General fitness, health and nutrition · Public discussion

TOS report for sat.

Started by FabulustRunner · · Last activity · 1 post · 259 views

Thread details

What we know about this thread

Original section
General fitness, health and nutrition
Published
19 December 2004
Last activity
19 December 2004
Original author
FabulustRunner
Posts
1
Discussion status
Public discussion
Total views
259
Views / 30 days
0

The navigation and discussion metadata provide context. Posts remain in their original chronological order.

Showing posts 1–1 of 1
Posts remain in their original chronological order.

Text size
  1. Subject: ~ A reservation...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:51 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    *
    A Round Set
    *
    I feel lost and lonely.
    I feel mostly horny.
    I feel my mind, no longer mine.
    I do not know the time.
    I do not know how to speak
    Except in rhyme.
    I think will go wander
    My city streets.

    “What ~
    Being lame on one level isn’t enough?
    ~ High Con

    Try ballet!
    Compression torque, upward motion ~
    Defy gravity!
    [Hey!]

    ~ waves ~

    “I agree! Why suck at just one sport,
    When you can do tri’s and suck at three?”

    Because, Dear Rude Fabby,
    Time, if limited, O know ~
    Here, let me grab you, you’re flying!
    A partnered catch, a spinning pirouette,
    A calculated catch, a well-woven net
    Without which no aerialist should display
    Her talent, her ability to defy earth’s gravity.
    So gravitas, so veritas, so artful dodger
    Perriot, Thee, I do know. O.

    “I agree! Why suck at just one sport,
    When you can do tri’s and suck at three?”

    Try ballet!
    Compression torque,
    Upward motion ~
    Spinning round,
    Elevated ground ~ Defy
    Gravity! I agree ~ But O, don’t you know?
    That’s just a three-ring circus,
    A Festival at the Faire, a sparkling cast
    O fairies gone awry. O dear, I’ve something
    In my eye. Just tear’s deserted prism
    Refracting light, a spectrum broken down
    For me, a batch of silly clowns.
    A book satchel slung over my shoulder,
    A party atmosphere, a teaspoon of honey
    Makes the medicine go down,
    Relieves
    My frown!
    But the ocean views
    Returned ~

    Patterned wallpaper, paintings
    Sung, songs hung,
    Suspended
    In mid-air ~
    Museums ~ The Painted One ~ stuffed our accessories
    Of the crime, a deliberate
    Subversion, your artful
    Evasion ~ Another version of narrative,
    Your sublimation!
    But O!
    What a Grande Occasion
    ~ This ferry, and those fairies, too,
    Deliver all wee-small passengers, canines, kids,
    And alligators, too ~
    Deeper into the heart
    Of the conversation, a Divine Conversion
    A place reserved…
    A table set.
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
    ======================

    Subject: Re: ~ A reservation...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:53 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    ....or a Robin
    Song...
    All around ~
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
    ======================
    Subject: Re: ~ A reservation...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:54 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    ....or a sung song
    Heard,
    And answered.
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
    ========================
    Subject: Re: ~ A reservation...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:55 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    ....by a Carnvial
    Cast,
    An atmosphere.
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
    =====================

    Subject: Re: ~ A reservation...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 8:07 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    ....Carnival,
    Or Canard Cruise?

    See Fish Run!
    Yes, that’s what I thought ~
    Just now, walking past,
    Through my lobby,
    My Goldfish pond ~
    I stopped, looked,
    Considered, for the second time,
    Geeez.
    Those fish look strange!
    Fins large enough
    To walk on solid ground.
    Hm, yes, I see.
    Mum's original fish tale
    Retold: Amphibians!
    They’re all onboard ~
    All them fishies cruise now
    Aboard the Royal Promenade!
    Mum gave’em
    First-Class
    Sailing Quarters!
    Par excellence w/ Regis
    & Kathy Lee!

    [Beware of The Roaches:
    A tale TK!]

    [Okay now, who knows?
    Please tell me, she won't!]

    Quite, indeed,
    A divine complication, if you ask me,
    & I'm the one to know.
    O know! Here she comes now!
    Mum's after my butt...

