Tuesday, March 28, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:3/28/17

Open To Interpretation
Future, Past
"How to manage this?"
Asked Ishmael.
Nemo's caravan looked on
From their encampment
On the overlook.
"Oh," said Nemo,
"It will be a cattle drive of sorts
To get them from
Here to there."
"Not likely they'll leave off
Their preoccupation,
Said Ishmael.
"Just so," said Nemo,
"But for that we have this..."
Nemo retrieved from
A quadruped's pack
A golden lyre.
"Orpheus' lyre!" said Petra.
"A facsimile," said Nemo,
"One of many I've manufactured
To Hephaestus' design."
"The Black Dragons hate them."
Said Petra.
"Oh, I've deleted those
Entrapping tunes."
Said Nemo,
"Though Black Dragons have yet to be
In this Realm's Time,
But soon that will change
If all goes well."
"How so?" asked Ishmael.
"From the cataclysm,"
Said Nemo,
"This Realm has lost too many,
And more following on
In the ruins will fall.
Some we can rescue
From the ones beyond hope
Of escaping extinction."
Nemo pointed to the
Nearby bipeds and quadrupeds
Of giant size, and those
In the distance
Foraging at the snow fields.
"I've made a deal with another
Realm, a Realm too crowded
With Black Dragons."
"A trade." said Petra, smiling.
"Just so," said Nemo,
"And I thought you all
Would like to meet the two envoys
I'm dealing with..." 
And Nemo pointed up
To two Black Dragons
Descending from the grey clouds.
Petra's and Nemo's crews
Stepped back to make room.
The Dragons once landed
Were seen to be enormous,
Much larger than the Black Dragons
Of their acquaintanceship.
Petra looked up,
Standing arms akimbo,
Called out,
"What are your names?"
One Dragon lowered his head,
Nuzzling close to Petra,
"I am Onyx of the
Northern Reach."
Said Onyx.
Eyes wide,
Petra turned to the second Dragon
Now closely examining her too.
"And you?" Petra asked.
"I am Ametrine of
The Southern Reach."
Said Ametrine,
"And I hear tell,
Little one,
You are to be our Queen."
Petra was taken aback
To see the Future, Past.
And the two Black Dragons
Stretched their wings,
Roared with fire and smoke.
"Black Dragons never fall!"
Said Onyx and Ametrine.
Notes: By some serendipity, browsing Lost World movies on youtube, I happened on the origin of my "Dragons returning to Earth to lay their eggs, like sea turtles."notion...hmmph....the old scary movie, The Giant Claw1957....I haven't seen this movie since seeing it in the theater, sitting beside my friend who was peeking through his fingers...that passed...it is maybe the funniest looking movie monster in a monster movie ever...but it was scary to us then, and the retelling of all its misdeeds a delight for days...Claw, of course, is from outer space, shielded by an anti matter shield (lifted in the Independence Day tales), and has come to Earth to lay an egg, and raise general havoc...it is a marvel these old monster movies ever got made...LostWorld1925, another marvel...and I find myself taken with the actress, Bessie Love...on ebay, there's a Twistum Toy dinosaur for seventy five dollars, and I found that seeing a promo photo of Bessie playing with one...funds replenish tomorrow, the fourth Wednesday, so a maybe purchase!...LostWorld1925 has a cameo scene with Arthur Conan Doyle...very cool...I find watching silent films curious for their slowness...much time for the audience to fill in with their imaginations...the fifties' monster movies have some of this too...watched an animated 'Lost World' movie, Fire and Ice1983, (background art held my attention...learned some is by Kinkaid!) and that on Robert Frost's birthday, and missed the reference to Frost's poem, Fire and Ice...looking up Frost, I found myself reading his poem, The Witch of Coos, which looks a precursor of Lovecraft's Dunwich Horror!...though time was, I gather, attics were often occupied by family members gone in the head and such!...oh, and that day, I went over to the Park...wanted much to see the old Electric Parade...I watched it like every work night during firework downtime for the seven years thereabout!...maybe not that much, I used to get roped into playing chess, poker, ping pong and what not...on entering the Park, I entered a new store right there on the right of the right tunnel, the little gallery selling Disney art, with work stations set up for artists, kind of like the old draw your portrait ones in New Orleans, which still may be there...too late for the artists to be about, but I lost myself in thinking about how cool a job that must be...while looking at the art for sale, I heard the strains of the Parade, stepped outside, and the big base drum was passing by...right on que...a very compact sequence of moments!...

