Dear Friends, I have simplified the true story of
the Grand Canyon of Arizona by leaving out the
plethora of scientific details, & the various theories
of scholars about its formation! Presenting here the
more popular version for your kind appreciation!
Therefore, I have used only a part of my Notes on
the subject. Kindly don’t forget to read Part Two
later, for the total story. No need to comment in
a hurry! Thanks, -Raj.

STORY OF THE GRAND CANYON IN
VERSE : PART ONE- BY RAJ NANDY

              BACKGROUND
Our unique planet earth on which we reside,
Remains restless and dynamic, which in its
bowels it hides!
Titanic forces have been at work since our planets
formation; (App. 4.5 billion years ago)
Tectonic plates collided shaping continents,
along with quakes and volcanic eruptions!
Mighty glaciers had formed and receded, while
forces of nature did shape,
When mighty Himalayas and the Rockies rose
up, as we see them on date!
Several species evolved and of multifarious kind,
Leaving a trail of geological mysteries behind!
Geologists have tried to figure out what caused
the rugged Rockies to rise,
From miles below the surface of the earth,
stretching across 3000 miles;
Across New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming and
Montana, all the way up into North Canada;
To become the longest mountain chain of
North America!
The Geologists speculate that the heavier
Pacific Oceanic Plate, had moved northwest
under the North American Plate;
And as a result of this geological seduction
and embrace,
A split had opened up in the American West!
Such mountain building activity or ‘Orogeny’,
Had occurred in several phases during Earth’s
evolving history!
But mostly it occurred during the ‘Age of the
Dinosaurs’ in the Mesozoic Age,
Around 100 to 200 million years hence!
Now cutting across million years of Geological
History,
I come to the Colorado Plateau to commence
my Grand Canyon Story!

THE COLORADO PLATEAU
The awesome forces which raised the Rocky
Mountain Chains, also raised the Colorado
Plateau at a later time once again!
But during the Plateau’s gradual rise there was
surprisingly no devastation,
As the well preserved sedimentary layers rose
up with the Plateau without deformation!
Like an elevator traveling upwards this Plateau
gradually rose,
Along with its several embedded rock layers,
with which it was composed!
The Plateau is scattered over an area of some
1300,000 square mile as we know;
Going clockwise it covers Arizona, Utah, Colorado,
and the State of New Mexico!
Within this rugged area are located the Grand
Canyon, Grand Staircase, Bryce and Zion Canyon,
Arches, National Bridges, Monument Valley,
Glen Canyon, and Lake Powell.
It was Major John Wesley Powell a Geologist,
a brave solder and an explorer,
Who during the 19th century had mapped the
entire Grand Canyon area;
By sailing down the treacherous rapid infested
and uncharted Colorado River!
During the American Civil War Powell’s right
hand was amputated,
God bless his soul for the work he had initiated!
(The area from Bryce Canyon down to the Grand Canyon
is referred to as the ‘Grand Staircase’ due to the existing
land features!)

THE SOUTHERN RIM OF THE PLATEAU
Standing near the edge of more easily accessible
Southern Rim, one gets captivated by the sculptured
beauty and brilliant colors of sedimentary rock layers;
Which also captivated the imagination of tourists,
geologists, painters and explorers!
Geologists have opined, that till 80 million years, this
area was inundated by the Sea several times;
By dating the limestone and marine fossils on the
top Kaibab Limestone Layer they now find!
The lowest rock basement of this Plateau the
Vishnu Schist, dated as a third of our Earth’s
total age, still exists! (Dated as 1.5 billion years.)
Yet the dominant color of the layers of the
Canyon is of a reddish kind,
Due to iron deposits in the layers that we find!
Standing on the edge of the Southern Rim one
is struck by the grand panoramic view and its
macro immensity !
Gazing into a 1500 meter deep gorge carved into
nearby horizontal sedimentary rocks, - a stark
reality,
Where Man becomes aware of his own micro
fragility!
These layers were deposited 500 million years ago,
Prior to the elevation of the Colorado Plateau!
Viewing this testament to Nature’s magnificence,
Man loses himself for a while, to become transfixed
in space and time!
Though there are other deeper canyons in this
world we know, but none are more impressive
or grander;
So Major Powell named it the ‘Grand Canyon’,
which had also made him to wonder!

