Walk about

First, Drew has let me know about some chemical means to create my anti-microwave.... i will keep you posted about progress.

Today, I topped up my phone at the store on Tottenham Court Rd, near the huge Centre Point building near Oxford Street. Well, outside that building, adjacent to the road is this large fountain. It has four or five different streams that spray up, and under most circumstances fall gently back into the large pool of water. Well, today the wind was gusting through the street so strongly that when the water would shoot up into the air, the wind blew thick mists out of the fountains area to the sidewalk, across the road, and even to the opposite sidewalk. At the intersection near the fountain, this double-decker bus had its windshield wipers on there was so much agua, and it was clear blue sky out! People on the adjacent sidewalk were getting soaked, and I (on the opposite side) was getting sprayed by this sporadic mist as well. It was so bizarre, and I thought pretty refreshing as well. Well, it was a pretty happy sight; i scribbled some lines down as i crossed over the street, but i can only read have of them now. So much for perpetual inspiration.

Well, after watching the fountain, I went and purchased my new pack - Lowe Alpine (85 Litre). It is wayyyy sweet, and puts my old Mountainsmith pack to shame. It will serve me well in travel, though i didn't have to have it for this April. My other one could have gotten the job done. I am more excited about really getting out and hiking/camping with it when i get back this summer. It is a slim and taller fit, which i prefer over a wider pack. I packed it today so that i could adjust and fit it, and oh! is it comfortable. I had tried to purchase this pack over the internet TWICE in the last month, but it kept being sent back, after delivery failed because of address problems and C.O.D. difficulties. Fucking UPS.

Later tonight I will post some stuff about my 4 day trip to Amsterdam last weekend.

Things I am missing:

- ICE in my drinks
- npr


Things I am not missing about America:

- George Bush
- interstate travel

Anti-Microwaves

I think they should make a kitchen device that does the opposite function of a microwave. That is, it makes stuff cold really fast. I think that would be very useful! Don't you hate it when you leave something in the normal microwave for too long, and it's so hot that you cannot eat it for 15 minutes. How great would an Anti-Microwave be in that situation? Or what about when you buy beer that is not very cold? Or, soda or something? And you have to wait for hours for it to get cold in the fridge or freezer...Or, you want to make homemade popscicles really fast? Or perhaps you are just inordinately fond of ice! And your normal fridge just cannot keep you satisfied. This product is for you. There are plenty of other uses too, and someday it will be invented. And i should get credit.

This is frustrating

Well, Cellar Door officially rejected my poems. I cannot help but feel both frustrated and irritated. Maybe I have no reason; but maybe this will make me try harder? Or, maybe try less at my verse? Ahh. I just don't know. I mean, if they want, I could try to give them some post-modern dribble all about angst, with no form and confused meanings. Some whining profundity of words that is really neo-nonsense. But I would rather write some neo-nonsense of words that is actually profundity.

I try to keep to some traditional forms, poetic movement, and structures. Ok, well not rhyme schemes, but that's something to master later. I will have the Spenserian Stanza down by August. Maybe. But really, i read this "poem" in the Carolina Quarterly's poetry section by some professor from Indiana (or some mid-west uni) that was a 2-paragraph letter to a farm-chicken. An actual letter, addressed and signed. It was bizarre, perversly sexualized, and painfully fragmented. I am sorry, but what the fuck? I want someone to tell me what the fuck it is all about. It might be meaningful, but i don't much think it is poetry.

But, truly, why do i need recognition? Trivial publication? I guess i don't need it, but i do want it. It is nice, you know? I have fallen out of a position of recognition and acclaim, since entering college. I did extremely well in high school. I was lauded, respected. I don't much feel like I am anymore. I have become lost in a university student body, known more by Personal ID number than by name, much less personality. OK, Yes, i have wonderful friends, and yes i have good relationships with certain wonderful professors. ...So, I can define myself through my own thoughts and self-impressions (ie, I can define myself to myself), but it is nice to have some reflection, however muddled, from those around you--to define myself to others. Sometimes i think this is important in Art and life, but then sometimes i think it might be completely inconsequential. I guess, all that I can know for sure is that I am at a time in my life where making myself known to others is becoming essential, even if it is only for professional and educational goals.