Sunday, March 26, 2017

OTI:three poems:3/26/17

Open To Interpretation
I Took The Same Route
I took the same route
As two weeks before
So knew the way
And arrived at the seven story
Car 'hotel',
Took the dispensed ticket,
Watched the gate arm,
And careful not to slide
On the smooth cement,
Parked Silver my jeep,
And again stepped out
From the car cavern's sounds
Onto the sidewalk
Across from 448 S. Main,
The Regent's marquee,
Shiny Toy Guns
With time for a walkabout
In LA's un-notable,
NY compared,
Though here noted,
The sun setting,
Shadows big,
The always waterfall roar
Of traffic echoing surrounding.
Under The Snowy Field
Under the snow field
All the landscape's
Fauna and flora
Had been frozen,
Stopped in life sudden
When The Earth's Sun,
Grim clouds forgotten
From the cataclysm,
Permitted the Great Cold.
And now from rains fallen,
Days and days,
The refugees living
Found forage at the edge
Of the retreating snow.
Nemo's caravan paused
On the crown of an overlook.
Seen stretched in either direction,
Horizon to horizon,
Were all the gathered survivors
Of the Southern Reach
Worrying the frozen snows
For tidbits of nourishments
Melting free under the dark rains.
The Last Bookstore
Time was a used bookstore
Was irresistible
And its window scene gives pause,
Moon and Half Dome
On AA's photo books displayed.
Sufficient now my
Palm carried window
With ever changing display
And I walk on,
Taking LA tourist photos.
Happy Birthday Robert Frost!

Thursday, March 23, 2017

OTI:three poems and notes:3/23/17

Open To Interpretation
Rex and Tops
Quixote was perched atop
Beside him,
Sancho sat his saddle
On Tops.
Jesus is a Temperature
Some potion it is
Until another potion
Comes along called
And we are made
To inventory every touch
Every color
Every sound
Like a long restaurant menu
In foreign words
Painful to read aloud,
Our stomachs being now all ears.
"Hey 98.6,
It's good to have you back again."

After three years
Of the grim clouds
The stars were out,
And the high distant peak
Of Volcano Never out gassing,
Throwing out rocks, debris,
Red and orange lava,
In billowing black clouds.
By the light of the full moon,
The Nautilus' crew
Offloaded supplies and gear
On the long narrow dock
Where Nemo's caravan
Was assembling.
Two sanguine figures
Waited astride their mounts
Where the dock met the shore.
"Quixote!" Petra said in greeting.
Quixote saluted back
From his saddle astride
The biped's neck.
Petra gave the biped's
Great clawed feet a wary distance.
Beside Quixote was Sancho
Astride his quadruped
Saddled behind the bony
Shield flare and its horns.
"Sancho!" said Petra.
Sancho saluted.
Petra grew bold
And put her hand to
The bipeds leg joint,
Feeling the feathers' softness.
The biped lowered its toothy head
To see her,
Quixote keeping his balance.
"Can you talk?" Petra asked the biped.
She reached and touched its
Lowered cheek, Quixote holding on.
"Oh!" Petra said in surprise,
And knew in a moment
All the biped was knowing and feeling.
"Two become one!"
She said to Quixote.
"Just so." said Quixote
"He's hungry." Petra said.
"They're all hungry." said Quixote.
Notes:  Rex and Tops...Lost World dinosaurs, Tyrannosaurus Rex, Triceratops...reference the visit to the Natural History Museum...and news story yesterday...
Mr Baron's new family tree has similarities to ideas developed by the biologist Thomas Henry Huxley in 1870. He believed, correctly as it turns out, that birds descended from meat-eating dinosaurs and he included them then with the bird-hipped dinosaurs in a group he named Ornithoscelida, or bird-limbed.
At the time Huxley's ideas were roundly dismissed and eclipsed by Seeley's.
As an acknowledgement of Huxley's contribution, the team has revived the name of Ornithoscelida for his new combined group.
As well as being a remarkable piece of research in itself, the work is a vignette of the scientific process itself - how challenging old, well-established ideas with a fresh eye is always worthwhile and can often bring new insights.

