tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42249791431983138542011-07-30T11:41:36.422-05:00is a tiny wandering imaginary dinosaur which migrated from AOL in October of 2008.brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.comBlogger10511100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-72867544004671311392009-07-28T11:27:00.001-05:002009-07-28T11:27:38.689-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>Interlude</i> For, and beyond, the black holes of our lives, The priests of God talk on, Hawking the universe. <i>February, 1979</i> sm045 post1051 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7286754400467131139?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-17423904239864211482009-07-23T13:19:00.001-05:002009-07-23T13:19:44.670-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Giddyup Giddyup Giddyup Go Let it snow Let it snow Let it snow <i>repeat faster and faster</i> sm044 post1050 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1742390423986421148?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-37996018544613134812009-06-15T08:20:00.001-05:002009-06-15T08:21:28.673-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Now you've gone away from me, bet you'll stay away from me, happier away from me. I'm sure that's fine with you. Now you've gone away from me, bet you'll stay away from me, happier away from me. I'm sure that's fine with you. sm043 post1049 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3799601854461313481?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-44883105359395707222009-06-15T08:15:00.001-05:002009-06-15T08:15:41.815-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> You can be what you see if you flee death in me. Live alone. Live alone. You can be what you see if you flee death in me. Live alone. Live alone. sm042 post1048 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-4488310535939570722?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-37142691165407582962009-06-07T12:32:00.001-05:002009-06-07T12:32:54.433-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Who ate that duck? There won't be a war for a thousand years. Who ate that duck? There won't be a war for a day. Who ate that duck? There won't be a war for a thousand years. Who ate that duck? There won't be a war for a day. Who ate that duck? There won't be a war for a thousand years. Who ate that duck? There won't be a war for a day. Who ate that duck? There won't be a war for a thousand years. Who ate that duck? There won't be a war for a day. sm041 post1047 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3714269116540758296?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-55464782069691497382009-06-06T09:27:00.001-05:002009-06-06T09:29:26.024-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Just like we usta down by the Zuider Zee. Just like we usta down by the Zee. Just like we usta down by the Zuider Zee. Just like we usta down by the Zee. Under the tree down by the sea just you and me under the tree in the glow. Under the tree just you and me just you and me under the tree in the glow. Under the tree just you and me just you and me just you and me in the glow. Just you and me under the tree under the tree under the tree in the glow. sm040 post1046 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5546478206969149738?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-72680051518537866952009-06-05T22:08:00.001-05:002009-06-05T22:09:17.967-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> There goes the rocking chair. There goes the rock - boom boom. There goes the rocking chair. There goes the rock - boom. There goes the rocking chair. There goes the rock - boom boom. There goes the rocking chair. There goes the rock. sm039 post1045 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7268005151853786695?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-8464239154901729822009-05-31T16:22:00.001-05:002009-05-31T16:22:52.550-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> We're on a sleigh ride. We're on a sleigh ride. We're on a sleigh ride. We're on a sleigh. sm038 post1044 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-846423915490172982?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-26699775899805222342009-05-31T16:18:00.001-05:002009-05-31T16:19:06.292-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Who wants a Christmas tree? Who wants a Christmas tree? We already got one. Ho oh ho ho. Who wants a Christmas tree? Who wants a Christmas tree? We already got one. Ho ho ho ho. sm037 post1043 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-2669977589980522234?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-8490805383618788902009-05-31T16:13:00.001-05:002009-05-31T16:14:00.698-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Peanuts here. Peanuts here. Get your roasted peanuts here. Peanuts here. Peanuts here. Get your roasted peanuts here. Peanuts here, peanuts here, we don't want your peanuts here. Peanuts here, peanuts here, we don't want your peanuts. Hear. sm036 post1042 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-849080538361878890?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-33770610593804175772009-05-29T21:30:00.001-05:002009-05-29T21:31:34.347-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> better late than not at all better late than not at all <i>better late than not at all</i> <i>better late than not at all</i> sm035 post1041 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3377061059380417577?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-78172721260665360952009-05-28T20:18:00.000-05:002009-05-28T20:20:41.344-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Ask her. Go ahead and ask her. So that she doesn't get away, ask her tonight. Ask her. Go ahead and ask her. So that she doesn't get away, ask her tonight. Ask her. Go ahead and ask her. So that she doesn't get away, ask her tonight. sm034 post1040 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7817272126066536095?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-19302885535525737302009-05-28T20:08:00.000-05:002009-05-28T20:09:18.518-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Ring around the rosie. Ring around the rosie. Ring around the rosie. Ring around the town. Ring around the rosie. Ring around the rosie. Ring around the rosie. Ring around the town. Stand by the linden. Stand by the clown. Climb up the linden. Stay off the ground. Stand by the linden. Stand by the clown. Climb up the linden. Stay off the ground. sm033 post1039 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1930288553552573730?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-79456324511572068972009-05-28T19:59:00.000-05:002009-05-28T20:01:27.203-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Pop goes the weasel. Pop goes the weasel. Pop goes the weasel. Pop goes the world. Pop goes the weasel. Pop goes the weasel. Pop goes the weasel. Pop goes the world. Now we race the semis. Now we race the choo-choo. Now we race the antelopes from Cheyenne to Ahuru. Now we race the semis. Now we race the choo-choo. Now we race the antelopes from Cheyenne to Ahuru. sm032 post1038 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7945632451157206897?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-60665397133082315352009-05-23T16:15:00.001-05:002009-05-23T16:17:38.518-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> You can kill me if you want to. You can hurt me if you want to. You can praise me if you want to. You can love me if you dare. You can kill me if you want to. You can hurt me if you want to. You can praise me if you want to. You can love me if you care. You can kill me if you want to. You can hurt me if you want to. You can praise me if you want to. You can love me if you're there. You can kill me if you want to. You can hurt me if you want to. You can praise me if you want to. You can love me anywhere. Song of the wasted. Song of the basted. Song of the tasted. Song of the air. Song of the wasted. Song of the basted. Song of the tasted. Song of the air. Song of the wasted. Song of the basted. Song of the tasted. Song of the air. Song of the wasted. Song of the basted. Song of the tasted. Song of the air. sm031 post1037 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-6066539713308231535?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-56225012437955067912009-04-25T20:18:00.001-05:002009-04-25T20:20:18.669-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> The powder room the powder room That's where they found her car. The powder room the powder room That's where they found her car. The powder room the powder room That's where they found her car. The powder room the powder room That's where they found her car. It wasn't by the city dump. It wasn't at the park. It wasn't on the church grounds. It wasn't in the dark. It wasn't by the stadium. It wasn't at the mall. It wasn't on her neighbor's yard. It wasn't in a stall. The powder room the powder room That's where they found her car. The powder room the powder room That's where they found her car. The powder room the powder room That's where they found her car. The powder room the powder room That's where they found her car. That's where they found her car. That's where they found her car. That's where they found her car. That's where they found her car. That's sm030 post 1036 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5622501243795506791?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-47796445917981811832009-04-25T09:51:00.001-05:002009-04-25T09:51:39.620-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. </font><font face=Verdans size=1> Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me. </font><font face=Verdana size=2> sm029 post 1035 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-4779644591798181183?