________________________________________________________________________________________________
Dear Paul
As a successful film producer,
I spend my days with people
such as Leonardo Dicaprio,
Brad Pitt,and Meryl Streep.
But none of those days
mean as much to me as our days
at the Lewis Carroll School of Logic.
I was a virgin when I went to college
but then a girl named Paulette met
a boy named Paul.
He became a CarPeo and then
there was a Mrs. CarPeo
who may or may not like
the picture of me
that I promised
to send you.
You always
wanted me
to shake my
moneymaker.
Unforgetably Yours,
Paulette Petard
________________________________________________________________________________________________
It began as the GODFATHER OF MATH, evolved into the GOODFATHER OF MATH. Now this. Go figure...
The kind of humor I like is the thing that makes me laugh for five seconds and think for ten minutes = G. CARLIN...Stain glass, engraved glass, frosted glass
–give me plain glass = JOHN FOWLES ... Music is the mathematics of the gods=PYTHAGORAS ... Nothing is more fluid than language = R. L. SWIHART
I cannot live without the oxygen of laughter = DAWN POWELL ... !!! ... But laughter cannot survive without the hydrogen of gravitas = PAUL OLIVERIO
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Three Cameron Photographs But One Lie
________________________________________________________________________________________________
The number of distinguished
19th Century female
photographers
can probably
be counted
on one
finger.
But her name
has 3 parts
to it:
Julia
Margaret
Cameron
(1815-1879)
Julia photographed
Charles Darwin,
Lord Tennyson,
Henry W. Longfellow...
and these three women.
I apologize for not naming
any of them but the page
title has two parts
and the third
woman was
born in
1921.
Sixty-six years ago yesterday,
she spread her legs
real wide and out
popped a thing
that became
me!
________________________________________________________________________________________________
The number of distinguished
19th Century female
photographers
can probably
be counted
on one
finger.
But her name
has 3 parts
to it:
Julia
Margaret
Cameron
(1815-1879)
Julia photographed
Charles Darwin,
Lord Tennyson,
Henry W. Longfellow...
and these three women.
I apologize for not naming
any of them but the page
title has two parts
and the third
woman was
born in
1921.
Sixty-six years ago yesterday,
she spread her legs
real wide and out
popped a thing
that became
me!
________________________________________________________________________________________________
This Is Not...This Is...(TIN/TI #4)
________________________________________________________________________________________________
THIS IS NOT...
an Oliverio
photograph but
THIS IS...
________________________________________________________________________________________________
![]() |
| Pat Place Still Life with Ray Gun and Dinosaur (1978) |
THIS IS NOT...
an Oliverio
photograph but
THIS IS...
| © Oliverio Hazeburg Car Wash (2005) The next page in this series is here. |
They Were Good
________________________________________________________________________________________________
They were good
at being
lousy in bed
Peppering
it with all
the right things said
Held together
by the glue
of illusion
Avoiding
always com-
mon confusion
If it's Wednesday
they must hump
Saturday is
bump bump bump
To conclusions
never did they jump
Happiness is not
the absence of
unhappiness
It is vaguely
vaginal with
a vague penis
Being blind to
every meanness
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
THEY WERE GOOD is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Monday, May 18, 2015
Photoverio © (#94): Bless Us
________________________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
Photography and collage by Otto Jensen.
Poem by © Paul Oliverio.
Did you hear the one about the 101-year-old man who got
run over by the 91-year-old woman?
I am the only person to never laugh at that joke because the
101-year-old man was Otto Jensen, who was my mentor
and father-by-proxy.
I was also his son-by-proxy.
________________________________________________________________________________________________A Poem By James Wright
________________________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________________________
Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
Asleep on the black trunk
Blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Asleep on the black trunk
Blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Down the ravine behind the empty house,
The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,
The droppings of last year’s horses
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.
James Wright is the father of Franz Wright.
They are the only Father/Son to both
win the Pulitzer Prize for poetry.
When Franz read his first poem to his father,
his father said "You're a poet, welcome to hell."
