#writing #mywork #breakfast
January 9, 2024. Tuesday: 6:34 AM. Mountain Time.

A Bittersweet Breakfast

Oh, dear. I forgot to tell the maid,
I can't eat even a few bites of a
poppy seed muffin.
I get dizzy and fall over asleep.
Darn those poppy seed dreams!
A few drops of honey to sweeten
the bitter brew tea ~
and the bitter brew of life.

Dutch startup Nuwa claims to have invented the world’s most advanced smart pen that writes on plain paper

Nuwa plans to launch the device this March. The Groningen-based company today announced a fresh cash injection of €1.5mn to boost the development of the product, which uses an inbuilt camera system, motion sensors, and algorithms to capture text written on paper.

Nuwa is targeting the product at people who still enjoy writing with a pen and pad, as the device writes on plain paper using regular ink cartridges. So, it is a fully normal writing experience.

To digitise the text, the system uses three tiny cameras with 2mm x 2mm sensors. All the data is then processed directly on the device. It exports to PDF, SVG and more formats will be announced.

So, like my previous post today, many will wonder where the data goes. Does is export directly from the local device/app to where you want it, or is someone watching the cameras? If I point my pen at someone, will it take spy photos? We’ll probably only know more of this detail after the device has been released and tested by others.

Their website’s privacy policy does though state that they collect and process personal information in strict compliance with Dutch law (i.e. EU laws). This is stated as personal sales and contact information, not the data that you produce with the device.

But with its normal price being US$373 it’s possible also that it pays for itself through the sale of the device, and not the sale of the data.

The Nuwa Pen does not require a subscription to work. However, the optional subscription (priced at $2.99/month) covers the costs associated with advanced features like Augmented Notes and Text Conversion, and this will likely require data to be passed to a cloud service for processing. So, it’s important to note that what you are getting locally is merely a digital scan of what is written. The subscription cost covers any conversion to text.

See https://thenextweb.com/news/newa-pen-smart-pen-launch-march
#Blog, #gadget, #technology, #writing

#france #vintage #photography #writing #mywork
Photograph: Paris, France. 1925

Grief
Grief is when love had no place to go ~
but sometimes it roams around in old Paris.

#writing #photography
January 7, 2024; Sunday

Falling in love..
No! No!
Sprouting wings ~
Before I crash and burn.

#doodle #writing #mywork
**Doodle in Pink*
Paper Shedding. I noticed this doodle on a sheet of paper where I had been scribbling the raw basis of a poem. I cut it out.
Scribbled.
"I know it is all a big, impossible mess. I get headaches trying to figure out what to do. I walk the floor over you. I can't sleep.
I'm a wreck. I can't shake the feeling. It's still a big shock to me that you even exist!! I would know you in the blink of an eye. It has shaken me to the core, and I've had to rethink all that I've thought about most everything."

No telling what that turned into, or what year it was. Hhahaha! Some things are just better left to myself. But first I have to begin with strong thoughts and feelings. Then, get it down, and get it down, to clear thoughts, with a feeling, then there's the spelling and grammar.

#writing #mywork

FAULT-LINE
I was in Germany and it rained,
and rained and rained and flooded.
It's still raining.
I swam to Japan.
Then I swan from Japan to China.
There was an earthquake in China.
I swam back to Japan.
I looked at a map and stopped by Australia ~
I wondered what Tectonic Plate was under Australia.
I swam to America to a desert in the mountains.
I'm sitting on an earthquake fault line.
On Sunday I read Revelations, about wars and earthquakes.
On Monday there was an earthquake in Japan.

#trains #writing #mywork

**Train People*
There are Train People, and then there’s everyone else.
From a thousand miles away ~
Train People can hear a whistle blow, and know it's time
to pack up and go.*

#writing #mywork
December 27, 2023
LOST DREAM

Excuse me. I’m looking for my Sweet Dream. I woke up and it’s gone.
I went back to sleep, and searched everywhere for it.
There’s nothing left behind, not even a slim thread of hope.
Now, I’m in The Land of Lost Dreams.
Well, I’ve lost dreams before. I’ve lost everything before -
except my life, and angels who watch over me…
I’ve started over again, with nothing but a cardboard box ~
with a few things inside of it.
Then, I lost the cardboard box.

