Noon, I re-awoke. Made some tea, lounged about, did computer upgrade work, took a well-needed shower, then off to the grocery store, which I haven't seen for at least two months. I have been avoiding buying groceries, while eating up much of my old dry beans, potatoes, stored meat, and whatever. Now my cupboards, needed some shopping. I only spent $85 bucks, but I am stocked for another month at least. Amazing how cheap one can eat if one cooks for himself. I only cook for Artistic (and lousy local restaurants), reasons, but it is quite economical, if one avoids expensive stuff that is usually bad for you.
Drove the scooter around the "Island", the part of Logan City that I live in. (Used to be a real Island between rivers many years ago). Has some of the coolest places in town to live, but since it's at the bottom off a wet canyon, it gets damned cold. My little 50cc "Derbi" scooter, scooted my big ass around just fine, and passed 40 MPH at one stretch. This bike was modified, and crazy fast for a 50 cc, and sounds like an angry mosquito. It was about 45 degrees out and refreshingly chilly.
Came home, made a pot roast, which is still simmering in the pot as I write 4 hours later. One should never hurry while cooking! Play some music, have some wine, let the food do it's thing, just keep the heat low and check on things from time to time, tasting each checkup.
After much talking with many loved ones, via phone or facebook, while drinking a bit of wine and surfing old websites, I started getting a bit nostalgic about a few old poems I wrote, now deeply buried on Myspace, which I plan to rescue, re-write and send over here for safe keeping.'
Here's one that I rewrite every couple years:
Ok, that's one. And it was first written in 1995, I did a few more changes here in 2008, and most recently today in 2011.
Here's another written back in Spring 2008...
Observations of the Night:
Copyright A.Barnes 2008
I love the night,
I love it's quiet, rich, subtle, clarity.
I feel it's deep, all-knowing, beauty, and light.
so still, so perfect...
The depths of peace can only be fathomed at this time.
Late at night, is a journey through ideas and mist,
when every smell and sound has it's own meaning.
The night is a perfect time to wander and think.
The quiet is formless, home of the organic things.
The idea of death, and it's awful glow, often stab the air,
with sirens of panic and angst. Burning and fighting can always be heard...
along the flashing streets midst nights of neon and wire.
This is the pain of ignorance.
This the pain of the daily riot.
But this gorgeous fair night quickly returns to peace...
Night-time, is a lovely black angel, full of good-will, and power.
Her benevolence and humor are known to all who will listen.
Her happiness and joy are felt by those who come clear.
Her sweetness is almost beyond our perception.
Her movement is silence, impossible to hear.
Night! You gorgeous black beauty...Please stop by and speak to me.
Night! You bringer of wonderful dreams...Speak to me!
Night, O' Harbinger of the chance cards of the future...
You cast out the wild dust;
which emanates from the chaos of the day....
All I ask, is that you continue to "speak to me" and never leave,
and I will always hold you dearly!
Lovely night angel, deliver us from this terrible world of daylight,
bring us all hope from this sun's oppressive destruction.
Lead us to all the dark secrets that you possess:
Then wake us up gently,
in the morning's silent creeping waves of light.
And I will miss you deeply when you're gone.
I will dream of your prowess, while crawling through the fiery day.
As I struggle for thirsty existence, I will remember your peaceful beauty,
When my work is done and all this shit is over,
I shall return to you with perfect faith,
and admire your timeless grace.
A. B. 3/2011