Lit blog

This is it, I am starting here a blog. Sounds good, that "Lit blog", like a "little log". Anyway, I am not calling it "SJ's Lit blog", so that everybody is welcome to post here their own Lit blog entries.

When from time to time I post on this forum I am writing mostly, almost exclusively, about the poems. I keep the rest to the minimum, except for indulging myself with stats and trivia. Too bad that the stats on Literotica somehow get spoiled one way or another. There are so many numbers around here, they could have been a lot of fun. Oh, well. Perhaps with a proper interpretation they still could provide some entertainment.

Anyway, with this blog I will have an occasion to write about things not necessarily directly related to poems. It may be relaxing, and it may even dissipate some of the conflicts and missunderstandings around me here, let's say about half (of the percent of them, or one out of two hundred, every small bit helps--instead of me being called by you a nasty epithet 200 times, it will happen only 199 times, great!).

I don't think that I will post here regularly or for a long time, so don't be shy, post here your own entries, keep it alive. Treat it as a Lit diary and a place to reflect on the Lit life; this blog is not meant to be a battle ground.

Senna Jawa

1

i could swear i just read some humour into part of your post SJ. this is an awesome idea! i'm jumping in



Dear Blog,

this morning i watched another thrush bash a snail to death against the stones out the back. BANG! BANG! BANG! i swear i heard the snail screaming its agony. all the while, a vast black ant colony was moving its nest from one side of the fence to the other. big blobs of white kept disappearing through the gap in the wood and upon closer look, i realised the ants were carrying eggs. i haven't jumped the fence to see where they went, yet. it's too hot and humid here for jumping six foot high wooden fences.

then, at work, the staff got out the fire hose and the kids screeched in pure delight as they ran around nearly naked splashing and crashing into each other. the slide became a water way and 11 three and four year olds had an absolute ball (i think the teachers were having great fun too).

now, i'm sitting here with my decaf and a faint breeze sneaking in through the window wondering if i have it in me to write a poem. time will tell.

24 views already? wow, what did you think i was going to write???

*giggling*

wildsweetone said:

24 views already? wow, what did you think i was going to write???

*giggling*

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Don't disappoint us

I am glad that you have found another home here. After reading your entry I realized that you are from "the down under", and indeed, you are from New Zealand (wear jeans if you don't want us, Northerners, to peek down under... ooops, sorry).

Senna Jawa said:

Don't disappoint us

I am glad that you have found another home here. After reading your entry I realized that you are from "the down under", and indeed, you are from New Zealand (wear jeans if you don't want us, Northerners, to peek down under... ooops, sorry).

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jeans? in this weather? you've got to be kidding me. jeans are not for 100% humidity, no matter who is doing the peeking.

anyway, according to the Wizard of Christchurch's NZ map, we are on top of the world and you lot (nthrn hemisphere folks) are actually on the bottom.

Weather perfect here, not for shorts and sprinklers but sweatshirts and scooters.

We headed down a fwe blocks to the local 7-11 for milk and a treat for each kid.

I tried to stay somewhat behind, wanting them to have the adventures I had back home, knowing this is not back home with walk-don't walk signs instead of taking the short cut behind the lumber yard. Mom always told us to cut through, it was not until later that we found out that the old guy who loved along the "long"" way was a "flasher"

Seeing the two of them together coasting down the slight declination in the sidewalk, it choked me up. Always these unplanned moments. Never the camera, thank god.

Rain, off and on. What a surprise.

Had my performance review today. OK for another year or so. Still counting on Lotto to solve my long-term economic problems.

Reading Ted Kooser. He makes me want to walk around and look at animals.

It also rained here. And my husband is in Florida working. I am glad as I dont have to clean up behind him and wait for him to want something. I wrote today and yesterday and had a dream about there being monsters in Mayberry. I dont know what that means, but they were sniffing my fingers and thats from an annaswirls poem.

Ihave a stomach ache from not eating and I need a coca cola. Thats about it, except I dont have cable and there is nothing on the tele and Im bored senseless. I miss my job. and the thought of being upside down in the universe is rather intriguing. I have to think about what that means, but then upsidedown is relative to your POV, right?