GRAND CANYON AND THE COLORADO RIVER
The Grand Canyon stretches from Lake Powell near
Utah-Arizona boarder right up to Lake Mead,
Is around 277 miles long with a max width of 18 miles,
and a max depth of around 6000 feet!
The Canyon proper is located in the northwestern
portion of Arizona, in the midst of the Grand Canyon
National Park,
Where the Colorado River bisects this Park into
Northern and Southern halves!
The Northern Rim is a 1000 feet higher and is ideal
for rafters, trekkers, and cliff climbers.
The better connected South Rim has around 5 million
visitors annually!
But the affluent few with lesser time, visit the glass-
bottom horseshoe shaped ‘Skywalk’ in the western
section, in Hualapai Indian Reservation territory!

             CONCLUDING PART ONE :
The question that intrigue Geologists and the visitors
alike, is how the Colorado River did shape,
The mighty Canyon through this great depth?
Before giving you the answer in Part Two
I must pause here to quote,
Lines from the poem “Grand Canyon” which
Lisa A Williams once wrote; -
“I look to the depths far, far below,
To crevices and caverns formed long ago.
To twisting trails, ledges steep,
Winding rivers with pools so deep! ..........
Cascades of color with each sunrise,
Golden walls with lavender hues,
Shades of pink and smoky blues.
Rainbows of stone, dance in fading light,
Lengthening shadows, with approaching
night . …………….
A brush in hand the painter can see,
The miracle of nature and all it can be.
Trying to capture the beauty of age,
Seems impossible with human gauge!
So much to take in, the eyes try to behold,
An ancient image of creation so bold.
Formed by ice and melting snow,
An artist’s canvas sketched long ago!”
-  by Lisa A Williams.

Dear readers, later in the second part of this
story,
I shall conclude by telling you how the
Colorado River in all its pristine glory,
Carved out this vast Canyon through million
years of our Earth’s History!
Part two will be posted later after a break
surely,
Thanks for reading patiently, from Raj Nandy
of New Delhi.
*ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR ONLY

Today I learned
That rocks are more likely
To break along preexisting fractures
Even if you fill the cracks
When under pressure
They fail along those same fracture lines

I think that is how heart breaks work
When your heart breaks
And leaves an empty space
You may be able to fill it in
But it doesn't take much
To open that hole again

There used to be spaces
Between falling asleep and waking up
Spaces without emotional gravity
Where it gets hard to breathe, and I am turned inside out

There used to be spaces
Between pale fingers and heavy shoulders
Spaces cold with longing
For a breathing, comforting warmth

Where these spaces used to be
There's now you

Within every weary crevice, your presence flows
Every touch a lingering sediment, filling pieces that were once broken
Fossilizing fragile parts that were once left to die

Where these spaces used to be
There's now you

Patiently holding me through the varying magnitudes of my earthquakes
Silently bearing my uncalled eruptions
So accepting, of my faults and folds

There used to be spaces
Where what was precious to me were only the gemstones I collected

And where these spaces used to be,
There's now you.

