🐜
While
reading
a
certain
poem,
Suddenly
an
itchy
feeling
occurred
there
upon
my
head
(I could feel the irritating itchiness as i continued to read)
(Or maybe it was that i read to continue)
(There was intensified itchiness that persisted)
And
Suddenly
one
realized
the
power
of
suggestion
and(anyway it wasn’t “my head” like someone or something inside it owned it or anything)
There is here
We are them
“I” is not
When is where
Past is future
Future is past
We are water
Up is down
Uncurled is curled
Tears are joy
Hate is mindless
Poem is reading
Awake not dreaming
See not knowing
Pour was spill
Clean was dirty
Little is big
Born was dead
Left to right
Wings are resting
Desert was thirsty
Jungle was noise
War is sorrow
Flowers are calling
She is he
Silence is golden
Once is always
Time is ticking
Each wish came upon an intangible dream.
All dreams are intangible, being the virtual aspirations or speculations that they are. In a world past dreamers, he or she who sees things as they are (beyond distortion), ironically, does not merely see things… because things are of thought’s plurality that is largely illusory and superficial (though important to respond to accordingly at times).
Life, despite what most people think, isn’t a series of things. Life is beyond the plurality of appearances that are tricks upon the mind. Life is not wholeness either, for such wholeness, for most, is just another thing, just another abstraction to dream about.
While in the garden, the handsome blue Hostas and the attractive, purple Columbine flowers were not separate from the mind; then they were beyond mere labeling and definition; spontaneously, they transformed into what cannot be described or dreamed about. Then beauty was the “observing” and was beyond mere “observing.”
In that garden,
there was careful “observing”
and there was “beyond observing.”
The two danced
in harmony
beyond fabricated plurality and
wholeness.
Curious, the ants, as to what moved
past them in a vastness.
here is what was then is now
pictures wish from image seen
thoughts could shovel laughs of dream
here is now what then was would
fish will fly and birds can swim
windows swallow rocks of round
finding always lost was found
death can end and time can die
stomach growling dogs malign
sweet love flowers grow entwined
mediocrity thinks itself refined
ladders lean past fear must fall
warring noise to peaceful hug
key to lock then moss to cloud
quiet tranquil not too loud
rectify what woke up wrong
waters boil tempers rise
placid insight formless cool
wolf in disguise needs some wool
wisdom not just empty schemes
Build a shape of love to him
and truth will come stay with you
Build a way to follow him
and wind will surely find you
Find in cycle
Wind in air
Cast in our lures
Stand with truth
Love adventure
Follow air
And our lives are to feel
the love
Red Tailed Ichneumon … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
When the vegetarian cameraman
took aim at the vegetarian mosquito
no one there was
(really)
out for blood
When Barney, the bulky, bullheaded Bullfrog
decided to take up residence under my car tire,
i told him politely, “Barney, that is quite a perilous spot
at which you can — most definitely — easily expire.”
Barney just sat there without a trembling twitch
and said, “You sure are a very worrisome bloke;
i can assure you, most greenheartedly,
that we brave Bullfrogs are, indubitably, not afraid to croak.”
Then i realized that all of my careful cautions and
pale-lectures would not cause Barney to fearfully quiver,
so i grabbed his humongous, bullheaded, brown-old butt
and — despite his slimy objections — threw him into the river.
can couldn’t
and did didn’t
but nice knew
quaintness quickened
“be”s beckoned
while “wouldn’t”s were
“me”s mingled
“haven’t”s heard
steps stood
and said sermoned
cruel counted
must might
having had
tried thought
cricket chirped
but will won’t
_______________________________________________________________
[Note: Tree Crickets are very elusive; if they see (or hear) you coming, they hide on the opposite side of the bush or foliage that they are on. Please note the tympanal membrane on the front leg of this specimen; it is used as a hearing mechanism… an ear.]
With this third time of me bringing fresh meat to
the Colony,
i am sure to finally get the recognition that
i deserve.
Hopefully, i will be promoted up the ranks
and will be remembered as “The Great Provider” by
the Colony.
(All of this voluminous Beetle Meat is tough to
move, by the way!)
I will persevere and
will get this wonderful bounty to
the Colony.
Goodness! I keep hearing the huge, bipedal ape up above,
with his camera, singing the following song to me:
“Getting to know you
Getting to know all about you
Getting to like you
Getting to hope you like me…”
They scramble and they gamble
and they weep and they run
They wiggle and giggle
and they tan toast in sun
They piddle and paddle…
pull dandelions from fresh grass
and waddle and dawdle
and fish for striped bass
They fumble and they tumble
and they struggle in time
They chisel and they grizzle
and they wrote this short rhyme
She prayed,
and when she prayed,
the whole world prayed with her.