#weather #photography #writing
December 21, 2023

Weather or Not
*Over the mountains
and across the sea~
Thinking of you ~
in the rain, sunshine
and when it’s windy.

Here, there is nothing,
only little leaves dropping dead.
They fall from City, designer trees.
They lie still where they landed.

#diaspora #writing #mywork
DIASPORA
Inherited Lands and People

I'm alone but I walk with a multitude of relatives.
There’s a light streak in my hair.
I’ve inherited the trait from my French grandfather.

It was passed down to all his children, and to me,
from my mother. I also walk with her feet.
But not in her footsteps.

From old photographs and records I see that
I’m a combinations of many family lines and races.
French, English, Irish, Hebrew and an ancient
Scottish line that goes back centuries.
Even Scythian warriors who roamed the
Mediterranean Sea and conquered lands.
In dreams I’m aiming and shooting arrows.

Before the American Revolution in 1765,
during the African Slave Trade era in America,
a North Carolina plantation slave owner fathered
a boy child with a slave woman.
That boy child and his mother are also my relatives.

My skin is lily white, my eyes are green,
but I have inherited some African ways from long ago.
There’s an African way of ‘sharing’ within me.
I love and feel music that Africans have created.

I can endure hard, physical and mental labor,
and being treated badly.
I can endure difficult circumstances in life.
Even so, gentlemen open doors for me as if I were a queen.

My spirit and I are not crushed.
When I come to you, I don’t arrive alone.
I bring all my relatives and their lands with me.
You bring all of your inherited lands and people with you.
We’re a crowd!! How wonderful!
Let’s smile, kiss and hug, and dance.

#writing #mywork
December 19, 2023

Something New and Interesting

Oh. I know.

If we lived together, day in and day out ~
You would soon grow tired and bored with me.
You would think, "Is this all there is?"
Never satisfied. Never satisfied with what you have.
Solomon had seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines.
They led him astray.
I'm not about to jump through circus rings of fire
to keep you entertained.

You would go out in search of someone new and interesting.
I would watch you walk out the door.
Then, I would turn around three times in the living room
and transform myself.
In a flash, I would be where you go.
You would think. "Oh! What is this!!"
"She looks like something new and interesting."

#music #nickcave #writing #mywork
December 19, 2023

The Beautiful Song

I no longer have feelings for him associated with the song.
I thought the day would never arrive.
What remains is the beautiful song ~
It plays in my mind.
I can listen to it now without heartbreak and pain.
It's not him calling to me.
It's wonderful to know there is a man who could write
and sing such an overwhelming, everlasting, beautiful song.
I break down in tears.

INTO MY ARMS
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LnHoqHscTKE

Kathy Acker Masturbated Here

https://lareviewofbooks.org/short-takes/skelley-launch-mcbride-nersessian/

#books #writing #literature

Kathy Acker Masturbated Here | Los Angeles Review of Books

For Jack Skelley, Kathy Acker was a writer who both masterfully baited and masturbated, occasionally at the same time....

Epistle Six

The deportment placed to another rounding caretaker, six word’s demanding to a homogeneous remark, those gems remembered to trade in on genealogy, flickered them by retaining the port of destination. The rifle were to be exclaimed in documentations, geisha mouse wrote on his behalf, the bailment whispered its due by date, declaration founded a earthly incumbent latitude, disarmed the seventh epistle. Built the fencing longitude, made redundant by land fall and pastural tenure, mapping to the enclosure, a brief Terra Firma made to, by opposing husbandry, one by pastural the other, an unofficial capital ranger.

Those rangers were inaccurate, to the saddled copywriters rider, gold had no fiat currency, it reflected on their travellers wagon, stagecoach class, the ministerial codes were stockpersons, they tutorially guild. The wetnurses conveyed there story time, occupational lands of indebted humanities, procedures were to outlast the the recoiling hardship, depressions inclination toward rebuilding churches of patronage. The shipment stated no entitlements, the ranges, freehold to supersede infirmary, they quietly knighted their kin, fostered a seafaring return of gold.

