The Still and Black of Night
by Susan Cameron-Honaker
In complete black of night, the air was still and soft. The sound;
clicking, snapping, of every small creature could be heard. The
low, kettle-drum sound of the large owls swung back and forth from
one unseen area to the other, yet, not so far from each other,
their deep musical drumming, echoing back, forth, one to the other.
Back and forth in rythym; the sound in all it's syncrhonized
musical including the sounds of the summer night of bull frogs,
small creatures, grasshoppers, and an assortment of insects
chirping from lower to higher notes in the woods and with those
closer by chirping in high rattles. A smaller owl chirps in, the
timing just in exact intervals, hooting with a high-tuned soprano
addition as to horray like a softer snare drum, the wondering beat
of the other larger owls. The orchestra of nature continues in a
rythymic beat with the prominence of the larger owls as a
conductor. As black as night, listening to this orchestra, and
gazing at the sky, every patch of celestial patch, and star, is
prominently displayed in its total array of vast magnificance. The
night was still, with the most spectactular and showy display and
epic tunes.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
पेर्पेतुअलिस्ट Wars
The perpetual linear minds and actions in the same war,
the same war, the same wars;
Democracy exists less so
than as its bemusement of subject only before
Same existence, same minds, same ideological unreasons
of their assorted reasons as opposites as well
in ancient paths still in linear motion of actions and ideologies of the old
not one moment are coutries in rest but
as of those without history in part only told
No advance in civility through the cracks of the perpetual war of the minds;
presently, as in 6500 B.C. manifests,
the same ancient wars remain in one continuous motion
no manifest of an intelligent human condition
or system beyond the same continuous state of affairs
Where Tolemy, and Augustus would not laugh at such
as they may have in the past
of ancient barbaric ideas of a linear nature in perpetual action,
minds in ancient quests
Linear ideologies, even billions of dualities of minds,
all in action in the same or opposition of quest
Not so undefined as to the studious;
let there be some day that world
in reality and intelligence manifest
the same war, the same wars;
Democracy exists less so
than as its bemusement of subject only before
Same existence, same minds, same ideological unreasons
of their assorted reasons as opposites as well
in ancient paths still in linear motion of actions and ideologies of the old
not one moment are coutries in rest but
as of those without history in part only told
No advance in civility through the cracks of the perpetual war of the minds;
presently, as in 6500 B.C. manifests,
the same ancient wars remain in one continuous motion
no manifest of an intelligent human condition
or system beyond the same continuous state of affairs
Where Tolemy, and Augustus would not laugh at such
as they may have in the past
of ancient barbaric ideas of a linear nature in perpetual action,
minds in ancient quests
Linear ideologies, even billions of dualities of minds,
all in action in the same or opposition of quest
Not so undefined as to the studious;
let there be some day that world
in reality and intelligence manifest
Stories
The House on Seventh Avenue
By Susan Cameron-Honaker
Walking throughout the old historic home on Seventh Avenue; the era and period comes alive—a slight creaking of the floors under feet and a somewhat smokey smell with nostalgic pictures of the use of the fireplace brings to mind the people who may have used the aged home. The kitchen with an old, large, prominent fireplace still with old kettles and useful kitchen tools for boiling water, meats for cooking could almost be seen in action and smelled; the foods of old almost coming alive. A simple wooden dish sink and noticeable, but also simply-made, wooden preparation table sits on the other old brick wall. The old wooden floor with bricks showing in small areas out from the fireplace is used but in fine condition. A large dinner table, wood worn through the eras, and hand built is the center-piece of the kitchen; showing the work of the crafters of the day and bringing to mind their simple tools used in fabrications of such family living and furniture much unlike the modern convenience of mass manufacturing or modern tools. The couch, midsized, sits directly in the middle facing the fireplace, with late, sixteenth century style, the fabric lightened but still tightly pulled to its wooden edges. Walking into the living room, one can see another large fireplace, with thinned, round-edged bricks, almost inseparable from the wooden floor, extending into it. So fine but yet simple, the room represents the comfort of home life in the days. A settee with fine, worn fabric sits on the side wall next to a window. A small Shaker-like chair with a table just the right size for usage sits next to it with a finely embroidered fabric atop the table and a book. Simple, yet the house was welcoming to the guests throughout the ages, comfortable, with those who once resided there seemingly coming alive with activity.
by Susan Cameron-Honaker
The Other Peculiars in the Joy of Gardening
Suddenly a peculiarly odd appearance of one of the largest smiles was noticable, getting closer and seeing this smile actually wrapped around one of the largest garden spiders, busy and totally unconcerned with the outer-world, but self-focused on it's endeavors of this roundabout motion, swinging around and around like a sideways yo-yo, and the strings vividly seen from the body of its round belly, rotating wildly, stretching towards the other attached ends of the twigs and branches in the garden; the silk-like fibers with water droplets vividly strecthing as the spider attempts to rotate fast as it can. He, not the faintest attention to myself or the world. His colors shown brightly along with the large smile-like appearance, mostly yellow, with black designs around, appearing in artistic form, with other speckles of designs. The garden spider in all his work is a work within himself. Whether growing petunias, Daffodils, or Tulips, there is always another addition to the beauty and art of gardening.
By Susan Cameron-Honaker
Walking throughout the old historic home on Seventh Avenue; the era and period comes alive—a slight creaking of the floors under feet and a somewhat smokey smell with nostalgic pictures of the use of the fireplace brings to mind the people who may have used the aged home. The kitchen with an old, large, prominent fireplace still with old kettles and useful kitchen tools for boiling water, meats for cooking could almost be seen in action and smelled; the foods of old almost coming alive. A simple wooden dish sink and noticeable, but also simply-made, wooden preparation table sits on the other old brick wall. The old wooden floor with bricks showing in small areas out from the fireplace is used but in fine condition. A large dinner table, wood worn through the eras, and hand built is the center-piece of the kitchen; showing the work of the crafters of the day and bringing to mind their simple tools used in fabrications of such family living and furniture much unlike the modern convenience of mass manufacturing or modern tools. The couch, midsized, sits directly in the middle facing the fireplace, with late, sixteenth century style, the fabric lightened but still tightly pulled to its wooden edges. Walking into the living room, one can see another large fireplace, with thinned, round-edged bricks, almost inseparable from the wooden floor, extending into it. So fine but yet simple, the room represents the comfort of home life in the days. A settee with fine, worn fabric sits on the side wall next to a window. A small Shaker-like chair with a table just the right size for usage sits next to it with a finely embroidered fabric atop the table and a book. Simple, yet the house was welcoming to the guests throughout the ages, comfortable, with those who once resided there seemingly coming alive with activity.
by Susan Cameron-Honaker
The Other Peculiars in the Joy of Gardening
Suddenly a peculiarly odd appearance of one of the largest smiles was noticable, getting closer and seeing this smile actually wrapped around one of the largest garden spiders, busy and totally unconcerned with the outer-world, but self-focused on it's endeavors of this roundabout motion, swinging around and around like a sideways yo-yo, and the strings vividly seen from the body of its round belly, rotating wildly, stretching towards the other attached ends of the twigs and branches in the garden; the silk-like fibers with water droplets vividly strecthing as the spider attempts to rotate fast as it can. He, not the faintest attention to myself or the world. His colors shown brightly along with the large smile-like appearance, mostly yellow, with black designs around, appearing in artistic form, with other speckles of designs. The garden spider in all his work is a work within himself. Whether growing petunias, Daffodils, or Tulips, there is always another addition to the beauty and art of gardening.
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