APOTHEOSIS
JO U R NA L O F TH E PO E TI C
G E N I US S OC IE TY
MARCH – APRIL ISSUE
VOLUME V – NUMBER 2
DR. GREG A. GROVE PGS
FOUNDER
Apotheosis is an e-publication of the Poetic Genius Society.
Members, please send submissions to: marknorm@adelphia.net
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-1-
POETRY INDEX
Page No.
Disciplinal Poetry of the Issue
2 Senryu - by Maria C Faverio
11
Lachesis - Next Issues Disciplinal Poetry - by Kay Lindgren
8 Bitter Brew - David Ellis
8 Inuit Angel - Michael Zerger
8 Dire - Mark Norman
8 True - Mark Norman
8 Lifeless Inukshuk - Michael Zerger
8 Schefflera Leaves - Kay Lindgren
8 On Exercise Mat: - Kay Lindgren
8 Opiate Infatuate – Mark Norman
8 Fat Black Housefly - Kay Lindgren
8 Water Falling - Kay Lindgren
8 Senryu-Niño Feliz - Jorge González López
8 Bold Daddy - Kathleen Cesaro
9 Dilutions of Grandeur - Jon Marin
9 Beyond beyond - Kathleen Cesaro
9 Spring Fling - Kathleen Cesaro
9 More than 64! - Kay Lindgren
9 A Christmas Card Found at Easter - Jon Marin
9 Innocence - Kathleen Cesaro
9 Doc, how many days - Kathleen Cesaro
9 Yoga in the Park - Kathleen Cesaro
9 KT, LeG: - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
9 On Branch Glazed - Kay Lindgren
9 Lark Singing in Sol - Kay Lindgren
10 Commuters - Maria C. Faverio
10 Notorious - Maria C. Faverio
10 Hours - Maria C. Faverio
10 Pointed - Maria C. Faverio
10 Ants – Maria C. Faverio
10 Resting - Maria C. Faverio
10 Leafless - Maria C. Faverio
10 Trapped - Maria C. Faverio
10 Hopping - Maria C. Faverio
10 Frolicking - Maria C. Faverio
10 Sitting - Maria C. Faverio
10 Carousel - Maria C. Faverio
10 Simplicity – Maria C. Faverio
10 Peaceless - Maria C. Faverio
10 Excited – Maria C. Faverio
10 Motionless - Maria C. Faverio
11 Snowman - Maria C. Faverio
11 Dying - Kay Lindgren
11 Forest - Hernan R. Chang M.D.
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POETRY INDEX
Page No.
Poetry
12 So Many Questions, Not So Many Answers - Irene Theocharis
12 This Garden - Peter (Krax) Ingestad
12 Prestidigitation - David Ellis
13 We are Just One - Hernan R. Chang M.D.
13 Lady's Choice - Kathleen Cesaro
13 5 Haikus for Hell’s Angels – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
13 Aye, Me Hearty! - Torg (Tom) Hadley
14 Response to a Raisin Hater - Sean MacNiven
14 Age - Tine Wilde
14 Apercu* - Kathleen Cesaro
14 A Disease of the Soul - Hernan R. Chang M.D.
14 Shall Self-Will - Torg (Tom) Hadley
14 Dark Haiku - Krysta Sutterfield
14 San Antonio: - Jon Marin
14 No the Problem Here Is - Paul Nachbar
15 Forget It - Paul Nachbar
15 First Kiss - Daniele Pinna
15 Once… - Daniele Pinna
15 Never-ending Lullabye - Daniele Pinna
15 Midlife-Crisis of a Twenty Year Old - Merlin Carl
16 Wizard - T. G. "Torg" Hadley
16 Either/Or - Paul Nachbar
16 Truth, Life - Dr. Gregg Grove
16 Echoed - Thom Hadley
17 Opposites - Kathleen Cesaro
17 Migration - Kathleen Cesaro
17 To the Group - Kathleen Cesaro
18 Poetry or Pirouette - Kathleen Cesaro
18 Poets Prayer (age 46) - Paul Nachbar
18 Cronus - Thom Hadley
18 Ode to the Pentaquark - Paul Nachbar
19 Questions - Kathleen Cesaro
19 For Jon - Thomas Hadley
19 (Listening to Random Stuff on a Random Local Radio Station) - Paul Nachbar
19 What's the Point? - Karin Lindgren
20 Just Feeling Pythonesque, This Morning! - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
21 "Beyond Tachyon" - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
21 The Echo of the Silence - Hernan R. Chang
21 Drugged and Drowsy - David Ellis
21 Attempting to Write - David Ellis
22 Searching for the White Knight Sir John - Mark Norman*
22 La Felicidad - Hernan R. Chang
22 For: Someone or Something - Paul Nachbar
22 La Noche - Hernan R. Chang
23 Mentor - Kathleen Cesaro
23 Home - Kathleen Cesaro
24 "Cogito Ergo Zoom" - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
25 Recueillement Translation - Kay Lindgren
25 Untitled - David Ellis
25 May I Transmit? - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
26 4K-pax/the Krax: {(OK, (k?) or [Que'?]: - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
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POETRY INDEX
Page No.
27 On Art - Tine Wilde
29 Eyes blink - David Ellis
29 Allison Sings Opera - Paul Nachbar
29 Haiku - Hernan Chang
29 Bloat Afloat - Jon Marin
30 I'd Rather Be a Rhinoceros - Kay Lindgren
30 Nueve Nova - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
31 Don't Hide - Kathleen Cesaro
31 Me, at last. - Kathleen Cesaro
31 Where We Fit In - Jon Marin
31 Radiant rainbow - Hernan Chang M.D.
32 Like an Eagle - Hernan Chang M.D.
32 Happy Azalea - Hernan Chang M.D.
32 Odysseus:As The World Turns - David Ellis
32 Poema (sin título) - Jorge González
33 Stately Sequoia – Hernan Chang M.D.
33 Blue Maze - Maria C. Faverio
33 Existential Ease – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
33 I Am – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
33 The Hands of the Clock - Maria C. Faverio
34 Two Ponds - Kathleen Cesaro
34 Lovers - Jon Marin
34 Brave - Hernan R. Chang, M.D.
34 A Love Supreme – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
34 Moonlight - Hernan R. Chang, M.D.
35 Who Done It? - Paul Nachbar
35 Manifesto: The Not-Quite-Dead-Yet-Poet's-Society - Paul Nachbar
36 Mole - Hernan R. Chang, M.D.
36 Poem: For Contnuiing Ed.. – Paul Nachbar
37 Chronic Condition – Paul Nachbar
37 Regarding Everything Between Us – Paul Nachbar
38 Snowbirds – Kathleen Cesaro
38 Response to a Raisin Hater – Sean MacNiven
38 Mind Landscape – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
38 Cup of Emptiness - Peter (Krax) Ingestad
38 The Garden – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
39 She Sits * - Mark Norman
40 Confusion and Control - Krysta Sutterfield
40 No Title – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
40 A Haiku Style Metapoem – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
41 Bad Poetry – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
41 I Am A Stranger – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
41 Cool Romance – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
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P RO S E I N D E X
Page No.
2 Heavy Breath – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
2 The Choice - Torg (Tom) Hadley
3 Six-Degrees of Separation - Paul F. Kisak
6 Dementialism - Daniele Pinna
8 Reply Dementialism - Merlin Carl
8 New Anxiety Disorder Discovered - Paul Nachbar
9 More High IQ Hazards - Paul Nachbar
10 Thanks, Paoullissimo! - Thomas(Torg) Hadley
12 Eclogue (EK-log) noun - Paul Kisak
12 First part The Graduate Revsited - Paul Nachbar
19 The World's Least Practical Idea - Paul Nachbar
19 Windows of the World Poem - Paul Nachbar
20 Pican Dialogues Continued - Paul Nachbar
22 Mediocrity Incorporated - Paul Nachbar
23 When I Write Poetry - A. J. Nordström
23 Aphorisms – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
P S YC H OM E T RY I N D E X
Page No.
25 Puzzle – Maria C. Faverio
25 The Kraxpelax Test Of Intuitive Intelligence (version 1) – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
25 Test Puzzle – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
29 A Letter Test – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
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ANNOUNCEMENTS
Page No.
30 Barry Howard in Integra - Mark Norman
30 Divine Madness - Mario Faverio
30 International High IQ Society Debate Winner - Kay Lindgren
30 Dear Mr Ryan Sloan,
31 4th Iinternational Contest of the Ludomind Society - Albert Frank
32 Virus, Spam, and Spies oh My! - Dusk Wilson Weaver
33 How to Publish Your Own Chapbook – Workshop – Gina Page
34 Creativity and the Religious Science Practitioner by Greg Grove Psy.D. - Mark Norman
34 Spoken Poetry Page Addition by Hernan Chang M.D. - Mark Norman
34 Hello Members - Mark Norman
NEW MEMBERS INDEX
Page No.
35 Kathleen Cesaro
35 David Ellis
35 Hernan R. Chang, M.D.
36 Peter (Krax) Ingestad
36 Irene Theocharis
Disciplinal Poetry of the Issue - Senryu
by Maria C. Faverio
Senryu - by Maria C Faverio
Senryu is a form of Japanese poetry named after Karai Hachiemon (1718-1790), a man who wrote under
the pen name Senryu (“River Willow”) and also acted as a judge at contests of maekuzuku (“verse
capping”). However, he himself wrote no senryu.
“Verse capping” was an old form of literary entertainment in which a given short verse of 14 syllables was
“capped” by a longer verse of 17 syllables to produce a 31-syllable poem in the traditional tanka form.
In 1765 Karai Senryu published a selection of tsukeku (the capping portions of these poems), which
became very popular and was followed by many more volumes compiled by Senryu himself as well as his
followers. These tsukeku eventually came to be known as senryu.
Contrary to the haiku, they did not require an However, as time went by, these rules became
introductory season word. They were at first less strictly observed.
written in 17 (5-7-5) or 14 (7-7) syllables.
-6-
Senryu usually convey less conventional kuchi o suwareta
images than haiku, and are often humorous or ishi Jizo.
satiric and about human foibles. They express
everyday truths and happenings in succinct The circus goes away,
verse. leaving behind holes
in the ground.
As a matter of fact, many writers who think
they are writing haiku, are actually composing Chi ni ana o
senryu. nokoshite kyokubadan wa
tachi.
Senryu are the proof that poetry can be found
in anything. A mayfly –
born to have just a glimpse
A few examples of the world.
The tip of the branch Kagero wa
believes in the hidden chotto sekai o
life of the root. mi ni umare.
Ne ni hisomu The eminent priest
inochi shinjita isn‟t far from
eda no saki. being a fool.
Meiso no
Shoichi baka o suru koto
tokarazu.
The stone saint
is kissed on the mouth Genkaibo
by a slug.
Human cruelty –
Namekuji ni swatting flies as
they make love.
Hae no koi
hito wa mujo no
hae tataki.
Every single bug that can,
is singing –
a beautiful moonlit night.
Nakeru mushi
minna naiteru
ii tsukijo.
Kenjo
-2-
Member’s Senrya Poetry
Bitter Brew - David Ellis tiny lizard
doing pushups.
of medicine has exorcized
the malignant grey mass,
an unborn evil twin.
Opiate Infatuate – Mark Norman
Senryu - Inuit Angel - Michael Zerger Opiate infatuate
drowning each other
Lifeless Inukshuk gasping souls dead blue in love
no ears no eyes and no hands
signpost for life.
Dire - Mark Norman Fat Black Housefly - Kay Lindgren
Dire urge for melded love Fat black housefly
found, we become one zooms into my ear.
to struggle to free our souls Say, what's the buzz?
True - Mark Norman Water Falling - Kay Lindgren
True love, a life line water falling
mutually held into a granite cauldron,
Tin can and a string strung taut stirring up the pot.
Deep - Mark Norman
Deep thought, brings souls periphery Senryu-Niño Feliz - Jorge González López
fear of the next step
tempts insanity or flush La lluvia moja
la húmeda esfera áurea
de un niño feliz.
Lifeless Inukshuk - Michael Zerger
Lifeless Inukshuk Senryu-Happy child (translation) - Jorge
no ears no eyes and no hands González López
signpost for life.
The mellow rain soaks
the wet and golden sphere
Schefflera Leaves - Kay Lindgren of a happy child.
Schefflera leaves
babble at the breeze -
green tongues gossip. Bold Daddy - Kathleen Cesaro
Bold Daddy Longlegs
On Exercise Mat: - Kay Lindgren tiptoes through arm hair forest
tickle me timbers!
On exercise mat:
-8-
Dilutions of Grandeur - Jon Marin
Innocence - Kathleen Cesaro
He's a dash of salt
Who, pinched into the ocean, short measure of string
Thought "I'm POSEIDON". thin stick of paraffin wax
candlelight wedding
Beyond beyond - Kathleen Cesaro
Faster yet than speed,
appearing as motionless, Doc, how many days - Kathleen Cesaro
answer precedes probe.
"Doc, how many days
do I have left to enjoy?"
"All of them," he said.
Spring Fling - Kathleen Cesaro
Dominos begin
falling for one another;
maybe dots like life. Yoga in the Park - Kathleen Cesaro
Yoga in the park,
More than 64! - Kay Lindgren body parts this way and that,
keeps her head on straight.
More than 64!
Chessboard lies in mirror box,
builds up its image.
KT, LeG: - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
A Christmas Card Found at Easter –Jon Marin
joyous smiles
Squares of spring sunshine resurrected daily
Frame bunnies and painted eggs. angel's flight
LOOK! A Christmas card! taken mundanely
In winter twilight
A rural church's windows On Branch Glazed - Kay Lindgren
Warm the holiday.
On branch glazed with ice,
Thick snow-covered pines making calls, all unanswered:
Reflect bright stained-glass colors a persistent crow.
To tinted snowbanks.
Enthusiastic Lark Singing in Sol - Kay Lindgren
Singing of childhood carols
Deepens the colors. Lark singing in Sol
heckled by critical crow
Lit scene-filled windows caw - cacophony.
Connect the congregation
To the scene outside.
White boughs resonate
With the choir's harmonies.
Shhh! I'm listening.
-9-
Hopping - Maria C. Faverio
Commuters - Maria C. Faverio
Hopping into
Commuters at the middle of nowhere –
the railway station – a lonely kangaroo.
a necklace of black pearls.
Frolicking - Maria C. Faverio
Notorious- Maria C. Faverio
Frolicking under
I ask the notorious the moonlit summer sky –
void for enlightment – it nods insomniac frogs.
its huge head and smiles.
Sitting - Maria C. Faverio
Hours - Maria C. Faverio
Sitting in the one-
Hours rush in and out, wheeled cart drinking in the light –
the river flows on – my only a horde of mad horses.
companion, a moth.
Carousel - Maria C. Faverio
Pointed - Maria C. Faverio
Carousel of joy
I pointed my finger loaded on shamelessly naked
at God – swiftly, He disappeared trees – for madmen only.
behind the full moon.
Simplicities - Maria C. Faverio
Ants - Maria C. Faverio
Great simplicities
Two ants making love revelling in pools of sunshine,
on the top of an anthill – molten ice-cream.
mini earthquake.
Peaceless - Maria C. Faverio
Peaceless in my phantom
Resting- Maria C. Faverio dwelling, I stride to and
fro - broken wings.
Resting in my shadow –
a tired fly trying to escape
a flycatcher. Excited - Maria C. Faverio
Excited birds
Leafless- Maria C. Faverio at dawn herald a new day,
humans turn in their beds.
On a leafless bough
piercing the cloudless sky –
a featherless crow.
Motionless - Maria C. Faverio
Trapped - Maria C. Faverio
Motionless visions,
Trapped in the mosquito meditation‟s peace and bliss,
net – a one-winged butterfly turtles in the sun.
with green antennae.
- 10 -
Snowman - Maria C. Faverio I will go lie with the worms.
They will eat me up.
Snowman with a hat,
a scarf and a cigarette,
but, ay!, without brain. Forest - Hernan R. Chang M.D.
This leafy forest
hides a natural fountain
Dying - Kay Lindgren I wish it would rain!
Dying to be loved,
Next Issues Disciplinal Poetry – Lachesis
By Kay Lindgren
The precise origin of the lachesis is unknown. It is likely to be a relatively recent invention by a poet of
the New Formalist movement. It is popular among members of the National Federation of State Poetry
Societies (USA). Its invention has been credited to one Robert "Amigo" DeWitt, who lives in Louisiana.
Amigo has published over a thousand poems and has won more than a hundred awards. A World War II
veteran, Amigo taught English and coached football in the Duval County, Florida, school system before
retiring during the 1980's.
The lachesis consists of eighteen iambic pentameter lines in alternating tercets and couplets. The rhyme
scheme is :
AAA BB CCC DD EEE FF GGG
Since English is not rich in rhymes, the lachesis presents a profound challenge.
I share the first and second prize winners of the Lachesis Award in the National Federation of State Poetry
Society's 1994 contest. These poems were published in Encore, the NFSPS anthology of prize poems.
A Memory of Wings - Gail Teachworth Though fragile dream-wings only last one
night,
remembering continues in the light.
My dream is yellow-green, like lemon tea,
a pleasant form of floating, fancy-free
above a field of flowers, like a bee. Metric Manifesto - Robert Shelford
I find myself content to flit around
a little over two feet off the ground. We rhyming poets are a lonely bunch,
Creating verse with even metric punch,
Perspective from this point is rather strange, Smug academics think we're out to lunch.
it takes some time adjusting to the change.
Amused, but quite unable to arrange Most simple people also think we're jerks
With sad anachronistic mental quirks.
my thoughts in any order making sense,
the fantasy of flight is so intense. Who cares, in days of video and fax,
If sugar cane and ascertain will match
I'm going with the flow, as some might say, Or anapestic beats should get the axe.
adrift through flower-power's hideaway
where anything is possible today. Much easier to trash tradition's rules
And other writing skills once taught in schools.
If morning finds me grounded to the Earth,
I'll know I have enjoyed, for all its worth, Smart free-verse scribes scorn proper
punctuation,
the dream of wings, the hovering, this flight. Mix random words defying conjugation,
- 11 -
Enjoy obscurity and obfuscation. I am fortunate to know Amigo, Gail and
Robert, all three of whom generously offer me
Despite their jibes, we strange ones try to free help with my writing.
write
Sweet metric songs to treasure and delight.
Most free verse seems forgettable, for sure.
I'd rather draft, as masters have before,
A line like "Quoth the Raven, Nevermore!"
POETRY
So Many Questions, Not So Many Answers - You and me alone.
Irene Theocharis I realize that you are like
iced-water to my thirsty soul,
I think why should I live the pain, that I need your love
That only god has brought. as I need fresh air to breathe.
I question his existence,
I question life and death, In this silent night
I question the efluvium inscence, covered by shining stars
I question the envenomous breath. I imagine you sitting beside me
I strive to play the game of life, and telling me nice things
I rarely win and mostly lose, while we are watching the sky.
I want to end this miserable strife,
I want to break my major fuse. In this silent night
I have a dream that won't come true, I remember how many times you stood by me
A dream in which I learn to love, when I needed you,
A dream I can tell only to the select few, how many times I have found comfort in your
A dreadful baron in me that I will hove. arms
Where I will breathe for the last time, when I felt so blue.
and all my horror will be laid to rest,
I will commit my hideous crime, In this silent night
I will meet god and do my best. covered with shining stars
I remember you my love
and I realize that we are one, just one.
This Garden - Peter (Krax) Ingestad
This garden, a calm Prestidigitation - David Ellis
voice, a strange man standing on
his head somewhere else. Like feathers falling to earth,
the cards produced by a magician
flutter.
We are Just One - Hernan R. Chang M.D.
Some land in a top hat,
sitting on the table
In this silent night
under his hand.
covered by shining stars
I am thinking of you.
Others on the tablecloth,
In these timeless moments
a sheer silky fabric.
I am wondering about what
you really mean to me, my love.
Only a few make it to the floor,
but one lands
There are no more clouds in my mind
in a shallow puddle
It is just your memories and me.
- 12 -
of water from the previous trick. Aye, me hearty!
I slash at Ghosties upon th' pitch 'n' yaw o' th'
At the end of the show, deck..
after hearty applause Me pulse throbs me eyes
and a bow or two, as I flick me rapier into foggy enemy-mines...
the magician collects his things. Me chest's a barrel a-heavin', salt rimes me
lips,
Late into the night, blood's on me tongue, I thirst for Rum...
the card, I wish to wield the cat and rip Death's
abandoned, flesh asunder!
wallows in wetness. Yet, at steeled Dawn, I find
I'm tied to the Mast with leather thongs,
betrayed, Oh Treacherous Mutiny!
Lady's Choice - Kathleen Cesaro Above, my breath's stolen by
a monstrous wave reaching from the Sunne
to crush me into Black Oblivion...
Many swagger boldly into her den, I am Torg, the Cat Pirate,
Displaying pieces of their labors and I lived long ago, mate...
To win her favor and proposition her. I dwell now in this Mortal Coil,
penning word-worldly snippets,
She dismisses their dreams 'stead of runnin' the Strait laden wi'
And Shrivels their assets Pearls, rubies, emeralds, and gold...
