All Posts Tagged ‘poetry

Post

We must grow… (Multi-Photo)

6 comments

.

we think we’re modern

but we’re not

we’re rather primitive and unrefined

and all the pundits in our world

don’t understand space and time

 

we think we’re free

but we’re not

our causes are all effects

and all the reactions that we’ll retake

are what spacetime already expects

.

 Pearl Crescent Butterfly. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Pearl Crescent Butterfly. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 Pearl Crescent Butterfly. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Pearl Crescent Butterfly. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

 

 

 

 

Post

The way perception takes place… (Easter Greetings!) (Multi-Photo)

16 comments

.

He was totally (and repeatedly) bored by the things he saw…

because within his brain was a putrid, stagnant, significant flaw.

 

She is joyfully thrilled by the majestic things she sees…

because her mind transcends the musty past like a wise, cleansing spring breeze.

 

Life is sadly monotonous only if one’s mind becomes rather stale and dead.

Look at things anew… with childlike, fresh rejuvenation instead!

.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

[Excerpts from the ancient Gospel of Thomas:

Jesus said, “If your leaders say to you, ‘Look, the (Father’s) kingdom is in the sky,’ then the birds of the sky will precede you. If they say to you, ‘It is in the sea,’ then the fish will precede you. Rather, the (Father’s) kingdom is within you and it is outside you.

When you know yourselves, then you will be known, and you will understand that you are children of the living Father. But if you do not know yourselves, then you live in poverty, and you are the poverty.”

His disciples said to him, “When will the kingdom come?”
Jesus said, “It will not come by waiting for it. It will not be a matter of saying ‘here it is’ or ‘there it is.’ Rather, the kingdom of the father is spread out upon the earth, and men do not see it.”

 Rabbit... where'd you put the keys, girl? (2)  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Rabbit… where’d you put the keys, girl? (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 Rabbit... where'd you put the keys, girl? (1)  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Rabbit… where’d you put the keys, girl? (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Lady in Red…

20 comments

.

The whole world was a book 

that I had read…

Or did it read me?

 

The whole rainbow was a look

of what eye held red…

Or did red hold me?

 

The whole time was a while

that I had lived in…

Or was time what was me?

.

Lady(bug) in Red. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Lady(bug) in Red. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

 

Post

Katydid… (Multi-Photo)

6 comments

.

You were 

green with envy

and those big, greedy eyes — of course — were

a large part of the reason why.

And those massive, attentive ears of yours,

upon your knees,

were nature’s way of letting you stand up to what you hear

about yourself.

When you passed by that radiant tile

and reflectively peered at yourself,

 you vainly realized

that you were

the most beautiful

Katy(that ever)did.

.

(Note: Katydids actually do have hearing mechanisms on their front leg — knee — areas; this affords their narrow bodies with wide, stereoscopic hearing.  This better, stereoscopic hearing aids greatly in locating prey and in evading predators.)

 Beautiful Katy! (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Beautiful Katy! (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 Beautiful Katy! (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Beautiful Katy! (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Love…

4 comments

.

Love has no boundaries

Love is joyous life

Love makes little pollution

Love is not conformity

Love is beyond separation

Love does not hate

Love illuminates the truth

Love has no jealousy

Loves helps the needy

Love does not kill

Love is beyond words

Love protects its fledglings

Love is the whole

Love doesn’t crave power

Love brings life’s mysteries

Love is eternity unfolding

Love is ever renewing

.

Not separate. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Not separate. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

Oh, where is Tom?… (Multi-Photo)

10 comments

.

Toads and frogs, snakes and snails and insects…

When I was a child, they’d say:

Oh, where is Tom?…

And always the answer was…

Well, he’s with the toads and frogs, the snakes and snails and insects.

Now that I’m rather gray and elderly, they say:

Oh, where is Tom?…

Well, he’s with the toads and frogs, the snakes and snails and insects.

Toads and frogs, snakes and snails and insects…

😉

.

(Note:  Many insects see, in addition to other colors, ultraviolet – which we humans can’t see – so the following photo may be like what they actually perceive.)