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-51692469152439858492009-04-03T15:02:00.002-05:002009-04-03T15:11:03.091-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>The Owl-Man's Response</i> out of Ken Kesey No! Her fingers are stiff: a vice for our protection. They set impressions in our heads we cannot lose. Forcing a mineral hardness in our foggy bones, they spark them into accuracy, devise direction. McMurphy thinks to elude them; Bromden groans: "Papa knew of a winter iron and who could choose." <i>(late 1960s)</i> sm028 post 1034 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5169246915243985849?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-7898858525916603142009-03-24T21:59:00.001-05:002009-03-24T22:01:15.036-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>Glints of the Sun</i> Start with a hole for a universe. Start with a whole. In the beginning was the double You. Your breath was a wind that whoed in the hole; banged this universe, these whorls of stars, into our wonder. And we? How wee we are! specks, yet wonders ourselves in our consciousness, opening through our spectacles the spectacles around and in; changing them. Of course we seek to become as You. Nothing You make tends otherwise, pulsing: Your manifest heart, enlivening from depth to depth so oxygen and silicon define our souls. So the glints of the sun on the live oaks' leaves, now quavering, now still; on the flakes of snow where skiers cut; on the whooshing sea! <i>(undated)</i> sm027 post 1033 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-789885852591660314?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-27358976239747282962009-03-23T22:33:00.000-05:002009-03-23T22:33:35.279-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>Three</i> <i>1. To Francisco Varela</i> with thanks to Charles Hampden-Turner Out of the Body emerges Mind; out of the Mind emerges Body. So also out the Universe God; so also out God the Universe. Mystery out of Mystery. Now. Forever. Our rooted skies are nets out of trees; trees out of nets: the tangible creating the intangible; the intangible creating the tangible. Yet the point of view: so eerily the point of view controls, controls. So the abstract skies seem a female prepared & anxious for the pulsing roots; so the concrete skies appear a male awaiting & needing the engendering roots. So the abstract skies appear a male; so the concrete skies seem a female. But triangle out of triangle: star after star: any is each; each is all. <i>2. Again to Francisco Varela</i> Still, whoever he is I'm becoming and am, the tones of my body keep me apart, however vital empathy, however well I can understand myself and others, and try to. How the minnows dart & wriggle, caught in my net! How the multitudinous waters drag and pull as the net lifts; swim suddenly through! Struggling logic, tree&mdash; though poorly tended&mdash; I yet, when winds & nettings tire me, lean on you. At work / at rest, neither roots thriving in the dark earth nor roots withering in the bright air, but roots sustained by the Rune whose soul is energy, and pleasing it, I and you, as each, through each, each restore, wide-eyed and deep as the universe. <i>3. Energy</i> . . . <i>n</i> /LL <i>energia</i>, fr. Gk <i>energeia</i> activity, fr. <i>energos</i> active, fr. <i>en</i> in + <i>ergon</i> work/ 1 : vitality of expression 2 : the capacity of acting 3 : power forcefully exerted 4 : the capacity for doing work syn see POWER These are the definitions presented in <b>Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary</b>. I am pleased; for Energy, Radiant Love, is: the creating soul of my Rune Lord, the Primal Poem / the Primal Song, Deepest and Holiest of Mysteries. The universe, the consciousness-rooted universe, the ever-changing universe, the violent, beauteous universe, alive, alive/ beyond our keenest imaginings, transformative, magnanimous! But manifestation on manifestation the universe is; not Energy. Within, and yet as well without, Energy&mdash; fetal here on my card table chair to defend my feet from the vanished flea (from who knows where) my eyes caught sitting black and smart on my opened poets' calendar but my killing finger's slow approach wanded into vexing air, I sag&mdash; <i>Energy</i> predominates, enigmatic, warm. <i>1&ndash;13&14&ndash;83</i> sm026 post 1032 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-2735897623974728296?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-68507010742497873102009-03-23T16:01:00.001-05:002009-03-23T16:01:58.805-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>The Purple Fox</i> Now blows a dark and brawling wind Along the purple Fox; And stands a rake beside his love Near friendless coalyard docks. And she is supple, like a wave, In her delight with him; But he's as stiff as any drunk All bottle to the brim. He stumbles out and stumble in: She smiles; then holds him near. But he is numb to all her warmth, And stares, and drinks his beer. Then quick and rough, he grips her jaw. She grasps his icy wrist. And eyes fear eyes in ghostly pale&mdash; He pounds her with his fist; He bruises with an empty can And tears her blouse away, And strips her to each rattling bone And molds her breast like clay. The coal turns white; the snow turns red. His love squirms like a worm. Though every twist would flee the beast, His vorant arms grow firm. With seering lust his sockets roll; His fingers run insane. So crazed is he that even now Her screams and tears are vain. And all this craze and drunkenness Is tangled in her hair. And love is raped and turned to ash, And softly strangled there. Yet far and cold the still night falls, The frozen river flows; But only one can tell the tale: The brawling wind that blows. <i>1965</i> <i>published in summer 1965 Pursuit volume V number 2</i> sm025 post1031 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-6850701074249787310?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-24298232392385698552009-03-04T08:43:00.002-06:002009-03-16T09:41:41.195-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Answer me Answer me Why won't you answer me Answer me Answer me I'm not a fool Answer me Answer me Why won't you answer me Answer me Answer me I'm not a fool Let the world pass ah-ah-ahn Let the world pass ah-ah-ahn Let the world pass ah-ah-ahn Let the world pass in Let the world pass ah-ah-ahn Let the world pass ah-ah-ahn Let the world pass ah-ah-ahn Let the world pass in sm024 post1030 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-2429823239238569855?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-48432832562982776462009-03-02T21:44:00.002-06:002009-03-02T21:48:07.656-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> too-oo- oo-oo-oo too-oo- oo-oo-oo too-ee-oo-oo-oo too-oo-oo-oo where i live where i die where am i where are you sm00023 post 1029 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-4843283256298277646?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-87098707164800836662009-02-21T15:27:00.003-06:002009-02-21T15:33:53.949-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>With Apologies</i> And then there was a rock of death upon a placid sea. And then there was a wispy breath, and it belonged to me. And then there was a brilliant kite athwart the setting sun. And then there was another night, and so much still not done. </font><font face=Verdana size=1> by Brian A. Salchert 2-11-00 on p. 27 of the 1996 Perigee Book printing of Dr. Louis Jandra's: <b>The Psychologist's Book of Self-Tests</b> </font><font face=Verdana size=2> is also from the Preface for <i>Intelligence Is Not Enough</i> sm022 post 1028 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-8709870716480083666?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-3506370664871003722009-02-21T15:09:00.001-06:002009-02-21T15:10:36.856-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>Cautionary</i> Some will call Many will send But in the end You are all So if you attend Attend with care Let not befall Conditions where No one is there <i>July 3, 2000</i> from the Preface for <i>Intelligence Is Not Enough</i> a Thinking Lizard unpublished e-tailbook about the stock market sm021 post 1027 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-350637066487100372?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-90271425693719151062009-02-17T13:00:00.001-06:002009-02-17T13:01:03.570-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Well, sir, what is your need today? Another passed away today. [ Music and/or words could be added to this. ] sm020 post 1026 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-9027142569371915106?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-38593102603588962792009-02-15T15:33:00.002-06:002009-02-15T15:35:01.656-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Carousel carousel Let me ride the carousel Carousel carousel Let me ride the carousel Up and down and round and round and Up and down and round and round and Up and down and round and round and Up and down and round and round and Carousel carousel Let me ride the carousel Carousel carousel Let me ride the carousel Up and up and up and up and Up and up and up and up and Up and up and up and up and Up and up and up and up and Up and up and up and up and Up and up and up and up and </font><font face=Georgia size=3> C a r o u s e l</font> <font face=Verdana size=2> sm019 post 1025 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3859310260358896279?