WSO, do you have fire ants down there? I hope not

I have changed my mind. Or perhaps it was always way. At least in this moment: I do want to know who you are or who you were when I thought I knew you.
What is in a name is Shakespeare writing lines for teenagers in love. I am neither.

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Perhaps this may be true. I will give the truth, the names, and I will give you a new name, a new sign, a new set of teeth but let me know you.

I guess I lied to someone, because it matters.
It matters who you are.


Remember that time we were playing Cops and Drug Dealers? And I had to figure out who the dealer was? We were at Kelly's house and her parents were there and no alcohol to be had so we played drinking games with coffee, sick off our guts and hyper tired delerium and the game was fun, trying to catch the deals being made, trying to catch the wink of my brother to my best friend but no, I did not see it. And it was fun and laughs all around the table

until everyone knew. And they began to taunt, in unison "I know who the dealer is, I know who the dealer is" and they all joined in, this cressendo of the accumulating "US" as my tribe left me one by one to the other side of the secret. I guess that was when I stopped being a good sport.

So it mattered. And that was when I left. Joke is over and suddenly it mattered.

I cannot believe you dreamed one of my poems.

Do you know that is all that really matters?

I see your poems in my neighbors yards all the time.

And I cannot believe you are wiring poems about string theory but of course I can believe it my science geek partner. I want to wrap my mind around those dimensions, we can just keep inventing new ones until it all makes sense.

How many have you sewn together so far? Are the numbers coming out right?

There is something about Kudzu that makes me feel like an alien. I do not live with Kudzu and I know it must be important as I see it all the time wrapped around Southern poetry, but that is your brain, Kudzu, wrapping itself around the dimensions, if anyone can tie it together it is a poet-scientist you well maybe we will need help with the math.

Maria2394 said:

It also rained here. And my husband is in Florida working. I am glad as I dont have to clean up behind him and wait for him to want something. I wrote today and yesterday and had a dream about there being monsters in Mayberry. I dont know what that means, but they were sniffing my fingers and thats from an annaswirls poem.

Ihave a stomach ache from not eating and I need a coca cola. Thats about it, except I dont have cable and there is nothing on the tele and Im bored senseless. I miss my job. and the thought of being upside down in the universe is rather intriguing. I have to think about what that means, but then upsidedown is relative to your POV, right?

WSO, do you have fire ants down there? I hope not

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annaswirls said:

I cannot believe you dreamed one of my poems.

Do you know that is all that really matters?

I see your poems in my neighbors yards all the time.

And I cannot believe you are wiring poems about string theory but of course I can believe it my science geek partner. I want to wrap my mind around those dimensions, we can just keep inventing new ones until it all makes sense.

How many have you sewn together so far? Are the numbers coming out right?

There is something about Kudzu that makes me feel like an alien. I do not live with Kudzu and I know it must be important as I see it all the time wrapped around Southern poetry, but that is your brain, Kudzu, wrapping itself around the dimensions, if anyone can tie it together it is a poet-scientist you well maybe we will need help with the math.

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My Darling!!

Senna Jawa can do the math!!!

Maria2394 said:

My Darling!!

Senna Jawa can do the math!!!

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where is he? goodness this is his blog, step up and help the ladies, we have 13 dimensions of calculations surrounding us!

annaswirls said:

where is he? goodness this is his blog, step up and help the ladies, we have 13 dimensions of calculations surrounding us!