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY
OF HISTORY IN VERSE : PART ONE
              BY RAJ NANDY
              INTRODUCTION
The very mention of History brings to mind
many civilizations, its wars, with endless
succession of ruling dynasties and kings;
Its many dates and events, which appear to be
rather dull and boring!
“If history were taught in the form of stories, it
would never be forgotten”, said Rudyard Kipling!
So if a good teacher of History narrates those
events like a story within a broad chronological
frame work,
While skillfully linking the present in light of the
past;
Mentioning both important and lesser known
interesting facts to arouse the interest of his
class; -
History would be better appreciated by us!
Perhaps in its narrowest sense, History may be
viewed only as a chronological succession of
dates and past events!
But let me assure you that History is a dynamic
linear progression, adapting and evolving with
changing times,
As present recedes into the past all the while!
These changes could be environmental, socio-
economic, or political changes faced by mankind.
But we remain as a living part of History all the
while!
Yet while we live through History, we fail to realize
the impact we make upon history and time;
And this is perhaps the very magic and enigma of
History,
Which occasionally lends it a touch of mystery!
Our family album is a record of our history we
create and leave behind at the micro level;
Just as past civilizations have left behind their imprints
in their architecture, statues, literature, and works
of art at the macro level !
History breathes and speaks to us from the distant
past,
If only we could pause to hear its unspoken words,
As the Romantic poet John Keats had once heard!
Keats’  “Ode on a Grecian Urn” composed during
early 19th century, -
Harks back to the Classical Age of Greek History!
Keats waxes eloquent in his description of pastoral
scenes painted on the urn which lies frozen in time;
While Keats leaves behind his exalted and eternal
aesthetic message - ‘Beauty is Truth and Truth
Beauty’, - which shall outlive our mortal time!
So it is with History, like the Grecian urn the past  
remains eternalized in time with its lessons and
stories;
While it beckons us to unravel her mysteries!
For the historian, the architect, the geologist,
the anthropologist, scholars and the artist,
‘’History is a continuous dialogue between
the present and the past’’;
As observed by the English historian and
diplomat EW Carr.
Even though we cannot change the past, we can
surely absorb the lessons it has left behind for us!
The Spanish born American philosopher George
Santayana had said; -
“Those who cannot remember the past are
condemned to repeat it!”
The Dutch philosopher Soren Kierkegaard had
once remarked; -
“Life must be lived forward, but it can only be
understood backward.”
So let us learn from past History to create a
better future for humanity.
For the past gives us a sense of belonging
and an identity;
Since our very roots lie enshrined in History!
By the time you complete reading my entire
composition,
I hope to convert you into a Lover of History
by broadening your perception!

HISTORICAL BACKGROUND OF HISTORY!
Ancient Greece, the cradle of Western Civilization
during the 6th century BC, -
Saw the birth of Philosophy!
Thales of Miletus, Anaximenes, and Anaximander,
from the Greek colony of Ionia on the west coast
of Asia Minor,  (now Turkey)
Broke the previous shackles of all mythical and
superstitious explanations.
With their questioning mind and rational thinking
they sought,  -
To seek the real behind the apparent, and substance
behind the shadow;
By seeking natural and logical reasons for explaining
natural phenomena, -
Free from all previous religious and mythical
interpretations!
Thus, these Milesian School of thinkers in their quest
for truth with their intellectual lust, -
Gave rise to ‘philosophia’, Greek word for ‘love
of truth’, an early birth!
Subsequently, this newly born Greek Philosophy with
its progressive thoughts inspired scientific methods
of inquiry;
Along with Logic, trial by Jury, and the very concept
of Democracy!
The Greeks also inspired Literature, History, Tragedy,
Comedy, the Olympic Games, Astronomy, and Geometry!
Around 500 BC the Greek written script had stabilized,
going from left to right;
And the first addition of vowel letters by the Greeks
to the adopted Phoenician consonants, can never
be denied!
The first two Greek letters ‘alpha’ and ‘beta’ which
gave the name to our Alphabets forms a part of
early History.
Now Herodotus, during the 5th century BC, had
inherited this intellectual Greek Legacy!

HERODOTUS – ‘THE FATHER OF HISTORY’
Herodotus is said to have been born in the ancient
Dorian Greek city of Halicarnassus in south-west
Asia Minor, which is now Turkey;
During the latter half of 5th century BC!
During his days, the city was under the rule of Persia;
Since the Persians had captured the Greek colonies
in Asia Minor!
Frequent revolts by these colonies against the
Persians with help from Athens,
Made the Persian King Darius, and later his son
Xerxes, - decide to invade Athens!
The Persians also wanted to extend their Empire
into Europe across the Bosporus Strait, -
Which divided Asia from Europe in those days!