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-55604892533389213212009-02-15T13:40:00.003-06:002009-02-15T15:37:10.630-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Yes I will. No you won't. Yes I will. No you won't. Yes I will. Yes I will. Yes I will. Yes I will. No you won't. No you won't. No you won't. No you won't. When will you always follow Me? I know not when I always will. When will you always follow Me? I know not when I always will. When will-- When will-- When will-- When will-- When will-- When will-- When will-- When will-- When will-- When will-- When will-- When will-- sm018 post 1024 2009-02-15 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5560489253338921321?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-26023414070990052142009-02-02T17:15:00.001-06:002009-02-02T17:17:01.119-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Where have you been? Beyond control. Where have you been? I do not know. Where have you been? 3 hells in tow. Where have you been? They took my soul. Where have you been? Alone. Alone. Where have you been? You told me so. Where have you been? Watch what you sow. Where have you been? I'm home. I'm home. Where have you been? Don't let me go. Don't tell me go. Don't make me go. sm017 post 1023 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-2602341407099005214?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-2017469135889928252009-02-01T09:38:00.002-06:002009-02-01T09:40:37.202-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> May God forgive me. God forgive. May God forgive me. God forgive. May God forgive me. God forgive. May God forgive me. God forgive. Each time each and every Each time while I live Each time each and every Each time while I live sm016 post 1022 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-201746913588992825?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-620563057316605492009-01-31T17:55:00.001-06:002009-01-31T17:56:08.614-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Where is my bicycle? Where is my bicycle? Where is my bicycle? I wanna fly. Where is my bicycle? Where is my bicycle? Where is my bicycle? I wanna fly. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall. Where is my bicycle? Where is my bicycle? Where is my bicycle? I wanna fly. Where is my bicycle? Where is my bicycle? Where is my bicycle? I wanna fly. sm015 post 1021 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-62056305731660549?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-34919865535934707232009-01-27T19:55:00.001-06:002009-01-27T19:57:45.591-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> To the rafters to the rafters to the rafters to the walls To the rafters to the rafters to the rafters to the walls We will always be together We will always be apart We will always be together We will always be apart Here's your money Here's your baggage Here's your car keys You can go Here's your money Here's your baggage Here's your car keys You can go In the winter in the summer in the springtime in the fall please remember to forgive me: Do not write and do not call To the rafters to the rafters to the rafters to the walls To the rafters to the rafters to the rafters to the walls - sm014 post 1020 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3491986553593470723?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-50782539449365548252009-01-22T21:06:00.003-06:002009-01-23T10:01:40.672-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> There goes the ho-omestead. There goes the neighborhood. There goes the ho-omestead. There goes the town. Take me-e ho-o-ome. Take me ho-o-ome. Take me ho-ome. Take me home. sm013 post 1019 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5078253944936554825?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-15007446150190686712009-01-15T09:08:00.002-06:002009-01-15T09:11:12.981-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Help me to count them Whenever they wander Wherever they wander Whatever they do. Help me to count them Whenever they wander Wherever they wander Whatever they do. Up here on the mountain Down there on the plain In sunshine and rain Just waiting for you. Up here on the mountain Down there on the plain In sunshine and rain Just waiting for you. Up here on the mountain Down there on the plain In sunshine and rain Just waiting for you Just waiting for you Just waiting for you. sm012 post 1018 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1500744615019068671?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-28084515191157495612009-01-11T22:04:00.004-06:002009-01-12T08:52:24.808-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> I'm here. I'm home. Ain't that a show. I'm here. I'm home. Ain't that a show. I'm here. I'm home. Ain't that a show. I'm here. I'm home. Ain't that a show. Ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ling-ling. Ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ling-ling. Ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ling-ling. Ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ring-ah-ring ah-ling-ling. I'm here. I'm home. Ain't that a show. I'm here. I'm home. Ain't that a show. sm011 post 1017 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-2808451519115749561?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-69777502347013616302009-01-08T21:54:00.001-06:002009-01-08T21:56:26.761-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> That there will be peace in your life that there will be peace in your life that you may live until you die; that you may live after you die: In the ground, miracles; in the sky, miracles; in the sea, miracles; in the flame, miracles. [ Repeat all above. ] sm010 post 1016 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-6977750234701361630?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-12323913336484757132009-01-06T10:10:00.001-06:002009-01-06T10:12:23.692-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Find me. Find me. Where will you go to find me? Find me. Find me. Where will you go to find me? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Find me. Find me. Where will you go to find me? Find me. Find me. Where will you go to find me? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Where will it be? Find me. Find me. Where will you go to find me? Find me. Find me. Where will you go to find me? Find me. Find me. Where will you go to find me, find me, find me, me, me? sm009 post 1015 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1232391333648475713?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-25766878708799896872008-12-29T09:41:00.004-06:002008-12-29T09:44:39.829-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <i>After Bar Closing</i> Two nights ago a famous couple entered the lobby; and just as they were about to walk out the doors, the woman whined "It's raining"; and turning towards me, asked me to please make it stop. Raising my hands, I addressed the rain. The following night this same couple passed through again, and the woman thanked me for stopping the rain. Stymied for a moment, I at last responded: "It took me awhile, but I did it!" We laughed a little. (Wish I really could stop the rain .) <i>1988/01/24</i> sm008 post 1014 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-2576687870879989687?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-58956998771286749532008-12-29T08:20:00.003-06:002008-12-29T08:24:58.318-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b></font><font face=Courier size=3> <i>Pavan</i> So long as words exist and humans who use them there will be those who enter them as a spelunker enters a cave, an astronomer new space, a piano tuner each key's sound, who in effect will live in them and both sustain and be sustained by each as it is and as they shape it, who write them; and, in the patterns they divine, change our lives. <i>1988/12/18-19</i> </font><font face=Verdana size=2> sm007 post 1013 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5895699877128674953?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-69837003764794791972008-12-27T10:12:00.001-06:002008-12-27T10:13:10.583-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> Don't hang up! Don't hang up! Make that phone stop ring- ing! (instrumental interlude) Don't hang up! Don't hang up! Make that phone stop ring- ing! (repeat instrumental interlude and/or add or change to a new instrumental closing) sm006 post 1012 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-6983700376479479197?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-74315075319944240662008-11-17T22:48:00.003-06:002008-11-17T22:58:42.209-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>Untitled</i> Meaning to make more of it than he ever could, <i>three dogs drink from the fountain</i> he drove his way through sleep and Nebraska and rested in Cheyenne --------- Pronghorns running, rain on the mountains, <i>the ocean folds, divides</i> he pushed his eyes past salt and sunset, got three in a king at Elko --------- Late the following afternoon, deserts, peaks, and valleys behind, <i>sprinklers low</i> he shifted his heart into Oakland and Hayward and studied it on the map --------- Sunday, after San Francisco and the cleansing of Highway One, <i>snails</i> he dribbled off to fog and Santa Barbara, he walked be/ side the sand - [ The above--which I have revised a little-- was found in a notebook. The incidents in it are true. They occurred in 1970. The "three" were: me, my wife, and the eldest of her two younger sisters who was moving to California. The reason our destination was Santa Barbara was because an aunt and uncle of theirs lived there. ] sm005 post 1011 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7431507531994424066?