    Fine, Mum, Fine.
    Perfect,
    Brilliant,
    Stunningly
    Glittering
    Ouutta site
    Invention.
    Words fail,
    Well, no,
    They don't fail
    At all! Do they?!
    *L*
    Words worked
    Right,
    But no,
    Mum made it
    Right.
    You'll be speechless ~

    O Mum?
    Where's my
    Mutt?
    You've got
    My butt,
    All yours,
    All these years...
    Hell,
    You're swell!

    “Vision would die a fast death.
    The corollary, NASA would remain
    Rudderless until, unless Kerry
    Comes with his own vision.”
    ~ Anon

    O but don't you know? Mr.
    Kerry lost, Bush still rules
    The roost ~

    Got rudder!
    Got utter?
    I see!
    Superkewl!
    [Now, for this
    Headache]

    “Plentiful 'bad' fish, yes, driving scarce
    'Good' fish from the market.”

    Try a course correction,
    Or just see: Ms.
    Marianne Moore, her Octupi!

    Okay, so, like, where's the party parked?
    Who's barking, who's not?

    “Nice observing.
    As someone who doesn't eat much salmon,
    I didn't see the situation develop.”
    ~ Anon

    O know? Even with all this yelping,
    Even though I told you so?

    "I told you so."
    ~ Mum

    All that yelping,
    You mean?
    O dunno. I saw it coming,
    1/4 century ago.
    That Damn
    Anne Bernays,
    A whacky women gone
    Way awry!
    [I'm the Apple
    Of her I,
    Don't ya know?!]
    Meanwhile...
    MAMMAAMAMAMAMA!
    Let's dance,
    Let's prance,
    Let's hold hands...
    Let's turn the music
    UP
    UP
    UP.
    Where's my pup?
    Kewl jeans,
    Mum!
    Kewl jewels,
    Mum!
    Like'em; I'll lick'em!
    K?
    Allsok.
    Love ya,
    Moi!
    Buds!
    You All
    R square
    Roots,
    Perfect imaginary
    Numbers.
    I'll always remember
    How dreadful you've
    All been to me,
    During this time ~
    You have seen
    Only the beginning
    Of me! I'll track
    You down; the Ends
    Of the Earth
    Are the Beginning ~
    Get my drift?
    Party on,
    Insane ~
    Carry On
    Team!
    More work ahead...

    “Uncle Al says,
    'If you have no place to go, any path
    Will get you
    There."
    ~ Anon

    So like, which way
    Should I go? Still, I suffer, yes, today
    From a Malaise de Noggin. No Egg de
    Noggin knocks @ my door.

    “…drowned in morning dew
    tattered wing
    shattered thing
    all eyes…”

    Where's the Dragon
    [Fly] Show?
    Where's my paycheck, where's my medical
    Care? All I have, this, my musical chaire,
    But nothing more. Poetry does not pay,
    Don't you know?
    This? Know!
    It's a damn poem,
    Like, ok?!

    “Like, no.”
    ~ Be well
    ~ Pax

    Peaces, to you, too.
    But,
    You no like my pome?!
    How come? It's a
    Divine Inspiration.
    Mum said,
    I inspired her.

    I picked up on her
    Scent!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Sniff, Bark!
    *tears*
    sniff, too.

    “…all eyes…”

    Where's the Dragon
    [Fly] Show?

    See: Mr. Balanchine's Ballet
    Agon...
    Mr. B, well,
    He got it all right!

    Now, tell me,
    Where's MY
    Ms. B?

    You no like my pome?!
    How come? It's a
    Divine Inspiration.
    Mum said,
    I inspired her. >>

    I picked up on her
    Scent!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Sniff, Bark!
    *tears*
    sniff, too.

    Here's how it goes:
    A long time ago, way long,
    I swam up to Mum,
    Say,

    HEY!

    Wow,
    Superkewl!
    You mean,
    Like, I'm not home
    All alone?
    Another fish,
    Here in the big blue sea!?
    Who'd of thought?

    TODAY's NEWs

    Yes, just a dogged work-around!