Nature enthusiasts. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Nature enthusiasts. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Nature enthusiasts. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Nature enthusiasts. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

Where separation ends…

11 comments

.

Strolling under vast skies of blue

one’s self disappeared into everything new

Running through thick fields of green

one saw oneself in everything seen

.

Viola Flowers.  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Viola Flowers. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Not so separate from the perceived… (Multi-Photo)

13 comments

.

i stuck a stick

into the mud…

a stick in the mud am i.

 

i cut a paper

into many fragments…

and i fell to pieces.

 

i stared at the moon

on a dim blue night…

and i became very pale.

 

i zigged a zag

on the computer screen…

and ziggyzags became my fate.

 

i smiled at some children 

who were frightened and sad…

then i became happy two.

.

Small Planet. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Small Planet. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Small Planet. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Small Planet. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

Give…

9 comments

.

give the stripes back to the zebra

give the bark back to the dog

give the insanity back to the politician

give the bulging eyes back to the frog

 

give the climb back to the mountain

give the remote back to the television show

give the red blood back to the warrior

give the water back to the plant (and watch it grow)

 

give the turn back to the brass knob

give the yellow leaves back to the fall

give the Cretaceous back to the raptors

give the baseball bat back to the ball

.

Bulging Eyes. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Bulging Eyes. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Welcome Sweet Spring… (Multi-Photo… 3 photos)

5 comments

.

let’s Spring into action

be sure not to Fall

see Flowers where dirt was

as Life makes its sweet call

 

let’s evolve from what Fish were

turn Fins into Hands

plant seeds in terrestrial gardens

and walk upon Land

 

let’s breathe atmospheric air directly

and forget how to swim

let’s forget our past and Winter

and drink water at the gym

.

[Note:  The first photo is of a flower in Spring.  The second photo is of a fossil plate of a couple of specimens of Osteolepis macrolepidotus  (from the Devonian Period, Old Sandwick Fish Beds, Quoyloo, Orkney, Scotland).  Osteolepis was one of the first air-breathing fish, with lobed (feet-like) fins; it had many other features in common with the early tetrapods (the first land-dwelling vertebrates).  Some people tend to feel ashamed — or go into denial — about having evolved from fish; I (among others), on the other hand, feel that being part of evolution is an immense privilege and see the profound beauty and amazing splendor of evolution!  The third photo is of a newspaper comic of “Frank and Ernest” by the brilliant Bob Thaves.]

 

Spring flower.  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Spring flower. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Osteolepis macrolepidotus. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Osteolepis macrolepidotus. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Comic by Bob Thaves. Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Comic by Bob Thaves. Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Post

Ode to a Tree… (Multi-Photo)

8 comments

.

Towering skyscraper

beyond the roots of pain

endlessly growing

touching the heavens

tossing winds again and again

 

Perfect being

beyond shallow wants or needs

purer than proud

straight among brothers

never feeling hate or greed

.

Skyscraper. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Skyscraper. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Skyscraper. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Skyscraper. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

Frozen in time…

9 comments

.

You have to take it beyond the limit

and you are the limit.

Beyond that is a beautiful psychological (not physical) dying that is passionately burning…

but most are numbly frozen to something old, cold, and the chilling result of hardened learning.

Fluidly stream beyond that (and beyond rock solid words)…

reflect on what is rarely beautifully seen!

.

Frozen in Time. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Frozen in Time. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

in each living Spring…

10 comments

.

compact and entwined

in each living Spring

are Life’s splendid creatures

majestic living things

 

like a chrysalis patiently waiting

to joyfully unfold

Spring has books of living stories

waiting to be told

 

from nothing comes something

it arrives every year

few love it enough

the Treasure is near

.

Fledglings in a nest.  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Fledglings in a nest. Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Legs… (Multi-Photo)

6 comments

.

On an extremely small, green planet, there was a large animal called “horse” that had four legs…

and not one of the legs felt it was separate from the other legs.

