of us do have screws loose, is that germane to the original argument?
Is my not being entirely sure of the original argument an indication of too much caffeine [actually caffeine calms me down] or too little caffeine or
an indication of my own brain injury gone awry from fatigue or
perhaps that I've just stumbled into this forum haphazardly?
I don't remember getting born.
A bunch of other people assure me that I was born.
On earth.
So if they are lying, is there a chance that I am a martian viking transplant?
How do I know?
What are my sources?
How valid are they?
Can they overcome my innate strangeness and sense of otherness?
Or, maybe you think I am a whack shack and in that respect as bad as Alan Webster or should be committed or a funny farm escapee or
any number of things.
Here I have to admit that vingnut, whack shack, mental derangement, screws loose, schizo, hallucinating... are just words to me and rather devoid of meaning or threat.
And if you were to tell me that I need "mental help" of some sort, since you aren't my medical doctor I am free to discount that conclusion while admitting that my posting is off the wall.
Yet if you began calling me a Untied [spelling on purpose] Statsian version of Alan Webster [http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/article787073.ece], I am free to examine the evidence and conclude that there really isn't any evidence for me being an Alan Webster [http://www.guardian.co.uk/crime/article/0,,1793469,00.html] in the making.
As Nathaniel Branden would say [badly paraphrased here] what other people think about me today can never be as important to me as what I know to be true about me.
What I am trying to convey here is that as long as PersonX knows he is not as sick as despised scumbag, not as bad as despised scumbag, not like despised scumbag; and there is no legal evidence that he has ever done things similar to the things despised scumbag has done [shudder],
isn't it more important that PersonY and crew know that he is not despised scumbag, as bad as despised scumbag, or like despised scumbag in respect to that sort of stuff?
This is a forum. It is a lively forum and there are some exciting people here yet it is a forum. Whatever mix of people on this forum may like me, hate me, think ill of me, wish me well, don't have many thoughts about me at all, it is still just a forum.
The sun will more than likely rise and set somewhere in the world at some time tomorrow, my dog will still wish for me to take her for a walk and spend time with her, there will still be laundry to do and bills to pay and frogs for me to feed, and so on.
Marian Zimmer Bradley said, "The world will go on as it will, and not as you or I would have it."
Bowing out now,
spike q. whack shack
***
To practice self-assertiveness is to live authentically, to speak and act from your innermost thoughts and feelings, as a way of life-allowing for the obvious fact that there may be circumstances in which you wisely choose not to do so-for example, when confronted by a hold-up man.
— Nathaniel Branden
*or on whether or not I choose to defend myself at any given time in a public forum or in real f2f life
*or on people choosing to think less of me because of my choices in this matter.
I don't operate under the same rules or shoulds as you do.
Different strokes for different folks.
Of course it is always acceptable for someone to choose to defend themselves, their reputation, their character, their abilities, their family members...
The operative word here for me is "choice."
There are times when I may deliberately choose not to defend myself. When I choose thusly, it is an active conscious choice. In my own case, my level of self-respect does not dictate my actions or my choices when it comes to arguments and disagreements.
For example, lets' say you or someone here accuses me of being as bad as despised scumbag or a pedohead or another Alan Webster [http://news.independent.co.uk/uk/legal/article752141.ece] or really sick in the head, demented, needing medication, or any other thing. My choice to defend myself or not will be based on several factors.
When I choose to defend myself, my self-respect is not one of the determinants in making that conscious deliberate choice.
When I choose not to defend myself, it is not a sign that my own self-respect is sinking or not existing at a good enough level.
I appreciate that self-respect may be one of the factors for others when they decide to defend their character. It just doesn't weigh when I have to pick which battles I will fight, that's all...
spike
I am a viking vingnut or is that a wiking wingnut
or maybe a ...
***
Of course it is always acceptable for someone to choose to defend themselves, their reputation, their character, their abilities, their family members...
The operative word here for me is "choice."