In 490 BC, when the massive Persian army of King
Darius landed at Marathon as assured victors;
The Athenian running courier Pheidippides ran
150 miles in two days, to seek help from Sparta!
Again later, he ran 25 miles from the battlefield
near Marathon to Athens, to announce that the
Greeks became the final victors!
This historic run by Pheidippides gave rise to the
discipline of Marathon, in our Olympic Games
later on!
Such Marathon runs are now held in many cities
of the world annually,
Thus we remain connected with our past as you
can clearly see!
Years later in 425 BC, Herodotus narrated these
invasions in his famous narrative ‘Histories’.
Cicero the Roman scholar, philosopher and orator,
Had called Herodotus the ‘Father of History’ many
centuries later!
Very little is known about Herodotus’ early life,
But from historical evidence which survive,
We learn about his stay in Athens, and his many
wanderings;
Visiting Egypt, Libya, Syria, Babylon, Susa in Elam,
Lydia, and Phrygia;
Collecting information which he called ‘autopsies’
or ‘personal inquiries’, and hearing many stories;
Prior to composing his famous ‘Histories’!

“THE HISTORIES”: HERODOTUS (430-425BC)
This was written in prose in the Iconic dialect of
Classical Greek,
Covers the background, causes, and events of the
Greco-Persian Wars between 490 and 479 BC.  
Scholars divided the entire work into 9 Books, with
each dedicated to a Greek Muse, - those goddesses
of art and knowledge,
Thereby the Homeric tradition they did acknowledge!
For example, Book-I was dedicated to Calliope, the
Muse of Epic Poetry, and Book-II to Clio, the Muse
of History.
Herodotus begins his narration with these following
words;-
“Here is the account of the inquiry of Herodotus of
Halicarnassus in order that the deeds of men not be
erased by time, and that the great and miraculous
works – both of the Greeks and the barbarians not
go unrecorded.”
Now Herodotus with his lucid narrative style, had
pioneered the writing of History with a specific
framework of space and time!
His style got emulated by later writers of History,
Who improved their narration with better authentic
source and methodology;
Thereby giving birth to the subject of ‘Historiography’.
(Historiography = critical examination of source & selection
of authentic material, synthesis of particulars into a narrative
whole, which shall stand the test of critical methods.)

HERODOTUS’ ‘INQUIRY’ GAVE BIRTH TO ‘HISTORY’!
The ancient Greek word “historia” meant ‘knowledge
acquired by investigation or inquiry’’, and the Greek
‘histore’ meant ‘inquiry’.  
It was in this sense Aristotle later used it in his ‘’Inquires
on Animals’’- during the 4th Century BC;
And this mode of ‘inquiry’ later became ‘History’!
The term ‘History’ entered English language in 1390
as a “record of past incidents and story”.
However, the restriction to the meaning “record of
past events” only, came during the 15th century.
But the German word ‘Geschichte’ even to this day,
Means both history and story, without making
distinction in any way!
Since the story element remains inbuilt in all historical
narrations,
And also remains as a tribute to its author’s creation!
CONCLUDING PORTION WILL BE POSTED LATER AS
PART-TWO. Thanks, - RAJ NANDY.
**ALL COPY RIGHTS WITH THE AUTHOR RAJ NANDY,
OF NEW DELHI

The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes.  The rate of ooze changes?.  Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with *****: practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility.  The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you.  Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and *****, sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications.  I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin.  I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks?  Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx.  Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of  You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost *****, all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business.  While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.

if i thought they were dumb before,


now (after the geologist broke my heart)


i think they're

lethargic,
obtuse,
pointless,
inane,
futile

(boring as ******* hell).



i will now stay away from men in climbing boots.


so, thank you.

People wonder, how can Christ, be all things to everyone?
Without the proper perspective, Truth can be missed.
So carefully consider some ideas presented here,
before these spiritual concepts are mistakenly dismissed.

To the BUILDER, Christ is the Sure Foundation.
To the ARCHITECT, He is the Chief Corner Stone.
To the GEOLOGIST, He is the Rock of Ages.
To the SCULPTOR, He is the Living Stone.

