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The twice-told words:

I never knew what’s who the why of schizophrenia
Mortality uncoils just when the route is getting scenic
Plumbago blue and roses red make violet–it’s neat
Rejoiced in Soda Pop since I was knee-high to a Nehi
One of billions–carbonation China to Ohio
Vinegar and baking soda foam up like Orion

Notes

Two things I want to say about the image. One: the near-sphere in the middle that the guy with the clipboard is either standing on or projected from is a duodecahedron, one of the five “regular solids” whose every facet is some polygon. (The tetrahedron and the cube are two other Regular Solids.) Two: I much enjoyed depicting a cat and a woman sharing a halo.

One more thing

My girlfriend’s son, Sean Wegner, has a birthday today. I did a page on him celebrating not only his birthday but also his deep abiding love for baseball. Several teams are mentioned in this quadruple acrostic…

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Here are the words:

As aggression & madness hit home hard & bad
And the fact of the madder: insanity’s sad

Nonetheless we have need of the fight-or-flight urge
Near the dangerous nexus adrenals must splurge

And we’re grateful whilst passing this trail of tears
Agile minds are elastic & friends give 3 cheers

Pick a challenge: adapt and bid Fate do her worst
Ply a cause be adoptive grow hearts fit to burst

Esoteric & oleoresinous G R A I N
Estée-Laundering cheesiness works as a strain

Thus a madness once nasty becomes just plain silly
Take your fun while it’s tasty and run like a filly

Here are some notes:

An Anapest is a measure of meter with two unstressed syllables and then one stressed. “May this sentence exemplify anapest feet.” is a line of anapest tetrameter, that is, one line is four anapestic feet long. Perhaps the most famous example of anapest tetrameter is attributed to Clement Clark Moore, who began “A Visit from Saint Nicholas” thus: “‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house/Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.”

The acrostic is a riff on “Manifest Destiny,” a philosophy akin to “Conquer we must/If our cause it is just.” I think Manifest Destiny has had its day, and needs to not eat it too. I like Anapest Destiny a lot better: let us strive to be Poets.

“Estée Laundering” will be familiar to American fashion-conscious folk as derivative of Estée Lauder, the makeup magnate who lived to be 97 years old and received the Presidential Medal of Freedom from George W. Bush in 2004, the year she died. The Presidential Medal of Freedom is the highest civilian award an American can receive. A question I pose to you, dear reader: do you find my reference to Ms. Lauder complimentary?

Anyone else want to play? Here is a page that has been a Work In Progress for about two years. I intend to finish it in two days or less.

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Suggestion: print it out and draw silly stuff in the panels, or let a youngster color it. Then try to fit some words in there that go with the letters already there. Think of it as a puzzle with whatever rules you want to use for it. Hope you have fun!

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Here are the words:

RIG IT, TONY — light adjusts
Halve the Juice but have we must
Endgames’ aftermathed ejecta
Often dim with gross neglect.

UNPRECEDENTED swoops of glad impasto
Now make the oiled canvas apropos
Raised pressure seems a manageable cost
Here’s furtherance like Indies from Genoa
Ex-palimpsest of pigment tempest-tost

Here are some notes:

A rheostat is a device that controls current flow via positioning of a circuit-completer variously on a coil of resistance wire. Until today I just knew that when you turned the knob the lights got dimmer or brighter. Now I know a little bit about why, and perhaps I’ve (bad pun alert) enLIGHTened a fellow former Rheo-Ignoramus with my illustration (which was ILLUMINATED, naturally. Sorry–I should have said bad PUNS alert).

Speaking of bad puns, the first three words of the first versing are pronounced Rigatoni. I leave it to the reader to come up with a referral of the Rheostat as a “Pièce de résistance”–no, I don’t. 🙂

If I ever remake this page, I will change the last two lines of the first verselet to “Endgame aftermaths eject; A/Oneness dims with gross neglect.” The change hadn’t occurred to me till after the midnight deadline, when I must abandon one page for another.

As for the second versoid, just about anything that ISN’T a Rheostat can be an Unrheostat, but the two examples I drew draw from similarities, one of sound and the other of value range. And if you don’t know what a Palimpsest is, I’d like to encourage you to find out; it’s a fine and fun and (for this page at the very least) useful word.

Anyone else want to play? Here is something I’ll be finishing either today or tomorrow:

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Hope you try it too!