There are times when I may deliberately choose not to defend myself. When I choose thusly, it is an active conscious choice. In my own case, my level of self-respect does not dictate my actions or my choices when it comes to arguments and disagreements.
For example, lets' say you or someone here accuses me of being as bad as despised scumbag or a pedohead or another Alan Webster [ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alan_Webster] or really sick in the head, demented, needing medication, or any other thing. My choice to defend myself or not will be based on several factors.
When I choose to defend myself, my self-respect is not one of the determinants in making that conscious deliberate choice.
When I choose not to defend myself, it is not a sign that my own self-respect is sinking or not existing at a good enough level.
I appreciate that self-respect may be one of the factors for others when they decide to defend their character. It just doesn't weigh [in] when I have to pick which battles I will fight, that's all.
spike
***
My intention was not to call into question Person X's ability to parent and nurture her children.
Nor was my intention to smear or besmirch anyone's character in any way.
Actually, my intention was to find a tiny bit of common ground with you rather than to concentrate on our differences.
Perhaps you or anyone may wish to ask Friend C why she said the things she said. Or not as you choose.
It is not for me to speculate upon the actions of another. For me to guess would be mental masturbation. My brain is battered enough from thinking my way through everyday life.
I endeavor not to engage in sorting people into categories such as [opposing camps]. Usually, I will take people at their word unless there is a preponderance of credible evidence to the contrary.
...The rest of my post did have something to do with all of the name-calling, character assassination, labeling on the parts of many of us here regardless of "sides" and alliances-- and other thoughts and observations that flitted through my head at the time that I was typing it.
As always, you or anyone is free to disregard or to place my name on the iggy collection.
If it don't apply, let it fly.
Kyrra,
spike
***
Your balls don't itch?
I was just about to suggest athlete's foot cream...I don't see why that wouldn't help itching in damp places.
I will duck now.
spike
***
No. I'm saying [that if] you stick your feet on your balls often enough they can suffer from fungus.
Okay now I am really ducking.
spike
***
Warm coffee salve applied to the balls will relieve the itch temporarily.
I read that in a book somewhere.
spike
***
Regarding Person Z's chocolate balls.
No actual balls were harmed in the creation of this treat.
Had they been harmed, we would have told you so...
Actually, his balls are like fluffy bunnies.
They reproduce, however not on this plane.
The chocolate balls have reproduced themselves on an astral parallel plane of existence, thus we are free to offer you Person Z's chocolate balls for loving and gushing without impinging upon the immoral scrutinies of anyone observing us for fear of us becoming a mob of thinkers and doers--
On the second day of solstice, my lover gave to me
two chocolate balls and a...
spike q. chocolate freak
***
Oh goody an assassination.
Two tickets for front row seats please and some popcorn heavily buttered.
Two-four-six-eight!
Who do we assassinate?
Oh what's that? Yuck, no thanks. I don't eat hot dogs and I don't allow my dog to either.
spike
***
Quote: Spike, you have been assassinated!
I have resurrected myself with the help of a holy pot of coffee poured onto my smoldering remains.
*Ta-da*
Never better.
Wow. More muscles even.
And I'm thinner and blonder.
Walking along in the woods by the coliseum, my dog brings back a limb-- looks like a right forearm-- of--
oh no it couldn't be!-- Person R!
Crap! Hey everyone, Person R has been assassinated!
Oh what to do, what to do.
Doggie, put down that limb!
spike
Quote:
Here's how it works:
I just assassinated you! You are now dead. Or you can resurrect yourself and assassinate someone else. All you have to do is just post in the assassination forum this entire post...
Okay, I can't tell you who assassinated me, or I'll lose! So, I have chosen to resurrect myself and assassinate you!
GAME ON!!!
***
I just assassinated you! You are now dead. Or you can resurrect yourself and assassinate someone else. All you have to do is just post in the assassination forum this entire post...
Okay, I can't tell you who assassinated me, or I'll lose! So, I have chosen to resurrect myself and assassinate you!
GAME ON!!!
***
I don't believe that our government has proven itself to be adept at keeping very many secrets secret.