To the STUDENT, Christ is the Incarnate Truth.
To the PHILOSOPHER, He is the Wisdom of God.
To the BANKER, He is the Hidden Treasure.
To the PREACHER, He is the Word of God.

To the DOCTOR, Christ is the Great Physician.
To the SERVANT, He is the Good Master.
To the THEOLOGIAN, He is the Author of our Faith.
To the EDUCATOR, He is the Great Teacher.

To the JEWELER, Christ is the Pearl of Great Price.
To the ARTIST, He is the One Altogether Lovely.
To the HORTICULTURIST, He is the True Vine.
To the FLORIST, He is the Lily of the Valley.

To the STATESMAN, Christ is the Desire of all Nations.
To the CARPENTER, He is the Eternal Door.
To the PHILANTHROPIST, He is the Unspeakable Gift.
To the LAWYER, He is the Lawgiver, Advocate and Counselor.

To the BIOLOGIST, Christ is the Life.
To the ENGINEER, He is the New and Living Way.
To the TOILER, He is the Giver of Rest.
To the SINNER, He is the Lamb Who takes all sin away.

Our Christ is a multi-faceted personality,
Who has something for everyone who comes to Him.
Therefore, we should continue to rejoice in Who He is,
by offering heart-felt praise through songs and hymns.



Author notes
Loosely based on:
Col 1:15-18; 2 Tim 2:19; Eph 2:20; Isa 26:4; 1 Pet 2:4-12;
Matt 28:20; Cor 1:24; John 1:1; Heb 12:2; Jer 17:14; Matt 19:16-17;
John 1:3; Matt 16:13-17; John 3:1-2; Matt 13:45; John 15:1;
SoS 2:1; Hag 2:7; John 10:7; Cor 9:15; James 4:12; 1 John 2:1-2;
Isa 9:6-7; John 14:6; Heb 3:1-4:13; John 1:29

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.


This poem is not meant to serve as an all encompassing list of professions; for example, here are a few more viewpoints not mentioned:

To the BAKER, He is the Living Bread.
To the JUDGE, He is the Righteous Judge of all Men.
To the NEWSPAPER, He is the Good Tidings of Great Joy.
To the OCULIST, He is the Light of the Eyes.
To the SOLDIER, He is the fortress.
To the CHRISTIAN, He is the Son of the Living God, the Savior, the Redeemer and the Lord.

The nation's Capitol rattled and shook.
Washington's monument cracked.
The Nation's Cathedral is minus a spire.
The people cried out for Barrack.
A previously unknown fault line had shifted
causing a crack in basalt
The President paused from his golf game to chat
with his geologist, a man named Walt.
After a lengthy Analysis
down in the Smithsonian's vault
The commander in chief is relieved to report
that this too was Bush's Fault

You are a slow lava flow
hard rock over a
flowing magma heart.

The catch of your breath
feels like a mountain shaking.
You are a calm surface,
a gentle heat,
and every mineral I need.

you may never explode,
but any good geologist would agree
a volcano is the best way to go.

let me die
still studying
the very heart of you,
in 50 years or so.

The nation's Capitol rattled and shook.
Washington's monument cracked.
The Nation's Cathedral is minus a spire.
The people Cried out for Barrack.
A previously unknown fault line had shifted
causing a crack in basalt
The President paused from his golf game to chat
with his geologist, a man named Walt.
After a lengthy Analysis
down in the Smithsonian's vault
The commander in chief is relieved to report
that this too was Bush's Fault.