Major shake-up suggests dinosaurs may have 'UK origin'

Friday, March 17, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:3/17/17

Open To Interpretation

Much Fun

Shiny Toy Guns
at the
448 S. Main, Lost Angeles
March 16, 2017:
Much fun...

Notes: report of the evening for sometime soon...ahhhh ahhh ahhhh ahhh ahhh ahhhhh ahhh!



Saturday, March 4, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:3/4/17

Open To Interpretation


Looking up, I see you there,
Atop your skeletal Tyrannosaurus Rex,
And there beside you,
On his Triceratops.
I need but to flesh things out.
T. Rex's hips
Made for dancing,
Those huge feet and legs
Jumped and twisted
On some ancient stage
They've made in the old movie theater,
Took all the seats out
So everyone can stand on the sloping floor
And have a view.
My legs grew weary,
And the crush was claustrophobic,
Or something made my stomach uncomfortable,
So fled up stairs to the old balcony,
Now a perch, an aerie,
Where we can sit, or even have a pizza and beer,
And watch below the flashing lights and smoke,
Look down on the raptured crowd,
And hear the songs and roars in the black cavern
Comes alive with coral creatures
In IMAX 3-D, Costeau's son's effort
An easier view and leg resting respite
From wandering the history museum's halls where
I found one diorama for a long pause,
A family of Black Bears beside the Merced,
Half Dome in the background.
I know the spot, been there often,
Just a bit down stream from Swinging Bridge
Looking upstream,
A cottonwood shore, black oaks and ponderosa,
The artisans have it fossilized
Perfectly in the museum's stone.


Notes: hmmph...hit the upload too early, and not ready for the noting!...wasn't much ready for the poem, but it will do...much to tell of yesterday's outandabout!...brb...going to get a snack first at Angelos...brb...bk...went to Denny's...MidnightRockAndRoll...I got to the LA Natural History Museum about noon...I haven't been along the 110 freeway in a long time...portions, with the overpasses, are like out of some science fiction world...easy to park at the Museums and Coliseum...and passed the Museum of Science with its IMAX theater on the way to the Natural History Museum...on first entering, there's the T. Rex and the Triceratops...I think it's a T. Rex...went first to the gift shops looking for Ametrine...but no luck...then wandered the Mineral Show, and from there the other hallways...missed the old Egyptian things, and the medieval tapestry in the cafeteria...things have changed, but not much...the diorama halls the same...and outdated in our age of digital media...time was stuffed critters was the only way to view them...now even the dinosaurs are 3-D...saved those halls for last, my favorites...and all that took but two to three hours...and many hours to go still for the Rock and Roll show at the Regent...Shiny Toy Guns...so, found to my relief, the movies in the Science Museum's IMAX theater...around five then about, rolled out to the Regent, which is close by, downtown LA...got lost...got a look at the sprawling campus of USC...then rolled along Main Street, watching the street numbers diminish from like 28 to 5, the Regent is on the 400 block, on the lookout for a public parking garage...turned in one just there, across the street from the Regent, and went up and up, all seven floors looking for a space...most all reserved, but on the way down, reaching the first floor, an attendant helped me out, parking us stacked...he took my key in case Silver needed to be moved...and I arrived!...way early, so had a snack in oriental food place on the corner, and joined the already line...we were like two hours early for the 8:30 show time, and didn't get admitted until like 9, so a long time standing!...which I cant do much...and then inside more standing, waiting for first front band, then more before second band setting up, and again for setting up for STG....after about three songs of STG my legs were giving out, I just cant do that, stand for so long, so gave up my close to stage spot won by being early, and went up stairs, and sat...there's like a little bleacher stand up on the old balcony...I'd seen what I came for, to see STG live, a thrill when they took the stage for everyone...and after hearing from the balcony Le Disko...could only find a space to barely see them...such the dilemma of losing ones hard earned front spot!...and after a bit of an unfamiliar song, I bailed...the long day had taken it's toll, and I feared a longer commotion when the show let out in the parking garage...so retrieved Silver and left the confines of LA...LA was thrown together when things were built close together...my neighborhood, and town, Orange County, was laid out with wider spaces, though of late, land being expensive, the buildings are coming closer together...it's nice, having a big front and back yard...a well thought out notion...anyway, I was of course heartbroken to leave early, to leave my near the stage spot!...I didn't catch the front bands names, but find them web searching, and seeing the youtube post ups of last night's show...this is very nice...fans post up a song or two...the first one was...brb...Chase Atlantic...smiled a bit to see lead singer with ball cap and glasses...no, that's not the look!...though mine...and then there was Kitten...I can't dance...and twice she hopped off the stage, once to rouse some dancing, and again mosh pit style, our arms outstretched...ready to do my bit in the our arms will carry you part, but retreated a bit in the dance part!...gawdawful that would have been!...made room for the kids to surround her...think that was the beginning of my retreat to the balcony!...such the life of fish out of water!...and on reaching home I thought, that's it...enough of rock and roll...I saw what I went to see...and then, on the web, trying to name the front bands, as I didn't catch their names, I find Kitten's facebook page, with an announcement...a second show added at the Regent...STG and Kitten!...hmmph...got tickets...March 16...I'll take in La Brea Tar Pits, and the MOMA...hmmph...Kitten, Like A Stranger at the Regent Theater 3/3/17 ...a glimpse of me then about at the dancing at the left screen edge...ral...