    [O look!
    There's Pepe L'Peu!]
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo

    =====================
    Subject: Re: Too much to juggle...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:21 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    Enduring grace or ephemera?
    I fear the fare,
    When kooku cooks cook.
    I fear the faire;
    I fear..

    “Circe’ this craft, the trim-coifed goddess.”
    ~ Ezra Pound

    Please explain.

    Circe may be at the Pound,
    [Just as Mr. Ezra, too, got tossed behind bars]
    And there are realms of Great Poems
    Left still for me to read, barely have I
    In this life scratched the surface,
    For surely, such riches enfolded in books
    Far more than one working life may know!
    Time, and endless scroll, all time to unfurl.
    Would that require of me,
    As well to live my lived life ~
    And read them all, and be a poet, too!
    For I believe lived life at least half the value,
    And literature, that Golden Cup, brimful
    Offers, cups, that plentiful well from which we drink,
    From where we learn, at least
    Half our knowing, about how to think ~
    When our soul thirsts, when lived life chokes life
    From each of us, starves both mind and body
    As it a will to do. But here, below, Ms.
    Maya Angelou sums Suma cum laude, yes,
    She says it all for me. No illusion, Maya
    Does she put forth ~ surely she knows all too
    Well that suffering is real, as everyday, proof
    I see, confusion written on the faces
    Who greet me on my Manhattan streets.

    ....Ah yes, suffering, real, but hope
    May bring relief. Suffering, yes, a convincing
    Illusion, Maya embodied in contusion
    ....but alas, that bruise, that bleeding body ~
    I stand by the experience that it's no illusion;
    As everyday, I see the proof on the faces
    Who bear its confusion. Computer game,
    Or value system? Solid earth or hazy myst?
    Enduring grace or ephemera?
    I fear the fare,
    When kooku cooks cook.
    I fear the faire;
    I fear...Ms.
    Angelou soothes my fear.

    *
    A Conceit

    Give me your hand

    Make room for me
    to lead and follow
    you
    beyond this rage of poetry.

    Let others have
    the privacy of
    touching words
    and love of loss
    of love.

    For me
    Give me your hand.

    ~ Maya Angelou
    *
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
    ==================
    Subject: Re: Too much to juggle...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:24 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    Bach, a fugue,
    Now I'll go listen to.
    Gotta shower, gotta go ~
    Gotta get to Borders, O
    Don't you know?
    So like, know! Back later ~
    PS. Where's that aligator?
    Find his leash, tell the sheep!
    Leonardo, yes, last sighted
    In Harrlem!
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
    ===============

    Subject: Re: Too much to juggle...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:31 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    Calling Mr.
    Cotter! To Holland
    We must go ~ So, like know!

    *
    “Does ShE [reAl]Ly fLoat
    Y]our[ bOat?”
    ~ Moi

    “Do you kEEp a helium Tank
    In y[our] bEdrOOm?
    D[oe]S y[our] wife geT t[uRn]Ed
    ON
    By D[on]AlD
    DUcK [voi]Ces tOO?”
    ~ Double-A

    (*+o<dp>IiI<qb>o+*)

    *

    “Sigh... As usual:
    Overcast here in Holland... And
    If the cllouds go away for
    Once,
    The meteor shower just plain s-cks (like last year’s
    Perseids..).”
    ~ John den Haan

    &/*
    Twang.
    Seen Chang, that sly, shy missing
    Hissing knowing
    Siamese cat
    Who wears Ed De Bono’s
    White Evening Top
    Hat?

    Justice, you top, I
    Zen.

    Wow. Now I bow.
    How’s that make
    Form?