Ask me about *****
at the Pitcher & Piano
a woman sits angular
snow swirls in her face
the Tundra, a riot, an Izba
or a Romanov's Faberge egg
Lean into this moment
the curve of it's being
like a sail into the wind
or the Bering Strait neatly
amongst Icebergs
Canada
Marylin
The Niagara Falls
a Geologist's contentment
a backpack & a tent
ink& a compass
Omai resplendent

* Izba - a country hut ( russian)
* Omai - Mai, the second pacific Islander to ever visit Britain in the late 1700ds who became popular in London's high society

we are pre-existing pieces of decayed particle mass
eroded bones and ***** tissue deteriorated in between
sediment layer and sand which was once
rocks and crust which will become dirt and dust
we are part of a cycle:
evolve, exist, decay, die, rebirth
isn’t it comforting to know that no matter who
you loose in the physical realm
you gain in the mountain range?
i am of the same consciousness and
compounds of our beloved earth
i am the exoskeleton of prehistoria-millennia  
of bodies cursed with
skin or hide, feathers or scales
my future can only come to fruition
if my past accepts it as a part of it
i can no easier deny myself as myself.
i must first accept myself and bits
and pieces of yesterday
not one individual, but a collective of
energy sources
i am an archive. i am a history book.
i am a geologist. i am space and i am time.
in its never-ending full arc continuum
my purpose in this life is to
accept myself only as a recycled
chain of elements
and i don’t mind sharing wavelengths
with continental crust
and i’ve already come to terms
with my brain becoming dust
and i fall asleep tonight with a happy
heart and mind.
knowing my place in life
and my impression throughout time.

I think I'll go for a walk
To myself I shall mutter and talk
I'll search high and low
And home I'll not go
Till I find the poem I sought

Shocking how the time goes
Like a river it flows and flows
It just disappears
Days become years
Where does it go, do you knows?

He found a rock, the geologist
Whose identity he missed
He thought it was gneiss
But when he looked twice
It was just a piece of schist

They found a bug to eat plastic
Which everyone thought was fantastic
But they started to frown
When their pants fell down
Because it ate the elastic

you will not disregard my ethno-status toward incubating
your failed journlism -
   the 20th century idea of journalism is over,
                     it, has, passed!
                   it's dead in the gutter -
      not now could you report on the world at be
with the fervour, equivalent to, reporting on **** germany...
you fail to recognise the agglomerate of what is still
central europe into your narrative?
                 no... i won't frighten you...
                   i'll just disregard you as
                                         a "respected" authority
that might guide the world to the summary of its own
bidding...
                        i'll have no respect... therefore i will
imply the stratum of: forget them...
   they're talking into their own *****... and i'd rather
keep a **** in my **** from yesterday for *******
it out today, so it's all nice and stone-like...
               so some geologist might come and say:
hmm... well... isn't this interesting.
                        the west isn't a respectible authority...
sure... it can fathom the production of many
trivial things... but apart from that?
                 a **** in a tornado...
              oi! santa! where's that turbine gonna spin
to next?
                 ** ** **!
                        **** on me! he said it's heading west!
the west dictates because it was the only faction
of geo-politics that detonated the atom bomb
and is the only one overly-paranoid about having
done so...
                       well... don't look at me like i'm
some schizophrenic... you're the ones that set it
off on a dry surface... you weren't the french who said:
maybe an aquatic insulator? hmm?
                it just ****** me off that in english press
the poles are still, virtually without an ethnic identity....
people in the west became too used to
the, non-existence of the polish commonwealth...
poles, estonians, latvians, lithuanians, belarusians,
ukranians...
                              it's just called eastern! europe.
it just peeves me...
                             well bang that along with
the welsh sheep-*******,
                                the scot-irish McNuffin',
   and the english?
                                   football or cricket? or both?!
        high tea... by the way... they call dinner
   tea in england, at around 5p.m. -
                           don't know, i thought i might as well
mention it... by 6p.m. they'll be jerking off
                 thinking *** was a thwench "thing"
you do on saturday.
                               they're really big now,
they have uncle sam to take care of,
                                and aunt jill the ausie...
they're big now... but i have them beckoned to be
under the microscope any, time, soon...
                    ah you know... the usual comic stand-up
technique of predictions for the gags...
                            and hand-bags... and stilettos....
transgender?    how about... you begin with
                               transvestite?
                      well... isn't that a weird concept!
you master the art of transgender so that women
     feel wet at the sight of your: exuberance?
                     these days it's a bit like talking
about a ****** with an i.q. of 1-50....
                 smart as ****... albeit dumb as hell -
   that adam's apple gonna disappear before
   i take toward the cognitive fetish of considering
****** you in a dark alley? well...
    the merovingians, the saxons and the hippies
donned long hair...
                 ever see any of them tuck
               their genitals prior to tucking their
protruding larynx?
                            seriously... how about we
perfect being transvestite before attempting,
before actually faking being transgender?
      three names! only three!
eddie izzard...  chloe arden.... blaire white;
i already mentioned that the latter two names
     denotes huskies... my godmother is a huskie...
she has a... deep voice...
                              the three stated names?
trans-                                      -vestite -
                  visage? vestige?
               ****! ooh! what a nice world:
                                        visage-vestige = trans.
          you really can't contemplate faking a "loss"
of gender...
                   oh c'mon p'ooh bear, don't break my heart,
don't make me think there's a thai surprise
                          in store while i fiddle into your
******* and finger out an: oh! ah! oh! ah!
   never mind, i'm still going to be *******
    about the "eastern europe" definition...
               well... as slapping back might sound...
                           i'd just call the west: paddyland.