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Here are the words:

Living w/dysfunction drives & conflict turns to fuel
Losing situations & frustrations means accrual
Landing on one’s feet & thriving–aye, therein’s a jewel

Entertainers strain & strive to play Fool’s filigree
Enterprising flight & fancy helps a soul to be
Extraördinary & in sight full: Holy See

A voyager & vagabond may find Guadalajara
Voracious in her ampletight & shy an I-dot starrer
Vicissitudinous to one who’s apt & not a martyr
Vast graveyards may yawn wide & sup on such as auk or darter

Entitlement’s a busy beast & wants ingratiation
Enrage thyself at SLOTH & seek an ACTIVE satiation

Here are some notes:

The word Situation once described desirable work. When I was young the classified ads of the local newspaper often had a section called “Situations Wanted” wherein the placer of the ad would describe the sort of job she or he was hoping to be hired for. Thus Charles Addams had Gomez retelling “A Christmas Carol” to Wednesday and Puggsley: “…then good old Scrooge, bless his heart, turned to Bob Cratchit and snarled, ‘Let me hear another sound from you and you’ll keep Christmas by losing your situation.’” As Richard N. Bolles has pointed out in What Color Is Your Parachute?, losing a situation is often a glorious opportunity.

I put an umlaut over the O in Extraordinary so that it would be pronounced in the reader’s head as a distinctly separate syllable. So that’s not really an umlaut; it’s a diaeresis.

An “I-dot starrer” is someone who dots their lower-case I with a star. Compare this with the “I-dot hearter.” Both subsets of humanity are cases of arrested development if the person in question is more than twelve years old.

Certain types of fish called Darters are classified as threatened or endangered. The particular auk known as the Great Auk was hunted to extinction by the same species that killed the Passenger Pigeon: Homo “sapiens,” the “human” race. Enterprise needs boundaries.

Entitlement is a hot topic nowadays. Many of my high school classmates Facebook-post denunciation of people who use welfare payments (which max out at about $900 per month per household of four, for instance) to buy alcohol and cigarettes. Some of these same classmates buy homes in the six-figure range and cheerfully claim a mortgage deduction well in excess of five figures; drive company cars to family vacations; dine and drink lavishly at “business lunches” and write off half the tab as a business expense, etc.

The bottom line of this poem serves as the bottom line of the theme. “Enrage yourself at SLOTH and seek an ACTIVE satiation” is advice I’ve been giving myself for a long time. That’s why, every day this year, I’ve striven to create a new work of art in the form of a journal page, challenging my creativity with a new (usually acrostic) thematic puzzle to solve via meaningful expression. Meeting these daily challenges has enriched my emotional health beyond description, and I heartily recommend such journaling to anyone who feels the need of an expressive centering.

At the end of his Hugo-winning novella Riders of the Purple Wage, author Philip José Farmer has Grandpa Winnegan, a man about a hundred and twenty years old, leaving his great-great-great grandson Chibiabos Elgreco Winnegan with a note, which he’d paid a man to deliver posthumously. Wikipedia synopsizes the note: “The note simply says that Chib must abandon Ellay, leave his mother, and break free so he can paint from love, not out of hatred.” May we all heed such advice, especially if it comes from our own hearts.

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Here are the words:

Most life events are humdrum–hardly gracing
And some are harrowing, and some debracing

God’s fans included Sandro Botticelli
No prob–IF “He” made Laura Antonelli

If not–if GOD is naught*–a synæsthesia
False-colors all perceivings; & amnesia

Yin-overloads our lives & drives a stasis
Infecting vectored acts with dreamworld basis

Nor is “AYE” unsusceptible, in this
God knows (or *{}) that much “I” see’s amiss

What does it mean? There is a clue in the emphasis of the IF in the word Magnifying. Agnostics of my bent don’t claim to have any more handle on the Truth than anyone else (except, perhaps, the Texas Board of Education, he said with a wry smile). The Universe is mind-boggling enough to provide endless mystery. One simple either/or is: Either Reality has popped on and off eternally, or there was an ultimate starting point (and I don’t mean THE Big Bang; I mean a First Big Bang). And things like magnifying glasses, falsecolor telescopy, and sunsets present different realities of the same scrutinized item. Remember Claude Monet’s different paintings of Reims Cathedral at different times of day? The same brick and mortar can evoke endlessly different moods.

Anyone else want to play?

As I did a couple of days ago, I again present a work in progress. This one is simpler. The symbol in the middle is an ampersand; so the triple acrostic is “Leave & Learn.”Image

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Faithful readers will recognize this page as the finished product of yesterday’s invitation to acrosticize. The loving couple on the left is meant to be me and my Girlfriend, Denise; but the ant & aphid and the dog & human are any & any (& any & any).