With the flick of an indifferent finger. Somedays, I'm like a young lad,
Others, I remember how many lives I've lived,
Then, hoarding her charms, and I feel so Olde.
She pirouettes across the felted tables, Keep yer riggin' tight, Dusty.
Beckoning flirtatiously to each captive fool. There are yet many Tales to be told.
Until, drawn to the eyes of a kindred soul,
She's scooped into his shirt pocket and Response to a Raisin Hater - Sean MacNiven
Carried off,
Clinging to the Gambler's steady heart. The rains are razin' raisins to the ground,
See how they fall, so sadly not quite round,
Dark matter in my muesli, stockpiles dried,
5 Haikus for Hell‟s Angels – Peter (Krax) Hydration yet another time defied,
Ingestad Yet your distaste I cannot comprehend,
And now must raisinkind promptly defend!
Love of a pure heart, For raisins are a gem of sunlight tamed,
splendor of chastity, roads And with their kin Sultanas duly famed,
to Eternity - What Student's mix would be complete
without,
This landscape is mine: A raisin's voiceless flavour branding shout!?
the wind! the speed! the spirit! I love them for their tangy pungent breaths,
Body, Soul, Spirit. And thank them for their desiccated deaths,
Yea! Raisins mummified, may we ensure,
Love, Drugs, Violence; That you the sandy eons long endure!
three flowers of Innocence,
Lord, from me, for Thee.
Age - Tine Wilde
Dark light found: a beech,
birds, objective, a lake NOW, A Loreley well on in years
wherever roads end. amidst a thousand wrinkles
two blue spots
This landscape indeed and only prospect
is ours, this windy day - of a brick blind wall.
Body, Void, Spirit!
That fair hair nowadays
can stay forever,
Aye, Me Hearty! - Torg (Tom) Hadley but what she lived for has gone aboard.
- 13 -
Moments of uncontrollable weeping will
Apercu* - Kathleen Cesaro possibly ensue.
Or perhaps he will wait till I have left the room
Some rush to sob in silence.
their lives in fast-forward
run-on sentences without periods What can I say? I‟m sorry…this is not the end
not even commas to request a deep However, I know that there will be nothing that
delicious breath I can say or that I can do to ease this kind of
They flee prophetic moments past and flog pain.
the ticking present No pain-killers will quell this pain.
grasping gripping precious Because this is not a bodily illness.
milliseconds of the future
lest they escape This in fact a disease of the soul.
Some cower,
cringing in corners, Shall Self-Will - Torg (Tom) Hadley
too petrified to
even flinch. Shall self-will choose
Their magnified eye spies Love
vultures stalking, circling Denial
like a slow-motion or Indecision?
tornado, All are self-fulfilling prophecies,
path unknown. n'est-ce pas?
Unearned rigor mortis.
So few serene
see no need for greed or speed Dark Haiku - Krysta Sutterfield
or skulking cowardice facing the last shift.
They glow in hugs of sunlight, Tormented thoughts whirl
refresh in daybreak dew. round inside me. Thunderstorms
They know about the Light gather, coming soon.
and delight in every daisy, petals intact,
exhilarated surfers skimming the wave of time,
assured of loving welcome at San Antonio: - Jon Marin
the shore.
San Antonio:
Went up to the Alamo,
A Disease of the Soul - Hernan R. Chang M.D. Their Thermopolae.
The fret waiting will end soon. Nice place to visit;
The test‟s result has been delayed for several I wouldn't want to die there:
days. Kudos to heroes.
I called the lab to find about it.
The test‟s result was deferred because this test Heavy history:
was not considered “urgent” by the laboratory. Are Texans Spartans at heart?
River Walk is next.
Finally, the lab called me to tell me
that the test was repeatedly positive.
I have to be now the conveyer of bad news. No the Problem Here Is - Paul Nachbar
I have done this before and it is not easy to do
it. No the problem here is
He will stare at me and then he will look Too much God and Satan here
straightway into my eyes To be and not to be.
and will ask, so? What is the result?
His face will express uneasiness, consternation
and finally upsetting when the test‟s result Forget It - Paul Nachbar
will be disclosed to him.
- 14 -
To be or not to be
To be AND not to be We once were strong.
Oh forgit it We once had trends.
Let me watch TV! We once stood tall.
We once were friend's.
Paradigm to the Masses
- Wallace W. Rhodes Never-ending Lullabye - Daniele Pinna
Chide not their ennui. I sit and lie;
Beyond apprehension, I laugh and cry;
Their life, as morning fog, I see and touch;
A shadowy declension. I smell and sigh.
I think of this;
First Kiss - Daniele Pinna I think of that;
I think of me:
The sailboat sways, I see my cat.
the sails are down,
the lines are tied; She sits and stares,
I feel a sound. not asking why
she lives right here,
I look away; or why birds fly.
I focus promptly,
a storm's arising; I look outside:
the drum keeps calling. never-ending clouds;
I sense infinity;
I see a crowd.
I touch the water;
it stirs there calmly. People dancing;
You hold my fingers; people laughing;
I caress you softly. people living,
but not asking.
You sit by me;
I look at you; I feel my watch
You lean on me: it's ticking shy.
your heart beats too. I feel myself;
I start to cry.
I feel you here;
we both stop time; A second's up,
I kiss your lips, another too,
salty like mine. time goes on
but you stay you.
Once… - Daniele Pinna
Midlife-Crisis of a Twenty Year Old - Merlin Carl
I see you gleaming.
I see you smiling. I miss the future of my past, so big and pride
I wish you'd call. I miss the girl, in these times by my side.
I wish you'd mind me.
I miss the sunshine and the thundering
I feel you distant. I miss my lonely thoughtfull wandering
You keep on fading.
I feel amidst us, I miss my father, gone when I was twelve,
our cloth is tearing. I miss my hopefull sixteen-year-old self.
You think of you. One thing cheers up in seeing old times dead
I think of me. One thought, my greatest hope and threat:
We both think of who
is not us we. In lucky spots of wisdom, I can tell
- 15 -
I´ll miss these nower dancing days as well. I so keenly seek to enjoin;
I, the Wizards' Apprentice.
Wizard - T. G. "Torg" Hadley
Either/Or - Paul Nachbar
Magick's Soul cannot be sold Either/or
nor bought, borrowed, grasped, nor caught. The answer to that terrible question
"What is the meaning of life?"
Shadows past: spun yarns, dream-woven; Is some arbitrary bit of data numerical or
our Vision, diaphanous. verbal
Like for instance 42
Spells spoken, hearts broken, joys: Or some brute in your face reality
all echoes, silent-fallen. Or some attractive or unattractive but
debatable
to Catch Lightning in a jar, Set of propositions
or seduce Aphrodite Or just "I feel"
Or what is probably true
I labor so, whilst waxing The World is a Poem
my crafted Wings on Crete's cliff.
I am Daedelus, I am Truth, Life - Dr. Gregg Grove
Icarus; Narcissus, too.
Life is here, for the taking...
My Divinations astound No need to hide, no need faking
my wry Imaginations Forsake the unreal, unmask and dive in
Find the waters of Reality...begin.
Yet I cannot conjure
a distillation of Now. Scurry here and there, ever wasting moments
Living from others' expectations, wishful
To Dwell vibrant in Moments torrents
Unceasing, to suspend grave Gravity Forsake the unreal, unmask and dive in
Enjoy the waters of Reality...begin.
Is my wanton, vain Desire:
yet, so I strive, a Wizard Drink to satisfy, not to excess
Prove Yourself, find true success
seeking a Time without Time, Forsake the unreal, unmask and dive in
leaning on a staff of Aire There you'll rival Reality...begin.
My beard's gone bone-white, yet my
Eyes are clear, clouded only Echoed - Thom Hadley
by compassion for my Brothers, the sensation of migration
my Sisters here beside me... spied as a ruby-spark golden flash
heard in
I hear their Voices as Heaven's hummingbird's wings
Chorus, vibrating my Soul. scented in delirious perfume of
white-starred flowering evergreen Clematis
They sing of Humanity's vine
Passions, of disillusions, the sense of 'caesura' is
the silent riot of crocus
of inborn Nobility rampant, purpling cocoa-brown moist earth
of creeping, Dark Ennui. crazygreen grass hulking up
daffy-odils bustin' toward the sunglowheat
to capture moonlight's Whisper tulips demurely appearing in debutante
to distill Sun in a Word Cotillion
awaiting their cue
this is the Magick I weeping pussywillow, an umbrella of furry
would practise, these are such Moments branches
- 16 -
shelters yet-sleeping tiger lilies in dark bark "Snowbird!" he accused.
below I ask, "What's wrong with that?
a single crimson rhododendron blossom "Postal Delivery"
nodding They'll catch me if they need me.
now "Resources"
knowing the sun has come home again... Everywhere.
these are such days we have awaited all "Driver's license"
winter-long You can ride in my slipstream.
perhaps I shall depart as the arrowflights "Auto Registration"
of geese Movement by Ancestral Memory.
heading to nest southward next winter "Passport"
I, heighing to the red rocks of I know who I am.
Sedona... "Voting"
The humpback, the gray whales, the Trust in those who know the seasons.
hummingbird, the geese; "Taxes"
these and so many other creatures, unlike Nutrient Cycling.
us, "Jury duty"
know the ebb and flow, I am witness to the rising sun.
following the sun, "You are not giving back to the community."
riding and guiding on electromagnetic (sigh) What is a humpback or hummer to do?
gravity-signals...
we can't feel them now
we have TV... To the Group - Kathleen Cesaro
aye, there's the rub.
Take one daily, for best results... Katie
Opposites - Kathleen Cesaro Into the morning, I aim west
to eye my shadowy competitor.
I smirk at innocuous vituperation zipping Lean and long, she shares my footprints
beneath his radar like an F-15. and my strides
He guffaws his delight at banalities grinding and gives me winks of limitless energy.
their way into my all-too-permeable skin.
My thoughts jump and kick,
He corrals a raucous crowd and holds them nipping back at the crisp air,
spellbound for hours. as I stoke the furnace in my chest.
I squiggle off to do chameleon impressions on
the ceiling. Rhythm comes
with metronome beats of my feet:
I am quicker than Br'er Rabbit. pum-pum-pum-pum
He is a flipped-over land tortoise. and a two-beat bass of deep breaths:
IN--HALE, EX--HALE.
He is Fearless Soldier, charging into Like scuba breathing, the sound whooshes
Armageddon. through my head and quiets the world.
I am mite, clinging to the Eagle's wing feather.
Turning south,
I nourish my senses with flights of imagination. my competition pulls alongside,
He wears his appetite on his frame. elbowing my ego.
We scorch across the sand, aligned.
He leans into rooted rows with oxen-like I punch the space in front of me,
strength. grab the distance and feed it
I rationalize, fantasize, procrastinate, and to gobbling strides.
deviate.
Another turn, into silence,
Lifelong Love: without friend or wind, left to cook
Incomprehensible symbiosis of polar ends. in my own air.
I soothe my heartbeat
and cruise home on auto-pilot,
sending glowing rays of spent energy
Migration - Kathleen Cesaro to kiss the morning sun.
- 17 -
I wonder, have I borrowed too much? Let us also try not to jump through mostly
Then a steambath rises from me, Practical hoops
returning moisture to desert lily and poisonous We just weren't meant to jump through.
lizard And mostly forget about Serenity
alike From any source
For us the Ultimate Pipedream
Ahwomen....
Poetry or Pirouette - Kathleen Cesaro
Cronus - Thom Hadley
Poetry or Pirouette,
there must be something I don't get. So is always, always Time, whether seen
I work on every single bit; paned, or in cave
still, "perfect" never seems to fit. we are craven or brave, inspired or just too
I'm pushed too hard, ignoring love, damned tired
the one essential they're made of. in constancy, it waxes and wanes, Apollo and
They both are meant to make us FEEL, Luna...
and that's the only way they're real time is one's soul, an parenthetical gasp
'twixt cradle and grave...
Poetry or Ballotte,
I think I'll throw my heart away. always, always, lights shine in eyes
Could I but give these gifts to you, ever, ever light dies from mine, is reborn...
I'm sure you'd know just what to do, ever since, yet evermore, shall my spirit
to somehow bring them up to speed, shine...
enriching those with lives of greed.
But skeleton is all there'd be, "Rage, rage against the dying of the Light"...
if you should own the best of me. Dylan saith: Do not go gentle into that dark
Night.
Poetry or Terre-a-terre,
I've given up; I just don't care.
Ode to the Pentaquark - Paul Nachbar
My best was never good enough,
and, yeah, I know that life is tough,
just created/discovered or recreated in the lab,
but shouldn't there be room for me,
the pentaquark consists of five count em
for work of mediocrity
quarks or very very small particles which make
that comes from essence deep within
up the usual electrons, neutrons and protons
and I can pass to next-of-kin?
bound into a new particle or maybe form of
matter which is very real apparantly but lasts
Poetry or Grand Jete,
like 10-23 seconds.Well, from the point of view
I tried, my gifts won't go away.
of the pentaquark, this probably feels like a
I guess it's true, they're part of me,
very long time. From our point of view,
my soul when it is soaring free.
absolutely nothing. From other points of view
I care not if you disapprove.
regarding time and space, like who the hell are
I'll simply write, I'll simply move.
WE to talk? Yeah, I know, the only ones
They both are meant to make me FEEL,
apparantly talking..
and that's the only way I'M real.
Ode to the Pentaquark
Poets Prayer (age 46) - Paul Nachbar
Oh i was really in the dark
Then read about the pentaquark
Forgive us our idiocies, our so-called successes
And thought that it was very sweet
Our trespasses we are mostly (semi-secretly)
That five of those could somehow meet
proud of
And with nothing else to do
Our idiocies? Inevitable, legion, though mostly
Become for some time something new.
debatable
Let us try to forgive these and not endlessly
What bound them there one does not know
debate
Perhaps they had noplace to go?
Inside our own small brains
Or knew here something we did not
Or hope too much for not very credible
Or something that we had forgot
magic.from elsewhere
Well scientists will find this out
Life is short.
But does that make one twist and shout?
- 18 -
I know you're here.
I think for moments not so long (If you are listening to me),
The five of us became a song could you please tell me:
And though this was not loud or bold Who?
It shone bright magic through the cold What?
The experts said our lives a waste Where?
Perhaps they sometimes speak in haste? Why?
Oh i could spill some lovely ink For Jon - Thomas Hadley
And make some raunchy popular stink
And some of this is always true well, it's true that summer starts on July 5th.
I gossip not a bit of this we did have an 85 degree day ten days ago.
For if one blames or credits them then we had .85 inches of rain, ok.
They always do the same to you. i was born and raised across the lake from
Seattle.
Oh I was getting oh so sad
Oh yes i knew the world was bad now i live across the salty puddle of Puget
And not so lovely, sordid crap Sound
Which always landed on my lap from the Emerald City.
Beneath All Facts this sparking poem? i have skied the Austrian alps
Perhaps I'm not..entirely ...alone? dined in die Schweiz, in Mont Blanc-Chamonix,
seen the Louvre, Florence, and Reichs-
Questions - Kathleen Cesaro Museum,
scaled St. Peter's Dome,
Hello, Star... wandered Venice,
Couldn't sleep. quaffed god's rainwater on the Rhine,
(If not Sneaky Planet behind a facade of
reflected light), sipped tea at Damascus Gate,
could you please tell me: coffeed at Istanbul's Bazaar,
Who put you circling in the sky to keep quenched with Retsina in Athens,
watchful eye on us? Slavonika in Croatia,
What do they call you, and what do you call
me? coarse wine outside Thessaloniki....
Where was I when you were born? ate goat yogurt, swam cerulean seas, and
Why are you winking at me? slept in Crete's caves,
gargled Chatenuef-du-Pape in a tent France's
Hello, Sun... fields,
I see you're up.
(Just a teensy hint about solar power--please?) walked Italy's cottswolds and lanes lined with
Could you please tell me: crosses,
Who made you the center of our solar system? trod the Appian Way and scented the
What do we give you, in return for warmth and Colloseum....
light? of all these places,
Where are you taking us, at speeds we can't and of my love, my fondness for them all,
comprehend?
Why do you smile anew at each dreadful day? only Cascadia is truly my home.
Cascadia, the land of Orcas and Sasquatch,
Hello, Moon... of Salmon, the Raven, the Bear,
You're glowing tonight. and of the Eagle.
(Is my far-away love looking up at you, too?)
Could you please tell me: Here, I am native,
Who is to say, if night follows day, or day born of this earth alone.
follows night? Seasons are only seen by one being's eyes
What do you say to wolves to make them one day at a time....
howl?
Where would you go, if we set you free? You can change your ground,
Why do you pull us, this way and that--is it a but you can't change your sky.
game?
Hello, God...
- 19 -
somehow sitting here
on a green chair on a rug
in an apartment in a building
on a street in a neighborhood
in a town in a state
(Listening to Random Stuff on a Random Local in a country on the globe
Radio Station) - Paul Nachbar i realize this is no imperial robe...
thinking more of sonnets here than widgets
somehow sitting here it is easy to end up upside down
and listening to the Spirit in the Sky or rightside up or out in space
i no longer care what is what or down below where some folks drown
or what was or is true or not or real or not or simply absolutely odd
or what was or is bad or good or whatever now the werewolves of London may or may not
or what was partly this or mostly that really be there
hey, great thinkers dot the encyclopedia but they sound cool so I don't care
and some university faculties
and occasionally the New York Times Sunday
Section What's the Point? - Karin Lindgren
and they know better
and I can at least paraphrase most or The point is,
comment or innovate period.
well good for them: Connect the dots
i am writing sonnets in a world of widgets bright in the dark.
and need protection The picture will take form.
even if the proection is somewhat insane.
The point is,
somehow sitting here arrowhead
and knowing the feeling once again tells if your shots
i dont' care what is different and what is the have hit the mark,
same or if you're cold or warm.
or who is to credit or to blame
or who won or lost in anything The point is
writing sonnets in a world of widgets needle, pin,
or what is apparantly a world of widgets where angels dance
hell who cares upon the head
i might sometimes forget my own name and camels cross the eye.
i need protection
from the indirection The point is
even if some of it is utterly insane. fingering
the guilty glance.
somehow sitting here What is not said
as nowhere as anyone can be will crack the alibi.
i make glass seem as solid as steel
writing sonnets in a world of widgets
oh no this can't be entirely real No line to trace,
different message on the radio no bow to shoot,
the sky the same no seam to baste -
labor and capital prices for the widgets The point is moot.
trends and interest rates and opportunities
and innovations ups and downs in related
markets Just Feeling Pythonesque, This Morning! -
raw materials management crises technology Thomas (Torg) Hadley
whatever
books of solutons dull and clever (As Tufftat Dibble, I dabbled at piracy
all markets being first or second cousins at in trebled basso profundo "In the Navy"
most distant making like Travolta, index finger up and hip-
business worse or better or the same. swaying,
i'm writing sonnets in a world of widgets with my plastic saber gesticulating
who cares if anything's to credit or to blame? sailing seas of silliness
- 20 -
happy to be alive
scowling, skulking,
toothily goofing... The Echo of the Silence - Hernan R. Chang
now, that curtain has fallen The streets are empty now
the audience dispersed Wish I have a beer to calm my thirst
i scribble wavelets of verse In this warm summer night
which slap against I can hear the echo of my own steps
my barnacled boards.... Going down the street
I can hear also the echo of your voice in my
I await to see what heart
the next tide may bring... I wish I have more time to tell you what I have
in my heart
I guess it‟s late and I ran out of time
For Paul Godot - Thomas (Torg) Hadley You are gone long ago
I don‟t need to explain anymore
Thus, Your name will be just a memory
dining on chicken, wine, Next time I think of you
hearing humans hen-cackle in Next time I hear from you
a magickal wireless box: It will be like the echo of the silence
their "ado" about muchly nothing... Like the emptiness of the echo of the silence.
ones sonnets
are more important The streets are empty now
than w.c.w's "red wheelbarrow in the rain"; Wish I can stop thinking about you
everything depends upon In this warm summer night
a poetic soul I can hear the echo of my thoughts
scribbling Going down the street
lightning I can hear the echo of your voice in my soul
beside such glazed chickens. I wish I have more time to tell you what I have
inside
I guess it‟s late and I ran out of time
"Beyond Tachyon" - Thomas (Torg) Hadley You‟re no longer here
I don‟t need to explain anymore
postulated: tachyons faster than light; Your name will be just a memory
Next time I think of you
thought is faster than tachyhons?
Next time I hear from you
'tis a wavicle or particlon?
It will be like the echo of the silence
two points can exist from one source
up/down until viewed: observer effect. Like the emptiness of the echo of the silence
Because you‟ll be no longer here
there is no stasis Because you‟ll be gone.
but hyperstasis which is a frequency of flow
so intense it is
appearing to be still, a consistent
inconsistency.
Drugged and Drowsy - David Ellis
does a ganglia exist without the next?
A drugged and drowsy
does a neuron have entity? mind wanders, waxing
philosophical or dreaming
does a muon notice unrestrained: disjointed
the Moon? kiddy boy, slumbering cute,
carefree and skipping.
if superstring theory is correct,
hasn't this posting
been presupposed
by you?