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-73038214566293914132008-11-08T14:21:00.001-06:002008-11-08T14:24:00.642-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>Name This River: Longhorn</i> What godlings breathe on Texas, spring tumbleweed through raspy dust; with flails of rain & ice & snow norther county after county into submission; out of the Mexicos comfort one day & the next one roast; birth from the Gulf of Mexico snail fogs, urchin humidities, songs & laughter, and roiling pirates intense of eye; welcome with pines & oaks & mesquite, and oil wells & bank towers, and famous steer & flashing fish, with lonesome rolling mile on mile, & sufferings, and yet again with kudos & ramadas; book Charles Behlen into & for my spirit, and likewise or elsewise you; ponder me in Austin, a migrant from Wisconsin for some 45 days now as I (still uneasy in my settling in) course roughly across 4 atlas pages-- from its Dawson County beginning to its end in Matagorda Bay--the river that sections Austin, the river whose name my naming heart may ever want to change? (from <b>First Pick</b> - selected poems by Alden St. Cloud, 1982) sm004 post1010 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7303821456629391413?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-84912739307258815262008-11-08T14:00:00.001-06:002008-11-08T14:03:29.065-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>The New Seasons</i> 1. Swept to angels the snow delights and the yards they suddenly touch seem somehow blessed as the children skipping tumbling lolleygag home dropping their goods for wings snowmen snowballs forts oblivious in their escapes 2. Softly rocking creaking the breeze from the fragrant green shining noon as it ruffles the daffodil curtain the wife and husband smile at each other while they share close memories and pictures of their kids and grandkids 3. Mowing the lawn by the garden where cutflowers rise and neatly slide into a braided basket unrhythmically swinging from his wife's left forearm the husband stops resting his paunch and shifts into a long idle 4. Quickened into the riveredge woods right off the high school parking lot the three boys and the three girls yell and squeal as they duck under ochreous leaves pop over a knoll shimmer through a dogqwood brake bob out of sight (from <b>First Pick</b> - selected poems by Alden St. Cloud, 1982) sm003 post 1009 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-8491273930725881526?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-33913021483405083362008-11-08T13:32:00.002-06:002008-11-08T13:38:27.281-06:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <b>Scatterings</b> <i>Wells Mfg. Corp. Plastics Department</i> Angels demons fireflies beige 'n' grey-black dust of plastics thin air-hosed flash a butterfly on a tank-top a medal on a breast a mole on a nose small oblong preforms stacked together on their sides a black aurora rotor bodies distributor caps tumbling jacks & switches coil heads boxes barrels slip carts gloves armbands scoops inserts trays the heat of ovens & grinding presses August days over 90 sweat stock handler or preform maker or press operator or set-up man in the patterns of your work you weave in pools of something to eat to drink of bullshit hassling anger of serious talk of rest of dreams for yourself for others as you want need to can you mold your muscles and mind producing satisfaction and someone listens to crickets someone feels a cool breeze after dark someone jumps from ragweed entering a window someone balks at the taste of heat & dust someone breathes love the foreman worries smiles <i>Labor Day, 1973</i> (from <b>First Pick</b> - selected poems by Alden St. Cloud, 1982) sm002 post 1008 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3391302148340508336?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-12912426718671991242008-10-24T20:55:00.005-05:002009-04-25T13:54:41.140-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> <i>Bell Toll</i> people people / people people / people people / people people / people people / people people / people people / people people / so we fall / so we fall / so we fall people people / people people / people people / people people / people people / people people / people people / people people / so we fall / so we fall / so we fall the faster the climb / the shorter the time the faster the climb / the shorter the time so we fall / so we fall / so we fall the faster the climb / the shorter the time the faster the climb / the shorter the time so we fall / so we fall / so we fall sm001 post 1007 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1291242671867199124?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-2840337229869962192008-10-24T16:03:00.002-05:002008-10-28T22:18:07.429-05:00<pre><font face=Verdana size=2><p> ~ 2008-10-13: Discovered that when I try to edit a migrated page the entire page gets messed up. That did not happen in AOL Journals. As it is, I have several issues with Blogger's platform, but I am going to stick it out here anyway. This Sprintedon blog has many internal links, and because I cannot easily change them here, I am changing them over at AOL. That is, I am replacing the AOL-type links with Blogger-type links. They work, and my entry doesn't get all messed up. Alas, I will have to delete this migration and try again with the fixed one. Hope I make it by month's end. ----- 2008-10-14: Think I solved my problem. I had chosen the yes option for the Convert Line Breaks box under Formatting in Settings. It is now set at no, and my pages are no longer getting messed up. ----- 2008-10-17: Have been busy updating my site map and the hubs and sub-hubs. Most of them now are correct for here. Need to check each post in this blog yet for internal links and other problems. Wish I knew an easy way to go from post to post. Over at AOL I could. More later. - 9:45 PM - Am fairly sure I've completed the hub and sub-hub updating, but I will check tomorrow. ----- 2008-10-19: I must say that having to move from the AOL to the Google galaxy has been teaching me useful procedures, thank you. ----- 2008-10-22: I did find that if I use the back arrow after I have published a changed post from the edit view area/ I am taken back to the post as it was before I changed it, but if I use the back arrow again/ I am taken back to the edit view area/ where I can then proceed to the next post I either want to edit and/or view. - 9:25 PM Have been taking out Technorati tags as I find them since labels are used here. Have around 150 posts to check yet. I know errors will remain, but I can do close text checks on other days. Changing the internal AOL links to Blogger-style links was my first concern. This blog <i>will</i> continue on, but not as it did when it was an AOL Journal blog. Rhodingeedaddee is my core blog here. ----- 2008-10-24: Am working my way, newest to oldest, through Sprintedon Migrataurus in order to (mainly) discover labels for posts. Am also removing all Technorati tags. ----- 2008-10-28 - 10:08 PM Just finished placing labels on the posts in this blog. There is more to do, but I feel better now. Had to place the labels list near the blog's bottom because I needed a template with a wide body and I did not want a long list to come ahead of this blog's posts. post 1006 </p></font></pre><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-284033722986996219?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-67962779003275640732008-09-28T17:06:00.001-05:002008-10-19T19:07:00.031-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> From counterpunch: An article by Mike Whitney about what's wrong in d c washington <A href="http://www.counterpunch.org/whitney09272008.html">Herein are deft connections and cogent details.</A> Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-09-28 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-6796277900327564073?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-43405078160629589002008-09-26T21:57:00.001-05:002008-10-19T19:23:00.496-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <I>Here Comes</I> Here comes the night. Here comes the day. So comes tomorrow after today. (Repeat) Here comes the sun. Here comes the moon. There goes my daughter chasing a spoon. Here comes the summer. Here comes the fall. Here comes the winter. Spring's in the stall. Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-09-26 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-4340507816062958900?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-70339088169360254872008-09-25T22:21:00.001-05:002008-10-23T08:49:45.330-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> As the first and possibly only comment beneath the post I am linking to here states: "Beautifully put." <A href="http://jasperbernes.blogspot.com/2008/09/oratory-on-death-of-neoliberalism.html">Oratory on the Death of Neoliberalism</A> by Jasper Bernes </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7033908816936025487?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-31911544386364899392008-09-24T08:33:00.003-05:002008-10-27T21:18:41.997-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P>from Switched <A href="http://www.switched.com/2008/09/24/the-12-most-dangerous-e-mails">the 12 most dangerous e-mails</A></P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3191154438636489939?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-52774561402959431122008-09-17T18:12:00.001-05:002008-10-23T08:52:40.642-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> At WalletPop read this AOL Money article: <A href="http://money.aol.com/investing/the-financial-meltdown">12 financial tips for these troubled times</A> Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-09-17 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5277456140295943112?