On the marketplace, italic hands, plans to shire inlets of post drawn colonial carts, the introduction of a shared accommodation, the recommend of a affluent signage. Post induction a sharpshooter, the market placed no return by his repeated recoil, the costly life of a balanced inherent, they drove the rabbit to the fielding proxy; an ask was articulated for the fauna, the rabbits tenure as landfall, remained to a dramatic clergy, the envelope denied a plausible bibliophile a letter of intention, they refuted a referendum, to the Monsieur a token third social movement. Progressive #writing ©

Cinnamon
They heavy handed the spider a redback, shale splayed to ground the effervescent purr, those flowers came swollen with silvery cinnamon. Compilation mapped to have love for another placement, the flower, to reside in conversions of temporal eternity, corollary exemplar of a lusty posey, fragments of golden ailment, those prints lasted the game, we were recovery beings of torment.

Cinnamon was reminded to have gifted, in chase of afterthoughts, they ate the ageless shale platter, we drove to the nearest vendor, recalled how our lies did not shape out the silvery wrapper, could only have one, if they awoke. Tasted of gratuitous hunger, the expulsing soldier unarmed his intentions, recollected there were no charge, the night played many unmatched words. They offered after my meagre exposure to alight, gifted them you, seeing the damage of tasting cinnamon, cloves or the rasping plight of interjection.

The roomy hall, hallowed to entries where I were to protest, winter made by the historians conscription, it had a place forgone, to remote the pending, saturated syringe viable, depressions the paint of decibels felled. The rounding plate contoured those missing years, the kids livery to a heiress, winters solitude to my caressing effervescent cavernous creator, Sanskrit wrote to my prescript, describing to the letters of intent. Progressive #writing

#ocean #photography #writing #mywork

Shark Bite

Sharks. Sharks everywhere. Doing what sharks do.
It's nothing personal. You're just Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner.
No playing around.
The scary part is looking into their cold, dead eyes,
and how their eyes will roll back when they're about to bite.
It's their expression of the extreme pleasure they're about to enjoy.

#writing #mywork
December 14, 2023

SURE ROAD

Oh. Dear Ones, I know it takes a long time to grow up.
You’ll walk down roads that end up at a Dead End.
For one reason or another, you’ll go down another side road.
You’ll stop in your tracks and turn around.
“This is not for me”
There’s no point in going down that road for the rest of your life.

On other side roads you’re curious, adventurous, exploring,
bored, disgusted, angry or rebellious.
But you’ll stop. "Where am I?’’
Lost, is where you are. A terrible and stressful situation.
If you haven’t gone too far, you can turn around.
Otherwise, 'Welcome to the ‘Land of The Lost and Confused.’

Eventually, if you’re fortunate, you’ll find your own
Sure Road.
“Ahhh! Yes! This is it! I know it!.”
I hope on this day, you’ll realize your Sure Road.
For the sake of your eternal soul, and all those your life will touch,
may it be a good one.
But remember, Dear Ones ~ it takes a long time to grow up.

Epistle 5

Geisha mouse, studio five, demonstrated the very fiscal allowance for eternal youth. Recovery neck ties, instituted the rounding affability, mediocrity contain all the recommendations of existence; fodder the fashion of winter’s sister, letters to the silk road, and Nepal’s cat watch. The catch was my insistence to recommend folly by fail, to rebuild in inherent betrothment, an manufacture the distance they were about to betray. To relive their livelihood, familiar to presenting a future bound by a idolatry, Geisha mouse did not shape to their removal, the very timeline, denying there spectrum of well-being.

The courtship become sanitised to egalitarian welfare, they acknowledged with restraint, production were the very time they had invested in readvising the singularity of a wealth. Their proviso became my existence, swept the pools at the academy, their timeline had been screened in acceptance popcorn, inviting the mediocrity to my symbolic welfare, the war resumed without a locality of response.

The title pages no meaning, those word’s, they read many booklets by the handful, curious names of itemizing studio five; we love the wintery skies, shelter is a kindred spirt, chimera is the baseless fools gold, affirmation on monetarised our selected visionary. Carbon isn’t collected unless warm night airs are priority, shelved the rentals land my responsibility, wagered the homeless manufacturers, a city of intellectual property, resold on the affable table. His insistence of oligarch and chimera, the residing chairperson, guttural to the affirming winter, built the rescue story to rebuild Nepals upkeep.