Things chronicled in shalestone fossils
or superannuated tree rings
can only be read by convinced decipherers.
Disciples of scientific wedges,
the geologist, the dendrologist,
are playwrights of elapsed and extinct
note taking on modern note making gadgets.
Habits only experts in probing
can manage. To convince a tree hugger
that his data, is more evolved upon
a digital device rather than paper,
provides no comfort for fossil record-keeping
stone huggers worried about a valley
of eroding silicon.

I, for one, cannot be concerned for either.
As for a more feasible digital implant
to be splintered under my skin,
to keep track of my where-abouts
is now achievable. I may want one
for my dog or child, but do I want one
for myself?

Will I have a choice?

sometimes, life is suprising....
the orchid I left to die of loneliness
has put forth a new shoot and seeks
the sunshine from the dusty window

my brother's daughter
has taken up residence
in the nannexe and
is exuberantlu adventurous
next weekend she jumps
from a plane, strapped
to a stranger...
this lifestyle is of course
my fault....

my mother enjoys having
her knees massagd by
the big muscle bound attendant
and flirts outrageously with him
(don't have the heart to tell her
he is gay..... a lot of the older women at
the residence also flirt, he takes it all with a
gentle smile)

the tuxedo devon rex has
taken to sleeping in the wok
sometimes with the purlioned
sock stash of the day...

one of the academics, a geologist
a gentle quiet man, steady as they come,
stripped naked before dancing
the charleston in the quad
....he is now under care

as I said sometimes life is suprising
sometimes a little sad

I wanna a be
A wallaby or a

Kangaroo with
Rocket in my pocket

I wanna be
A rock star

Geode geologist
With rocks in my pocket

I wanna be a
Rocket scientist

Collecting rocks
In my solar socket

Satellite delight
Asteroid evidence

Not alone; not unique
God’s sock puppet

/how can you write an Adam & Eve story, with two protruding vowels deemed to be consonants, i.e. ע (ayin) & א (alef)?! teach me, show me at what point you sing the alphabet, and lose the name of a letter, to govern spelling, within the confines of a "borrowed" prefix, and subsequently a suffix / affix... show me! show me why the story doesn't begin and end, with two Adams, i.e. ע & א... your Adam? is my Alef... your Eve? is my Ayin. too bad you gave letters names... since the romans sand their letters in sequence to the vowel-catching tetragrammaton of: ah... gnostics in arabia... the crucifixion of a phantom... ahhal; with regards to the arab play on god | dog...                 ahhal... since not everyone suddenly spent a second's worth on exclaiming a profound: ah... of some sort of realisation pause./