Attempting to Write - David Ellis
- 21 -
Attempting to write, I find slim words formed Una mañana cualquiera llena de aventuras.
Thinly by waking moments, through rainclouds Una tarde plena de trajín y de ajetreo.
Storming up thunder and lightning, enough Una noche cálida inundada de detalles
To awaken all but the deep sleeper, intrascendentes.
The log, saturated by blood poison. Una jornada atareada y simplemente llena
de...felicidad.
Me detengo un momento para mirar al
horizonte
Searching for the White Knight Sir John - Mark y poder dar gracias a no sé quien por dejarme
Norman* sentir el efecto inigualable de la presencia
humana
All coconut and jasmine cada día de mi vida.
white satin's caresses Para dar gracias por permitirme utilizar todos
so lonely, as accepting mis sentidos
his all too taboo menthol kisses y darle “sentido” a mi vida.
Sin esperar respuesta miro de nuevo al
So long in cold hollowness horizonte y
under stained wallpaper skies prosigo mi camino.
grunts and groans covered by her false little
sighs Me detengo de nuevo para pensar en voz alta:
from the obscene shift of shadow above the ¡que éste sea un gran día para recordar!
headboard Que éste sea al mismo tiempo
un día memorable para redescubrir de manera
She slips into her dreams, shutting her eyes retrospectiva.
held tight in make believe Que cuando me vea al espejo ésta noche antes
protecting their blue fathoms de irme a dormir
well beyond his embrace and heaving brutish me diga mientras me miro fíjamente a los
cries ojos:
ya ves? Esta es la verdadera felicidad.
A/C cooled air, soured with sweat Sí, la felicidad auténtica.
a musky relief as he
rolls to the side, she notices the red stain La felicidad no se mide con las chequeras del
from the corner of her bruised lips smeared banco.
upon the sheets La felicidad se mide con la calidad de los
recuerdos.
No whispers here, hollowness Que mis recuerdos sean testigos partisanos de
only, reality registers with "just another guy" mi felicidad.
rising so empty from this her favorite lie Que ellos sean parte de la muchedumbre que
shoes dangling loosely, black pumps, by her me aclame sin condición,
side y que me hagan disfrutar de manera
reiterativa y hedonista.
Looking for love, it's no longer the money O que mis recuerdos sean mis críticos más
the cost of escape rises, as the years pass on tenaces
she winces as she dresses, leaving for the next y que mi mayor castigo y condena sean
john esos mismos recuerdos por los errores que
and a negotiated fee for her last chance cometí.
romances
¿Cómo poder describir la felicidad?
La felicidad es una cosa cotidiana.
La felicidad está llena de simplicidad.
La felicidad es libre de impurezas.
Es brillante como el sol del mediodía en un día
de primavera.
Sí, yo pienso que la felicidad está hecha de los
recuerdos
de una jornada atareada y memorable.
Sí, aunque nos resistamos a creerlo
La Felicidad - Hernan R. Chang ella está al alcance de todos sin distinción
alguna.
- 22 -
La felicidad está hecha simplemente…de Kay,
nuestros mejores recuerdos..
This Sonnet is for you.
Mentor - Kathleen Cesaro
For: Someone or Something - Paul Nachbar Though sharing gifts is not what many do,
especially what they've learned through years
It doesn't matter if I'm sane or not of strife,
I've been the victim of so many harms at times there are a very treasured few,
Though here I too have done my share of who'll guide the novice and enrich a life.
wrongs
Please hold me in your more than human arms The water at the deepest part of lakes
is still, beneath the rushing of the wave,
It doesnt' matter if you're there or not quells turbulence and trouble that it makes,
Beyond the offices, factories and farms providing peaceful depth, a soul to save.
It doesn't matter if they care or not
Please hold me in your more than human arms Attempts to be a shadow on a wall
or rug that's tread upon at every chance
There are so many times I've fallen here mime frightened snails that won't come out at
With such a vast variety of charms all,
And certainly I too am not an innocent 'til waves of friendship toss them out to dance.
Please hold me in your more than human arms
With nurturing, we give our hearts to hold
I thought or called Thee by so many names the giver's gift to be returned, tenfold.
Beyond pure reason with it's many charms
Perhaps there's beauty in one's darkest hour?
Now hold me in your more than human arms.
Home - Kathleen Cesaro
La Noche - Hernan R. Chang
I stride, as though my feet were being drawn,
to wilderness where footprints never go.
La luz del día ha dejado paso I glimpse a flash of speckles on a fawn
al brillo de los faroles que insinúan and feel the wary peeking of the doe.
miradas lúbricas a la muda obscuridad.
Una obscuridad que se deja seducir y The air vanilla thick as I inhale.
se doblega sin oponer demasiada resistencia. I dream against a Ponderosa Pine.
A rabbit springs to life across my trail,
El parpadeo de los anuncios de neón his heart a-thumping, synchronized with mine.
se mezcla con el ambiente cargado
de humo y perfume barato de la taberna. A Red-winged Blackbird warbles to his mate.
Las miradas furtivas se dejan sentir Without a thought, I imitate each sound,
como si fuera el comienzo de un ritual. then noticing the hour is getting late,
resign myself to sadly turn around.
Un ritual seglar y sin prolegómenos
en el cual la decencia y el recato The shadows stretch to touch me as I leave.
se sacrifican con impunidad The life that's thought is mine awaits. I grieve.
para dejar paso a los instintos,
la lujuria y el desenfreno.
Las horas pasaron vertiginosamente y
la luz del día se apunta débilmente.
Atras quedarán los gemidos de placer ó de
dolor.
Con la noche se irán las palabras y
las dulces promesas hechas en el lecho.
Mañana será otro día…
¿Quién se acordará de ésta noche?
- 23 -
I take this opportunity to share with you one of
"Cogito Ergo Zoom" - Thomas (Torg) Hadley my favorite French
poems and my translation of it. - Kay Lindgren
i think, therefore I am,
i believe...
for I see multi-faceted Recueillement
perceptibilities
Sois sage, ô ma Douleur, et tiens-toi plus
in ponderable tranquille.
Byzantine syllogism-puzzleboxes Tu réclamais le Soir; il descend; le voici:
patinaed in absurdity's Une atmosphère obscure enveloppe la ville,
slick-shiney shellac Aux uns portant la paix, aux autres le souci.
oh, eye see that which Pendant que des mortels la multitude vile,
I b'leive, "eye-think", Sous le fouet du Plaisir, ce bourreau sans
perception is Reality merci,
(convoluted volition Va cueillir des remords dans la fête servile,
is my condition), we get Ma Douleur, donne-moi la main; viens par ici,
that which we seize...
Loin d'eux. Vois se pencher les défuntes
timing, altitude, attitude Années,
in measured degree Sur les balcons du ciel en robes surannées;
meshed in synchronicity Surgir du fond des eaux le Regret souriant;
give luminosity to
poetical parhelical Le Soleil moribond s'endormir sous une arche,
sun-dogs/moon-dogs Et, comme un long linceul traînant à l'Orient,
you may/not so see Entends, ma chère, entends la douce Nuit qui
marche.
my halo is slipping
whilst I play a' la Gemini: - Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du mal
I am Amy G'dala and Sara Bellum
dressed as Cowboy/Indian,
kicking sand until Contemplation (Kay‟s Translation)
my brain-playbox is emptied
and 'tis past time
for milk 'n' cookies Behave yourself, my Sorrow, and calm down.
an' a nap You called out for the Night; it falls; it's here.
A murky atmosphere enshrouds the town,
tittering girly-giggles Brings peace of mind to some; to others, fear.
give way to sea-deep guffaws
each delightful discovery herein Behold the throng of fools who do not frown
is arresting, giving one Pause As Pleasure cracks a whip with cruel sneer.
to re-ponder inklings previously Go summon tears from every laughing clown.
unthinkable, now plausible... My Sorrow, let me hold your hand. Come
ever-yet evanescent: here,
i am a bubble of celestial champagne
tickling God's nostrils.... Away from them. See bygone years that file
To heaven's balconies, dressed out of style,
And watch Regret rise smiling from the deep.
Beneath a bridge, the Sun slips out of sight.
While shadows veil the Far East, fast asleep,
- 24 -
Hear, hear, my dear, the soft steps of the from everyday concerns,
Night. striving through sleeplessness
to see
a new dawn.
Daydreams
Untitled - David Ellis of a time before
treatment and hospital,
Depressed stamina, a birthday party
drowning in poison, without the shadow
therapy of chemicals. of cancer.
Weeks incarcerated Recall the inception
in a hospital bed, of headaches, cerebral
with ventricular, aortal, pressure, hydrocephalus,
and the "normal" kind somnolence developing
of catheter, each redirecting into a coma.
wayward bodily fluids.
Emergency,
A cancerous teen, ambulance,
in a world apart, surgery:
isolated from friends, premature and unpleasant end
nearly lifeless to a coastal summer vacation.
but uninterred.
Bitter brew
With deathly pallor, of medicine has exorcized
senses anesthetized, the malignant grey mass,
a body tries to revive. an unborn evil twin.
Gauze, soaked
and sanitized May I Transmit? - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
with Betadyne solution,
wafts the hospital We hold you in our
scent throughout. more than Human arms, our son....
We treasure you and hold you
Unable to escape from Eternal Harms, our beloved One....
disease or IV pole, We guard you invisibly as we
chained to bed treasure the Son of Light
by monitors of pulse, blood which you have always been
pressure and oxygen are becoming more and more again of,
saturation. each
day by day,
A drugged and drowsy each moment,
mind wanders, waxing won and won
philosophical or dreaming one by one....
unrestrained: disjointed You are not Alone.
kiddy boy, slumbering cute, Be Still, and Know that
carefree and skipping. We ARE
All One
Or skipping Indivisibly, inseparably, infinitely,
a heartbeat, Continually,
gone under for surgery, But only in the Now....
fear of death let each moment be a
parried Death and a Resurrection,
by determination where you release the Past,
to survive. and all attachment to Outcome of
the Future:
A life attain detachment of dispassionate
deverted, Observation
on hiatus and find there revelation
- 25 -
of impugnable serenity: lacking, stacking gold afore
it's all in your a shiney golden Calf...
Imagination!
Believe what you Believe, Babel confounded us,
and See It. yet Mother ever's Mother...
That was my Door: I curb my Knave Tongue.
I am only a Rabbit.
Go Tell Alice! Lexicography
of lyric lithographies
(also sprach Torg) shall perplex the Best
of humankind: Eden
4K-pax/the Krax: {(OK, (k?) or [Que'?]: - conflicted by hellish Dreams:
Thomas (Torg) Hadley lusty flesh it is...
pax (pax poetica universalis}::
:: to taste this Apple
"Metaformed-meta-Ku for Du" Eve-Pandora did say
Wilkommen, vei einar Norski; Is to Be as God!
{Gruess Gott} Have we not gnawed it
beyond its dark crimson Core?
Here: Perceptions Door!
eyes fined dis world, found it (also sprach Torg)
On Art – Tine Wilde
1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
- 26 -
2. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
3. Thinking is active doubt
4. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
5. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
6. Thinking and living fully are the same
7. A thought has a certain weight
8. Doubt is the mother of beauty
9. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
1. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
2. Thinking is active doubt
3. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
4. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
5. Thinking and living fully are the same
6. A thought has a certain weight
7. Doubt is the mother of beauty
8. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
1.2. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
1. Thinking is active doubt
2. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
3. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
4. Thinking and living fully are the same
5. A thought has a certain weight
6. Doubt is the mother of beauty
7. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
1.2. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
1.3. Thinking is active doubt
1. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
2. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
3. Thinking and living fully are the same
4. A thought has a certain weight
5. Doubt is the mother of beauty
6. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
1.2. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
1.3. Thinking is active doubt
1.4. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
1. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
2. Thinking and living fully are the same
3. A thought has a certain weight
4. Doubt is the mother of beauty
5. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
1.2. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
1.3. Thinking is active doubt
1.4. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
1.5. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
1. Thinking and living fully are the same
2. A thought has a certain weight
3. Doubt is the mother of beauty
4. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
1.2. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
1.3. Thinking is active doubt
1.4. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
1.5. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
1.6. Thinking and living fully are the same
1. A thought has a certain weight
- 27 -
2. Doubt is the mother of beauty
3. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
1.2. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
1.3. Thinking is active doubt
1.4. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
1.5. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
1.6. Thinking and living fully are the same
1.7. A thought has a certain weight
1. Doubt is the mother of beauty
2. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
1.2. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
1.3. Thinking is active doubt
1.4. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
1.5. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
1.6. Thinking and living fully are the same
1.7. A thought has a certain weight
1.8. Doubt is the mother of beauty
1. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
1.2. Doubt arises whenever the wind of thought is rising
1.3. Thinking is active doubt
1.4. Doubt is just a more receptive state of certainty
1.5. Poetry and thinking are next-door neighbors
1.6. Thinking and living fully are the same
1.7. A thought has a certain weight
1.8. Doubt is the mother of beauty
1.9. Art is an attempt to breathe life into reality
1.1.1. Thinking is time and again starting anew
Eyes blink - David Ellis
What have I become,
Long eyelashes that friends refuse
dip into tears. to see? That none
can understand?
A tissue tries
without hope I am alien:
to absorb isolated, unwelcome,
the pain. unable to connect.
Injections and Is it easier to be
transfusions: alone in society
a phlebotomist than contained
completed the behind cold walls
necessary transactions with my cancer?
during treatment.
Sharper needles
still pierce me,
delving into my
tender soul. Allison Sings Opera - Paul Nachbar
- 28 -
In his lumps of cast-off shaving cream.
His eye then noticed designs
Allison sings opera In the orange peels and coffee grounds
In her apartment That topped up his garbage.
The swamp across the hall He marveled at how easily and naturally
From my swamp here. He could produce Art.
Or mostly it is ascending "Truly", he thought, "I am a natural artist".
And descending scales.
Mister Wunkie entered the commuter car
It is nice And stood to make an announcement.
Most of everything else His rasping instrument
I hear in this place is rap music Sounded a claxon bellow:
Which I 'get into' or 'like' "While you may lack my natural talent,
Or sort of tolerate or hate. You can yet aspire to become like me --
Smug, conceited, self-absorbed and boastful.
Rap music gets you excited or agitated Yes, Yes, YES!
Or makes you want to take off all your clothes You can do it if you only try".
Or kill the enemy Silently, though, he doubted
Or just stay on that couch That they could achieve much
Maybe forever Without his guidance.
Trying not to listen "Truly", he assured himself, "I am very
Because it's all doomed anyway. special".
Allison sings opera Mister Wunkie watched as the passengers
Or ascending and descending scales moved away,
That's nice too An ebbing tide,
I might stay on my couch and keep one ear Steady as a bored recessional
open After a tedious sermon.
Or one eyelid Their motion settled his attention
Hell, if everything is doomed anyway Upon its customary object -- his self.
At least we'll go down in some style. "Truly", he observed, "I am an engine of
change in the world.
And I must be very important indeed
To get so much space to myself."
Haiku - Hernan Chang
Rosa serena,
Ponto lleno de verdor,
Camino sin fin. I'd Rather Be a Rhinoceros - Kay Lindgren
"It is much better to have the screaming
sensitivity of the soul uncovered by any
Haiku - Hernan Chang protective skin than to have a tear-proof
rhinoceros skin in combination with cold
Under the bay grass fish blood."
An ant delves a burrow -Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Facing the drizzle.
Is it really better
to let my soul
lose its hide?
Bloat Afloat - Jon Marin
A naked soul
Mister Wunkie was shaving is a ripe persimmon
As he usually did with skin so thin
Every third or fourth morning.
Glancing down into the sink a fingertip can bruise it,
He discerned fine patterns a fingernail can slash it.
- 30 -
Although such fruit Nueve Nova - Thomas (Torg) Hadley
might make your taste buds
blossom, I have seen those [for Hernan 'n' Kay]
who stand in horror
of that blood red pulp,
as if it were a shattered heart. Rhino's blind, a nose
only to sniff out sense, just
Mouths warped in disgust, reacting/ charging
they grab the quickest picker
upper on hand, wipe up i am what i am
not yet what i shall become
the oozing mass but am becoming
and throw it out
with coffee grounds sometimes i'm a weed
and chicken bones. in someone's perfect Garden
a vacant lot's rose
It's food for fruit flies.
injustice brings rage
What good is there i'll charge blindly to pierce
in letting my wounds bloody-mindedness
loose their lips
and scream through poems? pathos brings my tears
i crave the balm of Angels
Who listens through a screen thirst for some kindness
of metaphor? Who hears
the figurative screech? i, Ferdinand, Bull
snuffling a dewey daisy
My larval muse snorting to Heaven
cocoons my head in gauze,
Alchemist, i mix
as the world hurtles my metaphors to make gold
headlong like a rhinoceros. from my leaden thoughts
Its hoofs stampede us.
Its horns gore us. i am what i Will
but only by becoming
The world sheds poets that which is Belief
like scabs, but poets
leave no scars. in a world of beasts
only faith can make Magick
I'll be the rhinoceros, You help me Believe...
trade my flayed soul
for a calloused hide,
my pen for a horn.
I'll weigh four tons Don't Hide - Kathleen Cesaro
and trample all those
who have laughed Rhinos stomp and charge,
at the sight trusting little daisy now
of my soul undressed. trampled in the ground.
There is nothing worse Rhinos snort and huff,
than being a poet everything lies flat and dead,
in a universe no food to be found.
where the beast
fits in best. Rhinos tip, then fall,
tiny sprout pokes up and smiles.
Daisy's still around.
- 31 -
"We" are extras -- saffron on the human stew.
A tough hide keeps out piercing pain, but it I am reconciled as I sip my Scotch.
can't feel life's tender tickles, either. I want the mashers and the cookers
A strong inner being can welcome both and And the blenders and the bottlers
survive. To do tomorrow what they did today.
Smile, Daisy! I don't need them to be creative,
Or brilliant or daring or imaginative,
But only to do their well-defined job.
It's a small but comforting compensation
To know that my Dewar's will never vary.
Me, at last. - Kathleen Cesaro
I am persimmon
Rhinoceros food, no doubt Radiant rainbow - Hernan Chang M.D.
Go ahead, bite me!
Radiant rainbow
Valor--no remorse That follows the misty rain
Acceptance--no frustration You bring us true hope
Sweet Surrender--peace
Where We Fit In - Jon Marin Like an Eagle - Hernan Chang M.D.
The world makes its clothes to fit regular folk. Like an eagle
Search in vain Through the deep blue firmament
For size twenty shoes Yes, like the wind.
Or a size twenty dress --
It's not set up to make them.
More than ninety percent of everyone
Post IQ scores below one-twenty. Happy Azalea - Hernan Chang M.D.
A one-fifty IQ's like a size twenty foot:
Systems evolved to fit regular folk; Happy azalea
They're not made for you or for me. With healthy pine trees around
You need so much mulch!
Our talents are welcome
Insofar as our they can be of service
To those who don't have them.
A chasm separates them from us,
A chasm two standard deviations wide. Odysseus:As The World Turns - David Ellis
The world institutions are structured cacoons
That allow "them" to function, As the world turns, Odysseus travels.
Where they need only be adequate He covers Mediterranean sea,
To work and produce and succeed and be atop the sea, amid the earth, he flies
happy; past any obstacle he rams his ship.
Where they can set themselves banal Finding peace amidst a rush of madness,
objectives he knows not where next to look, but will
And heroically strive to achieve them. wait.
The world stands more to lose from their
blindness Though his crew is spread thin, they still will
Than it can hope to gain from our sight. wait.
Its systems are crafted Running through all the obstacles, travels
With its safety in mind our great Odyssean, in his madness.
As havens where "they" can do more good Where about the many oceans or sea,
than harm. the greatest earthly creature on his ship.
He runs about the water and woods, flies.
Few as we are, and we really are few,
There are more of us than the world really Angel wings aback, alone he flies,
needs.
"They" are essential;
- 32 -
slithers past, while others must merely wait. between dunes of ice
Scatting nonsense syllables as his ship and galaxies whispering.
flows smoothly over the water; travels.
Waters of the ocean, ocean of sea. She opens her arms, eternals,
He cannot escape impending madness. between a rain of rhododendrons.
Her manners link
Even the sound of the waves is madness. a laconic saying
Where do waters flow, wherefore he flies? with a baroque time.
Over the edge, into the pit: the sea.
What does he flee, why not just sit and wait? No hurry,
Into the maelstrom, out of the fire, travels. only a blow of wind
Know what he does: find him out on his ship. on the cheeks
of a palpitating East.
How can you follow, when the fastest ship,
is flying at speed, the cost is madness? To say, again, good bye,
Odysseus, as he flies, he travels, the night undressing
covering land, encountering foes, flies. her body with light.
Why should he stop, why even should he
wait?
He is master of himself, and of sea.
As though he sees it in mind's eye: the sea
flows out behind his ship, about the ship,
he needs not the aid of others; await
him as he approaches fast: through madness. Stately Sequoia – Hernan Chang M.D.
He has not far to go, but as he flies,
his mind conforms, and records his travels.
