compound complex

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Posts by compound complex

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  17

  That; Which; Who

  by compound complex in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  using that, which and who to introduce clauses and when to use commas:.

  the little boy who lives next door is a noisy, hell-raising brat.

  "who lives next store" describes one little boy in particular, not the entire neighborhood of nice and respectful children; therefore, that clause is not set off by commas.

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  compound complex

  As always, Terry, many thanks for your wise words and humble questioning over that which truly matters.

  I say "I dunno" a lot, too! You alliterate most deliciously . . .

  Best.

  CC
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  30

  Detective Walter M. Friday

  by compound complex in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  detective walter m. friday -- able, determined, gritty -- lurched out the grime-stained door bearing his name, not bothering to lock up the dingy office he called headquarters and home, the tiny walled-in box hunkered down in just another sad and typically squalid ghetto of his beloved city by the bay.

  feel the enwrapping fog, hear the muffled neighborhood screams and cries, disappear into nothingness .

  not one to spill his guts or lavish affection indiscreetly, yet this rudely handsome loner, detective friday, harbored a hidden, smoldering passion for his life's love -- work -- no concern for his person or ravages of the heart, ever certain to lie in a path not yet trod.. .

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  compound complex

  Thanks, Bizzy, for your ever welcomed posts!

  I was concerned about the spate of bullets in my pats because there was no other explanation for my indigestion. I don't want to digest yet . . .

  LOVE PGW!

  Many thanks, dear Bee.

  CoCo
• 
  17

  That; Which; Who

  by compound complex in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  using that, which and who to introduce clauses and when to use commas:.

  the little boy who lives next door is a noisy, hell-raising brat.

  "who lives next store" describes one little boy in particular, not the entire neighborhood of nice and respectful children; therefore, that clause is not set off by commas.

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  2. 
  3. 
• 

  compound complex

  Using that, which and who to introduce clauses and when to use commas:

  The little boy who lives next door is a noisy, hell-raising brat.

  "Who lives next store" describes one little boy in particular, not the entire neighborhood of nice and respectful children; therefore, that clause is not set off by commas. Those four highlighted words comprise a restrictive clause.

  My brother, who lives in Tibet, is not a spiritual man.

  "Who lives in Tibet" is not essential to the sentence. Bro could live in Brooklyn Heights and still not be a spiritual man.

  Who is used when people are the subject.

  Mother's portrait, which had been hanging over the fireplace mantle, is in need of restoration because of faulty fluing.
  
  
  "which had been hanging over the fireplace mantle" is helpful but nonessential information. Use which to introduce a non-restrictive clause and set it off with commas.

  The book that was stolen from the library was a first edition.
  
  
  "that was stolen from the library" is a restrictive clause, introduced by that, and is not set off by commas. It is one book amongst thousands that was pilfered.
• 
  33

  Gran is dying.

  by LouBelle in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  my dear granny hasn't been feeling well for some time and has had a problem keeping anything down.

  she had lost a lot of weight and gone for many tests.

  those tests came back and on friday we were told she has cancer of the pancreas.

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  compound complex

  Love to you and dear Granny, LouBelle.

  So very sorry.

  CoCo
• 
  30

  Detective Walter M. Friday

  by compound complex in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  detective walter m. friday -- able, determined, gritty -- lurched out the grime-stained door bearing his name, not bothering to lock up the dingy office he called headquarters and home, the tiny walled-in box hunkered down in just another sad and typically squalid ghetto of his beloved city by the bay.

  feel the enwrapping fog, hear the muffled neighborhood screams and cries, disappear into nothingness .

  not one to spill his guts or lavish affection indiscreetly, yet this rudely handsome loner, detective friday, harbored a hidden, smoldering passion for his life's love -- work -- no concern for his person or ravages of the heart, ever certain to lie in a path not yet trod.. .

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  compound complex

  "Can I help? I offered.

  "What a mess!" she wailed. "Something soaked through the bag and the bottom fell out. Oh, look! I shouldn't have put all my eggs in one basket. My goodness!"

  Not one to cry over spilled milk, I took the gooey carton from her hand and tossed the scrambled eggs into a nearby trash can. I bolted over to the newsstand, dropped four bits down the coin slot and opened the glass door, pulling out the last copy of The Evening Post Gazette. Rising from her knees and straightening up, the young woman watched quietly as I clumped her remaining groceries onto the center of the spread-out newspaper. I drew up the north, south, east and west corners of the rag and folded them over the contents.

  "My, you're a knight in shining armor," she sighed.

  "Well, thanks," I laughed, "but I'm afraid my armor's a bit rusty."
• 
  30

  Detective Walter M. Friday

  by compound complex in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  detective walter m. friday -- able, determined, gritty -- lurched out the grime-stained door bearing his name, not bothering to lock up the dingy office he called headquarters and home, the tiny walled-in box hunkered down in just another sad and typically squalid ghetto of his beloved city by the bay.

  feel the enwrapping fog, hear the muffled neighborhood screams and cries, disappear into nothingness .

  not one to spill his guts or lavish affection indiscreetly, yet this rudely handsome loner, detective friday, harbored a hidden, smoldering passion for his life's love -- work -- no concern for his person or ravages of the heart, ever certain to lie in a path not yet trod.. .

