he looked so innocent lying there on his cousins daybed fondling her Min Pin

his bright blue eyes and ultra pale skin was alway engaging in Canada but in Sunny California they looked completely out of place

the dog didn't care but his cousin's daughter was an estetition and was drooling to get out her hot wax and go to work on those eyebrows

this was his usual visit

was it a birthday?

it wasn't a usual Holiday

it was a Canadian holiday that allowed him to fly down and get that several times a year sunburn that inevitably blistered and then peeled

you know the kind that made Canadians stand just a little straighter around their cohorts up North

because it signified some extra spending money he'd scraped together and an adventurous spirit on his part

if they only knew

More like this:


antigeekess Jan. 31, 2010 @ 12:47 p.m.


The min pin's in the pic for the other blog entry. Is this the same guy?

Me confyoosed.


CuddleFish Jan. 31, 2010 @ 1:38 p.m.

I'm kinda lost, too, nan. Could you number the posts so I can follow the story? :)


nan shartel Jan. 31, 2010 @ 6:12 p.m.

no it isn't the same pic...but the posts r concurrent...starting from the first one here and moving down


nan shartel Jan. 31, 2010 @ 6:27 p.m.

i will be deleting all of this...mores then pity...i didn't realise i could post it as separate blogs is posted at to different site exactly like my original posting here


CuddleFish Jan. 31, 2010 @ 6:33 p.m.

Hang on, what? Well, don't delete, nan! Maybe if you consolidate all the parts into one thread, or just go back and hit the "edit" and number each thread, so there's no confusion. It's a good story, don't want it gone! :(

Let me know if I can help with anything.


nan shartel Jan. 31, 2010 @ 6:51 p.m.

this is actually the 1st post Cuddles...and i put each post in...19 in all to create a sequential flow......i can't go back and edit the drafts the READER saved for me because they can't find the pages for any of them

they compiled the work...and that's why it doesn't make sense...they didn't keep the sequence correct

all of the work shows up in my drafts as saved post...but i can't get to any of them...and would have to start over and i'm sure The READER would get mad at me again

how embarrassing was that capitalized note they put at the top...GAWD!!!

back to Rats pushing buggies and Reindeer Sox for me i guess

ahhhh well...such it life on the written page

THX Cuddles...for ur kindness


CuddleFish Jan. 31, 2010 @ 8:24 p.m.

Oh my goodness, nan, this is terrible!!! :(


Jay Allen Sanford Jan. 31, 2010 @ 9:14 p.m.

Hey Nan, You could always post the "chapters" in sequence as comments! That way, they'll remain in the order you intended, without filling up 20 different blog slots with only a couple of paragraphs in each slot -


David Dodd Jan. 31, 2010 @ 11:59 p.m.

Yes, Jay's on to something here. Maybe post chapter one as an entry and the other chapters as comments?


CuddleFish Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:08 a.m.

"this is actually the 1st post Cuddles...and i put each post in...19 in all to create a sequential flow......i can't go back and edit the drafts the READER saved for me because they can't find the pages for any of them

they compiled the work...and that's why it doesn't make sense...they didn't keep the sequence correct

all of the work shows up in my drafts as saved post...but i can't get to any of them...and would have to start over and i'm sure The READER would get mad at me again"

My understanding is she can't access the drafts, and admin can't find the pages. Unless she had them saved on her own PC, she may not be able to publish this again. Can you help, jayallen?

So sorry, nan, I was enjoying what I had read so far .... :(


Jay Allen Sanford Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:15 a.m.

Nan said she posted the entries to another website in the correct order, so I assume she still has the text. Nan, why not just post all 19 or 20 entries into one blog? Each entry is only a few sentences - why do you feel the need to give each paragraph a separate blog entry?

You can easily put the whole thing into one blog entry, OR post the opening section and then post 19 comments with the remainder (tho I maintain that just putting every paragraph into a single blog entry is best - a single paragraph does not really constitute a stand-alone blog, let alone 19 of them in a row, each with their own full page containing only a few sentences each).