Each leg — of “horse” — walked and galloped in great beauty and harmony with the other legs;

had one or more of the legs felt it(they) was(were) separate from the other legs,

“horse” would kick and buck in disharmony.

Upon this diminutive planet, called “earth,” there were also billions of inhabitants, called “humans,”

and these “humans,” with bipedal legs, mostly thought that they were separate from those

upon other legs.  They often fought in vicious wars and kicked others who walked and ran on two legs.

They also hunted and harmed many of those walking on four legs and were also often mindlessly indifferent

about the environment containing all the legs.  However, a small few sagaciously and harmoniously realized

that their legs were not at all separate… and that none of the legs were really separate whatsoever.

.

(Note: Left click on the art-oriented one to see the detail. Click on arrow to return.)

Eight legs. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Eight legs. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Eight legs. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Eight legs. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Going back… (Multi-Photo)

15 comments

.

Tonight, go back in time to when you were a young child.  

(Revisit that immortal youth that was) 

far beyond the jaded, stodgy, leaden views of the overly-busy adults.

Soar again in those floating dreams… then go beyond dreaming to how

you were so very amazed at life’s wonderful, majestic living creatures.

Remember, back then, how you were small

but your perceptions were magical, large, and vast.

Return and youthfully run and fly again through that enchanting world.

Then never grow up.

.

Able to fly. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Able to fly. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Able to fly. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Able to fly. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

 

Post

Little Four Legs… (Multi-Photo)

12 comments

.

little four legs

ears listening bright

innocent and beautiful

quiet eyes soaking all the light

 

little four legs

legs standing true

beyond limited fences

wander forever and new

.

Beauty exemplified. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Beauty exemplified. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Beauty exemplified. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Beauty exemplified. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Spacetime… (Multi-Photo)

6 comments

.

Time is space and space is time

Mountains take some time to climb

Space is time and time is space

It takes some time to wash your face

 

Washing in space is movement in time

The soap and the bubbles say they feel fine

The clock’s hands move in a confined, little space

Along with the hands that wash your face

 

The face of the clock washed away time

As moving hands took away hours of grime

Our hearts keep on ticking at a regular pace

As helping hands smile at our round, cleanly face

 

The hands of the clock in each stage and each term

Say its time to wake up, to feel, and to learn

The chronology of you is swinging in space

A minute of love is an occasion of grace

.

Swinging pendulum in Space. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Swinging pendulum in Space. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Swinging pendulum in Space. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Swinging pendulum in Space. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

 

Post

Our separate, little “I”s… (Multi-Photo)

4 comments

.

“I think I’m separate from what is seen,” 

said the complacent, lazy man.

“You probably are,”

said the wise man.

 

“I think I’m separate from what I visit,”

said the complacent, lazy man.

“You probably are,”

said the wise man.

 

“I think I’m separate from what is heard,”

said the complacent, lazy man.

“You probably are,”

said the wise man.

 

“I think I’m separate from what I want,”

said the complacent, lazy man.

“You probably are,”

said the wise man.

 

“I think I’m separate from what I dream,”

said the complacent, lazy man.

“You probably are,”

said the wise man.

 

I think I’m separate from what I think,”

said the complacent, lazy man.

“You probably are,”

said the wise man.

 

“I think I’m separate from the earth and the animals,”

said the complacent, lazy man.

“You probably are,”

said the wise man.

 

“I think I’m separate from people and their well being,”

said the complacent, lazy man.

“You probably are,”

said the wise man.

 

“I think I’m separate from whom I rob,”

said the complacent, lazy man.

“Your separate ‘eye’ is probably illusory,”

said the wise man, 

as he closed a door

between

himself

and his blind complacency.

.

Chives, together as one. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Chives, together as one. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Chives, together as one. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Chives, together as one. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Too many peephole educators out there… (Multi-Photo)

5 comments

.

One man, a complacent, indifferent man,

looked at life as if through a distorted, little peephole;

everything he saw was of limitation;

everything he saw was fragmentary and small.