The words are these:

Hoot, holler: serendipitous behaviors
As making of a tummy into jelly
Resemble hidden rooms whose doors unslam
Much to the triumph of both lion & lamb
Our genes are like a shop’s stock, or a Deli
Nor know we who’ll be Orwell who’ll be Rambo
In i n t e r a c t i o n we all find our saviors
Creations intertwined like vermicelli
Catch wind with flags heraldic–won’t you wave yours

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Here is the first Replenishment:

Repast the point of no return we miss
Evolvements via savorlicious dish
Plethoric culinarities take aim
Loose shafts against the epicuric lame
Engorgeous to assimilate–you’re on
New paths to gain a belly’s rapprochement

Here is the second replenishment:

Rampaging appetites & thirsts
Ensnare entrap enfold enmesh
Plate-ladenness’ll serve to burst ’em
Let’s gorge like famish’d babe in creche
Exceptional refection
Needed? S E L E C T
Ingreedy-ents/cook/eat it

The illustration, done in haste to beat the Midnight deadline, features a sushi selection, a microtrough of soy sauce mixed with wasabi, a bowl of miso soup, a set of chopsticks, a mound of shaved ginger looking like wadded-up paper, and a doodle meant to represent Good Energy; there is also my signature and date as always. I inadvertently revealed the page beneath when I scanned it with the corner of the lower right turned up, but liked the revelation and did not rescan.

There is a remarkable documentary of a man who has devoted his life to the making of sushi. For replenishment of the Soul, I highly recommend it: Jiro Dreams of Sushi.

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David Lynch is the perfect subject for acrostic poetry. Some day I may attempt a nonuple (that’s NINE; the highest I’ve ever gone is Octuple) acrostic, and if I choose Mr. Lynch as the subject, the confusedness will at least match his. This one, being a mere triple, is fairly strightforward, but I do a little with the Duality theme he’s used himself…

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Almost every American schoolchild learns the alphabet in sequence via a sing-songy thing which ends–nowadays–with “Now I know my ABCs/Next time won’t you sing with me?” (In my day, it was “Now I know my ABCs/Mommy, aren’t you proud of me?” I’m guessing the Alphabet Teaching Powers That Be determined that gender specificity for the end tag was too Mommifying.)

This page came to its septuple-acrostic form because after I decided to acrosticize “Letter Getter” the question “WHICH letters?” naturally came up. “ALL of them” was the natural answer. I have a strong feeling that I am the first person to present the alphabet in the same letter-grouping as the childhood song (when viewed as columns) in a quintuple-acrostic segment of a septuple-acrostic array. (I have a stronger feeling that a Hill of Beans is more valuable, and more nourishing.)

This array is sufficiently Procrustean as to challenge internal meaningfulness. Behold the words, without their acrostic emphasis:

Less apprenticeship for THUGS–quiescently we beg
Egoed Bums jk us; if we squawk then we renege
Trade yr old CDs for link–reserve your flexy tat
Telemarketers harumph & praise your sexy fat
E-Z, friend–I know a Goddess–curvy & azure
Righteous/graceful–pops–but to bereave a grizzly? Grr

Meter’s pretty good, rhyme OK, but the content is both like a dilirium dream and an opera singer not quite hitting the high note–or so it seems at first blush (it is only a few hours old).

This is not my first foray into sequential alphabetization. I leave you with this sonnet, done over four years ago, with the single acrostic “Alphabet Soup” and managing to get A through Z in order by the final couplet. Cheers!

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I am writing directly to my computer screen, and you are reading it slightly-to-much later, in part thanks to Samuel F. B. Morse, inventor of Morse Code and pioneer of telegraphy. The dot-dash conversion of alphanumerics precursed, and presaged, the zero-one reduction of information used in original machine language, and upon which all computer/systems now depend.

Doing the above page, I wrote the acrostic first. The “Mama” of the acrostic made me think of the Motherboard, so I found a suitable photo source and started to draw one, quickly finding out that it would take me far longer to render an acceptable Motherboard than I had time (every page has a Midnight deadline) or inclination (prefer nudes, portraits, and comic-strip continuity drawing to circuitry illustration). So I faked up some of the Motherboard and calligraphed the label in a homey and quite large font for coverup. I then went whimsical and thought “Mothraboard” and “Bad-A** Mutha, Bored” would be good completative compositional elements. It also tickled me to double my Samuels with the Pulp Fiction incarnation of Samuel L. Jackson.

Lastly: when it comes to Data, we are ALL Babymamas. What you are reading is data I’ve labored to give birth to. Remember me on Mother’s Day! 🙂