I'd like to read it all in the correct order myself! But, ideally, since it's already written, all on one page --


MsGrant Feb. 1, 2010 @ 10:19 a.m.

Who cares?!! That picture is worth a thousand words...YUUUUMMYY!!


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:08 p.m.

thx JayAllen...and Cuddles...good ideas..and i have it...Ms Grant ur a nut...hahahahahahahahahahahaha

i think i will try that posting it and 19 comments

...very cool idea

actually this one doesn't even show up one the Blogs list at all...hahahahahaha

do u think that the READER would have a fit if this suddenly showed 19 comments...hahahahahahahaha...+ the ones u've written???


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:08 p.m.

it could be the invisible story blog....hahahahahahaha


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:11 p.m.

chapter 2 Roller..Roller Roller Coaster

roller roller coaster the big one down at the bay the oldest wooden roller coaster left in the US of A that's why he was headed down there and that's why he was getting a hard on just thinkin' 'bout it

yeah that's why

who was he kiddin'???


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:13 p.m.

chapter 3 it wasn't just the bodies

it wasn't just bodies it was certain kinds of bodies he was particular like the shark that skimmed by and never looked twice at the neoprened surfer he had a taste for something different today

ah yes

something different



nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:14 p.m.

chapter 4 bitterly blonde

blonde is the magic blonde is the scheme blonde is the eloquence that dwelled in his dreams

his dark cold ravenous dreams


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:17 p.m.

chapter 5 scratchy vinyl

in the background soft female music lured Kerry loved the old wordsmiths of the 70's

she beckoned her cousin to drift out to the patio for a New Yorker

a smart relevant up to date drink made to be gulped rather then sipped which they did and waited for the giggle to start it wasn't long before they were flailing in the wooden deck chairs

her cousin fell out grabbed his the chair and headed for her Mustang convertable it's time he thought

to go hunting

Kerry saw him set his chin in a resolute sort of way and a shiver ran down her spine

she'd seen the sign in his manner before

to be posted on the beach



nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:20 p.m.

chapter 6 a snake in the grass

Kerry knew her cousin could be a snake in the grass where women were concerned

but she tried not to think about it

he'd slipped some scissors into her glove box earlier and she had noticed them there

Scissors lyrics

I play doctor for five minutes flat Before I cut my heart open...and let the air out Three bugs, a pound of dust Some wind spilled over me In the strangest manner that had Broke away my tear spout

As I lie there With my tongue spread wide open A black widow had offered me A sweetheart tube As I injected The candid heart that I selected She said don't hesitate Just do what you have to do to me!

It's hard to stay between the lines of skin Just cuz I have nerves, don't mean that I can feel I wasn't very much fun to be with anyway Just let the blood run red CUZ I CAN'T FEEL!

Biding my time until the time is right Biding my time until the time is right Biding my time until the time is right Biding my time... It's time

It is time


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:24 p.m.

chapter 7 the way of the beach

wasn't it just the way of the world that beaching became more and more tasty Brazilian crotch waxes dignifying swimsuit thonging

and those asses those pears juicy and ripe asses just begging for a spanking and maybe something more

no wonder Katy Perry wanted to kiss a girl

damn straight!!!!!

hard and straight and itching to play rub a dub dub beneath the ocean waves

he got stopped half way out the driveway

Kerry's daughter and friends piled into the car and wouldn't take no for an answer all the better a sexy camouflage to put the thought of special scanning out of the minds of the woman he was really looking for

not a girl

not a young woman

a sexually mature woman worth a kinks ransom

it was the coaster the girls wanted at Belmont Park something to heat their blood and put that special sparkle in their eyes

the one that said "come hither and i might want more of you then i think take a chance with me my wet panties aren't because of the thrills on one of the few wooden coasters left in country

maybe they're because of you"

"come hither boys and girls it's hot at the beach today and i need some relief"


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:32 p.m.