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I wouldnt uderstand the calculations if I had them in my hand, so I cannot explain why this science intrigues me so much. I have seen the Elegant Universe 4 times. Its a marvelous show heres a site that tells you the basics. There can be , in one theory, as many as 26 dimensions. I believe that time is folded, compressed into layers and thats only because I feel trapped in between layers 19 and 44 I cant get out!!


http://www.superstringtheory.com/basics/index.html

Maria2394 said:

I wouldnt uderstand the calculations if I had them in my hand, so I cannot explain why this science intrigues me so much. I have seen the Elegant Universe 4 times. Its a marvelous show heres a site that tells you the basics. There can be , in one theory, as many as 26 dimensions. I believe that time is folded, compressed into layers and thats only because I feel trapped in between layers 19 and 44 I cant get out!!


http://www.superstringtheory.com/basics/index.html

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Maria and Anna, the only field of (the very theoretical) physics in which I did research was Statistical Mechanics (the general Ising models; it was really mathematics). My childhood friend has introduced me to the field, he is one of the elite few specialists in the world in that area, and we worked together for a while. (It was easily my best research; this plus an algebraic theorem by which I solved a problem posed by my friend, and which gave his earlier result its full power). I wish I knew physics but I don't, so sad

Poets should know as much mathematics as possible. Mathematics expands your imagination. Mathematics doesn't care for any bullshit. Computers are like this too (anti-bullshit), but mathematics is highly artistic, it is all about esthetics (as in gymnastics--the strength and the elegance go hand in hand).

Mathematics also gives you major philosophical notions, not like philosophy (philosophy is a field halfway, meaning neither way, between science and religion, hence philosophy does not make any sense).

Consider the question of what does and what does not count in poetry in a major way. Actually, "count" is not a useful word here. You could ask instead for the most fundamental things in poetry, and this would perhaps mean the things which could survive the geographic and historical changes in time and space. Or you could ask what is preserved from the (best) poems when they are skillfully translated.

Thus we could talk about the aspects of the poetry which are preserved (invariant) when the times change when the language changes when the material presentation gets changed.

The other things, those which are not fundamental, or rather "invariant", are very important too, they do count!

It is good to separate them and to understand the laws of the interchange...

I am digressing. My point is that in order to have a feel for invariance it is good to know mathematics or theoretical physics.

Here's an example. For the sake of simplicity, lets assume that sympathy among any two persons either goes in both directions or in none. Now take any six Literoticians. You may wonder if there is a clique of three of them, where they are friendly, each with another. Or, one may wonder about the opposite situation, if there are three people among the six who dislike each other. One would have to know those six people. However, it is always true that either there will be three who like each other (a clique) or three who dislike each other (an anti-clique). More than that, there will be even two different triples like that (sometimes two cliques, in one case one clique and one anti-clique, or still in other cases two anti-clique). You may have any six Literoticians, or any six Frenchmen, or six lesbians, it doesn't matter. Invariance. Or you may have six playful kids who touch or do not touch one another using their hands and feet. They may try as hard as they want all possible configurations, and there always will be three of them who touch each other or three such that no two of them touches each other. The position of hands and feet may change but a triple and even two different triples will always exist.

Regards,

Senna Jawa

I sanded sheet rock mud from seams in the ceiling yesterday; I looked like a ghost when I was done.
I went duck hunting this weekend and didn't get a single duck. My dog loved it though.
I bought a 12 year old port wood finish scotch and drank half of it with some friends. I found myself realizing that superfluous conversations abound when you drink scotch. I loved it though.
I am reading Coyote Blue by Christopher Moore, I was thinking that he reminds me of Tom Robbins.
I have to return to work now that the season is picking back up. The day's are getting longer which always makes me sad. I think I will take three days and go to the mountain next week. The snow is perfect with low temperatures and I cannot resist.
My coffee cup is empty.

this time more like a true blog entry from me

I meant that title but what do I write? You guys go through C-sections or duck hunting. I walk around a small local park and occasionally play ping-pong with a neighbor. Ok, that's it, I am not going to bore you anymore tonight. True bloging (blogging?) is not for me. Unfortunately my speciality is not living but thinking, which indeed is much less interesting of the two.

Senna Jawa said:

I meant that title but what do I write? You guys go through C-sections or duck hunting. I walk around a small local park and occasionally play ping-pong with a neighbor. Ok, that's it, I am not going to bore you anymore tonight. True bloging (blogging?) is not for me. Unfortunately my speciality is not living but thinking, which indeed is much less interesting of the two.

