tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33909400124782660152023-10-16T03:53:30.406-06:00The Cosmic Word Laboratory cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-67075809297843724002019-09-16T18:16:00.000-06:002019-09-16T18:16:03.867-06:00Pale ShelterThis poem is in response to a challenge to write a fictional poem about living in a fallout shelter. Intriguing idea, so here is my poem.<br />
------------<br />
Pale Shelter<br />
<br />
The clocks have all stopped<br />
The batteries are dead<br />
So the slow drip of the distiller<br />
Keeps the time inside my head.<br />
<br />
The feet that made the hallways<br />
Echo from before<br />
Are withering with lye<br />
Behind the cold storage door.<br />
<br />
I've got UV lamps for vitamins<br />
And root vegetables galore<br />
But the best of all my mem'ries<br />
Must stay locked by the storage door.<br />
<br />
So I sip the drips of water<br />
And rub my muscles sore<br />
After pedaling for some 'lectricity<br />
I stare mutely at the door.<br />
<br />
All a person ever needed<br />
As well as me, myself and I.<br />
Averting eyes from the storage room<br />
And thoughts of who'll douse me with lye.<br />
<br />cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-54120533511713774392019-09-09T15:04:00.001-06:002019-09-09T15:04:34.036-06:00If Life Equals 'X' ThenAt first presentation of the problem<br />
The answer came as consensus:<br />
The variable isn't variable at all.<br />
The Straight white line<br />
The cozy monotone box is right.<br />
<br />
Now as the bedrock crumbles<br />
And her feet must vary their standing,<br />
We find her path awash with color<br />
And aberrations of determination.<br />
So then X must equal what is needed.<br />
<br />
--<br />
Hi all.<br />
I have been lonely without poetry. But I'm determined to give it another go.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-41989701067947858432019-09-08T22:39:00.001-06:002019-09-08T22:39:37.164-06:00Desert Child, Desert MotherHer face was lined and tired.<br />
Not like O'Keefe, fellow-desert dweller,<br />
Cheeks the dry earth after rain.<br />
No, my grandmothers face is the scalloped soft sand after the caress of gentle winds.<br />
She yanks tumble-weeds from her flowerbeds and burrs from her bicycle tires.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-7681837458171776802017-01-13T08:43:00.001-07:002017-01-13T08:43:09.295-07:00Sara Teasdale Spoke to MeSara Teasdale Spoke to Me<br />
<br />
She said nature.<br />
<br />
She said love.<br />
<br />
She said pick up the damn spoon<br />
and stir.<br />
Your thoughts are thick on the bottom<br />
of the pot.<br />
Stop running from the emptiness.<br />
<br />
Walk in.<br />
<br />
Fill it.<br />
<br />
Be.<br />
<br />
---------<br />
It's been nearly a year since I posted a poem. I don't think I've written more than three in all of 2016. It was a year of deep emotional pain, a quagmire of change I found nearly impossible to wade through. As many of you do, I'm sure, I frequently use poetry as a tool for processing such things, but I couldn't.<br />
It was a frightening thing for me.<br />
Last night, I was mourning a bit and I listened to a audio book of Sara Teasdale's poetry. It was so beautiful. Hearing it read was a balm to me. She gave me courage to write again.<br />
Here is my offering.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-77742826296061837212016-01-31T21:31:00.001-07:002016-01-31T21:31:50.135-07:00Time TurningBefore I tasted Plath<br />
and before Anne Sexton made forty<br />
look like the perfect age,<br />
there were fairies.<br />
<br />
They hid in the grasses<br />
and wove flowers in my hair<br />
with their tiny wicked finger.<br />
They pulled down clouds from the sky.<br />
<br />
There was magic in music.<br />
Lyrics, iridescent bubbles of thought,<br />
forced air into my lungs<br />
and my vision transmuted to color.<br />
<br />
Do you remember the fairies?<br />
They crowned me their queen.<br />
You knelt, green, at my feet,<br />
and I, flushed pink, kissed your brow.<br />
<br />
Before rain streaked the horizon,<br />
melting the snow drops,<br />
sparklers arrived, lit and lustrous,<br />
in the mailbox.<br />
<br />
They turned to jewels,<br />
dropped in my ribs' repository.<br />
I never see them anymore.<br />
I don't care to, but they changed me.<br />
<br />
Returning to the fairies, however-<br />