Thursday, March 2, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:3/2/17

Open To Interpretation


"And you,
Have you left off..."
Dana hesitated
To continue,
You know..?"
Shadows of past times
Passed over Queequig's
Expression, his gaze distant.
"Past is past."
Queequig said,
"Be you Greek?"
He asked Dana.
"A Danaan you think?"
Said Dana.
"Greeks be scary."
Said Queequig.
"They eat indiscreet."
"Oh, tall tales you've heard!"
Said Dana.
"Now we fast!"
Said Queequig,
Hugging Dana,
And they laughed.


Notes: I've seen a couple of the movies, but I haven't read any of Stephen King's books...and I keep bumping into comments and quotes of his about writing in the lookabouts...back in school, I read a lot of commentaries about writing, notably Robert Graves' The Reader Over Your Shoulder...don't know if any of those took...I have my own notions, but 'am open to ideas...brb...well, I cant re-find it...I'll make my own up!..."you take it up, and set it down...as it gives you pause what they'll think...one way or another, you're on your own..."...he has one about knocking off your favorite characters...not his problem...I'm squeemish!..and why haven't I read any of his books?...stylistically, his writing looks much like the writing in how to write magazines, which likely is why he goes on so much about how to write!...there's a kind of market for that...but it's not Melville or Conrad or Durell, or Twain, or Poe...it's news rack news stand paper back books in the airport shop...don't use adverbs, he says, don't use passive voice, he says, ...wtf are those!...oh, I must have taken an identifying grammar test and passed it...how I could get through those, I don't know...but that all dropped away...no one thinks about the minutia of what we say, or how...it is all song from thought to sound, a mocking bird at my window...where was I...oh!...there's Richard Henry Dana Jr. and Sr. and Robert Dana, who was the immigrant from England with the crowd of Puritans that came over from England to America, Boston about for Dana, and in tracking this, I found 'Dana' was a unique last name...in the poem, I wanted to set the cannibalism in Greek mythology beside Queequig's...Bower's Museum locally has an exhibit of weaponry from the jungles of New Guienea, and I can't look at it for long...somewhat like looking at the things early dentists and surgeons used...hmmph...anyway, it's thought Robert/Richard Dana had changed his last name from Dawney to Dana while still in England, and...brb...


Apparently Robert Dana had adopted that spelling of his name only after he had come to Manchester, perhaps to bring it in accord with the way in which the vowels were pronounced in that part of England. For in the north of England, in the Parish of Kendal in Westmorland, where he had been born, he had been christened by the name of Robert Dawney.
With the spelling Dawney or Daunay the name is common enough in Westmorland, in Yorkshire, and elsewhere in England. Indeed we have been able to trace the name Daunay as far back as 1328, in the second year of the reign of Edward III.



