Sorries for Online Training.

c2011Shalako


One of the things that irks me is trying to put a hyperlink in a Blogger post.

In order to try again to learn, I've cooked up another experiment. The basic premise of which, is that you can get anything you want on the internet, using a few simple key search terms, such as, 'standard play writing format.'

The results may be found here.

Sorries for the online training session, but I nailed it on the third try. And I don't know how to test the link in 'preview.'

Thank you!

Wood Carving.

This wood carving or sculpture is located at Centennial Park in Sarnia. I don't know who is doing it, but when I find out I'll add the credit. This is an old tree and there are several animal figures, including a reaccoon, a fish, and an owl. It's hard to say if it's finished or not, as there are still scaffolding pieces around. It will be interesting to see if the artist paints it or simply lets it weather.

A Poem: Mr. Robot

c2011Shalako

This poem originally appeared in 'Twisted Tongue' #16.


I, robot

Don’t have the capacity

To dream about tomorrow

But I never spell a word wrong

Fueled up, brains all loaded

With everything that’s passed

And I have no place to go

I can never die

As long as the batteries last

Here I come

Here I come

Here I come

I have never speculated

As to where I came from

Did I spring from the dust?

Was I created?

I’ve never cared. I’ve never asked.

Simply because it’s easier

In the Good Lord I trust

Here I come

Here I come

Here I come

Cryogenic heart, skin a polished silver

One thing I am glad of

For this I thank my builder

I can never rust.

And in my own self-assumptions;

I place my deepest trust

I, robot; am happy within myself.

Here I come

Here I come

Here I come…


Twisted Tongue #16:

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/twisted-tongue-magazine-issue-16/11780060

http://badpoetsclub.blogspot.com/2011/01/mr-robot.html (Blog link for my original post.)

The Portal

(NASA)


To hold the keys to the kingdom in our hand

Is to doubt one’s very senses,

But it’s real enough

The view through the door, or the portal

Call it what you will

It’s very beautiful, but are you sure you want to go out there?

Beauty often hides danger,

And this is a dangerous pursuit.

To stand here is to confront two choices

We can stick our tail back between our legs

Pack up our things and go home.

Or; we can go out there and see what is real.

And I have this funny feeling that once we do that—

To achieve the culmination of all of our hopes and our dreams,

To live up to our fullest potential, thieves and charlatans that we are—

Is to discover that there is no going back.

Arbres. Artiste Inconnu.

Détail. Aquarelle sur l'enveloppe # 10. Artiste inconnu. (Sérieusement). Collection de l'éditeur.

Detail. Watercolour on #10 envelope. Artist unknown. (Seriously.) Collection the publisher.