______________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
He's A Gas
________________________________________________________________________________________________
![]() |
| Paul Klee Jumping Jack |
donates 100 images
of its collection
to Wikipedia in
free edit-a-thon
![]() |
| © Art Daily |
He's a gas
________________________________________________________________________________________________ART DAILY: Best Photo Of The Day
________________________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
![]() |
| ATHENS.-
Media workers walk on a corridor leading on top of the new National Museum of Contemporary Art during a media tour on May 16, 2015 in Athens. The museum is expected to open its gates for the public within the year. AFP PHOTO / Angelos Tzortzinis |
![]() |
| © artdaily.org Best Photos of the Day 5/18/15 |
There Is No Typo Below
________________________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________
____________________
I must tell Martha
I must tell Fred
This is what my woman said:
He is what he id
____________________
_____________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Mr. And Mrs. Happy
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Margaret and Michael Olson
always introduced themselves
as Mr. and Mrs. Happy
Because they were always happy
They were always satisfied
with each other
Always
They were always able
to complete each other's sentences
They never fought
They never disagreed
Never
They never interrupted each other
They let everyone know this
Then everyone knew what happened
to Mr. and Mrs. Happy
Then everyone knew what happened
before either one of them was
thirty-seven years old
Mr. and Mrs. Happy
died of boredom
They let everyone know this.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
MR. AND MRS. HAPPY is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Margaret and Michael Olson
always introduced themselves
as Mr. and Mrs. Happy
Because they were always happy
They were always satisfied
with each other
Always
They were always able
to complete each other's sentences
They never fought
They never disagreed
Never
They never interrupted each other
They let everyone know this
Then everyone knew what happened
to Mr. and Mrs. Happy
Then everyone knew what happened
before either one of them was
thirty-seven years old
Mr. and Mrs. Happy
died of boredom
They let everyone know this.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
MR. AND MRS. HAPPY is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Photoverio © (#93): Glass Blockage
________________________________________________________________________________________________
©
O
l
i
v
e
r
i
O
©
©
________________________________________________________________________________________________
©
O
l
i
v
e
r
i
O
©
![]() |
| Sunset Beach: Seven for Carol Three for me (5/17/15) The next glass block page is here. |
©
l
i
v
e
r
i
©
Dysfunctio Cactus (Exhibit C)
________________________________________________________________________________________________
You are probably wondering
why I gathered you here
today
Well
All I have
to say is:
Keep on wondering
________________________________________________________________________________________________
![]() |
| © Oliverio Florida Avenue Forestry (5/14/15) |
why I gathered you here
today
Well
All I have
to say is:
Keep on wondering
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Home Again
________________________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________
____________________________________
my mother just walked in the door
my sister is rolling on the floor
my father is upstairs,
reading doesteyevski
how good it does feel
though not one word
of it is real
____________________________________
__________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Published Without First Getting Her Consent
________________________________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________
This is not an easy poem.
It must sum up everything.
It must say that I love you,
In a new and clever way.
It must let you know how
Much you mean to me.
But is that possible?
On your birthday,
You live within me
As you do each day.
You are so deeply part
Of me. Is it my birthday too?
Or was that in November 2 0 1 2
It must sum up everything.
It must say that I love you,
In a new and clever way.
It must let you know how
Much you mean to me.
But is that possible?
On your birthday,
You live within me
As you do each day.
You are so deeply part
Of me. Is it my birthday too?
Or was that in November 2 0 1 2
Mrs. CarPeo
We met in 11/12
YES:
YES:
It is our Birthday
***************
G-d is such a tease
Showing happiness
Out of reach's seize.
But I see happy people
All around. He doesn't
Say you are hell bound?
G-d has kept me in place,
Down on my knees
Always
You can't do as you please
I love him
I hear him
I wish him
Happy 66
***************
G-d is such a tease
Showing happiness
Out of reach's seize.
But I see happy people
All around. He doesn't
Say you are hell bound?
G-d has kept me in place,
Down on my knees
Always
You can't do as you please
I love him
I hear him
I wish him
Happy 66
______________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
A Quote That Burns With Truth
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Acting is all about honesty.
If you can fake that, you've got it made.
![]() |
| George Burns (1896-1996) |
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