I can't forget the scent, then.<br />
It trips me on a lonely sidewalk<br />
and teases in crowded passageways.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-26850388654665385692015-12-17T17:28:00.000-07:002015-12-17T20:57:23.204-07:00Untitled (1975-1998)There was a softness in the curves of your face<br />
<i>Nose lips chin brow</i><br />
Even that impish smirk<br />
Softened the blow of your insular soul.<br />
Did I even know you at all?<br />
<br />
In knew, intimately, your car's contents1993<br />
<i>Primus Chili Peppers Nirvana</i><br />
Listened to murmurings<br />
Against the girl attached like Velcro<br />
To your grungeflannel shirt.<br />
<br />
My mother's voice sounded the knell<br />
<i>Shot Toby dad dead </i><br />
I don't remember our last<br />
Seeyouaroundwe'llgettogethersoon <br />
I remember sitting by the sink, knowing this.<br />
<br />
There are things you'll never know<br />
<i>Hashtags downloads smart phones</i><br />
That would have made you laugh.<br />
Such a soft laugh, that held secrets<br />
Drawing my mouth into a smile.<br />
<br />
<br />cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-76981444549153527772015-11-08T10:20:00.003-07:002015-11-08T10:56:21.541-07:00Hand-quilting in America We are linked, my sisters.<br />
Spools of simple thread bounce down the stairs of time.<br />
I see the tiny stitches made from that same rocking motion.<br />
We have callouses that withstand fire.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-63837985254318546842015-09-24T15:12:00.000-06:002015-09-24T15:12:15.894-06:00Next to MeThere is a wall next to me.<br />
<div>
It grows. </div>
<div>
It crumbles. </div>
<div>
Tendrils of green find their way through the gaps, </div>
<div>
Hope's Breath blooms. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Some days, I forget it's there. </div>
<div>
Breezes fly through this valley</div>
<div>
as in days disappeared. </div>
<div>
The mighty oak's branches rub against the stone.<br />
<br />
Some days, the wall is the last anchor I have to you.<br />
I lean, back sore, neck twisted<br />
For there is depth below<br />
That cannot be ignored which I must suck from the soil.<br />
<br />
Some days, this wall is everything I fear<br />
And other times it hides all I cannot face. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-75595673596513274812015-09-24T15:11:00.001-06:002015-09-24T15:11:36.507-06:00Irreconcilable So, this what it feels like. <div>
Not every day,</div>
<div>
But in the slick-sweat stickiness of this moment</div>
<div>
Or that. </div>
<div>
You dare to peek in the keyhole </div>
<div>
Of Pandora's black box</div>
<div>
And as with an accident causing disruption on the road</div>
<div>
It is an effort to pull your eyes away</div>
<div>
From the disaster inside. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The mind plays with architecture:</div>
<div>
Bridge the gap,</div>
<div>
Building walls,</div>
<div>
A door closing. </div>
<div>
I stand in the doorway</div>
<div>
While my foundation shudders around me. </div>
<div>
I don't know where I should stand. </div>
<div>
And after this moment...</div>
<div>
What then? Where do I build?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-31479840837719877062015-08-26T16:55:00.002-06:002015-08-26T16:55:25.784-06:00SwingI don't always carry my load<br />
in this community of humans.<br />
I can't. My grip falters.<br />
I fall over my laces. I lose a shoe.<br />
<br />
Somehow it seems as though I could put one foot after another foot after another foot<br />
But it's as though you asked me to ascend a wall of this house.<br />
The air gets heavy.<br />
I can't breathe.<br />
<br />
Today, someone held my heart in their hands<br />
Working and working,<br />
And with the skill of an artist encased it crystalline webbing,<br />
Making precious, the fibrous pulsing inside.<br />
<br />
I performed near-miracles yesterday,<br />
Flicking problems away like displaced ants,<br />
But the universe craves balance, you see,<br />
And the winner's platform is pulled away and I fall.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-60627481427364750952015-06-29T22:59:00.001-06:002015-06-29T22:59:32.234-06:00Chickens and GoatsMovement in the barnyard<br />
Under that storm-green sky<br />
Oblivious<br />
To anything but the grass<br />
Anything but the grain<br />
<br />
Are we playing Hide and Go Seek?<br />
Again, little muse?<br />