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-48267861557669930832008-09-16T09:29:00.001-05:002008-10-27T21:20:54.014-05:00<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-4826786155766993083?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-49328939473292611662008-09-12T09:22:00.001-05:002008-10-27T21:22:01.851-05:00<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-4932893947329261166?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-57571366662280804072008-09-06T08:28:00.001-05:002008-10-19T20:32:11.783-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <I>Of This Death</I> There's a hell that I'm in. There's a hell that I'm in. There's a hell that I'm in. That's for sure. There's a hell that I'm in. There's a hell that I'm in. There's a hell that I'm in. That's for sure. There's a heaven there too. There's a heaven there too. There's a heaven there too. Evermore. There's a heaven there too. There's a heaven there too. There's a heaven there too. Evermore. - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-09-06 song lyrics 33 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5757136666228080407?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-83852276122085768032008-09-05T21:23:00.002-05:002008-10-24T09:28:20.040-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> from Technology Review Friday September 5, 2008 "Intensifying the Sun" by Kevin Bullis an article about two MIT researchers Associate Professor Marc Baldo and graduate student Shalom Goffri <A href="http://www.technologyreview.com/Energy/21217/">an inexpensive process for capturing the sun's energy</A> Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-09-05 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-8385227612208576803?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-22548052735039484442008-09-05T17:55:00.001-05:002008-10-23T08:58:15.047-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> after security update surprise <I>is</I> being made, however slowly and thumpily. 6 PM is about to be. One of the major problems I had was with links in sidebar sections. They simply would not connect to the destinations they pointed toward. That is, no connection could be established. However, strangely, a few did not have that problem. Had to flip my go-to browser from Google to AOL and also download and run the AOL toolbar. May yet have other challenges, but this change I did not want to make has helped. Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-09-05 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-2254805273503948444?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-70566519134924172122008-09-04T18:01:00.001-05:002008-10-23T08:59:32.429-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> update surprise late last night changed my system. So I have been spending much of today trying to figure out what it did and what I now must do to complete tasks I can no longer complete as I did before. Have made some progress, but it looks like I will be firmly in the discomfort zone a while. Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-09-04 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7056651913492417212?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-52276100998447521662008-09-01T07:52:00.001-05:002008-10-19T20:33:29.035-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> [ Note: Though there could be, there are no words in this piece, just 3 sounds in each 4-sound line. There are 2 registers, with the indented lines being in a higher register. Each 4-sound line occurs four times in what could be considered a stanza. The first line in each stanza has the highest notes. The second and third lines are the same but have notes which are a step lower. The fourth line is another step lower. In each register each stanza is repeated three times. ] <I>Sad</I> ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah ee ah um ah - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-09-01 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5227610099844752166?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-1948471049949310172008-08-29T15:02:00.001-05:002008-10-19T20:34:19.721-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <I>Impasse</I> Oh won't you come and live with me? I would; but I can't, as you know, as you know. Oh won't you come and live with me? I would; but I can't, as you know, as you know. Oh won't you come and live with me? I would; but I can't, as you know, as you know. I would; but I can't, as you know, as you know. I would; but I can't, as you know, as you know. - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-29 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-194847104994931017?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-7418039708500424542008-08-25T15:37:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:05:30.675-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Repetitions 2</I> Spirits of flowers spear through earth Bodies of angels breathe through air Fire washes Water burns In rusting cages gods men (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-741803970850042454?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-87181370409919744582008-08-25T15:23:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:10:43.579-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Repetitions</I> redheads on bicycles in the park we remember floating / upturned faces blind the sun (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-8718137040991974458?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-52645063307170726622008-08-25T15:08:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:11:39.590-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>March 1, 1972</I> Snow streaks waves waves through oaks and maples my eyes 'n' bones the hemorrhaged sky (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5264506330717072662?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-194744267040087342008-08-25T13:43:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:12:38.564-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Pattern</I> Life Death The spinning of stars (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-19474426704008734?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-3161725903079301672008-08-25T13:30:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:13:35.960-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Recognition and Resolve</I> Too long have I lived in death the frail armor of self-pity the galleons of Romance and let this century dangle from my wrists like rough unwanted charms. I will give my body to the woman I love delight the flowers to their earthy soles and the works of men to their fingered highs. (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-316172590307930167?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-30358465759103189402008-08-25T12:55:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:14:29.755-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Emptiness</I> * Here we are in the Rathskeller with the deadly poets of old It is after eight pm <I>Blue Tale Fly</I> is setting up Between my thumb and index finger an Old Milwaukee bottle edges around ** My second time at the Grand The skin-flick's bad yet makes me aware we are locked in cages of fantasies where the rich earths mix with the poor *** Squat on the frontroom rug with me Let my voice hold your spirit Rocks don't want waters to win Wasps are at odds with honey bees Desires rage through roses Wrestlers flip and groan (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3035846575910318940?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-78243972261964367742008-08-25T12:10:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:15:21.212-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>To ____</I> Stars fall, and grasses . . . and hearts. . . . Wherever light slices, I still move and you move, and stand apart: pulsing, changing, denied. Worlds turn, touch. Woosh! Woom! (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7824397226196436774?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-1081720242540005262008-08-25T11:55:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:17:06.182-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>The air</I> shifts swallows light voices (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-108172024254000526?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-11720265880616970412008-08-25T11:34:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:17:55.595-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Parable</I> as the hummingbird gives to in the wind as the clover in the sun as the stone in the rain (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1172026588061697041?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-78587781415126711912008-08-25T11:18:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:18:45.644-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Reflection .5</I> It is almost midnight again; though I've looked at myself continually, when the moment comes I know I will be the same. Somewhere bells. It is Sunday morning again. (from the never-to-be A Tree Full of Wind) - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7858778141512671191?