    “It’s easy to play
    Any
    Musical instrument: All
    You have to do is touch
    The right key
    At the right time
    And the instrument
    Will
    Play itself.”
    ~ JS Bach

    For a long time...[sic]
    My life had reached
    A place where
    Little
    Surprise graced my days,
    Little sign of pleasure ahead,
    No remarkable adventures lie ahead of me,
    Or none that I could see. To say
    I lived in constant pain overstates my un ~
    Happiness.
    To say
    I traveled with my
    Constant
    Companion,
    Boredom

    Rings truth closer. Chimes more resonant.
    And yet, not even
    Thusly, fully the truth. So I lived
    With no hope.
    My malaise.
    My dreams
    Were pages in a book, I counted as days
    Already lived.
    And so, I found
    My happiness in books.
    Or rather, I searched
    My happiness for books, wandering from page
    To page, from shelf to shelf, searching,
    Following a sentence that led onward, offered
    Me
    A window,
    And so it was
    One evening, long after
    I'd drawn
    The blinds, pulled
    The covers to my chin, locked
    The doors and retired to the book
    Atop my bedside night table,
    That I found
    A story to my liking ~

    From upstairs, you could see the sounds
    Of the waves, even
    On this overcast day, hear the tinkling
    Silver, breathe the fragrant
    Orange peel, finger the firm rind, taste
    The sparkling bubbles against textureless
    Glass,
    Held on the tongue, tickling lips,
    Opening passages,
    Imagine the roasted pheasant,
    With a pleasant curiosity,
    I ~

    “I do not know
    If it would be possible
    To experience on a matter of art, an impression
    At once more singular and disquieting
    Than that felt
    By a stranger visiting Haarlem for the first time.
    He has already left the railway
    Before he seems to have entered into a sleeping
    Town. The Kruisstraat opens
    Before him, a long and absolutely deserted
    Perspective.”

    ~ Henry Havard
    From “Banquest of Arquebusiers (Frans Halls)”
    From “Famous Paintings As Seen
    And Described by Great
    Writers”
    (Dodd, Mead, & Company, 1905)

    “Oui, mon cher.”

    Where’s my chair?

    “Uns.”

    One?

    “Houseboat?”

    Loveboat?
    On cruise control...

    “Floating divas,
    Duck voice mating calls,
    Disney fantasies.”

    Non! Just
    My Opera Virtuoso Orlando
    Dress Re ~
    Hearsal dinner, with that Quack.
    O guess what ~ The DVD
    Fantasia I got! O too, Folly,
    My goose,
    Likes Duck Soup,
    Gerbers Stew, too.

    “Now
    I know what
    Bert
    Means by weird!”
    ~ Double-A

    You mean, those wires
    I see, suspended ~
    Flying me
    Over
    There?
    O dear, I better email for my
    Beth ~ a ~ Scope, aka
    Mommy Diva. An avid
    Socks fan, She, who also sings arias and
    Knows He. She surely re ~
    Collects
    What I mean, I mean
    What John sings. For I do not recall. But yall
    Don’t mind me. I’m think ~ inking Berlioz
    Aa-go-go. But De Leibe,
    Nice, too. A virgin
    Air line drafted round a garden
    Court.
    [Hey!]
    Maybe Beth knows, too,
    Leonardo’s where
    Ab ~ Outs!

    *
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
    =========================
    Subject: Re: Too much to juggle...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:32 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    *
    ~ Grande Perspective, A Reflective Journey ~

    “...an impression
    At once more singular and disquieting
    Than that felt
    By a stranger visiting Haarlem for the first time.
    He has already left the railway
    Before he seems to have entered into a sleeping
    Town. The Kruisstraat opens
    Before him, a long and absolutely deserted
    Perspective...”

    Leonardo
    Blinks, hesitates, thinks,
    Stands motionlessly, momentarily reluctant,
    Nervous,
    One would say, if one concerned oneself, were
    To more
    Accurately surmise his mood,
    If observing his small body