Nope, I don't believe that Bush "ordered" 9/11, plotted it, caused it, was in cahoots on it, or any other thing.
http://www.popularmechanics.com/technology/military_law/1227842.html
http://www.debunking911.com/
http://www.daylightatheism.org/2006/05/loose-marbles-i.html
***
I do not believe that President Bush is a puppet of the Religious Right. There are many assumptions about his specific religious beliefs floating around
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A24634-2004Sep15.html
however, I am personally appalled at some of his policies. There is some evidence for the idea that the agendas of the Religious Right are being pushed through the Senate and Congress in the form of various laws.
http://www.theocracywatch.org/
The folks at Theocracy Watch are based from Cornell U.
Call me reactionary or a crackpot or any other name if you will, I care not.
Bottom line for me is I don't particularly care for what is happening to this country in terms of religiosity and how that effects policy-making.
We disagree on this last I am sure and I for one agree to disagree peaceably.
spike
***
Yep, well-versed on that aspect.
And opinionated too.
I don't happen to believe that Bush is anyone's pawn.
I do believe that the preponderance of evidence points toward the founding fathers [signers of the declaration of independence] were deists rather than christians
and that furthermore, even if the United States was founded as a christian nation, it does not naturally follow that it should remain so today.
spike
***
I like fluffy bunnies coated with shake-n-bake and barbequed.
spike
a wiking wingnut
_________________________
I am a viking vingnut or is that a wiking wingnut
or maybe a ...
***
...am I growing on you like a fungus?I am a viking vingnut or is that a wiking wingnut
or maybe a ...
***
I hear that coffee is a great anti-fungal...
spike q. fungus
Fungi rule. Pictures of fungi altered make great backgrounds for e-stationary.
***
Okay, I am not a fungus then.
A mold?
I must be a mold.
That's it! I'm a mold.
[spike goes wandering off in the direction of coffee and happy pills]
***
sapphoq on life
Woe to Pagan Poop
Go here:
http://www.outofthedark.com/WitchTower/Portolets/
for an example of a Christian man discriminating against pagan poop.
The resultant mp3 is not to be missed.
sapphoq n friends
http://www.outofthedark.com/WitchTower/Portolets/
for an example of a Christian man discriminating against pagan poop.
The resultant mp3 is not to be missed.
sapphoq n friends
Thursday, 22 November 2007
Job Ideas for spike q. poet
*Disclaimer: not necessarily approved of by the local unimaginative VESID/O.V.R. office*
1. Grow hissing cockroaches, crickets, and earthworms-- may distress lover.
2. Photograph frogs.
3. Breed frogs-- too technical. Apparently frogs in captivity can't figure out how to do it without
human intervention.
4. Rescue unwanted or hurt amphibians-- lover thinks fifteen frogs are enough.
5. Raise llamas--- may really distress lover.
6. Trail guide and llama trekking-- requires llamas.
7. Breed snakes-- lover will move out.
8. Receptionist at very quiet office with no telephone lines.
9. Starving artist-writer.
10. Inspirational speaker.
11. Career coaching.
12. Have year round yard sales.
13. Sell things on the web-- requires things that people will want to buy.
14. Drive a truck-- spinal problems will rebel.
15. Teacher's aide-- hate kids in groups of more than one.
16. Landlord-- been there, done that, ain't doing that to myself again.
17. Event planner-- poor organizational skills.
18. Be a clown or stand-up comic.
19. Start a new religion-- bad karma.
20. Grow flowers in a greenhouse-- requires greenhouse.
21. Professional poker player.
22. Raise corn, hay, and other stuff-- requires farm.
23. Own a human services agency-- would rather manually shovel cow shit.
24. Restaurant hostess at a very slow restaurant.
25. Cook at a small diner-- people will die.
sapphoq healing t.b.i.
1. Grow hissing cockroaches, crickets, and earthworms-- may distress lover.
2. Photograph frogs.
3. Breed frogs-- too technical. Apparently frogs in captivity can't figure out how to do it without
human intervention.