U that isn't you -
        Y - which isn't lower-case
gamma,
    the rhythm solo
on iron maiden's
afraid to shoot strangers...
  might as well call it
a copernican cornerstone
with an el - L -
   hyper-ventilating
reading a compass?
me too...
     and that's a genuine
anti-thespian attitude...
         take on english surds:
notably?
          (g)nome, (g)nostic,
diagnostics!
  left, a mountain
not climbed.
      left no worthwhile
application guiding
archeology, anthropology,
or those missing
worthwhile rubrics of
study...
           as ever, as always:
niche...
            stratum confederatum...
again, pleasing to the eye,
but the maggot tongue says:
a rat's worth remains
in the scuttling enterprise,
hidden,
                bowels above the sea
waves...
            hiding by hanging
with a chime of
               a "lost" history...
         prior to a god,
i'd rather take salt and pepper
to a union with my ancestors...
god or no god...
         built to this mortal
frame...
            with my ancient
architecture of bones...
                no hamlet,
and no grieving scoop of
   words to match-up to this...
as once i felt inclined to
kneel before the mudded plateau,
asking for the plateau to kneel
before me...
          missing, confusion with
the grapheme in
               æ....
         notably in the word:
   pla'h toe...
            "un-writing" english makes
if not manes english as, pure,
  ugly...
                     never trust an egyptian
thinking he's above an arab,
when there's a quran as
evidence...
                            me?! i wouldn't
trust an egyptian with
a ******* brick! who cares
if his mother is iranian...
          that's beside the point!
see the tickling?
                     it's called: nuance.
plateau vs. plato...
            the greeks already had
consonant graphemes,
which are easi34 to digest,
      notably the siamese twins
          bound to F, i.e. Θought
              and Φilosophy...
                        consonant graphemes
are easily applied,
     and most easily represented
in optical terms...
           vowel graphemes?
     not so much...
  easi34? look at the keyboard...
what's below, askew? i.e. \ \ ?
                    E             und             R.
κατ, or כּ‬אט
                      which means:
executioner...
                                 subtle,
   esp. when looking at a cat...
black-clad
                        hangman's
   shadow, penetrated by
                 the sun's mirror that's
the moon at night...
           i wonder...
                what element is riddled
by the moon, that allows it to reflect light?
they never sent a geologist to the moon,
did they?
            thanks for the quote though, neil.

I looked inside the box, opened it and picked up a rock and a stick from inside of it

I know what is inside that box now.

No matter how many times I try to put my hand back inside that box
I will always wind up pulling out a stick and a rock.

Only the first time I reached inside the cardboard box to pull out the stick and the rock was I truly surprised. The next couple of attempts were just denial. I tried it, so I already knew.

What is in the box is not for me. I have no need of a rock or a stick. Now if I found a notebook and a vinyl with a stray leaf then that would be my box.

If I were a geologist and a hiker then the first box would of been for me, but I am not and that is fine.

i see a rock
i see a rock
i see a rock
i see a rock
i see a rock
i see a rock
yes, but the land is different here

and it melted his heart,
from the day he began noticing

he became a detective of the earth
his passion for deducing
those deeper truths.

when he transcended the utilitarian,
he stumbled unintentionally on fortuitous prospects.

he sees through time
in the layers of the earth
and has become his own reason
for examination!

let's all celebrate the geologist

The Imperfectionist looked out of a window. Actually, he looked at the window. Within it's frame a woman appeared. Do I fit, she said. Fit in as you like, he said. But I would prefer you cut some corners. You want corners? How about top left? Bottom right, whatever. Hey, you just want me out of the picture.
That would be picture perfect.

The Imperfectionist sat down and turned on his tv. He concentrated on the sideground images. A war correspondent appeared on the screen. Around him, desert debris, military wrecks, abandoned bodies. Interactive question: what's that rock behind you? Interactive answer: I refer you to the company geologist.  Q: could you do you commentary on the left side of the screen? A: and step onto a roadside bomb? Now that's a perfect scenario.

The Imperfectionist was tired of framed images. He stepped outside and moved like a camera. Straight ahead a young girl approached, eyes glued to her phone. Left of her, a scooter moved onto the sidewalk. Right of her, two women loudly discussed a daughter's dental problems. Above her, a drone whirred. Below her, the pavement showed it's beautiful cracks. Skewz me, I'm looking for... he said. She looked up the address. It's right here, sir. He slapped his forehead. Oh no, that's a perfect disappointment.