    ~ Brace ~

    Himself
    Against a sudden breeze.
    His
    Hair, white,
    Riffles,
    Touched,
    Felt,
    Combs the wind, sparks a chill, traces
    Spirals,
    Races
    Rapidly up, down, around his spine. A whine
    Overheard, if standing close. But none
    Stands near. His muscles stiffen. He folds
    His tail close to his body to warm himself, unsure,
    His resolve,
    Unclear, unknowing
    If venturing deeper into
    This sleeping
    Town
    Will take him closer to his goal,
    His arrival.
    He knows
    Not,
    Before a sudden impulse
    Prompts him to turn, tells him to
    Glance briefly behind, past his left shoulder. He seals,
    Encloses, exposes the image behind him,
    The place from
    Which he ventures. Satisfied,
    For now,
    His memory,
    His picture,
    The train station, he fixes his mind,
    For fear, his knowing,
    He may,
    Circle back,
    If the road ahead ~ The long,
    Absolutely
    Deserted perspective
    ~ Leads him back
    Again
    And again
    Retracing his steps. He stops, his hopes
    Hold the train station from which he departs,
    Satisfied, in his mind,
    Or as much as he allows
    Himself
    To feel,
    His submission for his journey, has
    He learned. Leon resolves
    The memory,
    Revolves his view away from the railway, turns
    Now to regard the future, stares
    Ahead. Be bold, Leon tells himself.
    Leon steels his determination, eyes
    The long perspective
    Before him, inhales deeply,
    Sighs sleepily,
    Steps forward...

    *

    “Are they stars that once
    existed within the influence of a galaxy or are there nebula/gas clouds
    that are stellar nursery?”
    ~ Southern Hospitality

    What’s a stellar nursery?

    “What’s actually matters...
    The butler did it.”
    ~ ugo

    Did what?

    "Does anyone recall the VF-published author's
    name of the wonderful
    explication of Botticelli's Venus and Mars
    (ca. 1983-86)?"
    ~ Stuart

    O, I would be most grateful
    To know.

    “Anyone have comments
    On the Garmin Forerunner 201?
    It wasn’t long before my
    Timex GPS was on EBay
    So I am trying to avoid that again.
    Thanks. . . .”
    ~ J. Merrill

    [Hey!]

    So, like, Dude ~
    What’s the light like,
    How often does it change?
    When’s this nightmare over?
    EBay? Is that like, you know, Long Island
    Sound? Xem
    It? Or rhyme it?
    Or just, forget about it all
    And die?
    Please don’t lie. I trust you Greatly,
    You know. Your work,
    My Dante, my style, my Idle Isle
    De C.

    “I have been using a 256mb mp3
    Player for awhile now. However,
    I left it at the gym the other day
    And it was ruthlessly
    Stolen.”
    ~ Schultz

    Ruth or rude?

    “I have been eyeing
    Those portable mp3 jukeboxes for awhile now.
    They have a little hard
    Drive in there
    I think
    So can store
    Gigs of data
    Rather than the
    Meager.”
    ~ Schultz

    While you’re shopping at the 7-11,
    And the meter’s running,
    Grab
    Me a snackie, please. Or Jack ~
    In ~ the ~ Box
    Or Taco Bell, too,
    Fine. Perhaps
    Too a Peppermint Pattie for dessert.

    “Question:
    Do they work OK if you jog with it?
    I wouldn’t want to screw up
    The hard-drive.”
    ~ Schultz

    Just keep your shoes on.
    That should do it.
    Choose your ~ O
    Know!
    Terry, that you?
    Bring that dog
    Leash, please. As I know you
    Recollect well, you’ll offer me that chain, come New
    Year’s
    Eve, 1968.
    Just off Laura Lane.
    11:55 pm.
    A dark night.
    A ditch.
    A station wagon driven in reverse ~
    No rehearsal.

    ~~ waves *
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
    ===========================

    Subject: Re: Too much to juggle...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:33 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    ~~ waves *

    PS. Tell Michael’s Dad, Mr.
    Atkinson, that Flyer,
    Hello! Great book! Great Mr.
    Rick Bragg quote there, too. Great
    Grief commentary.

    [Good grief! Here’s
    Charlie Brown snooping around
    Town!]

    Or
    Just see: Me, ca. September, 17, 2004 ~
    I was looking around some pics of my hometown,
    Which has been savaged by hurricane Ivan,
    And I came across an excerpt from a biography
    By the father of someone I knew.
    This opening passage, from Mr.
    Atkinson’s book,
    Touched me.

    “Rick [Bragg] was in New Orleans doing a feature story
    for the New York Times and was interviewing
    an elderly black lady in the ghettos
    who had just lost her grandson
    due to a senseless shooting. He described how
    the little boy's ‘Dr. Seuss’ books just dropped
    to the ground and the grandson died
    looking up at his grandmother with a shocked expression,
    unable to speak a word.
    When the interview was over, the grandmother thanked
    Mr. Bragg for taking the time to write
    about her grandson.

