Babelfishing Poetry: "Matt's Dull Rusty Idols"


Hello? How are you?  Hope you're very well, fine, and dandy.  All week I have been not-so-dandily coping with a lot of noise from the demolition of an abandoned storage facility right outside my window, giving me a ringside seat for the action.  Construction hours begin before I wake up, so I got myself a set of earplugs for the duration.  While I enjoy the (relative) silence, let's enjoy some Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, rearrange the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.

This week we listen to the old vaudeville and music hall song "Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay" (see the alternate schoolkid version here; listen to the Robert De Cormier Singers and Ensemble perform the song here, or listen to a Wurlitzer carousel organ playing the song here, or listen to Gene Krupa and his orchestra's swingin' arrangement here, or listen to a sprightly rendition on recorder here).  Enjoy. 


Matt's Dull Rusty Idols

The second night, a nice girl,
the Inflammation Association Queen.
His new favorite containers.

I heard Q.T. is hard.
I'm too old for me, too.

Something bold yet timid,
like you want to save it.
I would say we want to practice.

RA indicates that hotel, which Zhuang!
Ra Consulate thrive, and the device!
Ra Consulate to flourish, and the device!
RA Consulate thriving device!
RA fan, consular office!
Ra Japanese shipbuilding industry cooperation affairs reserved!
RA Consulate to thrive, and equipment!
And RA de Ta thrive!

Fine D la boom, our US Consulate.
No class today.
Die.
Denmark, from Matt's dull rusty idols!
Only the Gulf State will throw us.

They come, the fear of bixha'dibah!
Then I could stop him
to ferment cabbage, man-smell!


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Monday Movies: Stowit Demolition Day 2 Chomp 1


Monday Movies: 20 seconds (more or less) of video from the world around me.

This week: Twenty-two seconds of the chomping machine tearing down the abandoned storage facility next to me in preparation for putting up a new apartment complex.  Enjoy.




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Babelfishing Poetry: "Like 1 Million Gas Bees"


Oh hey, once again it's time for more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, randomize the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.

This week it's The Kinks' lovely classic song "Waterloo Sunset" (listen to song here).  Enjoy. 


Like 1 Million Gas Bees

Those old dirty lists of the virtues of the river.
During the night,
those who are very busy and a little dizzy
light shiny glossy buses.
But you're not my friend; leave the mistrust and snakes.

It seems all I see the sunset arms,
long flowers
every day in the world.
But the cold, cold night,
waterloo sunset.

Telizhuli, Windows station ran
every Friday night.
But a lazy man, I did not want to wander
home to face arms and reward him.
But, trembling, my car.
It seems all I see the sunset arms,
long flowers.

We have fossils of Windows around different people, like 1 million gas bees.
But with the lecture of Telizhuli, defensively,
where do I dry them?
My friend, a snake is not your leave.
A lot of money from all the sunset
in heaven.


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Baylands


On Saturday D. and I went back the Baylands because it was close and it was a beautiful autumn day, and I took some more pics of stuff.


Looking across the salt marsh toward the Pole Field at Byxbee Park.





More salt marsh.





A coot in Mayfield Slough.





Marsh Front Trail.





Mayfield Slough.







Some of the small planes approaching nearby Palo Alto Airport.









Pickleweed turns red in autumn.





Sow thistle floof.





Autumn grasses in the marsh.





Chicory is still in bloom.




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Monday Movies: Baylands Boardwalk 3


Monday Movies: 20 seconds (more or less) of video from the world around me.

This week: Twenty more seconds of rolling down the refurbished boardwalk at the Baylands nature preserve, stuck behind the same group of slow-pokey lookie-loos as the previous video, shot from my wheelchair footrest's point of view.  Enjoy.




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Babelfishing Poetry: "Donkeys In The Engine Room"


Hello, lovely to see you, so glad you've popped by my unpretentious little blog (are you surprised I'm still blogging and haven't made the move to Tumblr or Instagram yet? So am I! I guess I'm just old skool!). Hope you had a happy Halloween.  While you are enjoying any leftover candy, let's enjoy some more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, poke and prod the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.

This week's song, chosen at random, is the Grateful Dead's "Estimated Prophet" (listen to song here).  Enjoy. 


Donkeys In The Engine Room

Each day is not the time to come, no.
Don't worry, I am not a few of the many that come to what they had taught.
Slowly but surely, every day like the rest of the time it is found.
But he came to talk to me about things; I think he directed the Big Bang.

No, not as accomplished. No, no, don't worry about it; I am.
Where is the or?
I don't know, but he soon.

California. Fire prophet.
California. Gold and hammer.
Like angels, but the window.
And shining heaven and Earth so long, you know.

Why do you want to sleep? I am, I believe.
The voice and I had to see you.
The beach and the sea, and donkeys in the engine room.
Kronos! Heaven and Earth! Wheel fire!

It has all the road years ago, and with honor we followed this road, central, Lowell,
sharp with a bleeding!
Talking rain, Kronos, Heaven and Earth with fire,
when both were cast road and the popular name years ago, large, strong, and with honor.


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Monday Movies: Baylands Boardwalk 2


Monday Movies: 20 seconds (more or less) of video from the world around me.

This week: Twenty more seconds of rolling down the refurbished boardwalk at the Baylands nature preserve, shot from my wheelchair footrest's point of view.  (Sorry about the sound, it's very windy there.) Enjoy.