 

Another man, a dynamic, caring man,

looked at life as if from a majestic, magical mountain;

everything he saw was from a panoramic, unbroken view;

everything he saw was connected, limitless, and extraordinarily special.

.

Top of the World. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Top of the World. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Top of the World. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Top of the World. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

and realized it was… the ending of separation… (Multi-Photo)

5 comments

.

The crossing of the street

turned

and realized it was

the crossing of the street.

The flowing of the river

churned

and realized it was

the flowing of the river.

The oven being touched

burned

and realized it was

the oven being touched.

The aching of the heart

yearned

and realized it was

the aching of the heart.

The slavery to the job

earned

and realized it was

the slavery to the job.

The words of the poem

learned

and realized they were

the words of poem.

.

The stillness of the spider squirmed. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

The stillness of the spider squirmed. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

The stillness of the spider squirmed. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

The stillness of the spider squirmed. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Smoke and Mirrors… (Multi-Photo)

4 comments

.

There was a comedian on television the other night… and she said: “It seems like everyone is online as a philosopher or spiritual adviser these days… telling you to ‘love everything as one,’  or to ‘be at one with nature,’ but then — at the office, at work — they characteristically act nasty, indifferent, and cold.”

There are endless volumes of material being put out on the internet, in books, and other media — by innumerable so-called “experts” — chock full of advice on spirituality, philosophy, meditation, and mindfulness… yet, essentially, only very, very few of the people conveying their endless tips and suggestions have experienced or gone through profound enlightenment whatsoever.   Here’s the thing:   A lot of blind people think that they’ve seen the light; but this “thinking” is not the actuality.   There are a million ways to go wrong — though they may seem fine and dandy (and wonderful) — and many people take others with them through such ways.

From Stephen Crane:                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         (This poem also occurs within my book.)

 

A learned man came to me once.

He said: “I know the way. –come.”

And I was overjoyed at this.

Together we hastened.

Soon, too soon, were we

Where my eyes were useless,

And I knew not the ways of my feet.

I clung to the hand of my friend;

But at last he cried: “I am lost.”

.

Beyond smoke. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Beyond smoke. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Beyond smoke. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Beyond smoke. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Staying local…

7 comments

.

Personally, I don’t care to travel far — and photograph only locally — largely due to the fact that mostly fossil fueled vehicles are involved with the traveling… which is extremely bad for an already terribly abused planet.

.

from Walt Whitman:

BEGINNING my studies, the first step pleas’d me so much,
The mere fact, consciousness–these forms–the power of motion,
The least insect or animal–the senses–eyesight–love;
The first step, I say, aw’d me and pleas’d me so much,
I have hardly gone, and hardly wish’d to go, any farther,
But stop and loiter all the time, to sing it in ecstatic songs.

 Probing for gold nectar.  Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Probing for gold nectar. Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Post

She loves me… She loves me not… (Multi-Photo)

Leave a reply

.

she loves me

she loves me not

she loves me

she loves me not

she is me

she is me not 

she is me

she is me not

images of her are me

images of her are me not

images of her are me

images of her are me not

Life wants us to rip up living flowers

Life wants us to rip up living flowers not

Life wants us to rip up living flowers

Life wants us to rip up living flowers not

Blossoming is me

Blossoming is me not

Blossoming is me

Blossoming is me not

.

Petals intact. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Petals intact. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Petals intact. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Petals intact. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

Internal mirror of distortion…

2 comments

.

True integrity is the honesty of perception; not being one thing… and then internally claiming (to yourself) to be something else; and it’s not pretense to others either!  A truly mindful, wise being is unrelenting regarding seeing the actions that he or she is (precisely for what they are); in this, there are no lame excuses, cushioning rationalizations, or softening distortions.  You are what you are at (and “as”) that moment in time… plain and simple… without all the extraneous deceit.

.

A frog not a prince. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

A frog not a prince. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

A frog not a prince. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

A frog not a prince. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

Ode to a (whatever)… (Multi-Photo)

4 comments

.