Stately sequoia
He travels, and I see him through the sea, If you could just only talk
flying, he flies; he fires off the ship, What tales we could learn!
from madness he plunges...just wait.
Blue Maze - Maria C. Faverio
Poema (sin título) - Jorge González
La luna se seca al alba,
Slangs of memories
entre dunas de hielo
scoff at the outrage of the years,
y susurros de galaxias.
the underlying urge
to survive the moment‟s whims,
Abre sus brazos, eternos,
the skilled excuses
entre una lluvia de rododendros.
to force transitoriness into permanency,
Sus maneras enlazan
like a diary.
un lacónico decir
y un tiempo barroco.
Beyond the polka dots of existence,
hands search,
No hay prisas,
try to grasp,
sólo un soplo de viento
recede
en las mejillas
when they encounter another hand,
de un Este palpitante.
yielding to the intricate evasions
of solidarity,
Decir otra vez adiós,
the blue maze
otra noche que desnuda
with its own blue sun.
su cuerpo con luz.
Solidarity - taboo word
translated into myriads of innuendoes
Poem (translation) - Jorge González
and still not understood,
like a god
In the dawn, the moon dries herself,
- 33 -
hiding his tired eyes always and ever,
behind a mask. will never become the same one again.
These memories are more intricate
than Ariadne‟s string,
convoluted as winter sky,
a confusion of sounds,
The Hands of the Clock - Maria C. Faverio
disjointed syllables in a Mensa puzzle
only champions can solve.
The light
Why are they shouting like mad?
of the empathic
Aren‟t they happy in the blue maze,
autumn sun
the cave of forgetfulness
wades through the shaking branches
where the delirium of being
like eyes of child
delights in the splendour of unawareness?
unsteady,
unable
Don‟t they understand
to discern the truth,
they will commit mass suicide
flickering through the coppery shine
if they join into the puzzle
of sunset
that is not supposed to be completed
inquisitive and empty
too soon?
as dawn.
The golem will dance
The hands of the clock move,
a danse macabre
trapped in the illusion
on their grave.
because of which they are,
but the brain‟s circumvolutions
are the labyrinth
where the Minotaur
Existential Ease – Peter (Krax) Ingestad tired
bored
Existential ease... looking for a challenge
Don't give it to me, Lord, please, sits
I have it already, and waits
it comes with age, for his next victim,
his rescuer.
and if somewhat steady
if not a sage, Reality moves
I'm happy that way, gyrates
'cause age is OK accommodates
but youth was always - disease. to the tumuli
under which
it crumbles
like a puberty dream,
shaking off colours
I Am – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
like a broken prism
or a dull dull evening.
I am -
uhuh. I The hands of the clock
think bid each other
...nevermind. farewell
under the mould.
I am the walrus,
the one.
I am the walrus, Two Ponds - Kathleen Cesaro
times two.
Millions scurrying
no face, no name, no meaning
I am who I am, city cockroach life
as I was,
- 34 -
Sleepy mountain town by a starry sky and the land breeze
music for the poet's voice awakes long-forgotten, primeval,
crickets sing his praise memories and instincts.
Katie, somewhere in Utah... The gleam of the stars over
the firmament appears to brighten
after a lingering, melancholic, wolf
Lovers - Jon Marin howling is heard at a great distance.
Two lovers sought for the single truth A sudden onset of lycanthropic
That would cut through all illusion. excitement invades my senses and
They studied Buddhism with a Buddhist guru appears to originate from watching
Who proposed this impressive, yet surreal scenario.
That the wise man lives at the bib of an idiot
Collecting the rubies that drip from its chin. Scenario that was hitherto seen by fearless
- - They left him, disappointed. pioneers on their quest for chimerical dreams.
Dreams that now shape our
They sudied the mysteries with a Cultist guru subliminal collective memory.
Who claimed
That the wise man takes a verse from Dylan Moonlight, stars and starry skies
And a line or two from Kalil Gibran, have unforeseen and flabbergasting effects
Then puts them together upon my psyche and imagination.
To build a life. They tend to transport me into a state of
- - They left, again disappointed. reverie...
So they studied love with each other as guru
And discovered Who Done It? - Paul Nachbar
That when columns of smoke merge in the
wind Who Done It?
The particles remain distinct. The Jabberwock...
They'd learned together what each had known: What Can Be Done?
- - Isolation is absolute. Nobody knows.
Brave - Hernan R. Chang, M.D. Manifesto: The Not-Quite-Dead-Yet-Poet's-
Society - Paul Nachbar
Brave the deepest sea
discover untold secrets: No, love is not quite dead yet...
darkness means true life!
It has been:
A Love Supreme – Peter (Krax) Ingestad Professed by the professors
Prophesized by the prophesizers
Analyzed by the analysts
A perfect match; a perfect match.
Dogmatized by the dogmatizers
From heart to heart I will despatch Academized by the academifiers
Professionalized by the professionals
expressions of a Love Supreme, Freudified by the Freudifiers
as echoed by a low-pitch scream, Jungified by the Jungifiers
Behaviorified by the Behaviorifers
repeated; and we both feel good, Cognified by the cognifiers
'cause I am Bismarck. You are Hood Psychopharmacologized by the
psychopharmacologizers
Criminalized by the criminalizers
Decriminalized by the decriminalizers.
Moonlight - Hernan R. Chang, M.D.
Intellectualized by the intellectualizers
Pleasurified by the pleasurifiers
Nightfall is arriving noiselessly.
Workified by the workifiers
Mechanized by the mechanizers
A tenuous moonlight bedecked
Humanized by the humanizers
- 35 -
Sentimanlized by the sentimentalizers Orgasmified by the orgasmifiers
Glorified by the glorifiers Matrified by the matrifiers
Sidified by the Sidifiers Patrified by the patrifiars
Feminized by the Feminizers
No, love is not dead. Love, well also has been:
It has been.. Motherfied by the motherizers
Democratized by the democratizers Daddified by the daddifiers
Popularized by the popularizers SOnified by the sonifiers
Snobbified by the snobbifiers Daughterfied by the daughterfiers
Psychologized by the psychologizers Brotherfied by the brotherizers
Capitalized by the capitalizers Sisterfied by the sisterizers
Socialized by the socializers Familified by the familifiers
Elevated by the elevatifiers
No, I'm afraid love is not quite dead Come and baby light my heart on fire..
It has been:
Nazified by the nazifiers No love is not dead
Communized by the communizers It has been:
Corporatized by the corporatizers Canadified by the Canadifiers
Nihilized by the nihilizers Swedified by the Swedifiers
Trivialized by the trivializers NewYorkified by the Newyorkifiers
Neuroticized by the neuroticizers Chicagified by the Chicagofiers
Psychoticized by the psychoticizers Mountainized by the Mountainifiers
Detroitified by the Detroitifers
Well, love isn't quite dead (at this point just check the atlas..I get lazy)
Its only ..
Christianized by the Christianizers NO, love is not really dead.
Catholicized by the catholicizers Its been:
Protestantized by the protestanizers Historified by the historifiers
Judaicized by the Judaicizers Philosophized by the philosophizers
Moslemized by the Moslemizers Poeticized by the poetifiers
Atheisized by the atheisizers Artified by the artifiers
Americanized by the Americanizers Theatricized by the theatricizers
Filmified by the filmifiers
I'm sad and happy to report love is not dead Sportified by the sportifiers
It's only: Liberalized by the liberalizers
Europeanized by the Europeanizers Conservatized by the conservatizers
Africanized by the Africanizers Radicalized by the radicalizers
Asiafied by the Asiafiers Romanticized by the romanticizers
Mediafied by the mediafiers Classicized by the classicizers
Publicized by the publicizers Bureaucratized by the bureaucratizers
Privatized by the privatizers Computerized by the computerizers
Demoralized by the demoralizers Modernized by the modernizers
Love aint' dead. It's just: Love, we inform you in this report is not
Moralized by the moralizers entirely deceased
Universalized by the universalizers It has just been:
Localized by the localizers Uglified by the uglifiers
Demonized by the demonizers Beautified by the beautifiers
Angelized by the angelizers Mesmerized by the mesmerizers
Existentialized by the existentializers Quantified by the quantifiers
Qualified by the qualifiers
We inform you that love is not dead Beatlefied by the Beatlizers
But its been: Claptonized by the Claptonizers
Homosexualized by the homosexualifiers Stonified by the Stonifiers
Heterosxualized by the heteroizers Romanized by the Romanifiers
Bisexualized by the bisexualizers Grecified by the Greccifiers
Transvestified by the transvestifiers
Incestified by the incestifiers Love is not dead contrary to previous
Traumatized by the traumatizers reports:
- 36 -
Just The this- and the thatticans
Randomized by the randomizers The this- and thattiatrists
Structuralized by the structuralizers I thank somebody here
Infantalized by the infantalizers I am not a psychiatrist.
Adultified by the adultifiers
Seniorified by the seniorizers The this- and the thattophers
Classified by the classifiers The this- and the thattagers
Declassified by the declassifiers. I thank somebody here
For sometimes moronic verse.
Nope. Not quite dead yet:
Love is: The this and the thatticists
estructured by the destructifiers The this and the thatticals
Commercialized by the commercializers Well, have it your way
Sanctified by the sanctifiers If you think it's all "chemicals."
Desanctified by the desanctifiers
Pornographied by the pornographiers
Yuppified by the Yuppifiers Chronic Condition – Paul Nachbar
Nerdified by the nerdifiers
Geniusized by the geniufiers Hm.
Idiotized by the idiotizers That's all It is.
Going
Love, we report here has been found To play
To be also: Guitar now
Mozarfied by the Mozarfiers
Vincified by the Vincifiers
Harvardized by the Harvardizers Regarding Everything Between Us – Paul
Suessified by the Suessifiers.. Nachbar
Dialectified by the dialectifiers
Druggified by the druggifiers.. Protons and neutrons
Bourgeoisfied by the bourgeoifiers Do not care
Workified by the workifiers For the food chain
Medicalized by the medicalizers But they're there
Legalified by the legalifiers Scratch that surface
Clericalized by the clericalizers You find quarks
Retardized by the retardifiers And prob'bly
Even smaller sparks.
And well the list can go on and on and on
No love is not dead: Daily here
It occasionally....twitches. On earth
We live
Work and struggle;
Mole - Hernan R. Chang, M.D. Please forgive
All the ones
A mole digs forward Who made us do
And those insects buzz around Stuff that's
What shall we do now? Boring
Or boo-hoo.
Poem: For Contnuiing Ed.. – Paul Nachbar Daily here
On earth
The this- and the thattians We strive
The this- and the thattalists Somehow
I thank somebody here Just to stay alive
I was once a philatelist When there's stuff
One can't ignore
The this- and thattologists Mostly (sigh)
The this- and thattographers Comes
I thank somebody here Down
For some fine pornographers. To war.
- 37 -
You would want Theologians
To separate? Astronomers
Be a solitary great Philosophers..
Be a giant Knowing more
Not a dwarf Than I can know
Well here Make a model
I just say Give a show
(Of course) Tell us how
It really works!
Careful (sometimes
You don't we just feel
Fall behind like...jerks..)
Bang
Your head Tell us something
And lose your mind. Something Real
That I won't be
I too Someone's meal
Wish the world That life isn't
Would stop Just a deal;
Sometimes Something
I would play I can think
The cop And feel.
Bottom, middle Tell us something
And the top Something True
Up and down Nothing made
The social crease For me and you?
All must work Tell us too
Or all will cease. How to forgive
And with such
I too Bold knowledge
Wish the world Live.
Would start
To follow In the nearby
Dictates of my heart Darkened room
My Christina
Fill itself Sound asleep
Entire Wanting you
With love And too the world.
Sensual All is silence
And that above. Not a peep.
But here Praise all darkness
I am just And all light
Only one I shall work here
In six billion: Through this night..
Oh great fun!
Beyond these things Snowbirds – Kathleen Cesaro
You find the stars
Galaxies Honking, necks outstretched,
And all the rest arrow of geese pointing north.
The Universe Nature's Spring compass
Is
Very large Feathered pistons thrust
But does it forward into misty rain,
Pass our unforgiving wind.
Human tests?
Rising horizon,
Physicists sleeping under cool white sheets,
- 38 -
Montana mountains. bowl of most precious metal,
Mind - and the Big Void.
Wildflower meadow,
kaleidoscope does the wave,
mirrored landing strip The Garden – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
Chuckling their delight The garden of Lust,
orgy of food and frolic the garden of Mind, locate
summer sun at last. this environment.
Response to a Raisin Hater – Sean MacNiven She Sits * - Mark Norman
The rains are razin' raisins to the ground, She sits, old,
See how they fall, so sadly not quite round, lips pursing as
Dark matter in my muesli, stockpiles dried, light bulbs in the room
Hydration yet another time defied, individually give and die.
Yet your distaste I cannot comprehend,
And now must raisinkind promptly defend! Down the hall, the last.
For raisins are a gem of sunlight tamed, Stubborn, with an incessant
And with their kin Sultanas duly famed, incandescent flicker dances
What Student's mix would be complete to the imperceptible sway of the rocker.
without,
A raisin's voiceless flavour branding shout!? Arthritic hands tighten, then
I love them for their tangy pungent breaths, loosen in a erythematic play of waiting.
And thank them for their desiccated deaths, Patience parleyed to present
Yea! Raisins mummified, may we ensure, dignity wrapped in calico yarn.
That you the sandy eons long endure!
Each to and fro of the chair
moves her milky blue eyes
Mind Landscape – Peter (Krax) Ingestad back and forth through
her years of an unwritten memoir of living.
Mind landscape, mountain
peaks under a painless sky, Occasionally curving her lips
how many people? to match the rocker‟s runs,
tilting her head, eyes sparkling
to thoughts of back when.
Cup of Emptiness - Peter (Krax) Ingestad
Cup of Emptiness,
Confusion and Control - Krysta Sutterfield
(or, two sides to everything: Stieglitz v. O'Keeffe)
yes i created her – we met at his gallery
i saw her work. where my work was displayed
(shameless! her being single and working)
training? reading? oh, maybe. Braque, Picasso, Kandinsky,
but isn't it odd, a woman? Cezanne, Dove, Strand,
the marvel is not how well the bear dances yes, I know their works.
but that it dances at all. i want an American touch
people will tire of her, still showing in 2004
the intuitive marvel of her who was Stieglitz?
same same same same work;
- 39 -
the obsession on limited subjects. form, shape, color, passion,
strong, straight, piercing,
great men have long studied and probed the female form, soft, flowing, enveloping,
making sketch
after drawing canyons in nature
after painting and woman
after sculpture. and made by men in cities
why all this fuss over a woman's view? out of steel
scandalous, really,
the things she paints. honi soit qui mal y pense
why, look at that!
it's clear how unwholesome her mind is. i paint my experience,
my feelings,
we had a thing (told you she was shameless) what i know
i used to be married, now we're married
we don‟t want a child. he won't
as delicate as women are says it's for my own good
she's dangerously close to insanity now
with her painting and travel and gallery shows.
no, she didn't really want to do that commission. fury
remember – she's an infant; impotent, infantile
can't agree to anything. fury and rage
you should have asked me.
here – come to my next opening.
she's been doing a lot of painting recently i'd be a fool not to paint as i like
there's sure to be some surprises since that's the only freedom
i have left
Krysta Sutterfield
No Title – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
To find the World is
It dawns without a vengeance to found it, to define it,
In the metamorphous moment refine it; ours.
The Son went in with the door
And all that is left of then is Map of language,
As God as his white Word is multicolored indeed. Map
Three points below the Himalayas of languages -
This is but yore, imagination -
Night makes a call. Hilarius, Map of poetry,
Go for the window and find out map of poetries? New world,
If the street outside is there old reality.
New reality,
strange garden. This day: calm,
A Haiku Style Metapoem – Peter (Krax) cloudy; rich fragrance.
Ingestad
- 40 -
This world is old and The extiperfous megaprune of blastful
it will never die, but you tipperary foil,
remain it's midwife. in grastly ferth to misery prevailing out of
pitiful
regret, will last forever in displace; I beg your
pardon -
Bad Poetry – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
My bettyboop of furtainly committed Love, let's What fortifiable bananas mean to God will
do the big lambada! Say don't you think the almost always be considered boundless nullity
nite is bold? A sanfranciskey on the bocks will of sordid love, but in the wake of southern
toodle-doo for elevator gratitude, I mean for moonshine, somewhat accidental, will my heart
alligator fatitude. forever rest in overdue decrepitude -
Why coïtus? I will not grasp thy burstling Hark - it is the Moon! This grandiose
pineupple in certain phoney anger, o Lord of perpeetum mobile,
World Calabrity, just let my average banana this most profusely colorful bazooka muzzle of
grande loose in tedium revenge for all this eradicated
television sound of life you gave me as a skies imbues our humid dreams with horror of
birthday present - vacuity -
I made my note; I made my dote; but O Lord, how omniscient now indeed thy
Thermas Carlisle also [censored] made it, dont photographic love for Death and peanuts! And
you zink? This be thine ghoul: most vermine in the shadows of this most calamitous regret
hearts of parts of warts of carts of farts of we seek the ultimately contraceptive path of
middleofthenighty grosses Bildung. blind chameleons -
Some figs of thomsingness, my torpid Luv, I The blissful state of petty flowers' most
offer U as exasperated symphony of anger fades away,
pretty darling sunshine, this eternal verdict of lest all the farting nightingales of Lust behold
a truffled Moon, so give my joint remainder the sunset's awful glory in the mist of
back or I will perish - supersonic treason -
Ah, cirty fenthelayon courtridge tail of O rose eternal blossom of sweet love and
Parthenusa! fornication -
Will I be forever yours? Will you behold my How I behold thee in delirious enchantment,
penis mystery and awe - Thy odour will pervade this
in disgrace? Will you curtail maternal world of utter Nothingness!
interpititudiny?
The blarting thorf by quizzitudinal
While firty bosoms of finalitude and kissfull collapsity - woohoo, my heart is
warts on the rollerball! - oh, just forget it.
fertain to utter copularity, I still believe in God
and put my thirfle into splendid farts of pure
oblivion - Thy sweet pure heart of gold, Urania, pops out
of desolato campanilla nothingness et bon
viveur,
O lord, how theeth thy pretty megablob of so help me G*d, as time goes by tic tac -
waistful tart forever!
and blossoming pertainiance adheres to
miserary forks, Good purplity! I just forgot my name:
shall we continue? I think not, and rest in Belfaffar, thomsing, nevermind the 69f
passitude - amendmendmendmendmeant intended.
- 42 -
Why this golden tenebray of yours, my little unhappiness, I feel just awe -
dove,
why do we understand each other? - Do we
not? The glorious sun shines like a giant flower -
- Why do we not? - What did you say? - Uhuh. O golden shower of eternal bliss
bringing life to the hearts of all mankind.
Zink, o battleship, in pride! My heart is
flittering, I Am A Stranger – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
supreme with Love. Sweat night'ngayle, I beg
your goodie pardon, but the sun shuns I am a stranger here,
shadows - making a bad career,
yet shredding no single tear.
Cordon sanitaire, congratulations, coor Some 40 poems I wrote,
fontempt, all published, I tell with some gloat
you name it, jellybean, and I will bonquest in in my home country, remote.
thespair
thy moooody 7-up: one two three four five six What do we say about that,
seven dummies? A suddenly scurrying rat
- and the cat just sat on the mat.
This isisisis a miNImini- 'Course bad poetry isn't for you,
nimaXyMALLy that as is, good poetry out of here too -
this is this, it was out -. it's all just for a few.
May someone seek it in vain?
Aww, my dwindling sad dog's Some people, proud of a brain,
tail, I cannot anymore enjure will never see it again!
Cool Romance – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
- Just for you, doggie.
- Uhuh...?
- 29 vigs.
- Vigs?
- Viagra. Don't be silly.
- Viagra...?
INNOCENCE.
possibly 7... as I told the nurse. And she
looked at me. - "Difficult breathin'?" - "It's the
pain..." - And I remember that, if agonized, I
PROSE still found it kind of fascinating, I really didn't
worry much, expecting quick relief, which I
they actually dealt me in immediate sequel to
the examination, and when effect of that
Heavy Breath – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
morphine derivate receded some 2-3 hours
later, the pain dit not return. They were going
Heavy breath and a strange whispering voice:
to give me a surgery, but I couldn't have it,
signs of maximal nervous excitement. Like
because I had to get back home for receiving a
during that gallstone attack I had recently, you
locksmith two days after. - This was by now
know I have heard that pain caused by
some 3 months ago, and my gallstone has not
gallstone may pitch very different kinds of
bothered me at all. - Now an intuitively more
impact, now this one produced a sensation
natural approach to the kind of appearance
most diffuse, not exactly pain even, rather
referred to here would of course be related
painful in a somewhat undefinable sense, not
to an altogether different compass of bodily
intolerable though severe, at a scale 1 - 10,
- 43 -
sensations, one that I however prefer not to unending. You need fret not. You have raised
talk about at all. and guarded them well: they are strong and
more independent every day.