Read October 22, 1940

oh, a diversion, I hadn't notice how old that article is, or that it is by a Dana!...brb...oh, H.W.L. is for Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, so H.W.L. Dana...hmmph...I would have liked 'Dawney' to be another spelling of 'Downey' which is a common Irish name, 'belonging to a fort'...and would like it all in package reaching back to the Danaans, or even the Tuatha de Danaans, as there would be a link to the ancient Greeks or ancient Trojans...the arrival of the Tuatha de Danaans is mysterious...


They came from four cities to the north of Ireland–Falias, Gorias, Murias and Finias–where they acquired their magical skills and attributes. According to Lebor Gabála Érenn, they came to Ireland "in dark clouds" and "landed on the mountains of [the] Conmaicne Rein in Connachta; and they brought a darkness over the sun for three days and three nights". According to a later version of the story, they arrived in ships on the coast of the Conmaicne Mara's territory (modern Connemara). They immediately burnt the ships "so that they should not think of retreating to them; and the smoke and the mist that came from the vessels filled the neighboring land and air. Therefore it was conceived that they had arrived in clouds of mist".



oh, let me square away on this!...some legends have it that the Trojans after their defeat, fled in ships, spreading out, Aeneas famously founding Rome, and the more far fetched legends have it they settled in England, Ireland, and just about anywhere and everywhere!...this is such a fine notion!...a defeated people that continues on...the Israeli's diaspora comes to mind, and all the tales of refugees and lost peoples...and the self exiled Puritans came ashore in America...Dana family...almost as a grace note, Richard Henry Dana Jr. comes ashore at Dana Point in California...the most westward journey of the Greeks, one might say...as a people, as a culture...the Puritan immigration reads like the way the old Greeks colonized...America is Greece and Rome...it was a disappointment that Mount Dana, I learned, wasn't named after R.H.D. Jr....but, brb...


James Dwight Dana was born in Utica NY on the 12th of February 1813 He was the eldest of a family of ten children His father James Dana was a native of Massachusetts a direct descendant of Richard Dana the original immigrant and progenitor of the Dana family in New England While the immediate derivation seems to be quite clear to be the English, the origin of this stock is held by many to be Italian, partly because of the nature of the name and partly because of the family of Danas has long been extant in Italy. And especially in scientific professions.

Biographical Memoir of James Dwight Dana, 1813-1895

By Louis Valentine Pirsson
on google books...
Disappointment all gone!...what an admirable family!...Mt. Dana overlooks Tuolumne Meadows and Tioga Pass...
The popular appeal of these relatively specialized reports was remarkable, and when Dana’s observations on coral phenomena were printed as a separate book, Corals and Coral Islands, it passed through three editions in his lifetime. While it might be said that the audience for such a topic was forgathered, the book’s popular success owed much to Dana’s remarkably fine style of writing and, not least perhaps, to the penchant he shared with the preachers and poets for perceiving a design in nature that was flattering to man. Tracing the history of the coral plantation—the shrubs and trees which “stand and wave unhurt in the agitated waters” and are the secretions of the thousands of polyps that “cover the branches, like so many flowers, spreading their tinted petals in the genial sunshine, and quiet seas, but withdrawing when the clouds betoken a storm"—he found that when the polyps die, minute encrusting corals attach themselves to the surface to protect the structure from erosion by the sea until “Finally, the coral becomes subservient to a still higher purpose than the support of polyps and nullipores,” and the debris produced by wave action upon the reef settles into the crevices to produce a solid rocky base that gradually becomes one of “’the sea–girt isles’… the coral polyps now yielding place to the flowers and groves of the land, which fulfill their end in promoting the comfort and happiness of man.”2
Don't know but young J.W. Dana may well have had a sit down discussion with Queequig!...for sometime the tales of his black ships!


Tuesday, February 28, 2017

OTI:five poems and notes:2/28/17

Open To Interpretation


The days come and go
Like moving clouds' shadows
Over the scenes below.
A few to my right
And to my left
I can see,
I know there are more
Besides me.
We take it all in
And contemplate,
Permanent as we are.
Dread the day
When we take wing.


I fell asleep
With my gum
And now it's there
In my tum.

