a poem – The universe is a sieve

JUST IN CASE YOU’RE WONDERING, I didn’t know it was world poetry day before I wrote this today.

 

 

The universe
is a sieve
that passes through us

and laughs as it
rushes through.

Pew pew pew
say the particles;
we’re on our way
to connect your kidneys

to a star
an ecosystem
an ice volcano.

It’s one long string
connected
folded tight
blown up
and travelling light.

The universe is a sieve

got some errands run

Many thanks to Jeff for being able to deliver biscotti and pick up Burritos yesterday. There was also a bong.

edit:

Jeff mentioned to me I might like to tell the story of how we ended up with a new bong.

Wellllll, it was like this. Around 5 in the ‘day before yesterday’ morning I’m thinking this bong is disgusting, so I cleaned it out in the downstairs sink. I cheated though; all I did was give it a sloosh and change the water and ungunk the bowl, but I didn’t do the deep clean, which involves rock salt and 99% alcohol. I go back upstairs after I practice for a while.

Jeff comes downstairs approximately two hours later. Jeff was watching a wombat come out of its cave on TV and Buster woke up in his lap, saw the eyes of the wombat (which were about the size of a cave bear’s) and HE BOOKED IT LIKE THE NINE WERE AFTER HIM. Nearly rendered Jeff scrotally challenged, but managed not to injure Jeff. However, the bong did not survive. It’s tempered glass, it broke in big pieces, it wasn’t hard to police up.

As you may know, bong water is the most disgusting crap on the planet and if you spill it the stench is lingering and disgusting, especially on an heirloom rug (Granny’s living room)…. but it wasn’t bong water, because I just changed it, so it was water. We put down towels, scattered desiccant packs, and thanked our lucky stars, and went out and got another one. I put felt pucks on the bottom of it so it doesn’t hurt the coffee table.

Honestly, I feel like the champeen of the world…. my luck is never this good.

various

I have figured out how the rest of this chapter is going to go, but I’m taking a break. Poor Slider, holding the balance in their hands!

Right foot arch hurts so much that standing, walking, are terrible. I wore non arch support shoes for one day of running around and look what it got me, I’m gimped up fierce mama.

Biscotti is in the oven for the second bake; first bake items are sitting around looming like in the kitchen. First batch will be off to the Lunders hopefully today.

Kaossilator notes: S.60 300 bpm ga10  RG1 c´   Describe triangles in the upper half of the playing board very deliberately. Result is called ” Approaching the Derelict Slowly from An Abundance of Caution “

current total

29K words. I think it was down around 18K last time I checked in, but just so you know I’m writing like a mad fool. It’s not quite to graphomania states but right up there, a thousand words a day (graphomania for me is more than 2500 words more than four days running.)

It’s all dialogue, infodumps and emotions including an extremely truncated and not graphic sex scene.

takes 15 seconds to log in to this site

It’s really quite irritating.

Anyway, thanks to a strange Forcemeld, Paul was actually HERE yesterday to watch with us when SN10 stuck the landing (and caught fire, but the mission was a complete success). I am not a fan of Elon Musk, but that was nifty.

r/pics - Keanu Reeves wearing a skirt in the 80s.

Is there anything Keanu Reeves can’t/couldn’t do.

Best Roommate in the World is now 24K words, I’ve been sending updates to mOm every day.

Possibly the best science of the day. When that link is gone, check here. When I’m talking to my pOp I always assume that he wants to get off the phone way, way way way earlier than me. When I’m talking to my mOm we generally talk until one of us needs the bathroom. what a life…

 

Dandelions dreaming

 

The international symbol of filking (well, Kathy Mar’s, lol) is the dandelion. I wrote this after John died, so it is in part in remembrance of him.

Blow you winter winds
blow where you please
hang your icy bunting
on the barren trees
decorate the windows
with capricious lace
send your storm clouds flying
cross the lunar face

Dandelions dreaming
underneath their banks of snow
Soon they will be blooming
Soon enough the seeds will blow

Blow you winter winds
gales and chills
howl around the hollows
echo through the hills
Bringing snow and fog
bringing ice and rain
A moment of the sun
then all is dark again.

Blow you winter winds
blow where you will
Now my spirit feels
oh so small and still
Soon we’ll close the door
on your bleak refrain
For we will rejoice
and we will sing again

Blow you winter winds
mark my skin
Soon I will be warm
with my loves and kin
Two foot and four foot
All will be within
There’s a roaring fire
at the Dandelion Inn

Dandelions dreaming
underneath their banks of snow
Soon they will be blooming
and soon enough the seeds will blow

a possible tombstone

AW, RIGHT I actually am being fried (CREMATED) for my deathday, so nope, but here ya go anyway.

TOMBSTONE: POET, PHILOSOPHER & FAILURE

Jeff took me to Micky D’s this morning; ahhhhh coffee.

Now on deathwatch for Prince Phillip.

Happy belated birthday Tammy!

Letter off to Dave D this morning.

Lots more work on Bih-bah. Doot errungk! = no problem (literally: no blockage)

early catbus design – a Scythian king’s armrest.

nekobus! :) | Studio ghibli tattoo, Cat bus totoro, Totoro art

 

 

Good morning mOm

Check out the masks that Jan made with your fabric that I sent her!!!

VERY SOGGY and abbreviated walk at Oakalla yesterday. Brought Paul back here for Ciabatta/pulled pork and tea.  The snow was all slush. No otters. Towhees though.