As I mentioned to Joshua, when we learn
language as a baby, we do it by watching, by
The Choice - Torg (Tom) Hadley listening, by rehearsal in ones mind, and then
emulating the behavior in its entirety. We can
(This is to Sheila and Anthony of Malaysia, yet comprehend before we can speak the Word.
also to each of you, each of us. These parents When we first speak, it is an Event. We
are involved with HiQh for Humanity. I am connect! There is a response, and the Dance
mentoring their kids through the auspices of Hi begins.
IQ for Humanity, at The Dance is in the nuance of the
http://www.mywhm.com/~hiqhorg/xoops/ spoken/written/acted word. I also encourage
I send this to all parents, and friends, you to get the kids involved in Theater.
who might see their reflection in this pond, as Shannon loves dance; she should be able to fly
well.) with your love lifting her wings! Joshua loves
Science. With your combined focus, he will be
(Original Letter): able to see, perhaps, where no man has ever
seen before.
Sheila, blessed wife and mother of Joshua and One person can change the World. They
Shannon; appear in every generation of Humanity. The
I feel compelled to say that you and your only difference between those who have
husband Anthony have already been teaching changed the World, and those who have not, is
your radiant children, perhaps before they Belief. If you Believe (that in some small way
were even born or dreamt of. that is hidden in the complex interweaving of
I believe that it is the same with my wife peoples' minds/thoughts/music/art/speech: of
and me. The radiance of love brought you every culture, of every time, of every day and
together as man and wife, and new life began night upon this Earth), that you have uttered
within your union of spirits, of souls. That you a word, done a deed, or generated creativity in
and they were meant to be is self-evident: you some form that is new, you HAVE changed the
are here, all together. World.
The lessons of love, of values, of respect If it creates ripples that become obvious to
and appreciation: they already know all of this, everyone, you become famous, even
because of your marriage, their coming into remembered. Sometimes, these ripples take a
being, and the warmth and nurture of your very long time, (in Human years), to touch the
home. shore of Mankind, and rebound.
So, really, your job was already done, and Yet, as all grandparents perhaps know, the
magnificently so, by the time they were six ripples come back to you in giggles from a
years' of age. That's what Dr. Piaget, the rosey baby's smile...your grandchild. May such
Jesuits, and many other wise persons have blessings be to us all!
said throughout modern, and ancient, time. So, I say "Congratulations!" to you, when
Be assured, be at Peace: you have already you say that time with Mummy is granted to
wrought a wonder-filled work in each child. Shannon. It is the most precious gift of all.
Reap, now, the harvest of Joy in their eyes, When Anthony takes his son by the hand and
their hearts, by continuing, (as you are), to shows him the wonders of the world, so the
nourish their curiosity, their brilliance, their ripple of love returns to its source, and
very blossoming. rebounds again.
If a book does not come; no matter. If a There is no end to this Love, nor has it ever
device does not work; no matter. The only really just "begun". It has always been, and
thing that matters is that which you have shall always Be. It is in the Moment, this
already given them. They are sensitive, eternal moment. We choose to Love, or we
intelligent, loving children who want to learn choose not to choose, or we deny.
and to grow, and to turn to others to help The only choice that works is to choose to
them do so, as well. Love. I believe we have all made that Choice.
When you feel the impetus to guide them in So, there is nothing really left that we have to
discovery, your indwelling Divine instinct is do, except to enjoy the unfolding of the
familiar, and trusted, to you: you do so, and Moment, to choose wonder, discovery, and
the way becomes clear. So it is with Mother, fulfillment. We are well upon this Path,
with Father. Be confident that the children already.
already are a bountiful harvest of joy that is
-2-
Let us continue the voyage together. What (I couldn't make the compilation with any
Wonders Await?! reasonable degree of ease,
relative to a member other than myself.)
With Best of Regards,
Thomas "Torg" Then I was contacted by some members who
said ' What happened
to the compilation? So here it is. I welcome
input or contributions
Six-Degrees of Separation - Paul F. Kisak from anyone who desires to do so. There are
so many fascinating
individuals in these groups.
There are no great ideas being discussed in
this The compilation itself does have a bias towards
message but it was fun and enlightening for notables in the US.
me It would be nice to see contributions that
and some others. reflect non-US notables.
In numerous HiQ groups I brought up the Best - Paul
popular notion
that there are six-degrees of separation _____________________________________
from most any individual. _____________________
One example that was discussed, was My Wife and Family ;-) - 1
the Kevin Bacon game which seeks to link Numerous geniuses on HiQ organizations ;-) -
actors to 1
Kevin bacon by listing six films or less. President Ronald Reagan - 1
Secretary of State George Schultz - 1
There is also an artifact called the Erdos Casper Wienberger - 1
number. Most Virginia Governors and congressman 1
Paul Erdos was an accomplished Numerous Senators and Congressman c. 1984-
mathematician. 87 - 1
If you coauthored a paper with him you had an Numerous National Security Council c. 1984-87
Erdos number of one. If you coauthored with -1
someone that coauthored with Erdos; your DCI William Casey - 1
Erdos number was 2. DCI Robert Gates - 1
(see Numerous Astronauts/in-Training - 1
http://personalwebs.oakland.edu/~grossman/e Numerous Scientists at NRL, LLNL, LANL, ANL,
rdoshp.html) Sandia NL, DARPA - 1
DDS&T Dr. Ronald Pandolfi - 1
I tend to believe that there is, on Art Schleister (Buckeyes QB) and most of
the order, of 6-8 degrees of separation starting lineup in 70's 1
from just about anybody else (under 10 for OSU Coach Woody Hayes 1
sure). Thomas Dornbrook (Steelers center) 1
Willie Stargell (Pirates 1st baseman) 1
I wonder if the total population would have to Ronald Kessler (author) 1
increase by an order of magnitude to generate Linda McCarthy 1
degrees of separation greater than 10 or 12. US Ambassador to Moscow - Hartmann 1
Clayton Lonetree (Spy) 1
The following are my onesies and twosies that Dorothy Wilson (Artist) 1
include Dr. Robert Graham 1
email connections without physical contact. I Brittany Spears 1
debated on whether Bill Schmidt (cousin - Olympic Javelin Bronze)
or not others might be interested enough to 1
see such a list Admiral Bobby Inman - 1
that is compiled with the input of other Senator John Glenn - 1
members of Col. Prouty - 1
various HiQ groups and I decided against Steven Peremba (uncle - boxer) - 1
posting it because Bo Schembeckler - 1
it is simplistic and could be misconstrued as Carl Sagan - 1
being self-promotional. Morgan Fairchild - 1
-3-
Bruno Samartino (wrestler) - 1 Cernan, Schmitt, Sega, and Voss (astronauts)
Arnold Palmer - 1 -2
Mike Mucca (Polish Author) - 1 Daniel Keyes (Flowers for Algernon) - 2
David Plotz (MSNBC Author) - 1 Walter Tevis (The Hustler, The Man Who Fell to
Lee Trevino (Golf) - 1 Earth) - 2
Joe Theismann (Redskins QB) - 1 Clint Eastwood - 2
Col. Noel Whittifield (transatlantic record in Mariel Hemingway - 2
SR-71) - 1 Margaux Hemingway - 2
Princess of Monaco (1992) - 1 Scott Glenn - 2
Tony Curtis - 2
Lt. Gen. James A. Abrahamson (SDI) - 1 Michael York - 2
Dr. Philip Morrison - 1 Dennis Chavez (former senator from New
Dr. Roald Sagdeev - 1 Mexico) - 2
Dr. Robert Cooper (DARPA) - 1 Bill Gates Sr. - 2
Arnold Palmer - 1 Arthur Jensen - 2
Jack Nicholas - 1 Larry Niven - 2
Dr. Stan Friedman - 1 Douglas Hofstader - 2
Robert Forward - 2
President Ford 2 Steve Kirsch - 2
President Nixon 2 Paul Erdos - 2
President Carter 2 John Nash - 2
Hillary Clinton 2 James Van Allen - 2
Stephen Hawking 2 Stan Ulam - 2
Dan Akroyd 2 Rev. Berrigan - 2
Miss Virginia 1984 2 Daniel Ellsberg - 2
Robert Frost 2 Jeremy Rifkin - 2
Jacquelyn Kennedy 2 Rennie Davis - 2
John Kennedy 2 John Sinclair - 2
Caroline Kennedy 2 John Newcombe - 2
Soupy Sales 2 Phil Donahue - 2
Frank Lloyd Wright 2 Oprah Winfrey - 2
Sissy Spacek 2 Sally Jessy Raphael - 2
Patty Hearst 2 Joan Lunden - 2
Uri Geller 2 Morton Downey Jr. - 2
Peter Hurkos 2 Maury Povich - 2
Marie Osmond 2 Steven Weinberg (Physics) - 2
Hillary Clinton 2 Butterfly McQueen (who played "Prissy" in
Admiral Rickover 2 "Gone With The Wind") 2
P. Buckley Moss (Artist/Illustrator) 2 Madison Arnold - 2
Dr. Jonas Salk 2 Julia Sweeney (played Androgynous Pat on
Stephan Hawking - 2 Saturday Night Live) - 2
G. Gorgon Liddy - 2 Pat Boone - 2
Winston Churchhill - 2 Jimmy Roberts of the Lawrence Welk Show - 2
Michael Gorbechev - 2 Grant Geisman (guitarist) - 2
Isaac Asimov - 2 Fred Petry (who was Stan Kenton's drummer
MGySgt Carlos Hathcock - 2 for a while) - 2
Donald Trump - 2 Buddy Childers (trumpeter) - 2
Merv Griffin - 2 Steve Benson, Pulitzer Prize winning editorial
Chris Craft (NASA Administrator) - 2 cartoonist for the Arizona Republic - 2
Arthur C. Clark - 2 Joy Berry (author) - 2
Caspar Weinberger - 2 Stephen Jay Gould - 2
Pope Paul 1999 - 2 Ann Druyan (Carl Sagan's) - 2
Mike Monroe (Artist) - 2 Robert Sapolsky - 2
Gov. Engler (MI) - 2 Barbara Ehrenreich - 2
Kareem Abdul Jabar (basketball) - 2 Ed Larson - 2
Wilt Chamberlain - 2 Stanley Kutler (of Watergate fame) - 2
Nat King Cole - 2 Alice Walker - 2
Patsy Cline - 2 Philip Appleman (poet and Darwin/Malthus
Dan and Marilyn Quayle - 2 scholar, whose wife Marjorie is a successful
Captain Kangaroo - 2 Broadway playwright) - 2
-4-
Newt Gingrich - 2 Douglas Hofstader
Idi Amin - 2 Smokey the Bear (the actual original bear) - 3
Saddam Hussein - 2 The Beatles - 3
Dan Rather - 2 James Earl Jones - 3
George H. W. Bush - 2 Andrew Young - 3
Ted Turner - 2 Larry Niven - 3
Banach - 2 James Dickey (Deliverance) - 3
Dick Smith (Australia) - 2 Most of the cast of "The White Shadow" - 3
Francoise Barnes (World class quilt maker) - 2 Joan Van Arc - 3
Ted Kennedy - 2 Basil Gordon - 3
Swamis Muktananda and Chidvilasananda - 2 Connie Chung - 3
Buddy Hackett - 2 Clark Gable - 3
Jesse Jackson - 2 Vivian Leigh - 3
Richard Gere - 2 Clarence Darrow - 3
Marsha Mason - 2 Al Pacino - 3
Dick Cheney - 2 Harrison Ford - 3
Soupy Sales - 2 Menachem Begin - 3
Jimmy Carter - 2 Garrison Keillor - 3
Bill Gates - 2 Judy Garland - 3
Paul Davies - 2 Fred Astaire -3
Yoshi Oida - (Japanese Actor) - 2 Irving Berlin - 3
Larry Page - Co-founder of Google.com - 2 Rev. Berrigan (Cornell) - 3
Drummer fo Lynard Skynner - 2 Mao Tse Tung - 3
Jane Fonda - 3
Megele - 3
Natalie Wood - 3
Albert Einstein - 3 Dan Blocker - 3
Arnold Schwartzenegger 3 Michael Landon - 3
Marshall Tito of former Yugoslavia - 3 Unabomber (Ted Kazinsky) - 3
Burt Reynolds - 3 Gilles Deleuze - 3
Goldie Hawn - 3
Margaret O'Brien - 3 W. J. Bryan (Wilson's Secretary of State) - 4
Hugh Hefner - 3 Idi Amin - 4
Harry S Truman - 3 Adolf Hitler - 4
FDR and his brain trust - 3 Emmanuel Lasker (World chess champion) - 4
Richard Feynman - 3
Murray Gell-Man - 3
Dementialism - Daniele Pinna
I've been thinking about this for a while. Now, I'm just 18 and probably very ingenious, but if you'd
treat me with some patience I believe this here could at least be the start of a nice discussion here int
he forum. As such, criticism is greatly welcomed amongst all of you. I thank in advance those that
decide to read this idea of mine.
Having studied (for the most part) the evolution of art, literature, poetry, science, history an
philosophy through the centuries up to now, I believe that the current of thought has brought us to
Dementialism. From plain representation, art became more and more psychological. The seeking of
psychology and emotions within art brought us to impressionism, expressionism, surrealism and
beyond. Art slowly moved more into the absurd, through dadaism, towards total subjectivism and
landing on what today is called anti-art. The common sense of reality has been challenged and found
faulty many, many times. Quantum mechanics, relativity and chaos theory have left many scientists
struggling to understand what science really was. Philosophy died..... twice. Through the 19th
-5-
century, idealism reached its climax and its nadir. Hegel's choking rationalism was surpassed by
Schopenhauer, Kierkegaard and Nietzsche. Each of which became acclaimed (slowly but steadily) for
their unconstricting schemes; each of which tried to put an end to philosophy and its eternal mental
struggle by attacking the initial problem of man: "What's behind it all?" During the 19th (and into the
20th century) century the answers popped up by various philosophers were all as valid as the other.
Kierkegaard professed the infinite jump of faith, Schopenhauer plainly stated the existence of pain
behind Maya, Nietzsche dug out from the past the Greek's cyclic movement of life and gave us what to
him is the Eternal Return of everything and finally Wittgenstein killed philosophy for the first time by
announcing logically that man simply wasn't capable of answering everything. Then history gave us
the final blow. The second world war didn't just massacre men, it massacred our minds. "Where was
God?" everyone said. Where was God in the middle of Auschwitz? How come the western human race,
thought to be incredibly advanced humanistically, couldn't manage to impede what happened.
Philosophy crumbled, all answers were vain, and it died. Our society quickly fell into an existential
relativsm and cartesian-like skepticism. The total absence of reference points and solid life values
turned our society into into a superficial working class that has become slave of what philosophers call
Techne, economy, machines, scientific research, consumerism and non-stop production. Rational and
irrational mixed, all answers are perfectly valid for that which we cannot comprehend. Man has always
had a petpeeve, it has never been able to accept non-sense (inteded as the absence of sense). Man
has the urge of giving answers to everything. As scientific laws when in reach, as supernatural and
metaphysical when absurdly inconceivable for us. Mankind has to relax. It has to keep aiming for its
goals, but has to do so with conscience and principled perseverance. We shouldn't feel rushed by that
which we cannot understand. We should accept it for what it is and feel normal with it. We should
accept its irony and its unprejudice. We should learn to accept total non-sense as a possibility. We
should accept DEMENTIALISM.
Dementialism can affect all aspects of life. I believe it is the feeling of our times and that it can be an
actual current of thought. As such, it is capable of taking all forms, from poetry to paintings and from
philosophy to science. Dementialism can seem often absurd. The difference is that absurdity is total
chaos while dementialism is a very specific non-sense. Dementialism doesn't necessarily affect the
form of art, rather, it concentrates on the absurdity of the situation at hand. It should evoke in the
reader/viewer the feeling of being completely lost and invite him/her to accept it as an integral part of
who we are.
Here is an example of what I think is poetic dementialism.
Crushed by love
On the eve of our profane love,
outdated,
exhausted,
and just plain jaded,
I sat down on my kitchen rug,
coughed,
and took a bite of sour cheese.
Passion
Rage filled me,
ecstasy took me,
a smile slapped me
and a tear flew.
Emotions everywhere;
all was healthy
and all was sick.
In total chaos,
as they mixed
quicker and quicker,
my shoe flew,
into the sink.
-6-
Reply Dementialism - Merlin Carl
this is quite an interesting approach; i shall comment further on it. did you notice the parallels to zen-
buddhism and the koans? personally, i must admit that, though i accept wittgensteins challenge, i
never considered kant obsolet; in fact, i think the philosophers of enlightement and those of modern
times like nietzsche simply talked about entirely different things, namely a metaphysical aspect versus
a historic/psychological, thus empirical view. history might have proved metaphyics unusefull, but not
wrong. "dementialism" might be a healthy alternative to the never fullfilled hopes to understand
everything; and might especially help to accept the thought that there is no will behind nature (an
idea that even atheists often fail to fully accept; brain is so adapted to make sense of everything, that
it is almost impossible to escape this). nevertheless, its consequence might be resignation; if "der
mensch den pfeil seiner sehnsucht nicht mehr über sich hinauswirft" (nietzsche), that is, if he doesn´t
try the impossible from time to time, maybe this keeps him from achieving the possible. well, i don´t
think so; as far as i know, no mathematician has stopped working after gödels theorem made clear
that he could not answer all questions in one strike. but i´m not sure.
Kexin Skehan
You certainly have thrown a number of ideas and issues onto the table. While it is true that
most of our philosophies and ideals have been tried and found wanting, we still struggle to
comprehend and organize the existence around us. I would only caution you from reading too
much into your dementialism: existence can be absurd, beyond belief or understanding, at
times not worth the effort to explain. Yet there is meaning and there can be an organizing
principle to latch onto. Even if life is often nonsensical, it is an overstatement to say that it is
only absurd, and that all that's left for us is to represent its absurdities and its banality.
The English poet John Keats spoke in one of his letters of a principle of negative capability:that is,
even in the midst of crushing doubt as to the meaning of his life, or any life, the poet is still able to
create. I hear echoes of that notion in your lines.
As you see, I don't have an opposing philosophy to offer; I am only bouncing off what you have
advanced. No doubt others out there have passed along deeper wisdom already.
Thank you for your response Kevin, it's nice to see my post wasn't utter nonsense. - Daniele Pinna
"Yet there is meaning and there can be an organizing principle to latch onto. Even if life is often
nonsensical, it is an overstatement to say that it is only absurd, and that all that's left for us is to
represent its absurdities and its banality."
I perfectly agree with you. Infact, dementialism isn't supposed to make people stop caring about
searching for answers. It's supposed to stimulate and boost research. What I was trying to go against
are the metaphysical, sophistic, non demonstrable answers that people give to quickly solve
phenomenons and concepts which they cannot understand. Dementialism doesn't mean to
acknowledge everything that we don't know as absurd and start living in blissful ignorance, it means
to accept problems as non-solvable until a full-proof, applicable answer is given to them.
New Anxiety Disorder Discovered - Paul Nachbar
-7-
(March 15, 2004 8:53 AM EST) Scientists at The Institute for Biobehavioral Undertanding have
discovered and isolated a new anxiety disorder: Ides of March Anxiety Disorder (IOMAD)Although this
is suspected to have strong genetic components, scientists believe that other factors may be present
in the genesis of AOFMD, which seems prevalent in certain sectors of the male and to a lesser extent
female population of mostly post-industrial Western nationa. Although further research is mandated
here, this disorder, which has manifested itself in a test populatoin of some 10,000 random subjects,
seems to have some correlation with higher IQ levels as well as higher testosterone levels both among
men and women.
Among the symptoms of IOMAD are an extreme preoccupation with the historical events ofcuring in
the Roman Forum or Senate in 44 B.C.E, when Julius Caesar, in the midst of a political situation, was
assassinated by several of his friends and senators.Individuals suffering this disorder maintain an
extreme preoccupation with the past, which is of course unhealthy,
which also shows itslef in neurotic and bordeline psychotic forms. In some cases, the overidentification
with these events, at around this date, produces what may be termed a version of Seasonal Effective
Disorder including in this case, excessive fears of intrigues and assassinations, conspiracies among
one's peer group and intemperate concerns with both justice, injustice and many highly
overintellectual values. Individuals seen in the population studied who manifested extreme symptoms
of the disorder idetnfied with all of the players in this regrettable long ago incident, though most
generally here with Juluis Caesar, who was of course actually assassinated.
Treatment includes long or short-term cogntive behaviroal adjustments,
reality orientation and also the use of certain ant-anxiety medications deemed suitable for this variety
of obsessive compulsive states.Here at the Institute, where our goal is to keep you and your fmaily
and the community and your loved ones happy, functioning,alert, bright, lively, cheerful, out of
trouble and well into our cash flow..we wish you the best of all possible Ides of Marches.
For further information please call 1-900 XXX-XXXX.
Thank you
The Institute.
"the place where history and imaginatino, mind and faith just do not matter...any longer"
More High IQ Hazards - Paul Nachbar
Hiring one of the best lawyers in the world, yourself usually, to prove you are absolutely
innocent or absolutely guilty of anything..Or two of the best lawyers.The case can drag on for
centuries.
Hiring one of the best physicists or mathematicians in the world, yourself usually, to explore
certain understandings of the broader cosmos, then forgetting you are a part of it. Hm, how DID I end
up in Antartica? It is COLD here and there are no 7-11's.What am I doing on Mars?