It's Okay

It's okay
To name your rock band
Tame, Timid,
Civilized, Devout,
Virgin, Prude.
I could go on,
As they do,
Announcing who they are
With screams and shouts.
And whose to say
Lullabies are fey?
It's okay.


We all pray sometime,
Buy a lotto ticket
At least one time.
Luck's wisdom can
Sometime finds us,
So we've heard.


"I've need of another author."
Said Nemo,
"If you will, Melville,
Have a seat beside
Our navigator."
Melville sat beside Verne,
With a quizzical look.
Verne looked like a cat
Seeing a mouse.
"And you, Dana,
Stand behind
With close regard,
Triplicate doesn't hurt."
Continued Nemo,
"I've need of your
Editorial prowess.
What presents, shortly,
Before my navigator,
Must be absolutely identical.
When the three of you
See the two shows match perfectly,
Okay, we go.
Some copy error,
And there's no telling
When we'll be.
My navigator knows these ropes,
As ropes they are,
To then and there,
So, list to his advances."
Dana and Melville felt the fools,
Petra smiled, said,
"You two will do."
She turned to Nemo,
"We go see now?"
"Surely," said Nemo
And led Petra's troop
Up to the Nautilus'
Two windows.
And the Nautilus
Left off from Harbor's wharf,
Beneath sleeping Volcano Never,
Into the center of the bay,
And sank
And sank
And sank
One mile
"I see one!"
Said Queequig.
"Just so," said Nemo
"Be ready below!" he called to his crew,
And the Nautilus neared the
Black Rose.
Black Roses float about
In the deepest ocean depths,
Some small, some large,
All of a size to dwarf the Nautilus.
The Nautilus neared
And the Rose
Shimmered brighter its
Bioluminescent colors,
Deep reds greens blues.
Petra sang her ocean tune.
"Hold the railings for the bump!"
Said Nemo.
They availed the railings before
The two great round windows.
"Navigator, with the Match!"
Nemo shouted down.
"Looks good, and you?"
Said Verne to Melville.
Melville studied the Black Hull
Before them,
One Black Rose image
Was beside another,
But were different
Reds greens blues,
And then coincided and superimposed.
"Dana, you see?" said Verne.
"Yes!" said Dana, "the same!"
"We all agree?" said Verne.
"Yes!" said Dana and Melville.
"Match!" Verne called out.
And the Nautilus leaped
Into a petal of the Black Rose,
Knocked Dana to his butt,
And popped out another petal
Of another Black Rose.
And the Nautilus
Went up and up and up,
And surfaced in the bay,
Volcano Never overhead
Smoking and fuming.
Nautilus pulled up to
A long thin dock,
All there was then
Where Harbor's Village
And wharf is now.


Notes: Guardians...hmmph....Gum...for fun...It's Okay...I've got a ticket to Shiny Toy Guns this Friday!...Carah Faye!...at the Regency Theater in LA...it says GA, general admission, no seat number, and is a resale, and a bit in doubt, I looked up youtube for a band performance there that would show the seating...it's free standing like the echoplex!...so, a thought to get there early...make a long day of it and take in some of the museums, I'm thinking...as it happened, the band I happened on just to see the interior of the theater, is a 'grindcore' band...surely, the genre that is giving Pat Robertson, and the President, pause!...rock and roll band names are like race horses' names are like video games' toons names...everyone of those names I just came up with casually off the top of my head, are in fact names of real bands...did the web searches...even 'It's okay'...even, sort of, Lullabies are Fey...searching that, I found the tales of the album "Lullabies From The Axis Of Evil"...


Lullabies from the Axis of Evil (2004) is an album collecting traditional lullabies sung by women from Iraq, Iran, and North Korea ("the axis of evil"), as well as Syria, Libya, and, Cuba ("beyond the axis of evil"), plus Afghanistan and Palestine, mixed with Western performers singing translated versions of the songs.



hmmph...Luck...hmmph...Match...these posts go on as reading back over them the old efforts compel me to continue least they become lost loves but they put me in a box everyday not knowing what to continue to say until I improvise some escape, and so another, as Hemingway might say...oh, I lost the quote...one fellow went on that a writer should never know for sure what they are going to write next, and that's so, I find...it is improvisation, much, somewhat like the Drew Carey wonderful comedy Show...