chapter 8 Zensational Cougar

he knew his cousin had entered the contest Opening Day at Del Mar he never thought of her as a Cougar...even tho she was the perfect age for one

one of those sumptuous women he sought one 45 thru 55

slim still so good lookin'' a looker that made most men feel like they'd been socked in the gut

that below the belt punch of heat and pain and tumessence

definitely a blow below the belt

she had come in second a year ago he thought her bright red hair made it a cinch for her to win

but the non-freckle loving judges had given her the thumbs down and 2nd place to a nearly 60 year old silver fox wearing a fabulously simple gray straw hat and dove gray gloves to her elbows

such is the sensuous life of the awe inspiring woman of a certain age

he hurried over to Delmar for the 7th race

and didn't have to work hard to scan the crowd for Bob Baffert the trainer of Zensational

a gorgeous deep gray horse who was quite some cougar bait himself

the Del Mar race track was the perfect repository for the kind of women who drew him like a bee to honey

classy bitches that didn't hide their excitement aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh women and horses

mature women who wanted 1200 lb power houses between their legs when they decided to go for a ride

and loved a man who was just kinky enough to make them gasp for a breath

and then decide in the next instant they didn't want him to let her up for air

the staying power of that kind of woman wrapped him up like a fly in the web he took a deep breath and stared out from the anonymity of his dark glasses to find his mutual lust on the half shell

a "pearl of the world" as Steinbeck would have said one he wouldn't even have to think was his

before she even met him she had been claimed


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:34 p.m.

chapter 9 PAIN

PAIN...PAIN...PAIN... pain...pain...pain...

neverending...intolerable...vehement...excruciating PAIN

they writhe they say...when they're close to death...and see at last there's no way has given them all it's chosen too...there's no higher power to call going back over it if you want to hold your head up and slip the bonds of earth with any amount of grace...... that snake is invisible and internal

it's then that the peacefulness of forgetfulness comes calling and let's you wake up every day in snarled fluffy neurons that don't synapse to the rhythm of the dance ...they find a different drummer....and you have left feeling like the little duck...eager to approach and reconcile itself to the new day

QUACK QUACK DUCKIES.....may it be that way for me today


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:40 p.m.

chapter 10 an adorable little Cabbage Head

she had been his little plum dumplin'...

his all arms and legs eternal flame...

the blonde to end all blondes...

his heavenly havoc...

his sexual domain...

the woman who made his soul ticklish....

the diminutive diva of days gone by....

the Harri Kari knife he'd fallen on....

the choking in his throat

whenever happiness deduced

whenever he needed an infusion

the one he fell toward and never reached...

but was sorely blessed by the falling

there she was peeping out at him from GOD's garden...

the adorable little "cabbage head"


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:43 p.m.

chapter 11 not enough bandages

he didn't have enough bandages...not even a tourniquet would stem the flow of blood quickly enough to save him..he knew he deserved to die...but he couldn't...that would be too easy...way to easy

so he grew horns and moles and long deviant hairs all over his now gnarled body and walked upright as beautiful as he ever was on the outside

and no one one at all

he didn't look for her anymore...those kinda women didn't exist except in the days of yore when men were men

and women were women

and men were glad of it

youth and stupidity drove her away...and the stubborness of rightness

men and important it was be right when simply her arms around him made the sun come up ..her lying there like "a warm Texas breakfast"

smelling so much like sleep and womanliness...little little little woman/little girl

oh Christ...he was gonna start cryin' again


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:48 p.m.

chapter 12 scissors and blood do mix

geesus he was tired as his friend Coaster Dude was after that whirlwind ride to Kansas city...and he didn't take any pics of the HARLEY MUSEUM...dang him!!!

he'd gone to the party at the end of the racing season at Del Mar last nite

the Cougar couples were there near the paddock

he kept his left hand inside his pants pocket and fingered the pair of scizzors there

the sheathe was off...and tiny slices brought droplets of blood that eventually showed thru the ivory hue of his linen shorts...his graze moved around the area...and lingered on every beautiful blonde over 45

was she there...somewhere in the crowd...the woman who wanted him to cut her heart out


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:52 p.m.

chapter 13 worry ...worry..worry

Kerry was worried

and hoped he'd go back to Canada soon

when they were kids he'd been the apple of her eye her hero the great and boastful Booker no one dare hassle her when Booker was around

he had a look

a look that said

"i have some Demons inside me"