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-74694333042228461812008-08-25T09:45:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:20:03.863-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Preface</I> Our atoms are so unstable now we gladly return to pyramids aqueducts spires whatever no longer lives-- a tree full of wind [ Note: On February 5, 1972, I began in a small hardbound notebook what was intended to be a book of poems: A Tree Full of Wind. ] - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7469433304222846181?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-36244153868208294072008-08-24T09:54:00.001-05:002008-10-19T20:37:05.613-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P><a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=5eb0dGRunSFPwmVOzAj52FFA8EgpYD-qzVVQv4xQp5Fd3Ig="><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aq6Q75KCx78/SPJgdCCQCBI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/kY5FeaZo3zY/s1600-R/J6beYKfN4SN3su9JUlHfoYNnudFeuGcx0180.jpg" alt=""/></a> <I>Humans Being</I> Each turns to each. Each turns to everyone. When we really see, We know who we are. (Recall a time when an other or others helped you.) Each turns to each. Each turns to everyone. When we really see, We know who we are. (Recall a time when you helped an other or others.) Each turns to each. Each turns to everyone. When we really see, We know who we are. (Recall whatever, and meditate on it.) Each turns to each. Each turns to everyone. When we really see, We know who we are. (Neither worldly wealth nor power nor fame can provide true joy. What, then, can?) Each turns to each. Each turns to everyone. When we really see, We know who we are. - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-24 </P></FONT></PRE> <DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"><A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag>aoljaolPictureAdd</A>, <A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_1" target=_blank rel=tag>aoljaolPictureAdd_1</A></DIV><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3624415386820829407?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-49975298319427533372008-08-20T14:23:00.001-05:002008-10-19T20:38:24.518-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <I>Bell Drum</I> Ring-ling-ling ring-ah-ling-ling-ling ring-ah-ling-ling-ling ring-ah-ling Ring-ling-ling ring-ah-ling-ling-ling ring-ah-ling-ling-ling ring-ah-ling Boom-uh-boom-boom-boom boom-uh-boom-boom-boom boom-uh-boom-boom-boom boom-uh-boom boom-uh-boom-boom-boom boom-uh-boom-boom-boom boom-uh-boom-boom-boom boom-uh-boom - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-20 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-4997529831942753337?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-84622703696736735672008-08-18T07:23:00.001-05:002008-10-19T20:39:41.065-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <I>Why?</I> When we got married Why'd you always close the door? When we got married Why'd you close the door? When we got married Why'd you always close the door? When we got married Why'd you close the door? Why'd you want to do that? Why'd you want to do that for? Why'd you want to do that? Why'd you want to do? Why'd you want to do that? Why'd you want to do that for? Why'd you want to do that? Why'd you want to do? - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-18 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-8462270369673673567?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-26719708523685689292008-08-16T12:39:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:22:45.722-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Milwaukee</I> Another's child, I enter you tremulously rising into your thirty-two inspiritings, the landmarked node your downtown is, the sweep of parks that ease you to Lake Michigan, city of beers and reataurants, of festivals. So average, exceptional, exuberant, diamond uncut, you represent Wisconsin well, touched as you are by farms and lakes and woods and care, your industry, inventiveness world evident, outlasting what detracts from you. Only those who work for beauty are the real men, the real women; so only when I seek beauty am I whole, real. I honor those who empathize, sweat so others in honest need have food, shelter, clothes, knowledge, heart, wisdom, respect. You, Milwaukee, blessed with buildings of special wealth, are even more special in your citizens, so many of whom deeply love, their differences no barrier, extending their bodies / spirits into the soil, the true, the sky. <I>7-23-80</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-16 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-2671970852368568929?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-86743409490946705312008-08-16T12:25:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:24:12.450-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Praise for Solzhenitsyn</I> In some ways I am illiterate, though I read and read. I have not entered, Alexander, one of your books; yet I know the countries in them cherish life; so even in my ignorance I dance on a hill of clover and breathe the crisp winds of your honesty and feel your homeland's leaders also must despite their preference for shadows and lungs heavy with soot. <I>(????)</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-16 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-8674340949094670531?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-61805326089699242008-08-16T12:18:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:25:08.599-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Comfort</I> the shimmery laughs of a willow <I>(????)</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-16 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-6180532608969924?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-88841923227177360152008-08-13T22:58:00.001-05:002008-10-19T20:40:30.963-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <I>Boating Down the Volga</I> Boating down the Volga/ boating down the Vo-olga. Boating down the Volga/ down the Volga now. Boating down the Volga/ boating down the Vo-olga. Boating down the Volga/ down the Volga now. Where are all the sailors? Where are all the say-aylors? Where have all the sailors/ down the Volga gone? Where are all the sailors? Where are all the say-aylors? Where have all the sailors/ down the Volga gone? - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-13 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-8884192322717736015?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-75844783862250857722008-08-12T09:30:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:26:49.474-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Chess</I> About the game of chess I know: the queen alone most wields the power--not the knights (for all their fancy moving), not the bishops (fervently diagonal), not the rooks (uniquely armed), and surely not the pawns (gutsy munchkins)--that moves their king if, once in battle, moved he'll be, and king indeed, well served, exalt thereby his queen, think generously of his loyal pawns, alive and dead, and his jousting knights, urged and decorated; his adjutant rooks; validate the blessings of his bishops who, false or true, represent Belief; <I>are</I> bishops to the masses. Better to be a blessed king, however dependent upon one's rooks and the holy mobility of one's queen and the valors of one's sacred knights and one's solace in having fearless pawns no matter they be middling: just pawns, than one unblessed. O transcendental bishops, the thought of whom inspires a kingdom's knights and clasps a cape of wonder on its king! But, ah, the eyes of the goddess, the queen, and the deft straight movements of the deep rooks! What graces out of these! Always a rook's intrigue captures, readying behind the pawns to be a last defense with the piercing queen long after, perhaps, the ingenuous bishops have gone; to be a fortress for its king after the earth inters his bloodied knights if not our memories of them. Those knights I'd often be, and have, and am; those rooks, venturing for and enclosing my king, whoever / whatever; and the squat pawns too; and the slicing, nebulous bishops; and that feudal jewel above all, his queen. Though lost be his knights and squiring pawns and castling rooks and angling bishops, what a joyous king with a constant queen! <I>(10-16-82)</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-12 </P></PRE></FONT><PRE></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7584478386225085772?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-76085616799712704052008-08-10T11:23:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:28:08.151-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Breakfast Lunch Supper Snack</I> Eat me, and the rats of Venice will swim in your blood. Eat me, and the flowers of the sun will blossom across your synapses. Eat me, and these gritty bland walls. . . . <I>(2-4-83)</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-10 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7608561679971270405?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-62071468174129908232008-08-10T11:13:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:29:08.039-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Nuclear Weapons</I> Reach down; pick up a red &amp; brown maple leaf by its stem. Crush that dryness of edges, veins, &amp; stiff contours in your curious hand quickly, or slowly, as you wish/ but sensuously, letting your mind dwell on how easily it was coaxed to overkill vulnerable beauty even as you are vulnerable beauty waiting, waiting. <I>(????)</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-10 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-6207146817412990823?