4. Rescue unwanted or hurt amphibians-- lover thinks fifteen frogs are enough.
5. Raise llamas--- may really distress lover.
6. Trail guide and llama trekking-- requires llamas.
7. Breed snakes-- lover will move out.
8. Receptionist at very quiet office with no telephone lines.
9. Starving artist-writer.
10. Inspirational speaker.
11. Career coaching.
12. Have year round yard sales.
13. Sell things on the web-- requires things that people will want to buy.
14. Drive a truck-- spinal problems will rebel.
15. Teacher's aide-- hate kids in groups of more than one.
16. Landlord-- been there, done that, ain't doing that to myself again.
17. Event planner-- poor organizational skills.
18. Be a clown or stand-up comic.
19. Start a new religion-- bad karma.
20. Grow flowers in a greenhouse-- requires greenhouse.
21. Professional poker player.
22. Raise corn, hay, and other stuff-- requires farm.
23. Own a human services agency-- would rather manually shovel cow shit.
24. Restaurant hostess at a very slow restaurant.
25. Cook at a small diner-- people will die.
sapphoq healing t.b.i.
Friday, 16 November 2007
On Poetry, Writing, and stuff
I started writing poetry in fourth grade.
It wasn't until high school that I began experimenting with prose poems
without rhyming words at the end.
Although I like to play with words using internal rhyming,
alliteration, and other stuff like that, I am lousy when it comes to traditional rhyme and meter schemes. Consequently, almost all of my poetry is written in the style of prose poetry.
Even with a rhyming dictionary such as the one that can be found at:
http://www.rhymezone.com/, my attempts at rhyming are un-good!
Here is my latest endeavor-- the beginning of a prose poem:
The kitten ran out into the street, then stopped halfway.
He strutted up to me, staring at 60 pounds of blond
fur trying to hide behind my legs.
"Oh, what a cute kitten!" I said to the woman on the curb
as I dragged the scared dog out from her hiding place.
"You want him?" she asked.
"He's going to the pound in an hour along with his
two brothers and one sister."
Rhyming used to be much more popular and in my opinion, people used to be better at it. Some rhymed poetry has become classic.
Roses are red,
violets are blue.
Sugar is sweet,
and so are you.
There are other variations out there.
Roger Miller wrote this one:
They say roses are red
And violets are purple,
Sugar is sweet
And so is maple surple.
Here are a couple more that I've heard:
Roses are blue,
violets are red.
If you believe this,
you're sick in the head.
Roses are red.
Violets are bluish.
My audience has all fled
cuz at rhyming I'm newish.
Violets are blue
and roses are red.
I'm 'llergic to them it's true,
so I'll have the fake ones instead.
My dad is a big fan of Shel Silverman, thus as a kid I got to hear dad's renditions of many of his songs and verses.
Dad would recite random ditties such as
"I never saw a purple cow. I never hope to see one. But I can tell you this right now-- I'd rather see than be one."
And the ultra-risque "Ladies and gentlemen, take my advice. Pull down your britches and slide on the ice."
He would sing out, "There's a dead skunk in the middle of the road" whenever there was one and he knew all the words to fun songs like "I don't want a pickle, I just want to ride my motor-sickle. And I don't want to die. I just want to ride my motorcy------cle."
He too liked the sound of words.
I never read anything he wrote though and I wonder now if he himself has written anything.
I shall have to ask him about that.
I remember when I got older that dad had a subscription to Omni right along with his subscription to Playboy.
I counted myself lucky because I was able to read both.
I never did tell my mother about the Playboy articles. She wouldn't have appreciated it.
Dad also was interested in psychology, an interest which I share. He allowed me free reign to his own book collection, much as my maternal grandmother did. I read what I wanted there and there was no judgement about material being "too old" for me.
Things I didn't understand he explained in ways that I understood.
My mother sold me on Robert Lewis Stevenson and I spent lots of time reading his stuff.
My mother didn't break out into spontaneous song or verses but she did encourage me to write my own poems.
And she knew that Saturday was Library Day as far as I was concerned.