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  compound complex

  It's a nasty night; the weather is dirty. If I was smart I'd stay indoors and let the world take care of its own worries. Who says I'm smart?

  Pulling myself up and out of the old lounger I piled into earlier, I'm remembering the promise I made earlier. I can't shake it. It niggles me like a corkscrew, winding itself in and then coming out, causing pain and screams. She had to be so unforgettable, so downright needy.

  I was taken in by her that night she was leaving the corner market and her grocery bag tore open. Everything inside spilled out and plunked onto the sidewalk. Folks going either way minded their own important business and scurried on . . . to the bar or to wailing kids at home or to who know where. Glancing at the poor woman -- dressed plain and sort of average looking -- I walked over from the lamppost I was holding up and offered a brief word and helping hand.
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  16

  People who actually practice detachment seem to be really annoying to those who don't.

  by Hortensia in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  juust saying .

  .

  ..

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  compound complex

  Don't stab me with a fork till I'm done . . .

  I learned about detachment from attending Al-Anon meetings. No more CoCo a doormat!

  Hi, Hortensia, btw!

  CC
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  6

  Older, Wiser . . . Jaded. . . .

  by compound complex in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  i try to forget remembrance past, admittedly futile but always worth one more try.

  i hit the sheets and tell myself, "this time it's going to work.

  i will sleep.

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  compound complex

  I'm very happy to be where I am today in real life.

  I love real life!

  Cheers!

  CoCo
• 
  17

  Dream or Nightmare?

  by compound complex in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  i have reached a frontier dreamt about as a child -- the outer reaches of a vast realm under stars.. though an imaginative and inquisitive lad, my forward-looking mind and open heart could never have conjured up this fabulous, this infinite unreality into which i have been catapulted.

  what may appear a distortion of my former reality i tentatively accept as a cosmic tableau that threatens both to fascinate and crush my frail, puny body and spirit.

  i am unable to comprehend what i gaze upon with frightened, delicious terror.. my recent escape from lunaria was of sheer necessity: my people have been overtaken by a scorpion race of alien malefactors whose intent toward us was not one of beneficient intervention but that of conquest.

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  compound complex

  Ah, yes, Myelaine -- a most vehement flame!

  for you and yours.

  CoCo
• 
  17

  Dream or Nightmare?

  by compound complex in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  i have reached a frontier dreamt about as a child -- the outer reaches of a vast realm under stars.. though an imaginative and inquisitive lad, my forward-looking mind and open heart could never have conjured up this fabulous, this infinite unreality into which i have been catapulted.

  what may appear a distortion of my former reality i tentatively accept as a cosmic tableau that threatens both to fascinate and crush my frail, puny body and spirit.

  i am unable to comprehend what i gaze upon with frightened, delicious terror.. my recent escape from lunaria was of sheer necessity: my people have been overtaken by a scorpion race of alien malefactors whose intent toward us was not one of beneficient intervention but that of conquest.

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  compound complex

  I pull away, turn on my heel and make for home. Escaping the glaring eye of the other, I realize, is only temporary. As I walk the last quarter mile toward home, there is my tormentor, staring me squarely in the face from on high. Twenty minutes earlier the dark entity was perched loftily upon a promontory, ensconced in that deadened wood. As I hasten anxiously homeward, I look only at my feet in order to avoid the persistent draw of the sinister landscape ahead on the ridge.
  
  On my porch, I reach with a jerk for my key chain. I fumble as I look about to my right, to my left. Finally . . . latch key poised between thumb and index . . . insert . . . turn the key . . . knob. Ultimate relief, at last, as I enter the cool, dark of my abode. Collapsing upon my threadbare wingback, I try to blot out images that began surfacing in my pounding cranium when I was in its leering presence.

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  I have made repeated attempts to move on with my life since your flagrant decision to plague my every thought, my every move. I cannot move forward. A change of venue, that of diet, even new clothes have afforded me but a frivolous and temporary elevation of spirits. Accordingly, as I am thus paralyzed by a most profound sense of anguish, I lie in bed, starring at a black sky, and pine anew for what little contentment life once offered up. A mellow and simple contentment I owned before your decision to inhabit my home, my body, my spirit. Whenever will you cease following me about? You have gripped me by the nape of my neck and refuse to release me. My begging for mercy from a hunter lioness would prove an endeavor far more certain of success. You are a wily mistress, one whose cruel hold is that of iron. Between the mind's stabs at my heart and your refusal to disappear from my view, I am losing that steely mastery of self that has been pounded into my once unquestioning conscience.

  In complete control of all that my eyes now behold, you pull me steadily backward into times past. Times that, I thought, were gone and forgotten. Nearly forgotten but for a brief remembrance triggered, in strange and bitter irony, by that most brief recollection of a fleeting joy. Sorrow forces upon me the certainty of her undeniable existence, her penetrating essence. You are she . . .
  
  You have stolen my present, sabotaged my future, yet you say nothing.