Her eyes, those large bulbous eyes,
saw everything worth praying for,
and everything needed preying.
She preyed on butterflies, bees, moths,
and on a number of other things. It was what she preyed
that mattered, and it was the way she preyed.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
[Note: This is a very unusual (very rare) Praying Mantis for our north-central Illinois area. It is probably a Carolina Mantis. These are southern mantids but, due to global warming, are moving more north. This one has wonderful chameleonic abilities. Note how it amazingly blends in with the different color tones of the park bench. It is a female and seems to be loaded with fertile eggs. It may not have mated with a male at any time whatsoever. Female mantises can lay many completely fertile eggs without a male. When this happens, the offspring are perfect clones of the mother.]
To disturb others with words
on a Wordless Wednesday
is a grave mistake
in a dark cemetery of verbal spiders
Houses running to adjacent houses
bags opening smiles rustling
spooky sounds from darkness growling
Halloween Time
comes laughinglyscreaming down the giggling sidewalks
of candydropping thankyous
Don’t look behind you
Something’s there twistinglyclutching
Shadowysoon under your midnight bed
We see you clearly
and we have a wonderful treat coming for you
on Halloween
coming for you!
__________________________________________________________________________
And here is an excerpt from the Monster in the Mirror song sung by Grover… (not that i ever watch Sesame Street with my big bird friends).
one budding diminutive why
staring at the sky
in that beautiful youthful wonderment of innocence
beyond piggish power
and far from cultivated fear
so beyond the grip of authority
beyond stuffy temples
and stale priests and gurus
beyond tests
and drunken parties
sweet sky staring
further than thought’s weary boredom
and so far away from cold shoulds and musts
alive
whole
and unprogrammed
also looking down
of course
at tiny grasshoppers and katydids
Fourteen steps climbed to the top
from the bottom
An hour and fifteen minutes moved a short hand
and a long hand
One fishing line ignorantly reeled in
what it thought it wasn’t
Three opinions typed what
was surely right
Seven sayings scanned the screen
in a zigzag fashion
Thirty-seven pieces of candy
looked forward to Halloween
Twenty-five Black-Eyed Susans were arrested
for trespassing
It takes a lot of hard work to keep the colony healthy and thriving but i
realize that the colony and i are one. We are each other. What each of us does is done for all. (Unlike those ruthless, competitive, bipedal apes, we are 100% cooperative and act for all.)
So here i am,
hauling another large bounty of meat for the colony to feast upon.
Maybe now i will finally get the recognition that i deserve.
Maybe now i will be the great worker-ant that all of the
other ants will aspire to be like.
But first, i must get this great bounty to the anthill.
While they are feasting, they will be thinking of me.
Oh lucky me for finding this treasure of voluminous, wonderful meat!
P.S. — Don’t cringe! (I know that you bipedal apes are watching… and judging.) You bipedal apes eat hairy cattle and pigs and unquestioningly think and feel that it isn’t gross in the least.
So don’t judge!
There was a clock
with many hands
And the space between a certain hand
at a specific area of the face
(i.e., that limited space between the hand and the face)
constituted a certain consciousness
Now each of the hands had different lengths and colors
and different numerals and experiences upon the face
to go through
There were black hands with long lengths
there were white hands with short lengths
there were wide little yellow hands
there were thin long red hands
For one space of a hand to hate another space of a distant hand
was insanity
since each hand was a part of the same one clock
For one space of a hand
at four
to want to eventually be wiser at eight
was foolish
since the space at four
could never really be the space at eight
Unless the space at four
could fully realize that
it was the space of all of the other hands
There is the limited little dull space of the segregated self
and there is the not-so-limited timeless space of vast intelligence
vast compassion
Which would you rather be?
One takes no time whatsoever to get to
It was such tremendous luck finding this big green meal for the colony
It is very difficult to move all of this fine meat toward our anthill but
when I get it to the colony I will become a
great heroine
I will be known as the one who courageously
brought a lot of protein for the many larvae
all the while risking being stepped on by
those giant frightening bipedal apes
I will be revered and may even be promoted to
the job of attending to the Queen
Oh I am so very excited and happy
Winged and ready
to softly swirl
a long way off from
man’s sad sordid fabrications and smoggy surgings
Bright eyes see
beyond miserable madness(musts and can’ts)
and will fly
beyond stale circumscriptions
Will we succumb to whirlwinds of hard
indifference?