Many Saturdays I walked the couple miles to the library where I would search the aisles for books to check out. I always walked to and from the library, although the buses were available and I knew how to use them. On one such walk, my younger friend Richard and I threw ice cream cones off a bridge and one landed inside a police cruiser. On others, Richard or Grace and I stopped at the local greasy pizza spot for slices or bought cherries off the vendor on the corner. If no friends were around to go with me, I went alone. I loved the library. I can still see the outside of our neighborhood branch, the blue aluminum-looking framed windows, the take out desk, the houses and stores and streets along the way.
I enjoyed the school library also. We had a one-legged librarian-- she had bone cancer and used crutches rather than a fake leg, I don't know why-- who taught me how to find books in the library, was willing to allow some classmates and I access to the Life magazine issue with the pictures of embryos and fetuses, and always listened to what we had to say. I remember going through reading binges-- one month I read all of the biographies of scientists in the library. I also went through binges of fiction from other countries, mysteries, and series. I was a serious child. Words were everything to me. I was a word nerd.
Those trips to the library, along with helping the one-legged elementary school librarian shelve books, parents who fostered my love of words all contributed to my desire to have my stuff published. I've had lots of stuff published now and yet I can still remember the first acceptance letter, and getting a copy of the first zine with my words in it.
sapphoq the word nerd on life
It wasn't until high school that I began experimenting with prose poems
without rhyming words at the end.
Although I like to play with words using internal rhyming,
alliteration, and other stuff like that, I am lousy when it comes to traditional rhyme and meter schemes. Consequently, almost all of my poetry is written in the style of prose poetry.
Even with a rhyming dictionary such as the one that can be found at:
http://www.rhymezone.com/, my attempts at rhyming are un-good!
Here is my latest endeavor-- the beginning of a prose poem:
The kitten ran out into the street, then stopped halfway.
He strutted up to me, staring at 60 pounds of blond
fur trying to hide behind my legs.
"Oh, what a cute kitten!" I said to the woman on the curb
as I dragged the scared dog out from her hiding place.
"You want him?" she asked.
"He's going to the pound in an hour along with his
two brothers and one sister."
Rhyming used to be much more popular and in my opinion, people used to be better at it. Some rhymed poetry has become classic.
Roses are red,
violets are blue.
Sugar is sweet,
and so are you.
There are other variations out there.
Roger Miller wrote this one:
They say roses are red
And violets are purple,
Sugar is sweet
And so is maple surple.
Here are a couple more that I've heard:
Roses are blue,
violets are red.
If you believe this,
you're sick in the head.
Roses are red.
Violets are bluish.
My audience has all fled
cuz at rhyming I'm newish.
Violets are blue
and roses are red.
I'm 'llergic to them it's true,
so I'll have the fake ones instead.
My dad is a big fan of Shel Silverman, thus as a kid I got to hear dad's renditions of many of his songs and verses.
Dad would recite random ditties such as
"I never saw a purple cow. I never hope to see one. But I can tell you this right now-- I'd rather see than be one."
And the ultra-risque "Ladies and gentlemen, take my advice. Pull down your britches and slide on the ice."
He would sing out, "There's a dead skunk in the middle of the road" whenever there was one and he knew all the words to fun songs like "I don't want a pickle, I just want to ride my motor-sickle. And I don't want to die. I just want to ride my motorcy------cle."
He too liked the sound of words.
I never read anything he wrote though and I wonder now if he himself has written anything.
I shall have to ask him about that.
I remember when I got older that dad had a subscription to Omni right along with his subscription to Playboy.
I counted myself lucky because I was able to read both.
I never did tell my mother about the Playboy articles. She wouldn't have appreciated it.
Dad also was interested in psychology, an interest which I share. He allowed me free reign to his own book collection, much as my maternal grandmother did. I read what I wanted there and there was no judgement about material being "too old" for me.
Things I didn't understand he explained in ways that I understood.
My mother sold me on Robert Lewis Stevenson and I spent lots of time reading his stuff.