Those words dissolved my tongue, a word I hadn’t used from spite, my adolescence did not qualify them, the shawls remittent auxiliary, brought the seasons to an end, Winter’s words were to the shallow aging grace. Brothers placing, to the daughter he remember having, a sister to the very sentence you claimed impenetrable, those words wager, resided to, buildings of ‘studio five’, the impending entitles, awash with a love for another historian. Progressive #writing ©

Epistle IV

Geisha Mouse and I have a slice of timely winter, the introverted world, temporal to the creative escarpment, fissures of composite time. Infant tresses branches to the thoroughfare of esteem, pointless to the exposure of foundation, they infinitely refute a brotherly ideology, everyone has one. Cast the cool climate-clarity, abundant expressionistic wares, fashioned to a melody inclined to graduated pearls, imperfection forwarded to have an to vale with Shakespeare’s sister. Wrote to a whim, succeeded by surpassing the count, one isn’t less, unless one counts to the nomenclature of distance.

Poetry word’s yourself abundant, you save self, reliant for more accreditation. Spring as beautiful, when those flowers are left for Autumns disclosure, as you have the example in reflecting stream. Deconstruction calculates the exposure, you have before my countenance, see the inversion to climb a combatant year, adolescence is spoken of, reliant on finding a gratitude to a graceful brother, you never spoke of.

Remembrance is disarming the courage gifted of you, finding inequality as the bereavement to contemplation surpasses the distance. Shakespeare’s WiFi is nearer the youth of his combatant soul, my recollect of him in recollecting our world, an impostor for your privilege. The very estate made possible by captivating, a marital princess, your Queen’s second land.

The world minded to a non de plume patronage, as the language propagated a surpassing rendition, social escorts, chambers of weed and numerical prisms, she booked in unaware of hard currency. Plagiarism allied to have withstood the scoured earth, gemology was my curious fascination, sounded out by a capital stayover, the world reappeared thoughtful. She new not to cry, they only fret to reapply solitude, the innocuous midnight hour swallowed the evening stars, a brother of patronage aged to his futures dreams.

Winter lasted those warm wares of knitting, the stayover decayed a tenth of her occupation, they composited their outsourced time of fondly gems, apparel to a lustful conscience. The conjecting contact made him factious to conjuring up explanations, then the metrics recovered his thought, pattered, symbolic, myopic renders. There was no injustice, reward came by the princely sum of interjection, more the validation, showing the intermit loss of familiarity. Progressive #writing ©

Epistle IV

Geisha Mouse and I have a slice of timely winter, the introverted world, temporal to the creative escarpment, fissures of composite time. Infant tresses branches to the thoroughfare of esteem, poin…

winter

Geisha Mouse and I have a slice of timely winter, the introverted world, temporal to the creative escarpment, fissures of composite time. Infant tresses branches to the thoroughfare of esteem, pointless to the exposure of foundation, they infinitely refute a brotherly ideology, everyone has one. Cast the cool climate-clarity, abundant expressionistic wares, fashioned to a melody inclined to graduated pearls, imperfection forwarded to have an to vale with Shakespeare’s sister.

Wrote to a whim, succeeded by surpassing the count, one isn’t less, unless one counts to the nomenclature of distance.
Poetry word’s yourself abundant, you save self, reliant for more accreditation. Spring as beautiful, when those flowers are left for Autumns disclosure, as you have the example in reflecting stream. Deconstruction calculates the exposure, you have before my countenance, see the inversion to climb a combatant year, adolescence is spoken of, reliant on finding a gratitude to a graceful brother, you never spoke of.

Remembrance is disarming the courage gifted of you, finding inequality as the bereavement to contemplation surpasses the distance. Shakespeare’s WiFi is nearer the youth of his combatant soul, my recollect of him in recollecting our world, an impostor for your privilege. The very estate made possible by captivating, a marital princess, your Queen’s second land. © progressive #writing