Will they plant their deadness into
our innocent minds?
That is up to you
We
(too many of us)
have treated nature as
a thing to be used
to be exploited
and not as a living beautiful delicate
extension of ourselves
to be guarded cherished protected
respected
loved
and cared for
His inquietude made him what he was…
a repetitive jumble of endlessly clamoring
mental symbols that were not realities
(i.e., they were the typical unreal, fabricated images of the mind).
Her quietude was the immense beauty that she was…
a comprehensive wholeness of undivided reality,
actualities of timeless life movement beyond the known
(i.e., beyond mere superficial symbols of thought).
Neural Networks Personified … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Marla, my wife, said that my poems occasionally need to be more uplifting, so the first poem (here) is meant to fulfill that end. The second poem is what was written before her comment.
Poem #1
Here in his hands
is a flowery treasure
with sweet petals and leaves
much joy beyond measure
He is of hopes and images where
as he ascends up in the elevator
flowing fields of smiling imaginary angels
open doors that were dreamt of later
Can we lift a luminous whole
and bring new minds out of below
rise to the top ever so mindfully
in a towering highrise deep in the heart of Chicago?
(Well, elevators are uplifting, aren’t they?)
Poem # 2
There was a pond
and every time a frog jumped into the pond
the pond became a little froggier
a little splashier
There was a grasshopper
and every time he landed upon a weed
the weed became a little leggier
a little jumpier
There was a propagandizing political news-channel
and every time a person watched it
the television became a little duller
and a lot more dim-witted
Leopard Frog, a species that will not survive long in a world filled with crass people who do not act diligently to prevent global warming and who think that “Windmills cause cancer.”. … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
(Based on a true story…)
They called her Little Icky Vicky(and she
cried a lot in pain)today
because of her distorted facial features
many people stared then quickly looked away
I called her Victoria & amiably sat next to her in grade school(&
always with her was very very kind)
There’s a lot of cold(cruel kids who name-call
with dark dead hearts)and blind
[Side Note: We saw the movie The Peanut Butter Falcon over the weekend. It is highly recommended. It contains scenes involving both bullying and compassion.]
Not Mere Facial Beauty but Beauty Deep Within … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Resting on a leaf
this Wordful Wednesday
and
being wordless doesn’t matter one damn bit if
you don’t do very compassionate things
for people and for animals and plants
Damselfly Resting ..,. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Here is a place
where everything is not
so everything is never here
where delusive selfishness reigns in its spot
And timelessness an eternally sweet wholeness
where when doesn’t matter
while “getting to heaven” is foolish
like tissue paper in busy rainfall clatter
Diminutive Leafhopper Nymph (just 2 or 3mm long) … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Wishy and Washy were fun-loving gals
and many folks knew that both were loyal (trueblue) pals
Washy (without Wishy) went to the laundromat (with a basket that she had her clothes in);
later, the clothes were all swishy and went into full-spin
Wishy, however, was sitting in her comfortable, convenient chair
pining for great nature photos at which she could stare
So, instead of viewing blog photos of nature (which you often appreciate)
get over to the clothes-washer and put your laundry in (because it’s getting late)
Purple Wildflowers … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
O
h $
that
top that
so many are
struggling to get to
Is it worth all of the time & competition?
Is surpassing and suppressing those below and impressing those above worth it?
When you finally get to the top, is there really genuine happiness there or is it an empty lie?!
Getting to the Top … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
at the apex of this world’s littleness
perched in a carnivorous bigness
king of his airy domain
making a mockery of mere helicopters and planes
alert rascal of the skies
resting razing beyond gross separative nationality
and manmade stale flags of fabric
ation
Whitetail Dragonfly … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
So here we are, Master FourEyes,
and i don’t think that what i write
will change things enough
and i don’t think that what you
nibble on will change things enough
… and that’s OK; it’s OK
And when we look at each other
each other we are
And when each other
we together look at oneself
Our unbelievable now is more timeless
than any dead(stone-cold temple that replaced the prairies)
while Mr. Death — whom so many fear — has nothing on us
because we livingly understand him(and smile with and beyond him)
more than teardrops grow upwards
and flowers flow down
Master FourEyes… who happens to be a Milkweed Beetle on, of all places, a Milkweed Plant … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
There is the isn’t
which every couldn’t lost for
Its unquietness is what we were
and its non-absence steals our wonder
This is the joy(quite possible
that)every sorrow would ignore
Its murmuring is beyond our getting
and its thunder beyond your clapping
Tiny White-Striped Katydid on a Clover Leaf … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Yes, dears, I am your long lost auntie.