Paul wanted to make sure that you knew mOm, that we were walking out of the park, and talking about you, and just as we did so a pterodactyl (Dryocopus pileatus) called to my right, and its mate called from the other side of the woods, to Paul’s left. We both burst out laughing at the idea that you and p0p got represented for our walk… and as I say, Paul was adamant that I advise you.

Coming up to a romantic and emotional writing session but I’ve been working on it for about a week now in the background (thinkita thinkita). I am trying to write it without using ‘love’ or ownership words which is going to be brutally hard, but I hope to manage.

Radam Ridwan’s message on instagram this morning about beach bodies and fatphobia GIVETH ME LIFE. I love them so.

Learned this morning that a NYC police officer assaulted one of the Capitol police on Jan 6. You know that what we’re looking at is a civil war; it hasn’t been declared, but there are 500K in the ground already.

This starfish, snapped by @figureoutthesea on Insta, appears to be saying ‘fuck you!’ to the juvenile glaucous winged gull.

not much to report

Bih-bah project continues. Advent calendar of Christmas carol parodies continues (the time to work on Christmas stuff is February – I will post them during Advent this year, and some of them are quite funny, so I hope you enjoy them – I did We Three Kings and I saw Three Ships this morning.) I have written about 350 words on Best Roommate since last report. I am working on a song with no name, but it’s about Vancouver, and the land ack is built into it, so I’m happy with it, also it’s on the ukelele and I hadn’t composed anything on the uke in ages, so that was good. I’m particularly liking the accompaniment, it’s not exactly unique but it’s distinctive.
I am possibly working on some more kidney grit, so no black tea for me for a while, and I should probbly lay off the almonds, but that frenz is la super hard to do when your buddy heaves two kilos of organic Australian almonds (plump, unblemished, like a lifestyle ad) onto your front steps thank you TOM!
KAOSSILATOR NOTES GAte 49, S61, 90 bpm, turn the volume up all the way, 5ths, C_; hold left thumb in bottom left corner until the gate arpeggiator drops tick tick tick percussion like noises into the mix and then slide your right index finger slowly back and forth along the bottom. Occasionally deke upwards for an other worldly yipping noise. At the end let go for the fade. Gives a very atmospheric creeping through a darkened building/alley/tunnel feel.

Waiting for a CT scan to find out if I really do have brain damage and how bad it is…. YUMMY. Not recommended.

“G-d made me trans for the same reason he made grapes but not wine and wheat but not bread. So that man may participate in the act of creation” -some wise Jewish trans person whose name I don’t remember – @zfreinstatler on twitter this morning

she’s on that poetry thing again – The people they chose

the endearing fascist is everywhere

o,O

the words are a smear of nice, a pretend of nice, a klieg light of nice that burns everything
that’s good and makes it nice, nice, nice
everything orderly

this is a map and these are the lines
and inside these lines we are nice

and I with disrumption have come
have come, and ev-e-ry niceness is glum, was glum.
Tripulations and farkakte derivations of bad things
are apiece with nice,
bakelite
worked
into
one of van Meegeren’s canvases

hanging in a steady machine tic of nice
nice
nice

(THIS IS A CULTURAL TREASURE)

but if you test it, it is not

so apt is my example

Nice is a mill that grinds little Black girls into powder
or tries, and fails to succeed in a vale of Death
just so she doesn’t forget what she’s up against
Nice is the good white girl with almost perfect teeth
who has Done Something Nice
in a perfectly recursive way,
at this point it hardly matters what ; those
people on the receiving end of nice
normally do not get
an opinion

Nice is the nun
educating Cree boys

into a nicer understanding
of their true place in the real world

It’s not for me to say which way is nicer
I already know and you don’t much care, being at the end of the poem

but as for me and the tirelessly nice and
clueless gallery of my colonial foremothers
whom I am pressed to carry now that I have grandchildren
I will choose the lands, and the people they chose
and stay out of your very nice heaven

Spoke to Mike

The letter to Barry is stamped, but I hope to accompany it with at least four more letters, I’m quite behind after my weeks of inertia. Mary, gAlex, mOm and pOp are all in the queue. I like looking at a spray of fifty stamps on the kitchen wall, and every time I send a letter, it erodes away, showing that pandemic or no, I can brighten someone’s day with a few scraps of paper. hope Barry likes his, it’s almost 1500 words long, lol.

Mike is not great, but who the hell is. He gets to prepare the orientation and training documents for the people that he’s going to be training to replace him, isn’t life nommy. Learned from him that there is a global shortage of breakers? weird.

I wrote 700 words in the UPSUN universe to day on one project and I’m still having fun with the conlang – poor Dave, bent his ear off with it the other day.

I am not doing all that great, but as long as I’m writing contentment is in arm’s reach.

Tammy’s in town

Off to have a social distanced visit with her this morning.

Two letters in the mail yesterday; one to Tom, one to Alex.

Managed to shake off my blues long enough to go get some food and reserved library books yesterday (Jeff gave me a lift). The sun being out did not hurt.

Time Team episode was ‘Hadrian’s Well’ which I like because experimental archaeology is always a favourite with me. (They reproduced a Roman waterworks in Roman Britain.)

Work on UPSUN and the destiel fanfic has ground to a halt. I have posted songs to the end of February and well into March (with scatterings later in the year).

mOm will be happy to hear that I FINALLY HAVE AN APPT with my doc, since the neurologist finally read the EEG this week, I don’t even have to wait that long.

Caspell Junction (new name for Planet Bachelor) remains quiet on the news front. Don’t know what new school rules for the pandemic will do. Hope Alex likes his letters.