Add a New Post

Read an Old Rhyme

Break a Grecian Urn

Wind up what’s called Time

 

Glue the Urn together

Repeat the Same Song

Mend a Broken friendship

Stay Impassioned Long

.

Short and Sweet... so they say... (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Short and Sweet… so they say… (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Short and Sweet... so they say... (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Short and Sweet… so they say… (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

Of Butterflies and Bees… (Multi-Photo)

4 comments

.

something above the grass

stirs my very heart

butterflies and bees

are Life’s living art

 

some things in the woods

are my very soul

the animals,the trees,and i

are always very whole

.

Of Butterflies and Bees. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Of Butterflies and Bees. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Of Butterflies and Bees. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Of Butterflies and Bees. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

The Golden Ratio: The Rule of Thirds… (Multi-Photo)

2 comments

(This is just satire on the Rule of Thirds — the simplified form of the Golden Ratio —  which is all the rage in photography realms; most everyone has used it, including myself; those of you who use it or who have written about it… please do not be offended.  Note:  Within the poem, switch “parts” with where “countries” occurs… and “country” with where “part” occurs.)

.

the rule of thirds

came by

it divi

ded

up

the

sky

it sectioned nature’s flowing traits

with man-made lines

in graphed points of space

the rule of thirds

jumped in

it drank a fifth of gin

it cut up the world

into little

bits

and it

sucked nine squarish

chocolate mints

the rule of thirds

marked its spot

in a

tic tac toe game so hot

everyone wanted 

to draw up their lines

and 

everyone figured why not

the rule of thirds

squared away

it decreed a superior way

it di

vided (countries)

of the whole for itself

for its superhuman

(part)men’s wealth

precisely properly 

today

.

The Golden Rule.  (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

The Golden Rule. (2) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

The Golden Rule. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

The Golden Rule. (1) Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

(Multi-Photo)*** Einstein, stick this in your pipe and…

2 comments

.

between past

and future

is another realm

but few ever live there

 

they are too busy

thinking “as the past”:

about the future

or regarding the past

 

most think that 

the past changes

into the future

but perhaps neither fundamentally changes

 

they may not change

because each the other ‘s

the only thing that really changes 

is the undefinable,infinite now

.

Tongue projecting Einstein (2). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Tongue projecting Einstein (2). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Tongue projecting Einstein (1). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Tongue projecting Einstein (1). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

(Multi-Photo)*** Powerful stuff…

2 comments

.

the alcohol brought itself 2 a face

the movement toward the mouth was

slow

and

deliberate at 1st

then unnoticed things(which began

hap

in

ing

contin

you)

‘d

2 be unmanifested

the mouth opened 4 more

4 more

the brain closed

4 less

words mispronounced dayselves

justified 1 more

and sipped

in

2

oblivi

on

a clear

day

you can

see

4ever

the car

brought itself 2 a tree

da alcohol poem

brought itself

2 a close

the end

.

Horsetail growing not far from the tree (2). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Horsetail growing not far from the tree (2). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Horsetail growing not far from the tree (1). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Horsetail growing not far from the tree (1). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

(Multi-Photo)*** Prelude to a Dream…

3 comments

.

Prelude to

a dream

between the crushed

and convoluted sheets

with their

protruding

feet

Prelude to

a dream

a placid silence

attained by pillows

Things are

not

what they seem

.

Walking on Clouds (2).  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Walking on Clouds (2). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Walking on Clouds (1).  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Walking on Clouds (1). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

(Multi-Photo)*** Distance…

4 comments

.

There was an after

which occurred

following a before

which occurred

as a now

and then

a movement contemplated

itself before

and after

someone else did

not care

two pins

about

the distance

involving

pastandfuture

as well as

the distance

involving

themandus

.

Pinkingly (2).  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Pinkingly (2). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Pinkingly (1).  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Pinkingly (1). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

Happy Valentines…

1 comment

 .

Deep mysteries can be understood if one goes beyond the superficial and accepted ways of seeing.

.

Excerpt from Emily Dickinson’s first poem —  Valentine Week 1850:

****Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,

Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine! ****

 

Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun;
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son.
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap’st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There’s Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time!