We finally get to meet, my sweet loved ones!
Life’s been tough, as you can see by all of the
many timeworn scratches on my aged back.
Come, come, I have some sweet, fresh salad for you to enjoy!
You had better eat it while it’s fresh…
that way, you will get all of the best vitamins that will help you grow.
Eat plenty, eat!
After we eat, that is when
your loving auntie will hug you dearly.
We’ll hug and hug to make up for all of the lost time that
has befallen us.
Now, let’s eat, dearies, let’s eat!
Photo of Your Long Lost Auntie … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
AD INFINITUM 😦
My wonderful, magnificent
pet frog croaked, and i was very sad.
The next day, he was quite alive,
and i was very happy.
But then, my wonderful, magnificent
pet frog croaked, and i was very sad.
The next day, he was quite alive,
and i was very happy.
But then, my wonderful, magnificent
pet frog croaked, and i was very sad.
The next day, he was quite alive,
and i was very happy.
But then, my wonderful, magnificent
pet frog croaked, and i was very sad.
The next day, he was quite alive,
and i was very happy.
But then, my wonderful, magnificent
pet frog croaked, and i was very sad.
The next day, he was quite alive,
and i was very happy.
But then, my wonderful, magnificent
pet frog croaked, and i was very sad.
The next day, he was quite alive,
and i was very happy.
But then, my wonderful, magnificent
pet frog croaked, and i was very sad.
The next day, he was quite alive,
and i was very happy.
But then, my wonderful, magnificent
pet frog croaked, and i was very sad.
The next day, he was quite alive,
and i was very happy.
But then, my wonderful, magnificent
pet frog croaked, and i was very sad.
The next day, he was quite alive,
and i was very happy.
Ad Infinitum… 🙂
My Eastern Gray Tree Frog named Infinitum … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
A kind of postmortem examination
was done on him
long before his actual physical death
because unfortunately,
his brain became quite un-alive
after the innocent age of childhood.
Miseducation, brainwashing commercials,
propaganda-oriented news networks,
and being satisfied with remaining
in one dull routine after another
all contributed to his cadaverous pseudo-existence.
He often watches television and, of course, likes sports.
However, the little birds who nest in his yard
have far more compassion and life than he ever did.
Red House Finch Eggs … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Walking just walking along
gingerly and slowly swaying
waltzing alien-like from leaf to leaf
Stalking just stalking along
stick-like & Oh so lean
happily wondering whom next i can eat
Suddenly out of nowhere
a huge ominous creature appears
thrusting a blackish lens-thing right up to me
In a flash, I quickly leap away
and am so very glad
that the huge hideous creature didn’t eat me
[Note: This photo was taken about a month ago. This was the first Praying Mantis that i’ve seen this summer; it was young, just around 3cm long. And, yes — with blackish lens-thing macro camera in hand — i am the ominous, hideous creature. (You must admit, we ominous, hideous creatures are pretty huge.)]
Young Praying Mantis (praying that I don’t eat him) … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
The ecstasy in the green luscious garden
flaps its wings in harmony
pert antennae sensing all the smells
in the rapture beyond the kitchen window
Lovely colors moving all around
flower to flower endlessly
cares not a bit about the past
or what the future might just be
Rubbing stamen amongst the stigma
in a style Oh so clean
purity in every blossom
here between the trees and golden honeybees
Collecting nectar sweet and no antiques
living fresh in every moment
time’s illusion not for me
beyond the world’s vast confusion
Ecstasy in the Green Luscious Garden … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
May i understand why people don’t understand.
And why is there such a disconnect in people’s minds
betweenthings,
between them and all other things?
They look with (and “as”) sep
ar
A
tion,
each from a center that never was a true center
and that never will be a true center…
like bubbles floating in a glass of milk
each thinking that they are separate from
the milkiness.
Beyond Separation … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Part 1
The sunset stared at separate birds
as he pendulously walked into what he thought he wasn’t.
His disconnection with everything — like the day — was ironically complete:
A separate “me” scratching an arm that was “his” and
there to use from a “distance.”
Part 2
She was the blossoms that she helped grow.
Their colors were colors that were of purplish her.
She was that towering Oak Tree
but to her, it wasn’t an Oak Tree;
it simply was what it was (beyond labels)
and was not separate from any “me” within her,
for she was beyond all “me”s.