My mother didn't break out into spontaneous song or verses but she did encourage me to write my own poems.
And she knew that Saturday was Library Day as far as I was concerned.
Many Saturdays I walked the couple miles to the library where I would search the aisles for books to check out. I always walked to and from the library, although the buses were available and I knew how to use them. On one such walk, my younger friend Richard and I threw ice cream cones off a bridge and one landed inside a police cruiser. On others, Richard or Grace and I stopped at the local greasy pizza spot for slices or bought cherries off the vendor on the corner. If no friends were around to go with me, I went alone. I loved the library. I can still see the outside of our neighborhood branch, the blue aluminum-looking framed windows, the take out desk, the houses and stores and streets along the way.
I enjoyed the school library also. We had a one-legged librarian-- she had bone cancer and used crutches rather than a fake leg, I don't know why-- who taught me how to find books in the library, was willing to allow some classmates and I access to the Life magazine issue with the pictures of embryos and fetuses, and always listened to what we had to say. I remember going through reading binges-- one month I read all of the biographies of scientists in the library. I also went through binges of fiction from other countries, mysteries, and series. I was a serious child. Words were everything to me. I was a word nerd.
Those trips to the library, along with helping the one-legged elementary school librarian shelve books, parents who fostered my love of words all contributed to my desire to have my stuff published. I've had lots of stuff published now and yet I can still remember the first acceptance letter, and getting a copy of the first zine with my words in it.
sapphoq the word nerd on life
Monday, 12 November 2007
Four Years
Last week I passed my four year anniversary since my car accident and my traumatic brain injury. I thought somehow I would be working by now. Although I am closer to working now than I've been. Yeah, I am writing a novel and that is cool. To me though, that doesn't really "count" until the contract has been signed and an advance check is in my sweaty hands. I have one potential job substituting for a dishwasher should they get sick and another possibility to work for a friend who is manager at a restaurant. I don't think I will mind washing dishes once in awhile. Working at the friend's restaurant-- well, I gotta start over again somewhere. I haven't even been able to get an interview to deliver newspapers. So I will take what I can get and remember it is just for now, just until I can find something else.
I still have my vision problems, the mild expressive aphasia, and the occasional vertigo. As far as medical experts say, traumatic brain injury is permanent. We improve over time at some stuff, especially if we keep working at it but the basic brain injury itself is there and will be there. Folks say that "the brain can regenerate isn't that amazing?" sort of thing until I am sick of hearing it. Again, I will tell yas that yes, some neurons can regenerate however they do not always reconnect to the correct halves [causing cognitive slowdowns] or at all to anything [causing a central nervous system tremor which yes I do have].
I will never be who I was. I won't lie for the sake of the comfort of others and claim that who I am is a new improved model because it isn't. I don't believe that "all things happen for a reason" or that "I'm right where some god wants me to be" or that "there are no true coincidences." What I think is that life is sacred-- neither fair nor unfair-- and that it is the finite part of our selves that requires and maybe even demands meaning, thus we create it. I don't particularly feel bound by any compulsion to have reasons and lessons for learning. I think that life is far beyond our petty little explanations. Most other folks I know find comfort in believing that there is some sort of grand plan. That stuff doesn't help me though so I dumped it.
Some things have improved. My hearing-- which was supersonic before my accident and right on the borderline of needing a hearing aid or two afterwards-- has re-established itself into the supersonic category as per the last audiology test this summer. The addition of a c-pap machine after two sleep studies and a diagnosis of sleep apnea has really helped me to have a life [although it takes me much longer than average to get into REM sleep, at least I am dreaming again at night]. I keep working on my aphasia and now most folks don't notice it. I got involved with an incredimail creators' group [thanks Jeremy Crow] and that has been of immense help to me in restoring motivation.
