I’d Rather Be Dead Than…

Oh I don’t know how
to make a sympathetic death
seem noble

I can not be mourned, because
no one will claim my body
when I’m dead

I think it would be best
if I could be lost at sea
and then the relatives
would have no major

I’ve been thinking
how drowning
would be

But I suppose I
should save for a cruise
and find a Titantic

I’d really prefer that
my death be dramatic
as if I mattered at all.


Unreal is the Dreamy Day

Maybe it’s better to be unreal, ’cause
that’s what dreams are like sometimes, and
my dream-maker uncovers the undercover heart

Where is my secret muse?
I think perhaps…

when I am hot enough,
she will come like
a cool breeze with salve and
a promise to cry out a laugh,
a promise to
fight with pillows and forgiveness,
puffy like a cloud

this vow on rainy days:
a thunderous love
and only a
joyful reign

The Utd’mbts Language for the Belated New Year’s Resolution

I’m Invisible Again While Continuing Linguistics for the Utd’mbts language


    Perhaps I should start with some definitions even though notes usually go at the end. I think what often happens is that the meaning is relatively clear initially but as the contexts drift with many complications, the meaning is lost and there is much confusion.

COMPULSIONS are behaviors that you can inadvertently teach yourself that become habitual when those acts have come to provide relief from anxiety.

OBSESSIONS are meddlesome thoughts, urges, or images, unsought and unwelcome, that spark disturbing feelings.

    Hmm, that’s not very clear. Well, if you’ve developed an obsession with words, you can search for alternate definitions and come back after you’ve gone for a jog, and had a pizza or two. Someone told me that a common underlying thought is: “If I don’t understand the jargon then I must be stupid.”

New Year’s Resolutions Part 2

As I said in Part 1 , there are things to do, but it’s hard when there are no contacts for inspiration.

Eureka! I have found a definition-clue for my invisibility. To name something is the first step in making something tangible or at least to be some sort of energy or existence or entity or some je ne sais quoi on French toast. I am the grand central conceit. Voilà:

“In drama and other art forms, the central conceit of a work of fiction is the underlying fictitious assumption which must be accepted by the audience with suspension of disbelief so the plot may be seen as plausible.”

That’s the secret: I am fictional. If you have no faith in me then I don’t exist. Being in a state of non-existence, it’s hard to have the motivation to complete one’s New Year’s Resolutions.

A Concept Word In the Form of a Story

So back to translating the Utd’mbts language. Most words are relatively short (10 or less letters) but are dense in meaning. The basic word stem (without prefixes or suffixes) is usually defined by 200 or more English words. It can be in the form of a concept or story. The set of English words I am calling an “exemplar page.” Within the page certain key words are identified as parameters so that an example story can be given different characters or objects. In this case it might be said that the Utd’mbts word is the name of a story or parable to be used as a metaphor.

An Interesting Clue for the Formation of an Exemplar Page.

    I was looking for an example in English where metaphors are used in an extended way in story form. I think I have one example.
    I watched

Medium (TV Series)

A Person of Interest (S5 E3)
Episode aired Feb 16, 2009
Director: Patricia Arquette
Writers: Blenn Gordon Caron, Craig Sweeny, Robert Doherty
Original airing: National Broadcasting Company (NBC) TV

and a few days later I realized that it had an interesting prologue. Not all episodes begin that way and I almost missed the first few minutes of the show. Most begin with a psychic nightmare that Alison Dubois has and she screams and wakes up her husband Joe. Sometimes she calls the District Attorney if she has enough information to prevent a crime from happening or provide a clue for one that has already happened. Events in the dream are symbolic and need a lot of interpretation.
    Anyway, this particular prologue was like a lecture on obsessions and compulsions in story form. I’ll paraphrase because I didn’t record it:

As a kid, when you’re first given a cupcake it’s delicious, and you want another one immediately, but you’re told you can only have one. But then you develop a craving for cupcakes that you carry with you. When you pass a bakery, a cupcake has a glow to it, and it calls you. You go into the bakery and buy a dozen. You can’t stop eating until you finish them all. Everywhere you go you’re obsessed with cupcakes — on signs, in store windows, everything that looks like a cupcake, ways of making cupcakes, recipes for cupcakes. The cravings continue until you become morbidly obese [description added here but shown visually]. Even when you know it’s bad for you, you continue to eat. Even when there are negative consequences [visual presentations], you continue to eat until it’s a habit…

    The prologue presentation continues to show how other things can become habits including murder. There’s a series of other metaphors.
    The connecting element is ways of relieving anxiety. I would add that there is a precipitating element or event that brings on anxiety. The unhealthy acts relieve the anxiety by fulfilling an unconscious fantasy solution to a crisis or conflict that has occurred and can never be solved.
    In the episode, the son of a psychopath can never please his Father who treats him harshly. He develops an obsession with using parts from an old microwave to build a heating device and he looks for ways to make a timer. He desperately seeks the love of his Father and finally gets some praise by building the elements of a bomb using the timer, and explains to his Father how he can use fertilizer and gasoline as an explosive.
    The beginning of the prologue is laying out the concept this way I think: Taste of Cupcake –> cravings –> Obsessions –> compulsions –> habits
    The entire prologue can represent a concept. A short word could stand in for the entire show and the underlining concept. For the sake of argument, let’s just say that there is an Utd’mbts word temporarily translated as “S5E3” that means the concepts of the entire show. The parameters vary from cupcakes to a Father’s love or any person’s approval, obsessions from food to bomb parts etc. “S5E3” is the foundation metaphor. Prefixes and suffixes provide the parameters. A fluent speaker of Utd’mbts would have memorized the meaning of the equivalent of “S5E3” as a short Utd’mbts word. 

So Continuing the Project Is Futile

Should I continue to find new words or not? It does seem pointless. No? So you probably have no idea what I’m saying. Right? Do you have a question? Maybe I can answer it or clarify.

Her Poetry Was In The Protest

She Was In the Protest

Many rivers have been crossed since
the water of my sister’s tears did
evaporate, make a cloud, make
many clouds, and did blow away.

Meandering thoughts make
many streams, many screams,
a plethora of dreams lost.

There is a cloud over my head.
It rains on me, and
I rain sorrow because
she could not reign over truth
before the reign of bullets began.

The rain of the cloud
waters crops.

The rains of my eyes
are the grieving waters, and
the drops are like bullets.

Norway poem

Tourist Talk

Hello dear Miss Angrboda?
I’m traveling through Norway
and I have a question for you.

I do not understand
how you prefer
the moose in the mountains
to the man in the moon
or to me, from the look of it.

An aloof façade
is charming but

is there a subway to your love
that I can travel on without
climbing to the stars?

Are there any vacancies
for tonight in your heart
somewhere in Oslo?

I could bring a moose
and champagne.

Climbing Mountains Is Not Always Possible

Climbing Away

While I was in exile,
I spoke to the mountain
expecting an esoteric voice
to thunder an answer to loneliness

Yet, the mountain of tears
shed a river as an answer, but
I had fish in the river to catch, and
they did not speak either.

One day I will return to your house
when the walls no longer have ears
and when I am not so notorious
that you can not speak my name

I will have a song to sing at sunrise
when the executions stop
fools stop squealing
and there are foods
for thought and for stomach,

At high noon, only
the birds will do a chorus for us
and jackals will lie down to hear
stories of a reading lamb

We will eat and
fish for answers,
climb mountains together, and then
I’ll never again hear you say, “go and be well”
and I won’t ever say “goodbye”.

We will be fine
together like
a mountain of love
and our rivers will