Bacterium are no fun even if they are alive.
Hiring one of the best psychologists in the world, usually yourself, to prove you have or do not
have some particular malady. Or two of the best psychologists. See: situation with lawyers.Goooood
luck with this one.
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Hiring one of the best philosophers in the world, usually yourself, to figure out certain areas of human
understanding. You figure them out and then, hm, why did all these dumb
commonsense stories always seem to come true?
Hiring one of the best artists/writers, usually yourself,to illustrate/create/write the story of your life,
as all stories in some non-trivial sense ultimately are..and 'all that has happened'. Or two. Or more.
Then forgetting that the story of your life or pictures whatever is not actually your life. Yes, you forgot
your prescriptions (again), can't remember who you actually are or were before the fifteen different
modes of perception and figure that it is time, once again, to go to the psychologist.. er..yourself.
Good luck here!
Telling the 'wrong person' any of this at any time.Oops..Time for a lobotomy.
20 Signs Your Life in Your Forties has been a Comedy(so far) - Paul nachbar
1) You finished college and at least some grad school long ago. (if
applicable)
2).If you did not get the Phd(s), you can make jokes about PhDs. If you did
get your PhD you can laugh (somewhat) at such jokes (if applicable)
3) You are not horribly bothered by an occasional low IQ score or loss in any
similar game.Even if other people think you are....you do KNOW you're really not..grr
4) You have published (exhibited) and/or hogged the credit, that is even more
than was due you, for at least some of what you really wanted to publish
without going through the worst possible consequences thereof (which often
happens)
5) If you are very lucky you do this in style.(above)
6) Other people and occasionally yourself find you "sexy" and want to have
sex with you (uh, including you, but depending on culture) at least some of the
time with or without hair (males) excess weight (both)..etc
7) You know what your bad habits are whether you know what to do about them.
And keep them down to a manageable number.
8) Other people (more than 2) at least occasionally really do respect you and
you at least occasionally also respect yourself.
9) You realize that except for trivial things, and moments of at least
somewhat self-aware grandiosity, than you probably know a tenth or less of what you
thought you knew.
10) You know that you have had every temptation in the book, just like
anybody else, but have not totally succumbed to these, or gotten caught in a serious
manner.
11) You realize that almost no person or institution ever tells the whole and
non-self interested truth, except occasionally a deceased parent..and can
vaguely handle that.
12) You are capable of making at least one joke per month. As opposed to
simply living in one.
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13) You somewhat understand that great or famous whatever dead and living
people are just other people, or were..or something in the middle.
14) You do a fair accounting and administration of life and memories and
realize that in at least some ways you have become less stupid over time.
15) You have learned to throw a sh*tfit without ending up in a sh*tpile.
16) You realize with at least some degree of reasonabiltiy (absence of
malice, self-hatred, endless regret etc) that the vast majority of games in life are
rigged, for you, against you or both, despite what "everybody says"
17) You realize that "sanity" and "insanity" are not separate items like
foods in a messkit or school lunch treat but are more of a stew..with virtually
everybody.
18) You have found enough variety of ways of saying "life sucks" so that
people do not immediately shut you up or want to.
19) You are able to say far fewer stupider things in general to people than
you used to do.and not suffer too much by not saying them.
20) You are able to avoid making childish or dumb or ignorant remarks about
people who are different than you without falling into the politically correct
orthodoxies or other traps..that is, yeah, they ARE people too., like you and
different in ways you know you don't fully "get"
Thanks, Paoullissimo! - Thomas(Torg) Hadley
If I may presume to reflect upon signage:
1.) A summa cum laude M.S. degree has empowered me
to babysit hormone-crazed adolescents, and attempt to
edumicate 'em, whilst refraining from acting out urges to
clean up the gene pool.
2) "A Pile Higher and Deeper = Ph.D." is one oft- quoted equation,
aside from my "More of the Same = M.S.). Also, "The Devil throws another one on the pile." -
Einstein, upon receiving another honorary PhD. Another hit!
3) See #16.
4) How does one actually publish, sell, or get recognized for such,
outside a tiny interest group? Got Agent?
5) See #4.
6) Aside from 26 years of marriage, remaining STD-free, and blatant, yet
subliminal cues within the matrix of the Biological Imperative, you betcha!
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Maybe it's all about pheromones, anyway.
7) Damage control is a familiar 'discipline'.
8) The better the Actor refines his/her Craft, the greater the number.
9) The depths of my ignorance are overwhelming, despite my Gold Stars on
my teachers' posterboard.
10) No bullet wounds, decrees, institutional living: yes, all to the
good.
11) I do hear dead people. Sometimes, I can see them. In the White
House, driving around my town, just about anywhere, really.
12) Godot still hasn't shown up at the bus stop in front of The Firesign
Theater, for this clown, anyway. At least I'm wearing smaller red squeak-shoes, now.
13) Was Andy Warhol one of the Living Dead? I think so. Of course, there
was Jerry Garcia, too: that clinches it for me.
14) I mark that down to a subsidence of testosterone to manageable
levels, and masking the pheromone output.
15) Sanitized, scatological euphemisms retrieved from after-thoughts,
volleyed valiantly from a besieged redoubt: well, back to the Biological Imperative, for me.
16) Choosing ones battles wisely, discretion being the better part of
Valor, becomes self-evident, if one survives. Better yet, play no Shell Games, eh?
17) If, after repeated attempts, the idiot-savant breaks through the
Brick Wall and is translated into a supra-dimensional state of Grace, who is then the Fool? My
forehead is scarred and insensate. Still, I can see through the Wall.
18) "It's not What You Know, or Whom You Know, it's How You Form your
Lips." A veteran's quote that springs immediately to mind.
19) See #16.
20) See #1 through #19.
Thanks, Paul! That was a great reality check!
Eclogue (EK-log) noun - Paul Kisak
I came upon the recent definition of an
ancient form of poetry that I had not heard of before:
A pastoral poem, often in the form of a dialogue between shepherds.
[From Middle English eclog, from Latin ecloga, from Greek ekloge (selection),
from eklegein (to select), from ek- (ex-) + legein (to gather). Other
words derived from the same root are eclectic, lexicon, and catalog.]
The eclogue as a specifically pastoral form first appeared in the idylls
of Greek poet Theocritus. You can read Vergil's 10 Eclogues at:
http://worldwideschool.org/library/books/lit/plays/TheEclogues/chap1.html
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"The eclogue is traditionally the form of city folk who dress up in
smocks to praise the simple pains and pleasures of country life, so
it's surprising that a poet so well versed in rural actuality should
be willing to countenance it."
Jamie McKendrick; The Erotics of the Future; Independent on Sunday
(London, UK); Apr 8, 2001.
"Because the eclogues are such a highly stylized form of poetry, they
constitute a formidable challenge to any translator. The odd-numbered
poems are dialogues, the even-numbered have a single speaker. Virgil's
fragrant, bee-loud rural setting is placid, and at first not much seems
to be happening ..."
Robert Taylor; Virgil Puts Bite Into the Bucolic; The Boston Globe;
Aug 3, 1999.
First part The Graduate Revsited - Paul
Nachbar Benjamin Braddock: Et TU Mr Robinson?? MR
ROBINSON!!! But..but..you are regular
The weather sucks in NY and doesnt' seem like churchgoers..and you are such fine
Spring, so I've just been working on stories people..and so well groomed..
and stuff instead of going outside and smelling You have such a clean house..
flowers whatever. Figured I'd run this one
by.here because I havent' gotten responses Mr Robinson: Muhahaha.
elsewhere yet and we're POETS but..
Benjamin Braddock: Pictures of Jesus...angel
calendars..uh..everywhere.(frowns)
Paul
Jr Robinson: (sticks out her tongue laciviously)
kind of an out of sequence mishmash based on Benjamin Braddock: And your NUBILE
The Graduate of course and other things..Title SIXTEEN YEAR OLD DAUGHTER???? MR and
of the first part The Graduate Revsited..Of the MRS ROBINSON you should be ashamed of
second..You're a Robinson I'm a Robinson.. yourself!!!!! I'm horrified.
Paul (Mrs Robinson and Jr exchange rather pleased
looks)
Benjamin Braddock: Uh..Mrs Robinson..MR Mr Robinson: Ben..(putting his arm on Ben's
ROBINSON!!!! You are trying to seduce me!! shoulder) Ben,..Ben...BEN..we ALWAYS liked
And with the kids??That's illegal!!! you..(patting Ben's ass)
Mrs Robinson: No worries.. Mrs Robinson: Yes, dear, well,you are grown
up now..uh more than grown up.
Benjamin Braddock: No worries?? What are and somewhat settled too. We ALL really really
you TALKING about? I have..a fancy liberal liked you..
arts background...and ah very very high
IQ..and a very very high EQ.. Benjamin Braddock: Since...uh..when?
and well my principles..I ...do art..I can spell
modernism..uh I know what an episteme is.DO Jr Robinson: Hmm, Mommy,he's not being
YOU KNOW WHAT AN EPISTEME IS MRS FUN!!! I HATE YOU !! I HATE YOU!!!
ROBINSON DO YOU REMEMBER??
Benjamin Braddock: Whaaat??
Mr Robinson: No worries,sweetie..its for your
own good.
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Mrs Robinson: We're sorry Ben. we just don't
KNOW what to do with her. Sniffs.
She has a very, very high IQ..like Freddy..you
remember Freddy? Same scene. Darkness in the Robinson
household.
Freddy: Hi, I'm a Goth.Nice to meet
you..(offers thoroughly tatooed hand for a Mrs RObinson: You know,dear, it would be nice
shake) if jr learned to speak ..regular English one of
these days?
Benjamin Braddock: But WHY ME??
Jr Robinson: Bite me, mom!
Freddy: I like his ass too daddy, it's uh
shapely.. Mrs Robinson: Bite me???Bite you!you dumb
baitch!Ohhh..maybe Ben could do something
Mrs Robinson: Well, we offered you a few here?He could..teach her?
chances to ..lol escape..and well..
Freddy. Yeah Ben is good and everything.Like
Benjamin Braddock..But WHERE???? Julius Caesar!!!.I love Caesar..
Friends, Romans and countrymen..lend me
Mrs Robinson: Oh please..free will dear. your..uh..Aarrgghh! (falls to the floor
collapsing as if being stabbed multiple times).
Jr Robinson..Free Willy mommy..(jumps up Et two, Pluto!!.Stop!! Do it again, do it again!!!
and down hysterically) I'm dying...
Benjamin Braddock> I am shocked!! Ben Braddock: (laying in silence. gulps)
Mr Robinson: You making any money, these Mr Robinson: Yes..maybe Ben could teach
days, son?? her.don't know..hmm..start a school..uh..
Benjamin Braddock: Uh.. Jr Robinson: I looove Ben. A rose is a rose is a
rose is a rose and Ben is the sweetest of sweet
Mr Robinson: Well, we've always liked you.we roses and is so GOOD at everything.and soo
love you Ben..you know that. sexy.Mommmy. (starts crying silently)
mommy..mommmy.I love my ..mommy...too!
Benjamn Braddock..But may I?? (sits down pouting and playing with strands of
her staring at the twists and then at her
MRs Robinson: Anything you want, dear, fingertips..
absoltey anything..but..
Mr Robinson:Whispers to herself half audiby
Benjamin Braddock: But what?? (Gertrude..Stein??) Maybe.(smiles). Well, yes
Ben is good. Ben really is PRETTY
Mrs Robinson: It's time. good.Haha.Been awhile.Haha.Yeah...pretty
good.
Benjamin Braddoc: You have a great house,
you have millions!! What do you want from Mrs Robinson. We LOVE you Ben (rubs Ben's
me?? body). We LOOOOVE you.Dear, DEAR! (nudges
her husband--half audibly..I thought we
Mrs Robinson: Time to sell to the 'masses' thought Jr was..a lesbian??She's not..? I
dear. dont' worry..you'll enjoy it. mean..hmm..I guess she's not??Oh!! She's
not.at least..today she's not??Well..good!
Benjamin
Braddock:NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Mr Robinson: Well..Ben was pretty good but
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO tomorrow is a new day. Ah.
OO!!! Freddy: I heard that!! I'm a lesbian!!!! (gets
up and stomps around the room)
lights go out..all sorts of disparate noises, Haha! I'm a lesbian! You're a lesbian!! We're
followed by an almost silent hmmm lesbians!!I know what we are!! We're
LESBIANS!!! Uh..what's a lesbian? I think i
Mr Robinson: We ALWASY liked you Ben know well they say..or I don't know.Maybe
not? (sits down and pouts)
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Mrs Robinson: Don't worry Ben dear, you'll get
Ben Braddock: Hear no evil, speak no evil do what you want..what you really want.
no evil (very quietly)
Ben Braddock: (imploringly) I ..will??
Mr Robinson: Yes, Ben is..pretty good.Prettty
good. You know..Ben? Hahaha Beennn??? Mrs Robinson: Of course, silly. We're not THAT
(nudges him). You've gotten so POPULAR lately bad. I mean we do..bad things..
and isn't that wonderful..gives us all hope. a we all do..I mean the Indians, the blacks, the
late bloomer haha. buffalo.the A Bomb, the H Bomb, the Neutron
Bomb..heaven knows.we've been horrible
Ben Braddock.(to self very quietly) I'm soemtmies..dreadful.Sniffs
finished.(moans softly) .
Mrs Robinson: (hearing this) Oh, Ben haha Freddy: You bastards have been AWFUL!!!
.behave!!! They told me at school that..
Mr Robinson: Ok, Ben, time to wake up,ok? MRs Robinson: Later, Freddy..Please..But for
Dear, the man needs some coffee..bring over all the bad we do..we're family..
some ham and eggs too, toast, the
works.Anything for Ben.. Mr Robinson. Co-sa No-stra. (makes gestures
Hey, Ben..you know in this life as I always say, with his hands). This THING between us?
nice guys finish last.. FAMILY!! The most basic bond between all
humans..
Ben Braddock: (gulps)
Mr Robinson: You read the Wall St Journal Mrs Robinson: He's right, Ben.
Ben? Hey!! Studmuffin??
Ben Braddock: I know..he is.the family of man.
Ben Braddock.Yes.I do.
Mr Robinson: Always Antartica, Ben..
Mr Robinson: Bet you read fast too, eh?
Ben Braddock: It's cold...there..and..
Ben Braddock: (very softly).Yess..
Mr Robinson: I'm allergic to penguins.
Mr Robinson. Yes. Well, slow down..We love
you Ben but you move too fast for Jr Robinson: Ben..we ARE bad.but there isn't
everybody..give a man a heart attack!! Dear!! anywhere else to go..sniffs..(tragic glance)I
Give this man a drink!! HEY! WANNNT TO DIE!!! I"M GOING TO KILL
He needs a drink! Ok, good buddy, let's talk MYSELF!!
about the marketplace.
Ben Braddock:(gets up) NOO!!
Ben Braddock: Uh.do I get to sleep?
Mr Robinson: Ben, I'm not the brightest bulb in
Mr Robinson: Um. Ben, know what the cosa this city, but I did read your
nostra means? piece on the demolecularizer..pretty clever..
Ben Braddock: Sir, are you trying to tell me Ben Braddock:sigh
here that the Robinson family that i grew up
near and loved are affiliated with the Mafia? Mr Robinson: Reduces individuals to sub-
atomic particles in fractons of a second to well
Mr Robinson: Ben!! You're being absurd!! minutes at a time..the slow method?
Course not.Cosa nostra means "this thing Individuals, societies,,planets..galaxies..
between us.."
Ben Braddock: I'm AAAWFUL.(disgusted)..The
Ben Braddock: I know.. worst.
Mr Robison. Ben! We love you!! Haha. Haven't Mr Robinson: Poor Ben..
had a workout like that in 20 years. And.
Mrs Robinson: Poor Ben!! (crying)
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Jr Robinson: (picking up a very sharp knife Mr Robinson: Do you believe everything people
with a glazed look in her eyes..) tell you, Ben?
I WANT TO DIE!
Ben Braddock:uh..may I beg to differ? I don't
Mr Robinson: That's what gifted means, believe anything people tell me, Mrs Robinson.
Benny..the best..and the worst..
Mrs Robinson. Oh so formal..and after all
Ben Braddock: Uh, but..when in Rome..live like THAT..Sweetie, just call me Flora!
the Romans????? My mom told me that..
Ben Braddock: Okay....Flora..
Mrs Robinson: Your mother,sweet lady, was
lying dear. Mrs Robinson: Who? There's nobody named
Flora here..Oh sorry. THe name is Deborah.
Ben Braddock: Whaa?
Ben Braddock: I know.
Mr Robinson: For everybodys sake.
Mrs Robinson: Are we..boring you dear?
Ben Braddock;BUt they said I was
immature..and it hurt! Mr Robinson: We're boring him?? Stop that.
We cant bore our guest. Not civilized.
Freddy: (shokes a laugh)
Mrs Robinson: I feel so..impotent.
Mr RObinson: Help us grow up, Ben..please??
Mr Robinson: Ben..Ben!! You don't want my
Mrs Robinson: (very sincere) Please? wife to feel impotent, do you?? Jeezuz..the last
time she...oh PLEASE Ben!!.She gets
Ben Braddock: I owe it to my country? Ask not hysterical!..
what your country can do for you but what you
can do for your country. My mother quoted Benjaman Braddock: A poet's work is never
that to me when I was five.. done.Oh I mean no offense, Mrs Robinson..I
know the saying is.
Mr Robinson: Yeah Kennedy Kennedy...ah.Your
country is a bunch of psychotics Ben. Mrs Robinson: Who? Me!! Haha!! I'm a worker
bee..a worker bee..high class worker bee!! I'm
Ben Braddock: Whaaa?? NOTHING..
Mr Robinson: YOU were not psychotic. Benjamin Braddock: Poor sweetheart.......
Ben Braddock: Butt?? Mrs Robinson: SIts on the couch, smiling to
herself, sobbing gently. Looks under the couch,
Mr Robinson: We drove you psychotic, Ben. gets up and picks up the empty bottles of
We're sorry. We had to.. vodka and throws them angrily into the
garbage disposal..Never, NEVER AGAIN!!!
Ben Braddock: I'm soo....sick.
Mr Robinson:Her???A poor sweetheart???Jeez,
Mr Robinson..No you're so healthy. how did YOU?? What a man! Listen, Ben.you
can have anything you want here! Anything! I
Ben Braddock: Then I'm a liar. have connections! I can get it for you
wholesale! Girls? You want girls?
Mrs Robinson: No you're so very truthful..it's ANYTHING!! Anything you want buddy boy
embarassing between 9 and 97.Boys? You want boys?
ANYTHING! Please accept this humble
Ben Braddock.What do you want of me? offer!!Dogs, cats??SNuff films!!
ANYTHING!Kinky? You want
Mrs Robinson.Just be yourself. Kink??ANYTHING..In any global market..
No, he's not pretty good. SHeet. I'm sorry.
Ben Braddock; THey said i was just playing You're Great!! Uh, no, you want money????
games.
Benjamin Braddock..Uh, Mr Robinson..?
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Mr Robinson: You can call me Frank.. Jr Robinson: Dont' dissapoint us, Ben.Please!!!
We get.STRANGE..when we
Benjamin Braddock: Ok, uh Frank.I just came are...DISAPPOINTED..Like, you KNOW???
by last night to make a phonecall..
I was visiting my mother for dinner and her Benjamin Braddock. You're right.Ok..(sits
power went off..uh...that's all I meant down).I'll be good.
to do..I didnt' intend to stay here. Saw you
were in,we were old neighbors ..of course. Mrs Robinson: (half singing) I have the pencil!
I have hte paper! Now relax, Benjamin, we are
Mr Robinson: Oh,,oh?? Oh, you can use the being sincere. Everything really will be okay.
phone Ben..Freddy, GET THIS MAN THE
PHONE???Hey you idiot!! Benjamain Braddock: I know that, Chrissy.
Benjamin Braddock:No,that's all right.They're Mr Robinson:(warning) Ben????
not in now.I'll just go home and call them
later. Benjamin Braddock: NO, I mean, I KNOW! I
know it will be okay..Okay??Frank??
Mr Robinson: What do you want, Ben?? Just
tell us. Just tell us what to do!!! Mr Robinson: All right. Good!! Now one thing, I
know, as a man of some experience.
Benjamin Braddock: I don't know.Not Just Ben..uh you're being a bit idealistic. You'll
much.Sort of, you mean in general? get the rest here, just ..uh. .forget about that
RELAXATION nonsense..No one is relaxed,
Mr Robinson: TELL US!! Ben..it's not natural..
You're like..living in the past.you know..? This
Benjamin Braddock: A reasonable existence uh is the 21st century.
on this planet for the duration of
my existence. Uh, to relax..kind of..be happy, Benjamin Braddock: Uh, my mistake Frank. I
maybe? Be myself,uh.whatever.. thought it was the 31st century..I'm sorry..I
get confused about time..sometimes. I lost my
Freddy: Global power, Bennie? You want global watch..They break on me a lot
power??
Freddy: Whee!! Ben can do everything good!!