"Demons you don't want to get to know suckers"

he was never cruel and hurtful to children or animals so she push cloudy thoughts out of her head


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 1:59 p.m.

chapter 14 don' blame him on Canada

Booker smelled it this morning and his feet began to itch...he was surprised because no way would any of the trees here in San Diego turn for a couple of months now...he could see he'd worn out his welcome with his cousin...her kids were going back to college and she and her hubby Bill had to start packing to move out of the Tierra Santo condo and down to Imperial Beach

Kerry was discontent with her morning drive to work but the new condo wouldn't be a rental and it sat smack dab on the sand down near the ocean...Bill would love it..he like Kerry's BFF Lynner was born and raised down here a stones throw from the day when fences weren't up to act a a divider of boundaries

Bill met Kerry when she was a dyed haired teen...and he was a hotshot naval pilot still living on his laurels of being a flyer in Viet Nam...he was throughly unhappily married...had a son...and only gave Kerry a passing glance..even tho the curvaceous redhead had a certain effect on him walking down the sand in a bright white skirt that furled out to catch the wind and red blouse that pulled across her ample breasts to made them seem like two puppies squirming to get free

Booker hadn't been any help to the two of them in the moving process so he offered to dig right in and help them pack

every afternoon he'd do the work and let the two of them kick back in the hammock and just drink Long Island Ice Teas and relax but at nite in IB when it was very late and there was no moon he couldn't resist getting nude and heading into the surf to dip beneath the water...body surf in on the waves...and watch the shoreline...for what...what was he watching for...

he sometimes seemed like an animal to Kerry...she didn't speak of it to Bill

and Bill never thought anything about Bookers behavior...afterall...

he was a Canadian

but Kerry knew what was going on with Booker wasn't something you could blame on Canada


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 2:03 p.m.

chapter 15 fried eggs sans ham

when he thought of her his brain felt like that fried egg searing in the pan that was in the 80's commercial about drug use

the needle went into the bottle...the fluid went into the tube...his brain erupted into flames..and down down down he went into that "i'm not sure how long it'll be before i see the light of day again" drain

then she hovered...she swooned into his body and encapsulated the heat....trying to save him from the pain but the dark essence pushed her away

cowled and narcissistic she instead reach out to torment and triplicated the burn

she floated in if she couldn't warm the ice water in her veins and the Arctic chill in her bones

she turned and undulated like meat on a spit begging for the sickening roast

he saw her vulgar lecherous smile before he slipped again into unconsciousness curving and sliding up at the corners of her mouth.... and her crimson eyes....ever laser fine targeted again on his soul


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 2:16 p.m.

chapter 16 fun is fun

and done is done

how little time he had left to hunt

he'd found some

a slim 50 year old capture by his smile and his hands attention to her nether regions

a 48 year old who would have willingly immigrated to Canada to have his moth continue it's ministration

a 53 year old who honored him with wrists with rope burns and a rosy ass

beautiful women

pliant women...up to the task of surrender and passion but

as his eyelids slowly closed he pondered them in his train car seat....he thought it was a long long ride on the Coastal Starlight to Seattle ....a long but expectantly beautiful all along the Pacific's coastline

much of the trip was ocean viewing and he never got tired of seeing it

oceans of water to eventually turn to oceans of wheat barley and rape dancing in the winds or being harvested in Canada's heartland....

mountains getting ready for snow...the jagged sawtooths of the Canadian Rockies far surpassed any view of the Rockies below the 49th...sea terns rolling and gliding thru an overcast sky or a dour sea

soon it would be the transcontinal thru Canada to the right coast and the dreams of a prairie boy eager to both love and hate would drift away into the small towns of the plains

learning to speak French..badly at first...then like a Quebec native

when he jumped on the train in Vancouver he had a slight headache so he didn't fight the drooping eyelids

the conducter noticed he'd dropped his sketch book...he picked it up off the floor and laid it on the table before him...when the supper bell chimed the passenger didn't wake up...but the conductor thought little about he leaned in to tell him to head for the diner he noticed a smell

the passenger had wet his pants and couldn't be roused

as he drifted away he'd seen her..his muse...enveloped in deathlike irony with ravens flying out of her screaming mouth

was she...his dream lover... sending him her vicious final attack??