I feel you in my sore wrist.<br />
Are you sitting on my shoulder?<br />
And there you are...<br />
<br />
Sitting by fence post<br />
Barbed wire, your canopy,<br />
Twiddling your thumbs, some string<br />
Or just words?<br />
There. Your brown head bobs again.<br />
<br />
No, it's just a goat among the chickens.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-7987196460682038162015-06-09T16:55:00.002-06:002015-06-09T16:56:32.795-06:00AmandaYour blotchy skin is mine.<br />
So is your small form curled against me for a lullaby.<br />
"I wonder when..."<br />
<br />
You have my heart of strong bricks.<br />
My love for you as tender as the skin grafts on your forearm.<br />
Inextricably intertwined, are we.<br />
<br />
My willow girl,<br />
Bending and thin, swishing with the wind<br />
There is something right between us.<br />
<br />
I am never more worthy<br />
Your eyes know me, hold me, and I won you with a quarter.<br />
Your sap feeds my heart.<br />
<br />
You give and you give<br />
You break down walls to breathe the fresh air<br />
You are cloud-stepping, full-hearted<br />
<br />
Sister to my soul<br />
Sister of my body<br />
Daughter of my heartcosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-47196918966810006802015-05-27T03:39:00.002-06:002015-05-27T03:39:36.006-06:00How Can I Get to Where You Are?It was late.<br />
It was night.<br />
I glided on a car made of skateboard wheels and twine.<br />
Street lights twinkle like faraway stars,<br />
But the road below me shone black as an underground pool.<br />
Passing lights overwhelmed my sight<br />
and the black of the road left me blind.<br />
I reached out for the painted lines that curved and swayed the road. <br />
I could only trust my fingertips to steady me on this sooty path.<br />
Gravity pulled me toward my destination.<br />
<br />
Home.<br />
<br />
Home.<br />
<br />
My descent grew steeper.<br />
I called for you, fear pitching my voice higher.<br />
<br />
Hear me.<br />
Help me.<br />
Stop me.<br />
<br />
My eyes are plucked out.<br />
The surface is too slick.<br />
Night's maw is open.<br />
I fall and she smacks her lips.<br />
<br />
<br />cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-21748623722116548442015-05-23T23:09:00.002-06:002015-05-23T23:09:23.672-06:00She Shall Outdistance Calamity Anywhere She GoesWhen she comes back--<br />
into the world, red and slick, re-<br />
incarnated she will not wait--<br />
<br />
She will squall without the spank--<br />
Warrior cry, Pen poised--<br />
to mar the blank slate--<br />
<br />
New life, new woman--<br />
New dress? Perhaps--<br />
Yes, to be sure.<br />
<br />
Trouble will come to call. <br />
She will have her track shoes on<br />
before the knocker can sound.<br />
<br />
Bus, train, car or fleetest foot--<br />
Speed boat, aero plane--<br />
Leaving Trouble in the dust.<br />
----<br />
I chose the third choice, <a href="http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2012/05/kenias-wednesday-challenge.html">Kenia's Wednesday challenge,</a> for my inspiration.<br />
I had written off Marianne Moore a long time ago (the HYPHENS!!!) and it was nice to revisit her work. She was a lot better the second time around. I could even see a similarity of style between us.<br />
<br />
I took my title from her poem "Diligence Is to Magic as Progress Is to Flight."<br />
I also chose to follow her style and see if I could make those confusticated hyphens work for me.<br />
Her original poem : <a href="https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/diligence-magic-progress-flight">here</a><br />
<h1 class="page__title title" id="page-title" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; font-family: 'Poets Electra Web Italic', 'Poets Electra Web', 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 38px; font-weight: 500; letter-spacing: -2px; line-height: 1.20301em; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px;">
<br /></h1>
cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-1846545455496763212015-05-22T15:31:00.001-06:002015-05-22T15:31:39.591-06:00 The Head is a Pitcher, The Nose Its Spout I was weeping in my closet.<br />
(Do you weep inside yours?)<br />
I cracked the spine and wrote<br />
(It was a dark and stormy face)<br />
A list of the things I knew for certain<br />
(choosing buoyancy over drowning)<br />
Skills were noted, faiths testified<br />
(And I wrote I look good in black)<br />
