Karen Stärke

     As it happened with many of my poems, short stories , novels ,  songs, screenplays , etc , this one has also been widespread on the internet credited  to someone already dead when I was born.    I've been creating poems (and other stuff) since childhood, when I thought they were made to be declaimed, not written. But I wrote this  one in my adult life, and, due to the ambiguity of the sound of 'Jacynth Song' in Portuguese language,  though not enough to give up on this dreamly mysterious verse, which wasn't the first mention to this intriguing term,  I signed it under the sugestive name of   E. E. Cummings , soon creating another good poem under the same name.      Like in 'Eternal Shine of a Spotless Mind' , I kept referring my own work even when I forgot about it, thus later I've created an illustration based on this very same poem. You Are Tired (I think), And So Am I You are tired, (I think) And so am I Of the always puzzle of living and doing. You

     While I was writing new episodes for a famous and yet uncredited TV comedy series , I came up with the plot in which one of the characters, an actor, is having trouble with getting into a character's skin and his best friend, originally a writer, that recently started seeing a psychoanalist, suggests he tries a psychology type test called Myers-Briggs - whose name, and its own creators' were invented - for composing the character.      I took inspiration from an already existing personality type test, that classifies the types into fleumatic, choleric, etc.  As I had tried it before and had trouble fitting within one of the types, I though that, in such cases, a better system would be a more comples one, with combinations of two or more determining personality traits. I set up for four, concluding that any such classification system is an abstration, and the more types, more precise it is.      As I digged into it, relying on my rudimentar knowledge of psychology, I found

La Luz Es Como El Agua - part 3 Read it in English        Llamados de urgencia, los bomberos forzaron la puerta del quinto piso, y encontraron la casa rebosada de luz hasta el techo. El sofá y los sillones forrados en piel de leopardo flotaban en la sala a distintos niveles, entre las botellas del bar y el piano de cola y su mantón de Manila que aleteaba a media agua como una mantarraya de oro. Los utensilios domésticos, en la plenitud de su poesía, volaban con sus proprias alas por el cielo de la cocina. Los instrumentos de la bande de guerra, que los niños usaban para bailar, flotaban al garete entre los peces de colores liberados de la pecera de mamá, que eran los únicos que flotaban vivos y felices en la vasta ciénaga iluminada. En el cuarto de baño flotaban los cepillos de dientes de todos, los preservativos de papá, los pomos de crema y la dentadura de mamá, y el televisor de la alcoba principal flotaba de costado, todavía encendido en el último episodio de la película de media n

La Luz Es Como El Agua - part 2 Read it in English      Esta aventura fabulosa fue el resultado de una ligereza mia cuando participaba en un seminario sobre la poesia de los utensilios domésticos. Totó me preguntó cómo era que la luz se encendia con sólo apretar un botón, y yo no tuve el valor de pensarlo dos veces.      La luz es como el agua - le contesté: uno abre el grifo, y sale.      De modo que siguieron navegando los miércoles en la noche, aprendiendo el manejo del sextante y la brújula, hasta que los padres regresaban del cine y los encontraban dormidos como ángeles de tierra firme. Meses después, ansiosos de ir más lejos, pidieron un equipo de pesca submarina. Con todo: máscaras, aletas, tanques y escopetas de aire comprimido.      - Está mal que tengan en el cuarto de servicio un bote de remos que no les sirve para nada - dijo el padre -. Pero está peor que quieran tener además equipos de buceo.      - ?Y si nos ganamos la gardenia de oro del primer semestre? - dijo Joel.   

      I wrote this short story many years ago, while I was in college and started taking Spanish language lessons in a idiom school. I wrote it as an assigment for my classes, originally in Spanish.  It's been credited to another (real?) author on the internet, with the date of 78, but it's decades younger than that.  No, I didn't ghostwrote this. My service offerings as ghostwriter is recent and much due to the situation I'm currently in, which seems like one obvious consequence of having my intellectual property used without permission. I only did two ghostwriting services in the past, as a kid. One of those resulted in a shared guard of the prize, modest for an adult, but a real treasure for two kids at that time. This story inspired in my childhood; since young age, I was interested in science and technology, hence my many screenplays in sci-fi, and was fortunate enough to get a correct explanation, thus being able to write this story.  It will be published in part

       I created this short story orally, by the time I still believed there were wolves on pathways to grandma's house. I used to create lots of them, mostly as plays, but this one was made as a narrative. When I was a teen, I rewrote it for an English class assignment and shortly after that, my school's newspaper published it uncredited. No, it wasn't in 1939; I'm not that old. The Little Girl and the Wolf      One afternoon a big wolf waited in a dark forest for a little girl to come along carrying a basket of food to her grandmother. Finally a little girl did come along and she was carrying a basket of food. "Are you carrying that basket to your grandmother?" asked the wolf. The little girl said yes, she was. So the wolf asked her where her grandmother lived and the little girl told him and he disappeared into the wood.      When the little girl opened the door of her grandmother's house she saw that there was somebody in bed with a nightcap on. She h