but he had no time to explore the idea as he drifted

no time to think about it


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 2:22 p.m.

chapter 17 Dave Harris Must Die

how many beautiful women want him dead...more then you could count on your fingers and toes combined

he'd spent his whole life falling in and out of love

was he a scoundrel??

but of even that he wasn't sure

maybe he was a sociopath...or maybe he was just hard hearted..his sexual energy drove him to depths and places few could return from and many didn't want to

bad boys...sweaty animalistic bad boys...probably every woman at sometime in her life had succombed to one and lived to both enjoy it and regret it

he was a charmer...a definate sociopathic trait

he delicately tread that careful path of intimacy to reassure and influence them...until they thought that he and they were like two peas in a pod

just all warm and cosy as he nuzzled them gently under their arms....let his lips dance on the pulse of their necks...adding fuel to the fire as their pulses quickened and goosebumps flooded over their bodies

but before it was over..he would disappear like a will o the wisp without an after thought

and that was the best ending to a scenario with Dave Harris

it could be worse

it could be their unhappy ending

if his passionate lust got the better of him


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 2:31 p.m.

chapter 18 she fought the good fight

Kerry couldn't just phone Lynner to tell her the bad news about Booker

along with the sad upheavals of her life this news had to be held in loving arms and stroked away with loving hands that communicated the unconditional love she had for her best friend from highschool Booker hadn't closed in on Lynner and her appreciation of him was profound he could be the gentle protector and with Lynner he always was

she found her friend down by the wetland...staring out over the bird estuary staring into the moving grasses and watching the birds dip for small sealife and fish to catch when the tides rushed out

Lynner had fought the good fight

relinguished herself to the wrong kind of men and withstood their deadly blows she was scarred and fragile but one would never know it from the way she carried herself she had been born to be the bubbles in Champange and she still bubbled on the surface and her eyes twinkled beneath the bruises of lovers young who stopped by to relish her remarkable body and sup from the rare delights of her nubile soul only Kerry her dearest friend was tortured along with her at the fledgeling promises she made to herself to get it right someday to mean more then just an enjoyable repass for a man who was just stopping over on his way to somewhere else

but why milady my smile is so sincere am i a fledgling horror just beneath my kind veneer

i'm singing the changling song it sounds so sweet a tenor's fragant epitaph it soothes today but for just how long

you shouldn't try him Lynner

instead fry him defy him die him

sacrifice him upon your sexual flames slice and dice him

here i'll loan you the knife the one you need to end his life never fear he'll bleed out blood so red and clear

or sew his lying lips disregard his fitful eyes those tears aren't real and no surprise just the tools of his rotten game the ones he used to 'cause you shamed


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 2:35 p.m.

chapter 19 she's the one

the last thought he had before he slipped into nothingness was of the day he met her

she stepped up on his porch...wide tomboy smile...slouched into a patio chair and held her hand out in a way that could be interpreted as a "shake my hand" or "please fill this with something cool to drink"...her mind was like a buzzsaw...and her mouth followed the sawdust as it flew with it's own momentum into the air

her baseball cap was turned backwards and her wispy blond hair could barely find it's way out from under it

"i'm your new neighbor"

"i thought i'd come over and introduce myself"

she then told him her name which he couldn't remember...shook his hand...and hop down off the porch before a single word could come out of his mouth

he thought he nodded...but he couldn't be sure as he watched her J Lo ass sway down the street

the only thing he could remember was the fleeting thought

she's the one


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 2:40 p.m.

that's it for now folks...i hope u like it...enjoy reading's a dark piece as it moves on..uncluttered with niceties...i'm sure where i'm going with it next but because it's so dark it's a struggle

any and all suggestions would be appreciated

cya later Nan


nan shartel Feb. 1, 2010 @ 2:50 p.m.

thx Cuddles

this was a very easy way to post it...thx so much JayAllen for the tip...and u young lady for the tips and support

i hope everyone who started it will come back to read it all


Jay Allen Sanford Feb. 1, 2010 @ 8:28 p.m.

