is a tiny wandering imaginary dinosaur which migrated from AOL in October of 2008.

Thinking Lizard

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Rhodingeedaddee is my node blog. See my other blogs and recent posts.


[6-16-2009 Update Insert: Most of what is in this space is now moot. I found out what I was doing wrong and have reinstated Archives and Labels searches. They do work. However, in certain cases you may prefer Labels to Archives. Example: 1976 Today begins in November of 2006 and concludes in December of 2006, but there are other related posts in other months. Note: Labels only shows 20 posts at a time. There are 21 hubs, making 21 (which is for 1976 Today) an older hub.] ********************************* to my online poems and song lyrics using Archives. Use hubs for finding archival locations but do not link through them. Originally an AOL Journal, where the archive system was nothing like the system here, this blog was migrated from there to here in October of 2008. Today (Memorial/Veteran's Day, May 25, 2009) I discovered a glitch when trying to use a Blogger archive. Now, it may be template-related, but I am unable to return to S M or to the dashboard once I am in the Archives. Therefore, I've decided on this approach: a month-by-month post guide. The sw you see in the codes here stood for Salchert's Weblog when I began it in November of 2006. It later became Sprintedon Hollow. AOL provided what were called entry numbers, but they weren't consistent, and they didn't begin at the first cardinal number. That is why the numbers after "sw" came to be part of a post's code. ************** Here then is the month-by-month post guide: *2006* November: 00001 through 00046 - December: 00047 through 00056 -- *2007* January: 00057 through 00137 - February: 00138 through 00241 - March: 00242 through 00295 - April: 00296 through 00356 - May: 00357 through 00437 - June: 00438 through 00527 - July: 00528 though 00550 - August: 00551 through 00610 - September: 00611 through 00625 - October: 00626 through 00657 - November: 00658 through 00729 - December: 00730 through 00762 -- *2008* January: 00763 through 00791 - February: 00792 through 00826 - March: 00827 through 00849 - April: 00850 through 00872 - May: 00873 through 00907 - June: 00908 through 00931 - July: 00932 through 00955 - August: 00956 through 00993 - September 00994 through 01005 - October: 01006 through 01007 - November: 01008 through 01011 - December: 01012 through 01014 -- *2009* January: 01015 through 01021 - February: 01022 through 01028 - March: 01029 through 01033 - April: 01034 through 01036 - May: 01037 through 01044 - ******************************************************* 1976 Today: 2006/11 and 2006/12 -- Rooted Sky 2007: 2007/01/00063rsc -- Postures 2007: 2007/01/sw00137pc -- Sets: 2007/02/sw00215sgc -- Venturings: 2007/03/00216vc -- The Undulant Trees: 2007/03/00266utc -- This Day's Poem: 2007/03/00267tdpc -- Autobio: 2007/04/sw00316ac -- Fond du Lac: 2007/04/00339fdl -- Justan Tamarind: 2007/05/sw00366jtc -- Prayers in December: 2007/05/sw00393pindc -- June 2007: 2007/06/sw00440junec -- Seminary: 2007/07/sw00533semc -- Scatterings: 2008/08/00958sc ** Song Lyrics: 2008/02/sw00797slc ********** 2009-06-02: Have set S M to show 200 posts per page. Unfortunately, you will need to scroll to nearly the bottom of a page to get to the next older/newer page.


Sunday, May 6, 2007


Justan Tamarind: Book I e7 From his bed, Prince Hugh unties his cape And planes it into the air, watching it drape Itself over the raised arms of a boy. Laughing, he asks, "Son, what is the shape Of your intent? Why would you hide your joy And burning behind a foreign mass? Shine on us with force. Do not be coy. That cloth is not a cloud which will not pass. And we are burned already. Why the grass Has curled from you for more than half an hour. Look at us. Let every dainty flower Wilt. Look at us. We need, we need more sun." Nearby, some voices ripple, like a shower When it is winded into waves which run In easy lashes on a roof; and Hugh Moves back to sit among the princes, one Who by his smiles lets each good mood come through. "Oro, Justan's angel, what shall I do?" "Sweet angel of the fiery prince, since Love Creates the hands that then may make the glove And fleshes His own Son to lift a cross, Direct yourself to Him, within, above. As His Son says: In Him there is no loss, And his bright Spirit will receive your own, As He does sinners--as gold; not as dross. Such commerce which by that, Kai, will be flown Between your spheres, you never could have known." "Yet, Oro, my commanded mortal speaks As one with paradox between his cheeks, Crying against the sun, while wishing more. Even I am baffled by what he seeks. Their Mezdras thinks him wise: a likely sore. Or could it be the heat has withered here A man with roots too immature to store The food he really needs to still appear At his known best, after a dry year?" "For him, it seems, the year has not been dry, But wet. I think their games with reason, Kai, Still spin your spirit off its meted line. Your intuition flutters far too high. Their thoughts are more like milk than scotch or wine. They are nothing that should intoxicate An angel. Look at Justan's mighty spine: How it curves forward, and he is great Among men. Should we be bent so by fate?" Brian A. J. Salchert

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