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-46668036769894430622008-08-09T17:59:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:29:51.450-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Accepting Intelligent Beings</I> ". . . a third eye, say, or blue hair covering the nose and forehead," writes Carl Sagan in <B>The Cosmic Connection</B>; or orange skin, or ten feet tall and completely clothed in light-green hair, or suction cups on their soles, or phosphorescent behinds, or webbed/ fingers &amp; toes and functioning gills, or amoebic bodies, or heads without ears eyes noses mouths, or presences of mirror beams. <I>(????)</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-09 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-4666803676989443062?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-32462834859106258742008-08-09T17:50:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:31:27.954-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>The Eye of God</I> From the crescent of moon white shore the sun's windy light excites the air as up through waters shallow &amp; clear it draws against the bright sands a scintillant transfixing hue that takes away imagining or so charges the bodies here they seem the mien of Destiny emerald emerald white white emerald emerald emerald <I>11-27-82</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-09 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3246283485910625874?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-91715761608497477602008-08-09T08:50:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:32:49.815-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Early FdL Fragment</I> I (To know me is to know the wind, for I Am wayward in my chains; for when the lie Of Europe rocked our world awake to reel Again on ancient plains, my flesh would cry Each night in trembling--trembling, though the heel Of love would walk me hours long; though the tear Of love would glisten. War had made men kneel, Desiring God and boys to end their fear, While I could only whine at things too near. But so was life's position marked/ before I broke the womb. And yet this wind was more Than unseen whines: it was of love the third Alive, a child of Winnebago's shore, Of paradox and rhyme, a child unheard And unaware that time had carved a goal For him. And now he slept: the one whose word Would wring the core of every living soul, The augur-wind, the Baptist of a thunder roll.) One day when I was tricycle free, and air Was summer, came the <I>whom?</I> of drums, the <I>where?</I> Of brass. In wonder wheeled response to both: from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-09 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-9171576160849747760?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-14702972388944374802008-08-09T08:44:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:33:24.926-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Lines</I> There is a mystery that exists Which only scholars well resist, And Snodgrass wore the laurel right That "April Inventory" night. from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-09 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1470297238894437480?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-37673373308870013322008-08-09T08:35:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:34:30.894-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Vision</I> I met a vision chalice Gliding down a bend of white All against the charcoal night, All against my death. I met a host of ivory Half-hidden by that sacred rim; No other seemed attuned to Him But one beneath his breath. No other seemed attuned to Him As all against the charcoal night I met a vision chalice; I met the Host of sight. from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-09 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3767337330887001332?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-50687660981197479172008-08-09T08:26:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:35:53.737-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>One for Easter</I> A stone rolled out will never return Nor linen be used again, Nor wise men prove From cave to cave That Christ was only One of them; For tunnel life is narrow life And walls were meant to be despised, And only those of candle strength Are truly wise. from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-09 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5068766098119747917?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-59346994966454307272008-08-08T22:33:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:36:42.241-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Sir Thomas and the Marsh Mallow</I> Sir Thomas took a walk one day Along a Scottish fen And there he met a little boy And said he'd come again. Sir Thomas took a walk one day But found the boy was gone. Is he at home, Sir Thomas thought, Or on the town square's lawn? O I guess I cannot bother now With boys that disappear. But o the mallow that he held; So early in the year! If only I might find that globe And turn it once myself. Yet, how could anything replace Its turning by an elf? Sir Thomas, you're a goodly man; You pay your monthly debts. Perhaps if you get close enough He'll let you touch, perhaps. Sir Thomas, a goodly man you are, But do you really care To touch the spotted marsh mallow, Though it be round and fair? The fen is such a swampy place-- So full of mud and weeds-- That any wandering through such muck An idiot it needs. Sir Thomas, you're a goodly man, But surely not a nut. You'd better let the elf alone Get cold and wet: tut, tut. from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-08 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5934699496645430727?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-43824331904849416392008-08-08T21:51:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:37:42.294-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>In Honor of Beethoven</I> Resist the rainful cumuli of nine Eternities? It were as much a sin To chain the bee, or once to undermine The winter artistry of wind that's been Delighting God, and men who bend enough. Why, even streets that always shadow boys, Since concrete hives eclipse the light they love, Believe those clouds sufficient cause for joys. Then let us run the measures of them; feel That cool commotion their approach pursues, Those grey toboggans sprayed with billowed snow. Let us inhale the augur-air and keel Against it, children touched by happy news, Children wet with the full symphonic flow. from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-08 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-4382433190484941639?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-17888711017960756812008-08-08T21:09:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:39:20.129-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Cinquain</I> Movement So strange, so real, All bound by hands and squares, Free as autumn milkweed flights-- Human. from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-08 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1788871101796075681?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-19199305114642562262008-08-04T14:49:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:40:16.537-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>To a Water Strider</I> Surface walker Conqueror of where we drown, How you burn in me; yet, How your momentary glide and flash Corral a hostile eye! . . . damn it, Thin frustrator, Leveler of while we're proud, I would cripple you, you, Could my transitory god and flesh Undo a foreign art. --But you are less and less to me, And I am glad humanity walks in depth.-- from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-04 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1919930511464256226?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-78096964177484848912008-08-04T14:28:00.001-05:002008-10-19T20:41:28.118-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <I>Warning</I> Don't swim in the water. Don't swim in the wah-ahter. Don't swim in the water. The dump. The dump. The dump. Don't swim in the water. Don't swim in the wah-ahter. Don't swim in the water. The dump. The dump. The dump. Look what's in the water. Look what's in the water. Look what's in the water. The dump. The dump. The dump. Look what's in the water. Look what's in the water. Look what's in the water. The dump. The dump. The dump. Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-04 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-7809696417748484891?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-88978395650827083942008-08-04T08:42:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:41:57.260-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Song</I> <I>"If you can't think, at least sing." Theodore Roethke</I> And let the flowers die. And let the webs unloosen to a ball. There is no reason to abjure the sky-- There is no reason, son, at all. If thinking makes your brook run dry, Go spin your feelings through the eyes of wit; Go spin the lily pads against the fly. A song will/ make at least/ a stream of it. from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-04 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-8897839565082708394?