It's a bit of a hurdle to get past the e.e. cummings-style disregard for narrative form and proper English construction (is the malformed language purposeful/poetic, or merely unschooled?). That said, it's an interesting way to present an insightful (and frequently entertaining) personal POV. All in all, a good read, if haphazardly presented --


David Dodd Feb. 1, 2010 @ 10:14 p.m.

A lot of amazing imagery, it reminds me a lot (in style) of some of my favorite Bukowski poems. I'm very glad you shared it, nan.


CuddleFish Feb. 1, 2010 @ 10:30 p.m.

I can't think of the last time I've read anything as original and daring and breathtaking as this piece. Narrative, memoir, poetry, and at one point she even had art mixed in as well, the good Lord knows there probably would have been music added at some point.

I'd give nan a whole wing in a museum to create her work.


SDaniels Feb. 1, 2010 @ 11:14 p.m.

Wow, I am going to need a little time to absorb, then will come back to try and do some justice! ;)


nan shartel Feb. 2, 2010 @ 11:35 a.m.

hahahahahahaha...Jay Allen....terse...poetic...perhaps...unshooled in writing i'm sure but i've been writing poetry on and off for a long long time

i think i may have crawled out of the Will Faulkner school of writing

i guess i didn't think about someone critiquing the writing...all i want u to know is did y'all like's rough...not polished...just like me


nan shartel Feb. 2, 2010 @ 11:39 a.m.

hahahahahahaha Cuddles my fishy friend...yes when i put it in originally i did have pics and at my space there is music to go with

i got the Gawd if only i could write...

u r one nice lady homey!!!


nan shartel Feb. 2, 2010 @ 11:40 a.m.

Pete...u would have loved the ones with pictures...git out there and just live baby!!!!!


nan shartel Feb. 2, 2010 @ 11:41 a.m.

sdaniels...thx for the read..i appreciate it..Nan


Jay Allen Sanford Feb. 2, 2010 @ 8:17 p.m.

Taken as a whole, it IS poetic - but, oddly, to my mind anyway, it's more LYRICAL than poetic. Like the liner notes of a concept album put to music by Mannheim Steamroller or the Moody Blues, to marvelous effect ---


nan shartel Feb. 3, 2010 @ 7:27 p.m.

thx a great deal Jay Allen...

i'm from the Moody Blues generation u know...hahahahahahahaha...i originally called this piece Snippets...and wrote it as if someone was just catching bits and pieces of these characters lives and what they saw or thought were just musings over possibly a cold beer and maybe a hot bowl of Chili in a dusty corner or a small neighborhood cafe...after listening to people who come in often seated at a table nearby

i started using the internet in 1999...started blogging in 2002..on a website in Canada...began writing a book on a Native American genetic engineering project in the 4 corners in the Southwest that work i was far more explanatory where history and background and character development was concerned...but even there i was more of a stream of consienceness writer ala "the Sound and the Fury (my favorite all time book)...i think i'm primarily a Right brain thinker...intuitive and i tend to flow within the premise of each short post

it's been fun writing this and the other book...i have no thoughts of doing anything other then engaging other writers into discourse about my writing and their writing

I've never been tempted to publish anything


SDaniels Feb. 4, 2010 @ 12:21 p.m.

nan wrote:

"...began writing a book on a Native American genetic engineering project in the 4 corners in the Southwest ..."

This sounds amazing! You say it wasn't published, but you call it book--so did it finally end up published, nan? Any way you can share some of it?

"stream of consienceness writer ala "the Sound and the Fury (my favorite all time book)..."

I'm a fan of that book too, nan, and yes, why I like your stuff, besides the fact that reading you is like walking through a weedy, tangly back wood, and suddenly coming on little clearings and bright flashes of colorful flowers--those would be your startling, fresh images ;)

"i think i'm primarily a Right brain thinker...intuitive and i tend to flow within the premise of each short post"

I like the confines of posting boxes too, obviously, since I neglect my blogs for them! I'm not a believer in this right/left brain theory, since I ran into so many statements that it is hooey, but it is so useful for describing one's thinking tendencies and habits. So refresh me: Is it the right or left brain thinker who tends to access the more intuitive and creative ways of processing information? Because I see you as that type--intuitive, definitely.

