Tootfinder

Professions my family name doesn't really fit:
- A reggae band ("Bob Marley and the Kosmaczewskis")
- A pasta factory ("Rigatoni Kosmaczewski")
- A sushi restaurant ("Kosmaczewski San")
- An Argentine football player ("…with the number 10, Lionel Kosmaczewski…")
- A Swiss skier ("…now is the turn of Reto Kosmaczewski…")
- A rapper ("Yo here's MC Kosmaczewski on da floor")
- A French poet (…

È uscito Sir Oliver Skardy - Biografia legalizzata dal poeta venessian, dai Pitura Freska ad oggi
IN LIBRERIA E IN EDICOLA IL LIBRO SIR OLIVER SKARDY - BIOGRAFIA LEGALIZZATA DAL POETA VENESSIAN, DAI PITURA FRESKA AD OGGI.
http…

Coming tomorrow: a new song (preview from my upcoming folksong album) and song video
#MusicVideo
Watch for it on https://muz4now.com/?utm_source=dl…

Stan Stewart - aka @muz4now - the muse is present
Stan Stewart is a poet, musician, and human being who enjoys connecting with people and nature. Since his focus is on improvisational music, the inspiration he gets from these connections is often the source of his music.

Brian Wilson, Beach Boys visionary leader and summer's poet laureate, dies at 82 (Hillel Italie/Associated Press)
https://apnews.com/article/brian-wilson-dies-beach-boys-2272762e46c46820a7af09ffc73cb9a6
http://www.memeorandum.com/250611/p135#a250611p135

Do you keep a journal or diary? Would you like to?
I invite you try out the ancient and contemporary form of tanka (as transformed by poet Harryette Mullen) as a way of documenting something of your own intimate experience of these extraordinary times.
#poetry #journal

Today’s addition to my bank of contributions to TiKTok cinema is an elegy to a lost poet-turned-Slopbot.
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNdBaeev7/

This https://arxiv.org/abs/2505.08052 has been replaced.
initial toot: https://mastoxiv.page/@arXiv_csSI_…

NAZM: Network Analysis of Zonal Metrics in Persian Poetic Tradition
This study formalizes a computational model to simulate classical Persian poets' dynamics of influence through constructing a multi-dimensional similarity network. Using a rigorously curated dataset based on Ganjoor's corpus, we draw upon semantic, lexical, stylistic, thematic, and metrical features to demarcate each poet's corpus. Each is contained within weighted similarity matrices, which are then appended to generate an aggregate graph showing poet-to-poet influence. Further network investi…

Calamus 23 This moment as I sit alone
A promise of global unity, Whitman sharing his adulation for men in other countries.
I guess this is an antidote to Whitman's nationalism? His celebrations of America seem sweet and sincere but they are very American-centric. Here he's explicitly saying men of other lands can be just as wise, beautiful, or benevolent as American men. It seems unusual that he feels he has to say it explicitly.
As for the queer reading, his conclusion is
I know we should be brethren and lovers
There's that word, "lovers". It's so brash it's hard to understand. It seems uncharacteristically direct even understanding Whitman as a gay poet. Maybe this is some 19th century romantic language, mixing what feels very gay in with a more general celebration of brotherhood? Or maybe it is literally what it says, Whitman eroticizing international men.

At the end of the day, I am haunted splinters, trying to hold to the silhouette of a girl who knows how, a girl with clear aspirations and legible scars that fit neatly into all the boxes. At the end of the day, I am a fool, dressing up a raw heart in wild flowers, because bloody things are only acceptable when they're dressed. At the end of the day, I am a poet. #Mastoprompt #microprompt #WSS366

At the end of the day, I am haunted splinters, trying to hold to the silhouette of a girl who knows how, a girl with clear aspirations and legible scars that fit neatly into all the boxes. At the end of the day, I am a fool, dressing up a raw heart in wild flowers, because bloody things are only acceptable when they're dressed. At the end of the day, I am a poet. #Mastoprompt #microprompt #WSS366

Calamus 17 Of him I love day and night
A disturbing poem about death, the death of a lover, the death of a city, the death of the poet. And Whitman's own dismissal of death, or at least of memorializing it.
Reading this as someone who grew up in the 80s, I can only read this in reflection on the AIDS crisis. Of my own community's deaths.
And I found that every place was a burial-place,
The houses full of life were equally full of death
The poem doesn't offer any solace in this reading. It is just a marker of death and being exposed to so much death that we are inured to it.