    Rick said that his normal reply to such a response
    from someone consumed with grief
    is simply to say Thank You and leave.
    But in this instance he replied,
    ‘Why in the world do you want to thank me?
    All I have done is to scribble a few notes.
    Your grandson is gone forever
    and you are the one who will live with his loss
    for the rest of your life.’

    The grandmother replied
    by showing him a few carefully folded clippings
    from New Orleans newspapers.
    The little pieces of paper, coldly and briefly,
    reported the story of her grandson’s tragic death.

    Then the grandmother said to Rick Bragg.
    ‘You sees, sir, if it ain’t writ down,
    peoples forgets.’”
    ~ Tex Atkinson

    “Forerunner 201?’

    “Yes. Comments and lots of them.
    Ask Dr. Google.
    Cheers”
    ~ DonVon

    Who’s that?

    “Then the grandmother said to Rick Bragg.
    ‘You sees, sir, if it ain’t writ down,
    Peoples forgets.’”
    ~ Tex Atkinson

    “Forerunner 201?’

    “Yes. Comments and lots of them.
    Ask Dr. Google.
    Cheers”
    ~ DonVon

    Who’s that?

    O gotcha. Mr.
    Charles Schultz said, “You’re a Good
    Man, Robin Brown.” Betcha that Beagle 2
    Loves Jack Russells, too.

    *
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo
    ===========================

    Subject: Re: Too much to juggle...
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/17/2004 7:35 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    *
    “Inyuranus is an idiot.
    He also is really creepy in many ways.”
    ~ Martha

    Fine, but where's Mr.
    Stravinsky?
    Igor?
    Or Stativarias?
    McTavish
    Or Arthur fiddling? Or just a puff
    Of Zen, or now
    And then.
    Future tense,
    Or just my desk-seated posture-induced
    Pruned down all around
    Town’s Morning ~ Would
    You mind explaining
    Your unseemly motivation? Or just
    A rite of my uncoiled Spring
    Forward, Fall
    Back...a
    Ward, you are, Robin, of Batman ~

    “Since Hell has frozen over, it follows
    That it is
    Not
    Accepting any more souls and is therefore,
    Extinct...leaving only Heaven
    Thereby
    Proving the existence of a divine being,
    Which explains why, last night,
    Teresa
    Kept shouting ‘Oh my God.’”
    ~ surf

    Whatever.
    Clever.
    So she read my Blog.

    So like,
    Is Hell a Theme Park
    Nowadays? If so,
    Tres tacky. Yesterday’s New York Times
    Reports ~
    “Orlando,
    Florida, Incorporates What’s Hot”

    Me, I gotta get back to the classics ~
    Still gotta read Ms.
    Wolfe’s mistook book, Evergreen
    Wintergreen. Or chew spearmint or trident,
    Chewing gum’s gumming up the works.
    Hermes scarffed down supper
    Too fast, too, then howled after dinner, whining
    For an after-cheese-course aperitif ~
    While I was on the phone with Mr.
    Derimergers, reporting my impressions back
    To him, regarding
    Our earlier apres Ouji Board consultation
    Avec Bill, Kelsey, all the best rest,
    One lovely summer’s eve, on his townhouse deck
    Wooden, blowing in the breeze ~
    Whatever ~
    [Hey!]

    “You have to make the call for yourself.”

    I did that. ATT
    Told me my bill was late.

    “Uns.”

    One?

    “Ones. Big Ones.
    As in ‘a pair of...’”

    Balls or [censored] or stars.

    “Houseboat?”

    Loveboat?
    On cruise control...

    “Headed for Viagra Falls.”

    Or the Milky Way?

    “Ich Liebe Dich.”

    Please explain.

    …drafted round a garden
    Court.
    [Hey!]
    Maybe Beth knows, too,
    Leonardo’s where
    Ab ~ Outs!

    “Well all gather the
    Where?”
    ~ Double-A

    Last scene, that Maltese Dog
    Disembarking...