I used to write poetry along these lines, imagining I was turning the dial of a radio, and recording what snippets of dialogue or monologue, lyric, etc. were picked up. I totally agree with jayallen that you are very much a lyricist.


SDaniels Feb. 4, 2010 @ 12:23 p.m.

Oh, never mind on that--yes, the right brain thinker is supposed to be the creative one, as you say, and the left brain is the more analytical of fact. The way things have been going, I think I need more of a whole brain theory--and all it can spare, too! ;)


nan shartel Feb. 5, 2010 @ 9:26 a.m.

aaaaaaaaaaaahhhh SDaniels...both sides of the brain r needed always i left brain however is in the doghouse because it makes so many spelling errors

i'd love to read some of ur poetry...and lyrical...i don't know true poetry forms altho at My Space i did write some others types with the guidance of more schooled friends

i'm a real hotshot at Haiku

i fall back on the old BEAT poets models..Ginberg and Kerouvac for suport in my poetic meanderings

when i was working i was in Medicine and completely analytical but i still found myself whispering small poetic phases to my babies to calm them down...the nurses often asked me what i said to them...and called me quick if one had a snit and stopped breathing or dropped their heatbeat below acceptable limits


nan shartel Feb. 5, 2010 @ 9:31 a.m.

Cuddles..ur dial is not stuck...!!!

i think everyone can write poetic prose..i've read some at ur place from time to time and thx so much for ur interest in's the smallest market in publishing...the reason i never attempted to publish....hahahahahahaha

of course now due to my being hacked i don't have enough poetry to publish


SDaniels Feb. 12, 2010 @ 2:57 a.m.

Smaller market than poetry? Plays! (What my man does).

So if you like the Beats, nan, then you are a fan of their progenitor, old Father Walt? I bet you are good with haiku! Post some? So you were a nurse, then? I love nurses--they have been very important in my life, and when they are good, they can't know what they do for people. Were you a neonatal nurse? Caring for the little ones in their 'incubators?' :)


CuddleFish Feb. 12, 2010 @ 7:16 a.m.

I love reading your poetry, nan. It makes my day.

Yeah, dial stuck lately as far as writing poetry. I used to write quite a lot of it, but really, you have to be inspired, and lately not feeling it.

More into short stories at the moment. And of course, these silly little essays. Shocked you didn't have anything to say on the boob flashing thread! ;)


nan shartel Feb. 14, 2010 @ 5:44 p.m.


yes i was in the NICU SDaniels...but i wasn't a nurse...i was a Neonatal Respiratory Specialist...trained at UCI Irvine and UCSD San Diego...worked in Kaiser Permanente's NICU to create more of a cohesive core group with Nurses, Respirstory and Neonatal Fellows with a view to more inclusive involvement of all in L&D (labor and delivery)area

BOOB did i miss that!!!???


PistolPete Feb. 14, 2010 @ 11:13 p.m.

I've been meaning to read this, nan. I haven't ignored it. It's just too long. I'll get around to reading it this week. I promise.


antigeekess Feb. 15, 2010 @ 8:52 a.m.

Thanks for bumping it, Pete. I'd missed most of it entirely. Same here. Have to read it later.

nanners, you're a wild, poetic TRIP on a rollercoaster, yourself!



nan shartel Feb. 15, 2010 @ 10:56 a.m.

hey antiG and Petester...u couldn't have read wasn't even published 'til got lost in the shuffle of being too long when The Readers kicked it out as many blogs...i didn't realise i was being such a selfish spacepig blogger the day i put them all u can see there were a lot...hahahahahaha

Jay Allen suggested i do it this way in the comments...bless him

the only way u could have gotten here was catching it on the "Poetic Blogs and Such" in Cuddles blog a week or so ago

and yes antiG...i am a Trip personified...hahahahahahahahaha


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