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-38595926186331719042008-08-03T20:21:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:43:10.304-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> <I>Io</I> The summer elves are caves away, All land and sea in fire play, Cool earth accepts the sleepy toad; The swallows now are mourned a day. Determined here to curse or pray, I can't deny a quiet road, Though loath to leave my plot, unhoed. Much better so to ease this load And save my spirit from despair Than stand much moved by autumn's goad, Still: someone Charon has not rowed Across the Styx for lack of fare. A robin shivers through the air To marshy warmth, and I'm aware Twice over now that I must set Aside these tools and make my care Revolve no more around a spare, Restricted world; but quickly get Beyond these furrows--out, and let My will explore from debt to debt The trail the swallows took last night, And how those people I have met Will differ from those coming yet, And how a year of green turns white. from <I>Bare Roots and Ragged Limbs</I> - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-03 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3859592618633171904?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-1607898863401701402008-08-03T19:15:00.013-05:002009-07-28T11:50:00.072-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> <B>Scatterings</B> [ Last modified: 2009-07-28 ] [ This is a work-in-progress. ] [ This book's first poem is already online in this journal. Therefore, the initial link will be to that entry, an entry which includes an image of the chapbook it is in. ] The Rueful Soldier <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/07/sw00947d49-cover-image-and-poem.html">poem 1</A> - Io <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00959s-poem2.html">poem 2</A> - Song <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00960s-poem3.html">poem 3</A> - To a Water Strider <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00962s-poem4.html">poem 4</A> - Cinquain <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00963s-poem5.html">poem 5</A> - In Honor of Beethoven <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00964s-poem6.html">poem 6</A> - Sir Thomas and the Marsh Mallow <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00965s-poem7.html">poem 7</A> - One for Easter <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00966s-poem8.html">poem 8</A> - Vision <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00967s-poem9.html">poem 9</A> - Lines <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00968s-poem10.html">poem 10</A> - Early FdL Fragment <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00969s-poem11.html">poem 11</A> - The Eye of God <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00970s-poem12.html">poem 12</A> - Accepting Intelligent Beings <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00971s-poem13.html">poem 13</A> - Nuclear Weapons <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00972s-poem14.html">poem 14</A> - Breakfast Lunch Supper Snack <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00973s-poem15.html">poem 15</A> - Chess <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00974s-poem16.html">poem 16</A> - Comfort <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00976s-poem17.html">poem 17</A> - Praise for Solzhenitsyn <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00977s-poem18.html">poem 18</A> - Milwaukee <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00978s-poem19.html">poem 19</A> - Preface <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00982s-poem20.html">poem 20</A> - Reflection .5 <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00983s-poem21.html">poem 21</A> - Parable <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00984s-poem22.html">poem 22</A> - The air <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00985s-poem23.html">poem 23</A> - To ____ <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00986s-poem24.html">poem 24</A> - Emptiness <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00987s-poem25.html">poem 25</A> - Recognition and Resolve <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00988s-poem26.html">poem 26</A> - Pattern <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00989s-poem27.html">poem 27</A> - March 1, 1972 <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00990s-poem28.html">poem 28</A> - Repetitions <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00991s-poem29.html">poem 29</A> - Repetitions 2 <A href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/08/sw00992s-poem30.html">poem 30</A> - Wells Mfg. Corp. Plastics Department <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/11/s-poem31.html">poem 31</a> - The New Seasons <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/11/s-poem32.html">poem 32</a> - Name This River: Longhorn <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/11/s-poem33.html">poem 33</a> - Untitled <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/11/s-poem34.html">poem 34</a> - Pavan <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/12/s-poem35.html">poem 35</a> - After Bar Closing <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2008/12/s-poem36.html">poem 36</a> - Cautionary <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2009/02/s-poem37.html">poem 37</a> - With Apologies <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2009/02/s-poem38.html">poem 38</a> - The Purple Fox <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2009/03/s-poem39.html">poem 39</a> - Three <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2009/03/s-poem40.html">poem 40</a> - Glints of the Sun <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2009/03/s-poem41.html">poem 41</a> - The Owl-Man's Response <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2009/04/s-poem42.html">poem 42</a> - Interlude <a href="http://thinkinglizard.blogspot.com/2009/07/s-poem43.html">poem 43</a> - - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-03 see shdiary-d49 for poem1 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-160789886340170140?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-50322487763543997622008-08-03T17:02:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:48:51.026-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Verdana size=2><P> Have been finding more old poems of mine. Am going to begin a new book: <B>Scatterings</B>. Will be using an "s" after the sw##### for it. If my verses do not interest you, let the "s" stand for <I>skip</I>. Since it's already up and has no home, "The Rueful Soldier" will be the first one, and then the others from the chapbook it's in which are not yet up. Limiting this book to old works, however, is not likely. Since it will have a link in it, the first <B>Scatterings</B> entry will be: sw00958sc-links.entry21. Yesterday I changed the title of my sonnet opus to <B>1976 Today</B> because I put back one of the deleted poems and expect to be putting all back. There are 13 left. I've placed them in an offline folder along with the original versions of the 2 which have been returned. - Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-03 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-5032248776354399762?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-32115120184231003772008-08-02T11:39:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:52:54.556-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Georgia size=3><P> Here is a link to www.earthlife.net <A href="http://www.earthlife.net/birds/">birds section</A> in which there is information about extinct birds. - Here is one to www.bsc-eoc.org <A href="http://www.bsc-eoc.org/links/links.jsp">where there are links to other bird sites</A>. Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-08-02 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3211512018423100377?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-29549334340932465352008-07-31T13:04:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:53:39.631-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Georgia size=3><P> From www.50states.com/ } } } } } } } <A href="http://www.50states.com/bird/">find out which bird has the most states</A> Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-07-31 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-2954933434093246535?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-12109779718063799202008-07-30T14:49:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:55:33.734-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Georgia size=3><P> <A href="http://www.aviation-history.com/">Aviation History Online Museum</A> Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-07-30 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1210977971806379920?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-35002825913202051122008-07-27T21:32:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:56:19.623-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Georgia size=3><P> There's a better place, but it is under construction. So for now, this inventors.about.com site: <A href="http://inventors.about.com/od/cstartinventions/a/Car_History.htm">Car History</A> Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-07-27 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-3500282591320205112?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4224979143198313854.post-18948473077979209342008-07-25T14:07:00.001-05:002008-10-23T09:57:27.711-05:00<PRE><FONT face=Georgia size=3><P> ~ The link here is to the about/welcome/ page of the Library of Congress of the United States of America. <A href="http://www.americaslibrary.gov/about/welcome.html">LofC</A> ~ Brian A. J. Salchert 2008-07-25 </P></FONT></PRE><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4224979143198313854-1894847307797920934?l=thinkinglizard.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>brian (baj) salcherthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11649691450577647656noreply@blogger.com0