She was the beautiful blossoming of wholeness.
a little bit of her … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
So while looking into the mir-
ror at one
self,
one asks, “Did
I re-
member
to brush my
teeth this morning?”
Well then, “Oh, that’s
right! I don’t have any
teeth; I have a proboscis.”
Proboscises suck,
and it’s not that you “have them”;
they are merely part of what you are…
as are butterflies
and things to reflect on.
[Note: Butterflies use their long tube-like proboscises to suck nutritious nectar out of flowers. They have a symbiotic relationship with flowers in that they help pollinate them by going from one flower to another. Note the yellow pollen sticking to the “face” of this Painted Lady Butterfly.]
In the Mirror … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Not too many tears
dear
be ever shed for Nature
that dies
Not too many tears
dear
trickle down from faces
not sky
Not too many tears
ever flood away
from smiling faces
in stores shopping
Not too many dry eyes see
there be fewer bees and
honey
in the ending of the begin
They say not enough concrete
to cover all da prairie fields
but Mr.
Progress be working on it
Prairie Trillium Wildflower, Illinois. These low-ground plants grow very slowly and they take around 10 years to mature enough to flower. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Many stuffy politicians can pull many
into their stupefaction
pull many into their (paid-for-by-
the-fossil-fuel-industries)
raisons d’etre
(which include bona fide lies)
but as for a rogue like me,
well, the cheese in their trap
is made of distorted
(though expensive and smelly)
cardboard
Apolitical photo … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Makes a living by searching for nectar
Sleeps where it eats
Doesn’t have to pay taxes
Doesn’t have to worship at stone temples that replaced nature
Doesn’t need to propound fancy opinions
Doesn’t ruin the environment by traveling in fossil fuel vehicles
Is a pacifist and has no crazy leaders
Common Blue / Spring Azure Butterfly and a scrawny caterpillar … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
It’s a shame that
others species also
have to suffer
the dire consequences
of global warming and man’s pollution.
When i was a kid,
i realized that, in the future,
we would — in ignorance —
be fueling our own hell.
Tiny Jewelweed Wildflower … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
In the stark contrast of things
beyond the darkness and light
beyond the good and bad
see something whole glowing beyond mere conflict
beyond the world of the opposites
Mayfly in June … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Three beautiful blue wishes,
circumscribed by a rigid limitation.
Soon they will emerge beyond
weakness and constraint
and will fly free enchantingly.
Do you think that you are beyond your
enclosing limitation?
Most are circumscribed by more
rigidity than these three ever were.
Most will never break free
but
because of blind beliefs
darkly will remain
bound in rigidity forever.
Three Beautiful Eggs from Mother Robin … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
My favorite walk
is when I am not there
but is when everything around
is what one is not separate from
Then there is no I
but only the wonderment of eternity
and everything about
is magical splendid mysterious
whole
Open and Alive … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Slithering in this oscillating domain
Feeling it
Breathing it
Loving it
Being an important part of it
[Note: This is an innocent, non-poisonous Garter Snake. I am delighted that she has emerged from our sandy soil to spend time around our house! Such snakes eat mice, rats, and other such vermin. Too many people foolishly kill snakes whenever snakes are seen. Snakes are an important part of the beautiful balance of nature.]
Emergent Spring visitor; she must have just come out of the sands after winter dormancy. … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Two buttons, at the beginning of life,
to select from:
One, if pressed, makes you (for the rest of your life) an
extremely rich person (monetarily) with not much
wisdom and compassion.
The other, if pressed, makes you
a not so rich person with
much wisdom and compassion.
Which would you press?
Which would you be?
You can’t press both;
you can never press both.
Button Mushrooms with Dew … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
One multiple now at the opening of all why
blossomed out because
beyond reasons
Echoing spritely
time and time again
outside when’s known seasons
Mushroom Time … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
A this and that must wear its hat
while hoping for balmy weather
The meaning of life is to give life meaning
us on this ship together
This hole of fate in a piece of cake
in a jumble of rhyme and reason
A warm cup of Joe for Larry and Moe
while Curley’s out of doors just freezin’
A sitting duck amongst the muck
as the hunter takes keenly careful aim
It’s like shooting fish in a barrel for him
he’s happy as a clam but it’s himself he’ll maim
We all run the tough gauntlet in this crazy rat race world
many down in the dumps without a clue
The smoke and mirrors gunshots and tears
must do an about turn and fathom out what is true
Upcloseandpersonal … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019
Tom's Nature-up-close Photography and Mindfulness Blog 