I am sorry readers. Please don't lose faith. I will update soon. Running out the door to Scotland for the weekend.

eh

And God coughed until
His spittle flecked the ether
Of the blue heavens.

POEM

The idea behind this poem revolves around a woman being the object of inspiration for a poet--a bard who might write the most beautiful poem ever about this woman that he simply sees in passing, but in fact she may be the lonliest or saddest person in the world.

I saw a stunning woman with a flying multi-colored scarf on the street a few days ago that sparked the projection. It doesn't have a title really, suggestions?

--------------------------------------------------------------

"A Sketch"

The evening zephyrs lick her bowed pale face,
Her scarf painting soft words in the wind—
Words carried down turreted side-streets to warm window panes,
Where poets watch and listen,
Fluttering fugues that are caught and put into poets’ pockets,
Sipping basement coffee, staring at floor cracks.

Listening to the frothy white espresso machine
Steaming white cream, the mighty taut fountain,
Making stately pleasure-domes, cinnamon and mocha
In porcelain cups, by cigarette butts.
They memorialize her, and sing her joyous song,
With ink-pen and silent-lipped words.

But, lonely she waits in scarf and coat, in line
To buy swollen fruit, to return home and wait—
And one hand to push a blonde lock behind an ear
And one to finger an old silver-chained locket,
Whose carved impression is nearly smooth from sorrow.

The woman behind the white curtain, she waits.
And the poet writes of her grace, while the woman lonely waits.
By the boarded up hearth in her pale heavy room,
She stands in perfume embalmed night gown.
And the woman behind the curtain waits,
And the filament of life trembles.

-----------------------------------------

London Underground

Things i like about the Tube:

1) "Poems on the Underground" - I'm not sure when this was started, but nearly all of the subway carriages have poems displayed next to some of the advertisements and maps. The City of London sponsors this, and i think they switch them out every 2 months or so. I think there is a group of 6-8 poems displayed for each two pmonth period. What a great program, because i always forget to bring something to read on the Tube. Yesterday i saw one that was an Ezra Pound tanslation of an old Chinese poem:
...........................................................................
Blue, blue is the grass about the river
And the willows have overfilled the close garden.
And within, the mistress, in the midmost of her youth,
White, white of face, hesitates, passing the door.
Slender, she puts forth a slender hand;

And she was a courtesan in the old days,
And she has married a sot,
Who now goes drunkenly out
And leaves her too much alone.
...........................................................................

I really like that one. And to think, I'd have never known it existed without the poetry program. Props to London. "Blue, blue is the grass about the river" - what a wonderful line.

2) Whate else do I like....well, I like how they have "Busking Stations" set up in the pedestrian areas between the trains and exits, where people perform music. They section off these little areas and guys sign up to play their guitar or piano or fiddle or even just sing. How great is that? Really great, that's what. This dude yesterday was rocking out so hard on his keyboard, and he had the biggest smile on his face.

3) So Efficient and Clean

4) People Watching

Coat Checks

So, again, today i checked my coat when i went to the Barbican Gallery, and it sent me thinking about how odd that concept is to me. I would never do it if everyone else around wasn't doing it as well. Here in London, every place has a coat check. In North Carolina (and certainly Georgia) coat check counters are rare creatures. I usually just go with the old "tie-it-around-the-waist middle-school acrylic-wind-jacket" style. I don't have any rational reason for thinking it, but i always imagine the coat check person is going to just run away with my jacket. Maybe that is because that is what i would do if i worked at one of the counters. I usually give them the eye right before i hand over my coat, you know size them up, guage their credibility. Maybe check to make sure they don't have a fresh pair of athletic shoes on and a clear route to the exit. And that little thing with the number they give you to claim your coat later...what if I lose that tiny thing? Can i never get my jacket back?

Bzzz...