Benjamin Braddock: Uh.Hm.I can't say I'm not
.tempted? My dayjob did not pay too well..But Mr Robinson: Okay,,we'll get the watch thing
all right, power corrupts and absolute power fixed..Just relax, ok??
corrupts absolutely..my mother used to say
that. Mrs Robinson: And dear..I have something
very profound to add..If you are ever
Mrs Robinson: I am getting a sick, SICk very very lonely sad and unhappy here...just
headache.. click your heels together three
times and say "there's no place like home,
Mr Robinson: ALL RIGHT! Ben, you are all over there's no place like home..
the place..(to Freddy) PLease, Freddy, stop (hugs herself) there's no place like home!! It's
humping my leg!!! It's not polite! Kids! so eassyyyyyyyy??
Okay..you are not concentrating.Ben.You
are..distracted.Sit, sit!!! We'll draw up a list. A Benjamin Braddock:(staring through the
list!!! Step by step!.Flora!! window panes and at the night sky,
tilting his head slightly past a tree to a very
Mrs Robinson: (perks up suddenty)Oh, a faint smudgy area of the sky, looks at the
list??haha. I know how to do that!!.Be right faces in the room,sniffs,slightly wide-eyed,
back..sweetie.Got to get a pen or pencil..I like nervously brings his right forefinger and thumb
this. together, opens his mouth and mouths an
inaudible one syllable word ,rocks forward
Mr Robinson: Ok, we help you get organized slightly and then sinks down, lifts his left hand
and draw up the list..and then you tell us what and vaguely points at an area of the smudge,
to do?? okay?? droops and lifts his hand and gives up,makes a
slight wave, muttering very very softly,
"but.."Nobody hears. Shakes his head, turns
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and smiles."Oh well, guys, never mind, no Benjamin Braddock: I know that, Frank. But
matter.." television was only invented in..
Mr Robinson: LOOK, Ben, YOU know and I
Mr Robinson: Haha!! Finally talks! They'll quote KNOW that TV football is MORONIC and
you on that one, Ben.Uh, whateer it CHILDISH AND VIOLENT NASTY STUFF and the
means.Very...clever. game is so rigged and big bucks that NOBODY
HAS FUN ANYMORE but THEY DON'T KNOW!
Y'KNOW?? What SHOULD WE DO?? We're
Mrs Robinson: Surprise, Ben,your mother just BORED
called. I hadn't spoken to her in YEARS. She
was worried but figured you were here. I dont' Benjamin Braddock: We'll think of something
know how..She says..and I know you are a bit Frank.
OLD for this teehee..it's time for you to get a
haircut. Mr Robinson: WHAT?
I mean, if you want..
Benjamin Braddock: I WILL think of
Freddy: Sir? something. Hold your horses, man??Promise.
Look, I gotta go. I'll call you later?
Benjamin Braddock: ..Uh?
Mrs Robinson: You will Ben??
Freddy: She's right. Youd look...much
younger..?? Benjamin Braddock: Yes
Benjamin Braddock..Okay, little buddy. Mrs Robinson: You're not just playing us,
Ben??
Mr Robinson: You okay, Big Man? Want a
drink? Benjamin Braddock. No.
Benjamin Braddock: All's well that blends well, Mr Robinson: Ben??
Frank..in this er best of all possible worlds..
Benjamin Braddock: Uh cosa nostra..Frank.
Mr Robinson.Nice..Whatever. What's your Don't worry, ok?(shrugs) Gotta go. Night
poison?? everybody.
Benjamin Braddock: Bourbon and ginger ale? Jr Robinson: (staring out the window pressing
her lips to the glass) mouths "I will miss you
Mr Robinson: Straight up or rocks? darling.."
Benjamin Braddock: (looking serious) Rocks. Mrs Robinson: Think he'll come back, Frank?
Uh not much ginger ale.
Mr Robinson: Don't know
Mr Robinson:Good, good.Ok the big games' on
soon. You staying or leaving? Mrs Robinson: Sometimes they do???
Benjamin Braddock:The game? Mr Robinson: Sometimes they dont.
Sometimes they do. Hm I dont know
Mr Robinson: Football.BIG GAME!!!! BIG
GAME!!!!! (pauses) Look Ben, I know you think Mrs Robison: It was nice Frank?
we're a bunch of idiots.
Mr Robinson: Hm, something could do wrong.
Benjamin Braddock: Oh no, Frank, really
no.(throws up hands). REALLY! I DON'T. Mrs Robinson: Or something could go right??
You're being a pessimist, dear
Mr Robinson: Ok.... I"M SORRY. We watch the
BIG GAME. Our fathers watched the BIG GAME Mr Robinson: We'll do what we usualy do.
on television and our father's fathers and our
fathers' fathers..It's tradition..Things fall apart Mrs Robinson: How clever! If something
without tradition, Ben! goes wrong, it's his fault. If something goes
right it's our credit!!
- 17 -
Mr Robinson: Hahah! He just can't win, poor Mrs Robinson..Not tonight dear.
sucker!!!!!
(scene changes, the street. Ben is walking
Mr Robinson: Hm, he'll just have to play his home at night,whistling bits of this or that
cards right.. classical theme among others, start and stop,
makes a futile angry gesture with one hand
Mrs Robinson: What are we going to talk about against his raincoat and shakes his head in a
tonight? somewhat agitated manner.Then he looks up
into the night sky, alone on the street. The
Mr Robinson: I dont' know. Do you know? small, grey smudgy area in the sky he
observed formerly begins expanding and turns
Mrs Robinson: I don't know. I thought you a bright blueish color.
knew? The stars or apparant stars gather together to
form phrases.It all lasts about three seconds.
Mr Robinson: Stop it Frank.
YOU'RE NOT THEM. DON'T WORRY
Mrs Robinson: Huffs.
YOU"RE NOT THAT DIFFERENT EITHER. DON"T
Mr Robinson: So what do we do tonight, dear- WORRY.THEY LIKE YOU.
ie?
THEY"RE NOT THEM EITHER. THEY"RE TOO
Mrs Robinson: I don't know Pinkie. CONFUSED TO THINK ANYTHING THROUGH
ANYMORE. YOU"RE NOT
Mr Robinson. Ok Brain.You tell me.
DON"T BOAST. NOBODY LIKES THAT
Mrs Robinson: We try to..take over the world.. INCLUDING YOU
Mr Robinson. Of course. As usual. And always TRY NOT TO WHINE AS THEY REFER TO "IT"
lose.(pouts)
WE KNOW THATS ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE
Mrs Robinson: Or maybe this is winning?
NEVER SAY NEVER
Mr Robinson: Who knows? I wish i knew
WE KNOW THAT'S ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE AT
Mrs Robinson: No you don't. TIMES
Mr Robinson No WE don't. THE LONG DARK NIGHT IS NOT ENDLESS
Mrs Robinson; We don't, do we? WE KNOW THAT SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE TO
CONCEIVE
Mr Robison..WE DON'T!!
BYE, FRIEND
Mrs Robinson: Or it's dust in the wind..
WE LOVE YOU
Mr Robinson: I know...endust in the wind
AND MISS YOU
Mrs Robinson: Forever and ever.
LATER...SWEETIE......
Mr Robinson: And ever..
SMILE...SOMETIMES? TRY?
Mrs Robinson: And ever..
Then the lights go away and the sky is once
Mr Robinson: TV, golf, food or sex, booze, pot , again almost pitch black, still the little spot of
medications or sadomasochism? grey somewhere .
Mrs Robinson:Whatever..A good book Ben turns away, mutters now "makes sense to
perhaps...........?? me" then "kinda". and then "oh well"..and
finally, "tired..long day..another
Mr Robinson: Scrabble? day..".."stuck..hm..ok with me"
- 18 -
and 'whatevah'.."who knows, who cares?' and re not that bad..even, hm, pretty good.well?
then "uh I do.." and then "damn, not tonight, deep down all people are good? hm..yes and
dear, we have a headache."..and finally no. um but pretty good. not bad.uh, family
"ok"."is that realy ok" "sure" sounds. really..nice..OKKKK. nuff!! time to
'its not ok' 'no it'snot ok' "stop thats REALLY sleep"
not ok" and then'well then it's ok.." ."ah..I'll
try"..and "hell with France...hey, hell with Paul
Greece"..and finally, "maybe they
The World's Least Practical Idea - Paul Nachbar
Everybody it seems is competing for something or winning or losing or just withdrawing, whether or
not in a state of 'disgrace'. What they are competing for is almost always in some sense practical, that
is useful in some sense, even if it is other things, such as 'ideal', at least to a given individual or set of
individuals.. Of course 'useful'or 'practical' can mean many things from absolutely necessary to
survival-or even a place in heaven for many- to oh I'd like to have a 10,000 item for my collection. I
mean in dull,economic terms though poets and lyricists and people when being "emotional"
exaggerate about this for good or bad or well or poorly. They even invented a unit to measure this,
the utile or unit of usefulness but that's another story.
And now for something completely different, as Monty Python would say.Or else I have had too little
sleep for too long. This idea comes from nowhere and goes nowhere and does not take one from any
A to any B. It cannot be exchanged at least here for any income in the marketplace of so called 'ideas'
and will garner no adherents or believers.It cannot change anything in any sense yet seems to me,
and i guess i have read and thought and worked and acted in the world a bit, somewhat of an insight.
Which is not at all weak but absolutely powerless. And in this world, which can be both mad in it's
order and mad in its chaos, a hopeless case, I suppose.But at least given my current microeconomic
and other equations of being, there is no punishment for this.Whatever.
Conceive of the world of people, whatever else, as a set of households,the minimum being one
individual who may not have an actual physical home.According to population studies, there are about
6.3 billion households in the world which have many different sorts of occupants with many religious
or spirituial or political or philosohpical or other belief systems or anti-systems so called and habits
and nationalities and pathologies and problems and good times and bad and incomes or lacks of them
and of course six point three billion stories from another point of view etc..Throughout human history,
written and preliterate, about one hundred billion in all. And many more, though an unknown figure,
this century and perhaps beyond. A world of many many things, including wants and needs, met or
not met, expressed or not expressed, through one method or another. But also something else very
very simple.Uh, hypothesis here or just an observation about the whole, not a set of given parts of the
whole.
All households, whatever else there is to them, are also made of "glass"
That is, this glass can both darken and admit "light" in and out of them.
One might or might do something "practical" or "imaginitive" or "real" or "unreal" with this insight. But
good to think of sometimes amid the plethora of 'the real world worries'.My guess.anyway.
for (somewhat) traditional theoretical or critical component to the poem below, please see The World's
Least Practical Idea 4/1/04
Windows of the World Poem - Paul Nachbar
- 19 -
Their darkness and illuminations shine through my windows.
My darkness and illuminations shine through theirs.
Her darkness and illuminations shine through my windows
My darkness and illuminations shine through hers.
His darkness and illuminations shine through my windows
My darkness and illuminations shine through his.
Your darkness and illuminations shine through my windows
My darkness and illuminations shine through yours.
Pican Dialogues Continued - Paul Nachbar
see March-April 2002 Apotheosis Pican Dialogues 1-IV
(segment)
Vavi: I will not act against your feelings..
though reason is, I believe, on my side.
Let us decide the matter by a neutral,
random process via the central computer.
If the random number turns out odd,
they live; if even, they die.
Havlak: This is only fair...
Vavi: (addressing the terminal) Computer:
create a list of random integers from
1 to 1000 and then randomize this list.
Now, choose one number.. (reading the
screen). Okay, Havlak..It is decided:
they shall live. I rest my case.
Havlak: (sadly but with gratitude) At least
for now..
(end)
Vavi: What's new dear?
Havlak: Same old, same old.
Vavi: Me too. Sad?
Havlak: Yes.
Vavi: It could be me, dear, but you have been ..obsessed
for quite some time.
Havlak: I know. But it's very hard to stop. I am embarassed.
Vavi: Poor sweetheart. (hugs Havlak who hugs him back)
Havlak:And over such trivial matters! Am I going mad?
Vavi: Hmm..Uh. No. Let's think! That small planet Earth..
it's that? Right? Again.
Havlak: (silent for several moments)
Vavi: No need to be ashamed. We love each other. You
can tell me..ok?
Havlak: Ok.It's Earth again! But I feel so awful. Why do
I have to have these silly thoughts over and over in
my mind about such inconsequential things?
Vavi: Well, you were being very sweet? You cared a great
deal about them. I know..
- 20 -
Havlak: I'm an idiot. I should write a book here: women who love doomed planets too much.
Vavi: No, no.
Havlak: Seriously. You had the right idea, Vavi. You always
do.They're a major disappointment. You were not just
being male..and bad...and brutal. Though of course I...
sometimes like that. You were being practical. I should
have listened You wanted to just get rid of them. Why
didnt' I listen?? And these awful, awful thoughts..
Vavi: I was injust Havlak. They are really not so bad. They
were not a threat to the universe and did not mean to
be. Even their little wars. It was an exaggeration, a
bluff, a multicasualty farce.
Havlak: I know. Humans REALLY suck, Vavi! And I tried so
HARD to love them! What an idiot I was.
Vavi: Dear, it was understandable. It was! They merely
wanted attention.
Havlak: And did all THAT to get it? How childish! Disgusting. If you won't toss that stupid planet away,
I'll do it myself and right now. Um, do you mind?
Vavi: Dear..please.Try not to be so angry. Oh again. I did
it to myself. Hm.It's not always childish to want attention. Adults want attention. Both mortal and
immortal beings want attention.UH.
Havlak: Sentiment-al ed-u-cat-ion. (pouts)..
Vavi: Look, I have not turned soft. But I did do some
research on their current philosophers. Yech! The
existentialism so called and cultural despair and all
these schools of nasty dumb exploitive and degenerate junk. Look I don' t care that much--they're
idiots-but it gave me
a headache. And then their rambling on and on and on
about what they so smilingly term meta-physics.But I got depressed even browsing this
stuff.Crisis all the time of course
on such a primitivelydeveloped world, but just garbage
to READ and WATCH and LISTEN TO?? Poor idiots..poor sick idiots.
Havlak: SO what's your Idea, dear, what do we do?
Vavi: I don't know. There are many many many other
channels on the intergallactic tellie.But we got stuck on
this one. We're hooked.It stinks. .
Havlak: Is this an addiction problem, dear? There are
proper counselors for such things.on Pico
Vavi: No.beyond that. We have to find some way to give
them the appropriate...attention. They are kind of.amusing, uh, likeable, sympathetic too at times
too.and very very occasionally loveable?
Havlak:But is that good or bad?
Vavi: The right..format.thinking here.stage platform media
modus operandi..hmm
Havlak: OK dear, I trust you You'll think of something.
Vavi: Soon I hope.This is giving me a headache.
Havlak: Me too.
Vavi: Sometimes these quantum entanglements with
other life forms are just..
Havlak:No need.to say anything You'll do it dear. And it will be...
Vavi: What, love?
Havlak: Well for you (kisses him very 'cutely) ..a piece of cake!.
Vavi: Good night. Sweet dreams
Havlak: Sweet dreams ,dear
Mediocrity Incorporated - Paul Nachbar
- 21 -
If you have imagined that there are forces about which are preventing your personal, intellectual and
creative growth beyong a "certain level", the odds are, 8/10 times that this is not 'paranoia' or a
'personal issue' but that you are probably somewhat correct.This is not the work of peer group
pressure, tyrannical families, media moguls or monsters, natural supply and demand,aliens, vampires,
foreigners, 'bad people' conspiracies of one or another "group" organized along ethnic, gender,
income, political or racial lines but the organized labors or a little known conspiracy called Mediocrity
Incorporated.
Although I am hardly (haha) at liberty to divulge some of the identities of major or minor members of
this conspiracy against western civilization, it is clear that their efforts have been both secret and well-
rewarded.Their goal?
To make sure that all forces for cultural and individual growth are contained by the matrices of given -
so to speak-- interests and self-interests. The organization which secretly calls itself Mediocrity
Incorporated poses, in public and private life, both as popularism and as certain forms of elite,
academic, business or even psychiatric/pop psychology culture. Their goal? Overthrow, paralysis by
any means possible. Anticipated results? By the year 2020, everything that is put out by any
permitted media will consist purely of reruns and open discussion of any issues beyond a 9th grade
reading level or vocabulary will be psychologically impossible.All products produced by all corporations
including political products of all permitted parties will be profitable but at record low levels of
quality.The idea of quality of course will have been culturally annihilated by approximately 2013.
Motives? Profits to be sure in different sectors as well as personal resentments of one kind or another
regarding things like "bad piano lessons", "misdeeds"of various often long dead historical figures in
the arts and sciences", etc etc. Means? Flooding of art, intellect, emotions more complex than those
required for functioning and obedience and reasoning of any kind beyond "common sense" by a
bombardment of banalities, bad science and mixed messages.Result? Death of the individual; all
authority to special interest groups manipulated behind the scenes by Mediocrity Incorporated.
Ok. All of this is or may be certainly described as "negativity" or "pessimism" or "irrationality" or
extreme impracticality. For more practical purposes, if you are interested in an application for work at
Mediocrity Incorporated please contact:
XXXXXX%&aol.com.
thank you
(there are many openings in the corporation at (nearly) all levels. Salaries and benefits are highly
competitive with other currently offered packages)
When I Write Poetry - A. J. Nordström
When I write poetry, I have no obligations whatsoever to be intelligible, "smart" or "beautiful". Where
the formal tounge ends and poetry begins, or where poetry ends and nonsense begins, only the fool
can tell. The wise man keeps his mouth shut 'til there is nothing to say, then he sais it... with a poem!
I love the art of poetry, even though it very much is like washing gold -- you only find a precious
stone very occasionally. But poetry cannot be weighed and marked with prices. If I like a poem or not
is always up to me. Don't blame the poet -- and certainly do not blame the poem!
Aphorisms – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
Ex nihilo -
- 22 -
"What am I doing here?" the girl said. I said: "Come to my bed." "What am I doing here?" the girl said
again. I said: "Read my lips."
Nobody knows the trouble you have. Nobody wants to.
35820G3749R3829705728V4678E5728889? - Mystica persona!
I think kisses fit nicely into sex, personalizing it, providing another kick of shameful pleasure. Kinda
kinky.
There are three ways of learning: the right way, the wrong way, and the painful way. For the many, it
is the third that works, for the few, the first.
Symbol of Christo-Satanism: the Lucifix.
Sometimes I look into the mirror, asking myself: am I [censored]'n CRAZY - or just another genius...?
Aslant would be more brutal.
Always ask yourself the opposite: Altitude? Absence? Policy? Withdrawal? Solitude? Mimicry?
Tautology? Misdemeanor? Disguise? Attention? - since nobody knows your trouble.
Never lose your face trying to save it; it will remain grounded.
Time for time. Time for love, time for hate. Time for scandal, time for breakthrough, time for silent
progress.
How often is joy a sad thing; even if bored, laugh at the clown. His tears are yours.
Never dare cowardice!
Easy mistakes, primitive interface, and 10 steps to find the G point.
To miss the point, point out the obvious.
Teaching people those things you should know they already well know is never insult and always
offense.
Infinity; two points connected by random walk.
- Don't use Life, fear it? - Don't fear Death, use it.
Self reference does make sense.
Art of the game: exact obscurity.
Nothing is meaningless.
Message of the First Card: the easy way is the hard one. And the Fool goes downhill.
When people advice you to relax, have a second thought about it.
Women stay indoors. That's why men do not see them.
I filled the forty-eight (48) women listed in the State's second amended information.
There is no business like know business.
Join them to beat them!
- 23 -
7-up! - The sins? the virtues?
Anonymity bliss: the people that count will know you.
The worst way of exercising authority is on people who don't accept it.
Never care for people you scare.
Show it; earn it; never presume it: respect.
Don't ask, google.
I never promised you a rose garden. You did.
I made the shows my way. I took the bus.
Noozing selferential yidderish.
All that matters is dedication.
Ondulates, birds of too many words, just like a few people.
Nothing vanishes into identity.
Good point lost, west point taken.
All old in the beginning -
Meaningless? - Say it again.
Never mind your mind forever.
PSYCHOMETRY
Puzzle – Maria C. Faverio
Which figure comes next in the following series?
- 24 -
thebohemian7@yahoo.com.au
The Kraxpelax Test Of Intuitive Intelligence (version 1) – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
I am into test construction as a little hobby. This one is perfectly seriously intended, but
may be taken as a poem as well:
The Kraxpelax Test Of Intuitive Intelligence (version 1) or just
KTU1
TIME LIMIT 15 minutes. Using reference (like google) allowed.
1. Complete the dialogue below:
2. What film is referred to in this short
Where do you live? poem:
High up somewhere else. The sleeping man passes by the refuse
What are you thinking about? chute.
Slowly the shutter opens...
A: - The whereabouts of Jesus.
B. - G-d and Sex. A: Psycho
C: - A well used bicycle tyre. B: Traffic (by Jacques Tati)
D: - I have forgotten. C: Deep Throat
E: - A snake hopping around. D: American Psycho
F: - Ham and eggs. E: The Shining
G: - Nothing. F: Insomnia
H: - The farting nightingales of Lust. G: M
I: - The meaning of "meaning".
J: - I've gotta pee.