    ....a train station, somewhere
    Outside the Holland Tunnel ~

    [Hey!]

    Baby boi! Come on home ~
    A bone I’ll get you!
    All fortified with a New Generation Bisphosphonate,
    Just Zometa, or
    A Meta Oz \White fluffy tall ta[i]le
    Told to et
    Al.

    PS. Bring the gang, you know
    Who they are, Leonardo!

    *
    “Uns.”

    One?

    “Ones. Big Ones. As in ‘a pair of...’”
    ~ Double-A

    Sounds dicey to me.
    Or para ~
    Bolical. Or dia ~
    Bolical. Or Constant ~
    In Ople. Open
    The champagne, please?
    Cheers!************8

    Ford the water, the Viagra Falls ~
    Over the top, singing Christmas
    Carols, rounds sung…

    ~ Slip, sip
    Champagne
    Avec Charlemagne ~

    Ballast me, off center
    I now go ~ sailing to

    Ballicatter ~ A ridge of ice formed
    Along a shoreline by waves
    And freezing spray.

    The Ghost~est~es with the Most~est,
    Just my Sacred Host, of which I Boast,
    Sailing my boat across the sea of thyme,
    My ancient rhyme…

    Eternitie
    ~ Robert Herrick
    (1591–1674)

    “O YEARES! and Age! Farewell
    Behold I go,
    Where I do know
    Infinitie to dwell.

    And these mine eyes shall see
    All times, how they
    Are lost i’ th’ Sea
    Of vast Eternitie.

    Where never Moone shall sway
    The Starres; but she,
    And Night, shall be
    Drown’d in one endlesse Day.”

    ~ Sailing
    My ship de
    Fooles ~

    * ~ You are cordially invited ~ *

    ....on a journey, just yall & me,
    Into, throughout, as well,
    About ~

    Peterson Field Guides
    EASTERN FORESTS
    Author, John C. Kricher
    Illustrator, Gordon Morrison
    Vol. 37
    Houghton Mifflin
    1988

    Perchance,
    Too, to stumble upon
    ~ Mourning Would ~
    So long I have, I do, I did, still am, too,
    A wished-for awakening...

    Or hast Thou forsaken me?
    I think NOT!

    “Natural history is an extraordinary subject.
    The study of nature fascinated Aristotle no less
    than it did Charles Darwin centuries later.
    It still fascinates us today. Few subjects so clearly
    and simultaneously appeal to both the emotions
    and the intellect. A quiet sojourn in a spring woodland
    is one of the most relaxing of experiences. The sight
    of various life-forms re-emerging from dormancy
    to activity provides a splendid sense of continuity. Emotions
    are recharged as Skunk Cabbage pokes up, Red Maples
    blossom, and the Spring Peeper chorus breaks what had
    been winter's silence. Nature is art unbridled
    by human bias. But, it is far more...”
    ~ John C. Kricher,
    From the Preface

    “Regards,
    ~ The other Alex”

    Love & kisses to both
    Alexes ~

    …scam…
    unscramble

    “How do we define reality?
    Can there be separate realities,
    Or is the only reality the one
    That we can physically sense
    For ourselves?”
    ~ Double-A

    Where’s Mr.
    Carlos Castaneda?

    “How do we define reality? Can there be
    Separate realities, or is the only reality
    The one
    That we can physically sense for ourselves?”
    ~ Double-A

    I once, briefly, crossed to the mirror’s other side.
    And several times, alas, I’ve
    Journeyed through Ether,
    AKA, either/or.
    Just a sliding ramp upward,
    Or sometimes, yes.
    A leap ~

    *
    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo

    ==================




    Subject: Re: Road ID slogan
    From: [email hidden] (Twittering One)
    Date: 12/18/2004 4:58 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
    Message-id: <[email hidden]>

    [highcon]
    << I-M-POTENT >>
    Yes, dear, you are;
    Therefore, you do.

    _______
    Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
    http://journal
    s.aol.com/virginiaz/DreamingofLeonardo

    ==================

Active in the last 60 minutes

Active in this thread

0 users · 0 guests ·0 bots ·0 total

No signed-in users are active right now.

No known search crawlers active right now.