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I think we need to give you a living assignment. It involves sky diving. Or perhaps snow boarding. I think we need Sabina to help out with the details.

This morning I woke up to 13 inches or 34cm of snow. I took a measuretape and stuck in an undisturbed area of snow and, voila, there it was, white fluffy. I took my camera and phtographed it. Then I called my partner and he was digging. I won't dig.

I brought work home and will be wandering the esoteric realms of nec vi, nec clam et nec precario this morning, and whether a permissive user can also be a user as of right. I expect they will buy the arguments.

Since we ran out of cream, I had to make capuccino with milk.

Have a good day all.

annaswirls said:

I think we need to give you a living assignment. It involves sky diving. Or perhaps snow boarding. I think we need Sabina to help out with the details.

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ohhhhhh....skydiving is something I have never tried! we could learn together.

my four year old hacked the parental controls on his veggie tales computer game the very first time I used them

oh god I am in so much trouble
and so proud of him
all at once
but shhhh don't tell
until he has his own kids

annaswirls said:

my four year old hacked the parental controls on his veggie tales computer game the very first time I used them

oh god I am in so much trouble
and so proud of him
all at once
but shhhh don't tell
until he has his own kids

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I taught the new puppy to pick up my laundry and shoes from the night before and put them in one pile in the bathroom. Not bad for four months.

annaswirls said:

my four year old hacked the parental controls on his veggie tales computer game the very first time I used them

oh god I am in so much trouble
and so proud of him
all at once
but shhhh don't tell
until he has his own kids

Click to expand...

my kids were computer literate before I was. When I was in the fourth grade, we studied computers, the best one then, I believe, took up a whole floor of some building and couldnt do what this little presario can do. I remember thinking, wow! how magnificent, but HOW?

when we finally bought a family computer in 2000, my kids used the parental controls against me, I was proud of myself when I realized they had reset the computer clock to circumvent settings I had tried to implement ... hmmm, smart little bugggers, aint they

Totally unrealted blog entry #1

My lady has migraines. Always had, comes and goes, and at the peaks it renders her immobile from the sheer pain of it. She refuses to take any strong painkillers, because she had family who are addicted to similar medication for one reason or the other, and she's terrified to go down the same path. probably wise, as long as she can handle it. But it sucks to see her stretched out passive on the sofa with a frown like a thunderstorm, black shades and a pulsating temple every now and then.

Now... Last few weeks, my own, much less malign version of the same thing, have begun matching her attacks. When her head hurts, so does mine.

I don't know quite what to make of that. If it's some kind of subconscious expression of love, it's a bloody inconvenient one, since I'm less in the mood to pamper her when my own brain is throwing itself at the walls in there.

Liar said:

My lady has migraines. Always had, comes and goes, and at the peaks it renders her immobile from the sheer pain of it. She refuses to take any strong painkillers, because she had family who are addicted to similar medication for one reason or the other, and she's terrified to go down the same path. probably wise, as long as she can handle it. But it sucks to see her stretched out passive on the sofa with a frown like a thunderstorm, black shades and a pulsating temple every now and then.

Now... Last few weeks, my own, much less malign version of the same thing, have begun matching her attacks. When her head hurts, so does mine.

I don't know quite what to make of that. If it's some kind of subconscious expression of love, it's a bloody inconvenient one, since I'm less in the mood to pamper her when my own brain is throwing itself at the walls in there.

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Be worried if you start to menstruate.

Senna Jawa said:

I meant that title but what do I write? You guys go through C-sections or duck hunting. I walk around a small local park and occasionally play ping-pong with a neighbor. Ok, that's it, I am not going to bore you anymore tonight. True bloging (blogging?) is not for me. Unfortunately my speciality is not living but thinking, which indeed is much less interesting of the two.

Click to expand...

okay rogue that's a cop out if ever i heard one. i want to know some things about where you live. i'm not likely to travel to your neck of the woods so please tell... what do you see when you walk out your door? what kind of trees grow where you live? tell me, i'm itching to know.