- 25 -
H: Sleepwalkers A: China
I: Malcolm X B: Oz
J: Pulp Fiction C: Sweden
D: Britain
E: Mordor
3. What kind of person shouts like this: F: Dreamland
G: Italy
Mignonette! H: Massachusetts
Come here immediately, I will give you a I: India
new pistil. J: Ancient Greece
A: The Beginner
B: The Jew 6. Which one of the correspondences
C: The Florist below really strikes Kraxpelax:
D: Dad
E: God A: egg - cosmogony
F: The Serial Killer B: sex - seven
G: The IQ test junkie C: A - Omega
H: The Stand Up Comedian D: Yes - Nope
I: The Politician E: escalation - rabbit
J: The Pimp F: Rome - Germany
G: all - something
H: Jesus - dope
4. What is this about: I: anathema - Brahms
J: Tao - tennis
NIGHT!! The sudden voice:
Tomorrow you will travel to Trelleborg.
7. What person is the dialoge below
referring to:
(Remark: Trelleborg is the southernmost
town of Sweden. It's medium size.)
It dawns outside.
Why?
A: Broiled eggs
The thief sneezed.
B: Mathematics
C: Sweden
D: American TV shows A: Jack the Ripper
E: Paul Nachbar's headache B: Arsène Lupin
F: Elks copulating C: Jesus
G: Pornography D: Mark Twain
H: Religion E: Anyone
I: Seafaring F: Bodhidharma
J: Nothing at all G: Bob
H: Samuel Beckett
I: Kraxpelax
J: Thomas Alva Edison
8. Acoustic enlightenment is like:
5. What country is to be associated with
A: an oxymoron
this exclamation:
B: black snow
C: Blue Ice
Ah, this sadness of the fall! D: visual music
E: sexual love
- 26 -
F: pretended profundity E: mystery
G: a sensual organ F: meaningless
H: nothing else G: humor
I: musical insight H: death
J: shoes and bananas I: time
J: life
9. Who had the dream told about in short 12. How is the smell of snow?
poem below:
A: high
A voice B: striking the austere fatherhood of Noon
in the darkness: C: black
D: exhilarating
"the picture E: nonexistent
hangs askew" F: there
G: confusing
A: St Paul H: meaningless
B: Mike Tyson I: of negligible interest to Al Pacino(?)
C: Ted Bundy J: funny
D: Donald Duck
E: René Descartes 13. Mystic Enlightenment is like:
F: Frodo
G: Sigmund Freud A: Sex without headache
H: Karl Marx B: Disneyland sans Lumière
I: Madonna B: Rabbits without a poonatory
J: Chris Langan C: a summer without a moon
D: mystery
E: faith ohne God
10. How many flashes are there? F: kanaana ne kubaya qubayash
G: Being without Being
A: None H: Spain without Michelangelo
B: googolplex I: text without a rider
C: gamma J: a knock with outside
D: Time
E: It varies
F: Zen 14. What is time about?
G: Three
H: One A: clocks
I: innumerable B: history
J: It depends on nothing C: life
D: nothing
E: It's all about you
F: existence
G: room
H: God
I: futility
J: sex
11. Nonsense is ...what?
A: everything
15. WTF is this test really about?
B: sex
C: abracadabra
D: God A: nothing
B: knowing the obvious
- 27 -
C: having fun A: ham and eggs
D: profound pretension B: the farting nightingales of Lust
E: Oz without Jesus C: an odor of petroleum, prevailing
F: measuring intuitive intelligence thoughout the world
G: making an impression on Laura D: Sexuality, this oldest sunset in the
H: ham and eggs deep of the woods...
G: sexual overcompensation E: Prohibition of announcing another
I: socializing passing by
J: there is no clear answer F: pure joy of ice hockey
G: Death as the proper definiton of Life
H: sex, lies and video tapes
16: Who fears the hornblower? I: the urge to kill time
J: a falling leaf in the autumn...
A: Legolas
B: Napoleon
C: Jesus 19: Complete the dialogue below:
D: Nefertiti
E: Karl C. Griggs But then that.
F: Isaac Newton What?
G: nobody
H: Harold Lloyd A: - Give me a break.
I: the sinner B: - The girl from Ipanema went to
J: Miles Davis Hiroshima.
¨ C: - Nothing happened...
D: - Frankly, ma'am, I don't give a damn.
17. What is the third line of the three line E: - Just whistle.
text below: F: - Of course I am serious.
G: - Will you ever grow up?
How you talk, Felix, What was "this" you H: - Veni, vidi, vici.
said? I: - Nowbody knows the trouble I have.
Which is it now - J: - I make you nervous, then?
A: I must have forgotten my bus ticket!
B: The band will play forever. 20. Which of these pairs constitutes
C: Who is that man, barking under the opposites:
Moon...
D: Let's spend the nignt together. A: Cesar Franck - oblivion
E: I will be back in a single minute. B: sausage - cat
F: Nobody knows where the Iron crosses C: eternity - Chinese Wall
grow. D: bird - necktie
G: Frankly, ma'am, I don't give a damn. E: philosophy - etymology
H: I am liberal about sex. F: wintery lakes - sunnytime blues
I: There are many roads leading out of G: basketball - Boston Tea Party
Rome. H: a helicopter - a coffee-mill on wheels
J: And the rest is somnolence. I: River Phoenix - Charlie Parker
J: barbarian woman - Meryl Streep
18. What is "despite everything"?
Published in current issue of Chiaroscuro, internet journal of VinCI and ISI-S.
Submit by e-mail to
- 28 -
ping@bredband.net
title: KTU1
Copy the the Test text, providing answer at the arrow, NOT as attached file (not accepted
by my Outlook) but in the main mail text body. Speedy response generally to be expected.
Up to now, 21 ppl have taken this test. All scores will be treated strictly confidential.
kraxpelax@msn.com
Test Puzzle – Peter (Krax) Ingestad A Letter Test – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
What's unique with this Association Test? Time limit 15 minutes
"start 1ABB?>
2NUT?
1. mongolian, adminicular 3AEDHG?J>
2. contango, intersubjective 4XX?>
3. solitary, toothpicker 5AEI?>
4. backwardation, sickening 6EM?>
5. altricial, waffles 7SH-?
6. dreadnought, cineast 8WEIRRR?>
7. bulimi, canasta 9CDEEIRRRSV?>
8. paladine, firetrap 10 A G O ? 8 >
9. cop, semiparanoid 11 B P ? >
10. hebephrenic, shoemaker 12 S T U ? Y >
13 L K ? L N >
14 A ? D G L S >
end"
15 A C ? K O
16 B D D U B D I ? A B B D >
kraxpelax@msn.com 17 C O S ? >
18 A D I R I ? >
19 A C ? >
20 ? E I M O R S T U >
- end of test
kraxpelax@msn.com
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Barry Howard published in Integra - Mark Just a heads up to everyone, Barry has had a
Norman couple of his poems accepted by and published
in „Integra‟ the publication of Intertel.
- 29 -
Good ones Barry, congratulations. con in verse written in any style. I competed
against three talented
Mark poets and, to my surprise, won both sides. I
presented my pro
argument in a rondeau and my con argument
in rhymed couplets. My
poems are the following:
Divine Madness - Maria Faverio
Hi, Pro Position:
Basically, I've founded Divine Madness in order For Abby Green: A Rondeau
to offer a haven of
peace to artists who would like to share their
thoughts and their
For Abby Green, whom I have never seen,
art with like-minded souls (in particular
but read about in Sunday's magazine:
tormented artists who show
I hope my winnings help to ease the pain
talent in at least two artistic fields).
caused by the tumor ravaging her brain,
It is not a HIQ society, although all members
though her years number only seventeen.
up to now happen to be
members of at least one HIQ society.
It is doing pretty well, I would say. All When she regrows her hair with satin sheen,
members are very friendly. It is a place where when at the prom her classmates crown her
all people are equal, regardless of their IQ Queen,
or "achievements". We are there for one at home I'll raise a glass of pink champagne
another, not to compete. After what happened for Abby Green.
to Existentia, I decided to send out personal
invitations to interested artists rather than I'll keep my Ford, turn down the limousine
having a public and diamonds whose dimensions are obscene,
website. I think that members might feel more that there may be no more financial strain
comfortable this way. We will also have a from doctors' bills, from health and hope that
publication called Catharsis when there are wane,
enough submissions. but, someday, children turning seventeen
for Abby Green.
I hope some of you will be interested. It's
really a nice group! If you are interested,
please send me your email address (privately)
and I will send you an invitation.
Cheers,
Con Position:
Maria
Unlucky Winner
What now? The numbered balls went, Blip!
Blip! Blip!
International High IQ Society Debate Winner - My ticket slipped through the slot of emcee's
Kay Lindgren lips.
The moment I stood up, my prize to claim,
I am the humble winner of a recent poetic all radios and TVs blared my name.
debate at International
High IQ Society. This was the second such
Like locusts, journalists swarm on my lawn
debate. The subject was:
Winning the Lottery. Four participants were to
argue both pro and
- 30 -
and clamor, though the window shades are
drawn.
Dear Mr Ryan Sloan,
The telephone, once silent as a stone,
rings on, although my number is unknown. Congratulations. Your poem "God Almighty,
watch over
Investment brokers wheedle me to buy. them" won first place in Poetry To View's
How do I know there'll be an ROI? poetry
contest. Your poem is displayed on the home
page.
My e-mail box is getting fat on spam.
For all I know, each offer is a scam.
The Editors
When silver voices ask for charity,
a tidal wave of guilt sweeps over me. http://www.poetrytoview.20m.com/
I wish no worthy cause to be denied.
How can I tell which ones are bona fide?
Before I won the Super Lottery,
my neighbors had no time at all for me.
How suddenly they went from hot to cold 4th Iinternational Contest of the Ludomind
when they found out I won the pot of gold! Society - Albert Frank
Whereas they never came around before,
now there's a constant knocking at my door. Hi all,
My sweetest dream sours like milk in the sun. The 4th international contest of the Ludomind
In truth, I wish that I had never won. Society is online at:
I would spend every cent of my new wealth http://users.skynet.be/albert.frank/fourth_inte
to buy back what I really lost: myself. rnational_contest3.html
Cheers Albert
Virus, Spam, and Spies oh My! - Dusk Wilson Weaver
To all,
Okay, I'm going for it... I was reluctant to send another non-poetic post quite yet, but it seems there's
a lot of interest in comparing notes on what has worked well (or not) in control of cyber disease and
pests.
Here then are my highest recommendations based upon personal experience, upon high praise by
family and friends who are computer programmers, or upon both:
ANTIVIRUS... The main reason I mentioned TrendMicro's "P-cillin House Call" was that any of our
poets could bop over to their site, scan for free, and know where he/she stands in a matter of an
hour or so. But for the finest proactive, preventative setup I know, check out Eset's incredible blend
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of thoroughness and very high speed on their award-lavished product NOD32 www.nod32.com . Since
May 1998, the NOD32 Antivirus System has been the only product in the world that has not missed a
single "In the Wild" virus in the rigorous testing conducted by the antivirus 'bible', the Virus Bulletin,
and it has consistently done so at disc scan speeds up to 53 times faster than big name products.
Fellow bards take note: this combo of accuracy and speed can really matter when you're pacing about,
twiddling your thumbs, and just itching to post that latest poem at PGS. And you can download a free
trial version of NOD32.
FIREWALL... For a free and effective firewall, visit www.zonealarm.com
BUGSPRAY... For a free and effective snare of spybots and related invaders, visit www.lavasoft.nu for
Ad-Aware 6.0
UPDATES... This is the most important aspect of all, friends. The very best program out there avails
you little if the latest batch of viruses has been cooked up in the time since your last refresher,
because virus writers continually concoct newer and bluer Meenies in an ongoing battle of wits with
the antiviral techies of Pepperland. In case anyone doesn't know how all this works, you buy a
"subscription" to an antivirus program, then most often, you must be contientious and pick up your
free updates over the duration of the subscription. So, because it's already paid for, frequent updating
is doubly advantageous.
FORT DUSK... You may or may not wish to use this idea, but two years ago I had my server start
disabling ALL attachments before my email is delivered, meaning that I can still read who-sent-what-
and-when concerning attachments, and I see the little symbol alongside the messages just like before,
but I simply cannot open an attachment, even should I have a careless moment and double-click one
of those symbols.
This is a dramatic step, I know, but keep in mind that your correspondents can always send
documents, photos, etc. within the text body of your emails without having to use an attachment, and
any inconvenience thus encountered is repaid 10,000 times over the very first time you avoid the
catastrophe of a debilitating virus. By way of example, I might have been royally zapped a few days
ago had I been able to open the bogus email that arrived with one of your names on it, because I'd
written that person a direct note and I immediately mistook the dangerous forgery as an authentic
response. In that case, I'd have been wholly reliant on good, updated antivirus software to save me
from my own incorrect assumptions. Whew!
Please don't ever let yourself get so zapped by a virus, as I did years ago, that you must strip your
hard drive blank, then rebuild the whole thing from scratch. I'm grateful I CAN do this, but it's a skill I
don't care to practice. And the only connection the whole process has to poetry that I can think of is
its being an epic tragedy. : - ))
Dusk
How to Publish Your Own Chapbook – Workshop – Gina Page
This is probably not what you had in mind for publishing your work.
Still, it's an interesting alternative! Gina.
HOW TO PUBLISH YOUR OWN CHAPBOOK
-workshop with Mona Fertig-
at (m)Öthêr Tøñgué Press• on Salt Spring Island- B.C.
DATES: April 17th Sat. 10-5 pm
or May 8th Sat. 10-5 pm
COST: $100.
CLASS LIMIT: 5
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Bring a lunch. Coffee & Tea provided.
Bring notebook, pen and your manuscript, or an idea for your chapbook.
An intense information-filled workshop for the experienced or budding writer, the family storyteller,
the poet, or anyone else who else who wants to self-publish a small edition of their own chapbook for
family, friends, or the world. A chapbook is under 48 pages. Many samples of chapbooks available.
Topics covered will include,
Contents: (type of ms, number of pages, table of contents,
acknowledgements, editing, typing),
Design: ( Layout of text, shape of book, fonts, endpages, paper, creating a mock-up,
cover, paste-up, Xeroxing, handwritten vs typewritten),
Edition: ( number of copies, press name, signing and numbering,
stapling vs handsewn, ISBN, copyright, printing shops)
Images: ( Colour or B Xerox, computer printing, tipped-in photos,
prints, plastic covers, laminating, hand-colouring),
Pricing & Publicity: ( production costs, book price, launch, book reviews,
website, selling vs giving it to friends and family)
MONA FERTIG has been writing and publishing since she was in high school. She published her first
poetry chapbook when she was 18. "The Elusive Unicorn" was a limited edition of 100, illustrated by
Mona and letterpress printed at Workman's Compensation in 1972. Since then she has published
many chapbooks of her own work, (including "Mango Woman") plus eleven books of poetry, one
anthology and a international literary periodical. Her most recent book of prose poetry is "Sex, Death
& Travel"-Oolichan Books. She runs (m)Öthêr Tøñgué Press•, a private literary letterpress press, with
her husband Peter Haase, where she designs and constructs books. (m)Öthêr Tøñgué Press• has
published over 20 chapbooks of poetry, broadsides & book art by some of the best poets in Canada.
"The New World and Finding It" by Robert Kroetsch, won the bp nichol chapbook award in 2001. She
is a founding member of the BC Book Awards Committee, sits on the national council of the Writers'
Union of Canada and started the Literary Storefront in 1978, the first literary center in Canada. She
co-ordinates Salt Spring Writers' & Friends and is completing her first novel and a new ms of poems.
Open Letter-spring issue-features an in-depth interview about their press. Visit their website:
www.mothertonguepress.com
FOR MORE INFORMATION:
info@mothertonguepress.com
or (250) 537-4155 (afternoons)
TO REGISTER:
Mail cheque to:
(m)Öthêr Tøñgué Press•
290 Fulford-Ganges Rd.
Salt Spring Island V8K 2K6
Creativity and the Religious Science Practitioner by Greg Grove Psy.D. - Mark Norman
Greg has supplied his dissertation, Creativity and the Religious Science Practitioner. I am supplying a
link to it in this email, a link on the member‟s links page, and in the next issue of Apotheosis.
http://poeticgenius.com/assets/PsyD%20Dissertation.doc
I am in the middle of reading it and it is quite interesting.
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Mark
back to top
Spoken Poetry Page Addition by Hernan Chang M.D. - Mark Norman
I am pleased to announce the addition of another poem to the spoken poetry page by Hernan Chang
M.D. The title of the poem is Ansio which means I wish..,, it is read and written in Spanish. It is a
beautiful poem. When you get a change kick back, turn the speakers up and enjoy its fluidity.
Thanks,
Mark
back to top
Hello Members,
I want to touch bases with everyone quickly as far as a required age for membership is concerned.
I'm going to handle this on an individual basis. My discussions with Irene have shown me a thirteen-
year-old girl with maturity, and intelligence beyond her years, also a talent for poetry. She has shared
information I have sent her about the society with her parents.
After reviewing our posts, I found nothing inappropriate for a young lady such as Irene. I believe the
society can offer her advantages she would not find in other places, concerning poetry and life.
However, we should bear in mind the audience when we post extremely risqué material. If ever in
question, please just drop me an email.
If anyone feels restricted or feels a lot of their work involves adult themes unsuitable to share with
everyone (of which I haven't seen yet) , please let me know. It would take a minimal amount of time
to open an adult-only themed branch of PGS yahoo.
Thanks,
Mark
NEW
MEMBERS
Name: Kathleen Cesaro
User Email – katie@seeingtheusa.us
Qualifying Score/Test – ACT
Poetry – Published in BEACHCOMBER and poetry.com
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Biography – I am a 57-year-old female who writes for pleasure only. I tried my hand at poetry in
school, where a poem I wrote won an Honorable Mention in an Honor Society contest. I would like to
increase my exposure to intelligent, creative writing...
Welcome Katie
Name: - David Ellis
User Email – dellis@brown.edu
Qualifying Score/Test – WAIS
Poetry – "Darkness Alone" Poetry.com
Biography – Born August 6, 1984. Diagnosed with brain tumor in 2001. Throughout treatment, has
written poetry reflecting on his cancer and related experiences. Currently attending Brown University,
studying linguistics. Fluent in Finnish; has studied many other languages, including (without
limitation) French, German, Sanskrit, Japanese and Hungarian. IQ score is from neuropsychological
evaluation, related to brain tumor treatment.
Welcome David
Name: Hernan R. Chang, M.D.
User Email – hrc8@hotmail.com
Qualifying Score/Test – WAIS-III, Raven's APM II, Genius Association Test
Poetry – Writing poetry and songs since age 10 years old. Start to publish production just recently.
"We are Just One", appeared in Chiaroscuro (page 21) Jan 2, 2004: "The Echo of the Silence",
appeared in OATH, the Journal of the One-in-a-Thousand Society, page 16, Feb 2004:
Biography – I am a physician and a scientist specializing in Infectious Diseases. I have traveled
extensively and worked in Europe and Asia. I have founded a new high IQ society aiming to bring
together scientists at the 99.5 percentile of intelligence (www.geniusociety.com).
Welcome Hernan
Name: Peter (Krax) Ingestad
User Email - kraxpelax@msn.com
Qualifying Score/Test – Paul Cooijnan's Genius Association Test
Poetry – I have published some 30-40 poems in various Swedish literary magazines and antologies of
full élite class.
Journal: Horisont 1984 - 5 poems
Journal: Vår Lösen 1985 - 5 poems
Book: Grupp 84 antology (book) Publisher Wahlström & Widstrand - some 15 poems
Book: Antology Vår stund på jorden - 1 poem
Journal: Pequod 1997 2 poems
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Journal: Horisont 2000 1 poem
Journal: Serum 2001 1 lyric short story
Biography – Peter Ingestad, 53, living in Stockholm, Sweden, fil kand (whats English? bachelor?
degree?) after 3 years of University studies in philosophy, pedagogics, economics, former postal
worker, retired (due to chronical depression) since 1994, published som 40 poems in various Swedish
top class literary journals and antologies, member of IHIQS, VinCI, ISI-S, collector of classical music,
interested in history, religion, occultism (astrology, tarot, I Ching), beliver in God and Satan, Catholic,
political inclination: social reactionary, leading the the fairly happy life of a recluse, having had 3 very
short sexually fulfilled relations with 3 all marvellous, all very beautiful, all very intelligent women, all
terminated in love undamaged and perfect harmony, life motto: always learn things new, Tarot Life
Card: The Hanged Man, best IQ test score PC GAT prel norm IQ 153 SD 15 99.98th,
Welcome Krax
Name: Irene Theocharis
User Email – grecian_isis@hotmail.com
Qualifying Score/Test – Multi – Mental Brief
Poetry – Poetry.com
Biography – I am 13 years of age and deeply enjoy writing poetry when the feeling hits me. I believe
poetry is an open window to the soul and reflects on the beliefs and feelings of the poets through their
stages in life. Speaking on my behalf, according to Kierkegaard I can place myself on the ethical stage
in my life in which I see the sorrow and pain before I can truly realize the good.
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