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Babelfishing Poetry: "Looking For Abumenation"


Hello!  And how are you lovely bloggity people today?  Great, I hope.  I myself am finally breathing a sigh of relief, as D. had his hip replacement surgery yesterday and is resting comfortably in the hospital.  He has a few weeks of recuperation ahead of him, but the years of horrible hip pain are over at last.  So to celebrate, let's enjoy some more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, play around with the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.

This weeks it's Bruce Springsteen's song about vulnerability and loyalty, "Tougher Than The Rest" (listen to song here).  Enjoy. 


Looking For Abumenation

Star Season VI.
It's clean.

In an instant he saw;
maybe he looked at me.

The man ran away
from the Pegos Line to the human heart.

Stray girl or the sky,
looking for abumenation.

You are a house, lost by Barcelona.

The child is closed.
I learned the science of what I found.

The road is dark and sleek and fine.

Chewing, chewing.
I hate it.

The Bible and the serpent do not remind us.

The secret is,
I often find it.
Millibars unselfish.
He has a serial designation.

Prognosis, owned by
the ability to be divided, the ability to possess, and honey.


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Baylands


On Sunday D. and I visited the Baylands, and here are some of the pics I took.


A view of the salt marsh at the edge of San Francisco Bay.





It's high tide.





A Pilatus plane approaches nearby Palo Alto Airport to land.





A golden-crowned sparrow perches in a gumplant in search of insects to eat.





Sage seed heads are like abstract sculptures.





A couple of views of Mayfield Slough.







A turkey vulture soars overhead.





Saltbush leaves catch the late afternoon sunlight.





Saltbush flowers are brilliant crimson.





Two more small planes come in to land at the airport, a Quest Kodiak and a Cessna Skyhawk.







Black-necked stilts and gulls hang out in the slough.




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Monday Movies: Baylands Boardwalk 1


Monday Movies: 20 seconds (more or less) of video from the world around me.

This week: Twenty seconds of rolling down the refurbished boardwalk over the salt marsh at the Baylands nature preserve, shot from my wheelchair footrest's point of view.  Enjoy.




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Babelfishing Poetry: "This Rain Tiptoes"


Hello! Lovely to see you, thank you for stopping by, and woo-hoo, it's Friday already.  Hooray!  Let's kick off the weekend with some Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, nudge the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.

This week's Babelfished song is Jimmy Cliff's "I Can See Clearly Now" (listen to Cliff's version of the song here, or listen to Johnny Nash's original version here, or listen to Petula Clark sing it here, or listen to punk-rockers Screeching Weasel perform it here).  Enjoy. 


This Rain Tiptoes

Like it?  Our Thompson's is
rain ownership, and only people with disabilities.
No more blind form in the dark.
He's a bright light,
the sunny clearing.

Oh, yes, I have seen the anguish to come.
Consulting loss, sense trivializing
from rainbow to the spirit.
Other light is a light.
Sanyo.

However, in heaven and Earth or around the green blinds,
what I never do is forward the whole heaven and Earth green and his story.

This rain tiptoes, and private,
only into the barrier,
blindly above dark, o Muhammad.
He has a bright light,
clear sunlight.


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Byxbee Park 


Because Sunday was such a beautiful fall day (and because this may be our last chance to enjoy such a lovely day prior to his hip replacement surgery), D. and I got out of the house and visited Byxbee Park.  Here are some of the pics I took.


Someone dumped a mess of snack food on the ground at the edge of the parking lot.





The view across the marsh toward the Bay.





Heading up the trail.





The movement of the Windwave sculpture traces the movement of the waves in the water of the Bay.





We are under the flight path for Palo Alto Airport and see lots of small planes coming in to land.








Coyote brush is full of floofy seed heads.





A look down Mayfield Slough.





Not all air traffic overhead is small planes.  A Korean Air 777 heads toward San Francisco International to land.





A northern harrier cruises over the hillsides, relying on its sense of hearing to find small rodents, rabbits and songbirds to eat.







Milk thistle floof.





A small gopher snake lies on the trail, probably dropped by a hawk that had caught it.





More small planes heading toward the airport.







A shoveler duck in Mayfield Slough, and an American wigeon in the slough.







White pelicans in Mayfield Slough.





Unlike their cousins the brown pelicans, white pelicans do not dive to catch fish, but instead swim in small circles to corral fish between them.







The dried seed heads of sage line the trail next to the marsh.




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Monday Movies: Evelyn Rain 3


Monday Movies: 20 seconds (more or less) of video from the world around me.

This week: Twenty-one more seconds of the traffic on my street during a rainy day last month.  Enjoy.




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Babelfishing Poetry: "Wait, Isato"


Hello! Would you like to see some more Babelfishing Poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, modify the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem?  You would?  Well, you're in luck, because here it is!

This week it's indie rockers Band Of Horses, and "Is There A Ghost" (watch video here).  Enjoy. 


Wait, Isato

I cannot sleep.

He can sleep.

Sleeping.
Sleepless.

Reward?
Stay home.

I can't sleep.
He can sleep.

My impossible sleep.
I, consulting, asleep.

Encouragement.
Waiting house.
Pay for the report.

Wait, Isato,
at his house.


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