If the accident didn't happen, we would have been better off financially and I would not have had my career viciously kicked out from under me. If suffering builds character and strength, I certainly could have done with a bit less of both of those things. In a perfect world, folks who smoke pot would be picked up by the magic yellow submarine bus and driven anywheres they had to go. [The driver who ran my car into a house was high on marijuana]. In a perfect world, we wouldn't need lawyers to protect us from our places of employment after we get hurt, little kids wouldn't be abused or die of starvation and diseases and all stuff like that. But it is not a perfect world. So I just have to do the best I can [most days] with what I got. As Nathaniel Branden would say, "It is what it is."
By this time next year, I hope that my novel will be written and submitted. I also hope to be working at least part-time at a job that I can tolerate. Still be married and in love with my husband and he with me. Saving money for my next cross-country trip. [I want to go every year or every two years for the rest of my life]. And still enjoying my animals, the woods, and life.
spike
I am writing a novel, as I've said before and thus am behind once again in visiting all of your blogs and commenting. Sorry for that. I will get to visiting all of yas to leave comments over the next few weeks or so.
And anyone who has a dog, if you haven't watched The Dog Whisperer, you ought to give it a whirl. He has most excellent ideas about dog psychology and communication. My current dog who is really angelic has become even more perfect since I started doing some of the things he suggests.
I still have my vision problems, the mild expressive aphasia, and the occasional vertigo. As far as medical experts say, traumatic brain injury is permanent. We improve over time at some stuff, especially if we keep working at it but the basic brain injury itself is there and will be there. Folks say that "the brain can regenerate isn't that amazing?" sort of thing until I am sick of hearing it. Again, I will tell yas that yes, some neurons can regenerate however they do not always reconnect to the correct halves [causing cognitive slowdowns] or at all to anything [causing a central nervous system tremor which yes I do have].
I will never be who I was. I won't lie for the sake of the comfort of others and claim that who I am is a new improved model because it isn't. I don't believe that "all things happen for a reason" or that "I'm right where some god wants me to be" or that "there are no true coincidences." What I think is that life is sacred-- neither fair nor unfair-- and that it is the finite part of our selves that requires and maybe even demands meaning, thus we create it. I don't particularly feel bound by any compulsion to have reasons and lessons for learning. I think that life is far beyond our petty little explanations. Most other folks I know find comfort in believing that there is some sort of grand plan. That stuff doesn't help me though so I dumped it.
Some things have improved. My hearing-- which was supersonic before my accident and right on the borderline of needing a hearing aid or two afterwards-- has re-established itself into the supersonic category as per the last audiology test this summer. The addition of a c-pap machine after two sleep studies and a diagnosis of sleep apnea has really helped me to have a life [although it takes me much longer than average to get into REM sleep, at least I am dreaming again at night]. I keep working on my aphasia and now most folks don't notice it. I got involved with an incredimail creators' group [thanks Jeremy Crow] and that has been of immense help to me in restoring motivation.
If the accident didn't happen, we would have been better off financially and I would not have had my career viciously kicked out from under me. If suffering builds character and strength, I certainly could have done with a bit less of both of those things. In a perfect world, folks who smoke pot would be picked up by the magic yellow submarine bus and driven anywheres they had to go. [The driver who ran my car into a house was high on marijuana]. In a perfect world, we wouldn't need lawyers to protect us from our places of employment after we get hurt, little kids wouldn't be abused or die of starvation and diseases and all stuff like that. But it is not a perfect world. So I just have to do the best I can [most days] with what I got. As Nathaniel Branden would say, "It is what it is."
By this time next year, I hope that my novel will be written and submitted. I also hope to be working at least part-time at a job that I can tolerate. Still be married and in love with my husband and he with me. Saving money for my next cross-country trip. [I want to go every year or every two years for the rest of my life]. And still enjoying my animals, the woods, and life.
spike
I am writing a novel, as I've said before and thus am behind once again in visiting all of your blogs and commenting. Sorry for that. I will get to visiting all of yas to leave comments over the next few weeks or so.
And anyone who has a dog, if you haven't watched The Dog Whisperer, you ought to give it a whirl. He has most excellent ideas about dog psychology and communication. My current dog who is really angelic has become even more perfect since I started doing some of the things he suggests.
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