I closed the book with determined snap<br />
(then I put away pairs of shoes)<br />
I filled three pages with things I knew<br />
(I could've eaten my feelings instead)<br />
Emptied my heart, cleared my head<br />
(cramped hand and a pain in the neck).cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-20299167892798090592015-05-22T13:33:00.002-06:002015-05-22T13:33:52.356-06:00Kristine Her curls blend with the swirls of the sea<br />
Eddies swish 'round the pedestal<br />
The tides call her home<br />
But down flutters o'er her heart<br />
As her fingers stretch to feel<br />
The tickling of the breeze<br />
Feathers sprout, wings unfurl, she rises<br />
She rises with a cry, bright thing.<br />
A sail from a distant vessel waves her farewell.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-37274630412827204962015-04-24T14:54:00.001-06:002015-04-24T14:55:19.791-06:00Two SistersTwo sisters<br />
Daily chores<br />
Work to do<br />
<br />
A small request<br />
A tiny sip<br />
Of water from the spring<br />
<br />
Younger girl<br />
Yes, of course<br />
Diamonds from her lips<br />
<br />
Older child, refused<br />
Had only vipers<br />
She could spit<br />
<br />
In the looking glass<br />
Haunted by the tale<br />
Which sister do I see?<br />
<br />
----<br />
The Fairies by Charles Perrault http:/www.pitt.edu/~dash/perrault05.html<br />
is great tale that rewards compassion. This is my wish for myself. This link is a short retell if and worth the visit.<br />
The moral is retold in two different versions by author Robert D San Souci in The Talking Eggs<br />
<img src="webkit-fake-url://04371646-7419-4104-9453-f65ea650617d/imagejpeg" /><br />
and<br />
<span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">The Well at the End of the World. </span><br />
<img src="webkit-fake-url://f5fd6932-f4e3-4cc1-91a9-5898e4fa207e/imagejpeg" />cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-2237725090059622912015-04-08T09:35:00.002-06:002015-04-08T09:35:46.887-06:00Haunted (When the Minutes Drag)I still miss you.<br />
Holding your hand on the damp subway platform<br />
And hearing the clack of your heels.<br />
Never loved a woman that way before.<br />
Never felt so overprotective, stupid, naïve<br />
Before I spied you, post- interview, face a mess.<br />
I can smell the piss and hear the hiss<br />
Of the air brakes.<br />
I turn without looking and leave.<br />
I leave for what I know,<br />
Where I can see the ground<br />
Before my foot can land.<br />
----<br />
My first fiction piece is the subject of this poem, inspired by the title of Love and Rockets' "Haunted (When the Minutes Drag)."<br />
<br />cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-48600867917162787632015-04-07T13:00:00.000-06:002015-04-07T13:02:24.961-06:00Primitive Primitive<br />
<br />
Away from the house<br />
Under the clothes line<br />
Down the short ridge<br />
And over the lawn<br />
Go through the plum trees<br />
That sprout round the ditch<br />
Boldly step into your own primitive country<br />
There are hills, but you can't see them<br />
Grass and growth so tall, you can hardly see<br />
Yourself<br />
You can wear many hats,<br />
Any hat, here<br />
There is the skunk tree<br />
And the bush that can be hidden under.<br />
The skunk tree has a mysterious x<br />
Carved right there on the trunk<br />
What does it mean, but that your hat today<br />
Belongs to a buccaneer?<br />
When you come back the way you came<br />
You can stop in the valley<br />
Build a nest for me and you.<br />
We will be birds, feathered and safe.<br />
<br />
--------<br />
My great-grandmother's home had a large back yard but after the back border of tangled plum trees, in the center of the block, there was a wilderness of imagination. I tried to put my feelings about this overgrown and protected place in this poem.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-46019404671319152592015-04-06T18:25:00.000-06:002015-04-06T18:25:13.359-06:00Nevada StarsI climbed the wooden ladder<br />
Lay on wooden beams<br />
When I opened my eyes<br />
A gasp caught in my throat.<br />
Stars, so thick,<br />
Like stew,<br />
Were smeared across the sky.<br />
I could taste them,<br />
Seasoned with the desert air.<br />
Nevada stars are closer,<br />
Not to the Earth, but to each other.<br />
Here they dance on the glistening ebony of the sky.<br />
Kiss, flirt and spin away.<br />
These stars stick in my mind's eye<br />
If you want to see them too, avoid Sin City's neon glow<br />
And take Hwy 95 to the middle of nowhere<br />
Then turn at the bend.<br />
You'll know you've made it<br />
when you can see them through your tears.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-81368395103796328272015-03-26T16:36:00.000-06:002015-03-26T16:36:01.778-06:00Out on a LimbAlone.<br />
Been morning for hours.<br />
From gray to green goes the scent on the breeze.<br />
Up here!<br />
Scraped knee.<br />
Wind-breaker<br />
and book.<br />
<br />
The tree we thought banana,<br />
Ugly in winter or spring,<br />
Holds me high.<br />
Thick, pliant arms.<br />
This tree.<br />
Dried pods burn like needles in the sole.<br />
My perfect.<br />
<br />cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-64375367288329422572015-01-28T19:44:00.001-07:002015-02-02T08:39:55.564-07:00A Velveteen Châise Lounge Smashed on the Side of the RoadI draw my finger slowly through the dust<br />
This is how I send through the message<br />
I love to watch the small particles rearrange<br />
Like metallic filaments moving with a magnet.<br />
<br />
Hello <br />
<br />
There is creation and there is decay<br />
Forced upon us like the abandoned chair<br />
On the side of a busy highway<br />
I can see the broken luxury from my 50-mph glance.<br />
<br />
There are days thick with starch<br />
And I drink them down slow,<br />
Love the weight flowing in my chest<br />
I will it not to choke me.<br />
<br />
Why <i>are </i>some days heavier than others?<br />
What changed in the atmosphere<br />
Or in the atomic weight of the metaphysical<br />
That leaves me feeling like this?cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-24627528895037051232014-12-15T16:44:00.001-07:002014-12-15T17:00:39.768-07:00After Brief PartingThey slip easily into familiar patterns<br />
Of complaint, of petition and casual affection.<br />
I am still aching empty.<br />
Fill me with your strongest grasp<br />
Affirm that I didn't lose my place<br />
In line when I stepped out of your sight.<br />
<br />
When we fall into familiar patterns<br />
(I sit here, you lean there)<br />
When we read or play or eat<br />
I am not fully convinced that I belong.<br />
Then you give a secret and dime's worth<br />
Of your sparking, wild hopes--<br />
<br />
I see that your home is at my center.<br />
With you, I am complete.<br />
Your echoing faces hint at your relief<br />
That nothing changes when we wave good-bye.<br />
We belong together and your hands fit in mine.<br />
Your hopes set off wildfire joy in me.<br />
<br />cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-34251838453594353242014-10-30T14:22:00.002-06:002014-10-30T14:22:56.648-06:00NightingaleMy wings are clipped and my throat is tight.<br />
When terrors fever in my brain<br />
And I wake weeping in the night<br />
There is your hush and your swish of movement.<br />
Lullaby songs brush through the tendrils of my hair<br />
and your whispers force my thoughts away.<br />
Before I can wake fully, an adult whose cheeks flush<br />
at the thought of that imaginary monster death, <br />
when my body stills and my breath is deep, <br />
you are there, rescuing me with your voice.<br />
You sing on, until I fall back into sleep.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3390940012478266015.post-82795187361757510852014-09-22T17:14:00.002-06:002014-09-22T17:14:40.744-06:00Bare-foot in the KitchenI am flecked with the juice of pomegranates,<br />
Bare-footed and listening to the poetry of ages<br />
Read by men I will never meet.<br />
<br /><br />
This day is a clear one,<br />
To my mind and my eyes.<br />
I see so much today and I am happy.<br />
<br /><br />
I am grateful for the gift of rare days.<br />
Peace is so flitting in these chaos times, <br />
But I pad the nest anyway.<br />
<br /><br />
Strings and cloth scraps here.<br />
This side needs extra down.<br />
I cover the sharp sticks of life.<br />
<br /><br />
There are still years before I will launch them<br />
As a mother eagle with her young.<br />
<em>They will soar higher than I, </em>I tell my heart.<br />
<br /><br />
Today, it has been time and sight.<br />
An eagle's sharp vision, by heaven, has been the gift<br />
And my arms will, cradling, enfold it.cosmos camihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09558327124451076957noreply@blogger.com4