Courting the Flower (2). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Courting the Flower (2). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Courting the Flower (1).  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Courting the Flower (1). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Post

(Multi-Photo)*** And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, when I am pinned and wriggling on the wall, then how should I begin… (T.S. Eliot)

2 comments

.

Flowing movements(callingthemselvespeople)

see these actionsmovements(here)unfoldinglymove

and label it as me a nounstuckrocklikewithinagroove

Evolving observings streaming

and there’s a thinking that

themselves are firmandfixed

There’s metamorphosis movingbursting

here within and all around call

but learned chrylalis concentrated separations

continue to divide pigeonhole label and

stiffen cement and densify all

.

Unpinned (2).  Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Unpinned (2). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

Unpinned (1).  Photo by Thomas Peace  c. 2015

Unpinned (1). Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2015

 

Post

(Multi-Photo)*** Give some people to the truth…

2 comments

.

Give a dog to a bone

give a flower to some water

give a child to a hug

give a reader to the blog

give a charity to some dollars

give the question to the answer

give the itch to the scratch

give the darkness to some light

give some spider to a color

give the world to yourself!

.

Give some spider to a color (1).  Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Give some spider to a color (1). Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Give some spider to a color (2).  Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Give some spider to a color (2). Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Post

(Multi-photo)*** Pull the Plug…

4 comments

.

The following, including the poem, is an excerpt from my book, “The Eternal Fountain of Youth.”  (The book is extremely strong medicine; no one should read it unless they are very stable.  eternalfountainofyouth.com):

When we think that the big can exist without the little, we are wrong.  When we think that left can exist without right, we are wrong.  When we think that the sailor is not the sails, we are wrong.  When we think that the mountain-climber is not the mountain that he conquers, we are wrong.  When we think that the figure skater is not very slick, we are wrong.  When we think that the magician is not an illusion, we are wrong.  When we think that the “perceiver” is truly separate from “the perceived,” we are wrong. 

from Walt Whitman:

 

When the script preaches instead of the preacher,

When the pulpit descends and goes instead of the carver that

      carved the supporting desk,

When I can touch the body of books by night or by day, and

      when they touch my body back again,

When a university course convinces like a slumbering woman and

      child convince,

When the minted gold in the vault smiles like the night-watchman’s

      daughter,

When warrantee deeds loafe in chairs opposite and are my friendly

      companions,

I intend to reach them my hand, and make as much of them as

      I do of men and women like you.

.
Metamorphosis (2).  Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Metamorphosis (2). Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Metamorphosis (1).  Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Metamorphosis (1). Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Post

Following their fiery disposition, many of the roses rejoiced, singing and smiling…

2 comments

.

When you look at beautiful roses and sing and smile… most assuredly, the flowers are happily singing and smiling!  

(Without the observed, what is the observer?)

.

from E. E. Cummings:

somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

Eternal perfection.  Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Eternal perfection. Photo by Thomas Peace 2015

Post

Happy…Oh, the fear of things… Halloween!

1 comment

.

Fear of things

can ruin your dreams

make you sweat

and fill you with Screams.

Compromised order 

in the middle of the night

grind your teeth,

startle with Fright.

.

[This bat-like moth looks like it could be a Waved Sphinx Moth.  Larvae of the Waved Sphinx Moth feed on Ash, Privet, and Lilacs. (Don’t look too closely above the moth, to the right; a little webbing seems to be face-like… which won’t help one’s dreams!)]

Bat-like Waved Sphinx Moth. Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Bat-like Waved Sphinx Moth. Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

 

Post

A Spider sewed at Night…

Leave a reply

.

from Emily Dickinson:

A Spider sewed at Night
Without a Light
Upon an Arc of White.

If Ruff it was of Dame
Or Shroud of Gnome
Himself himself inform.

Of Immortality
His Strategy
Was Physiognomy.

.

 

 

 

[This is a Black and Yellow Argiope Spider.  We call them Banana Spiders here in the Midwest.  Each Black and Yellow Argiope Spider carries an ominous, rather demonic set of images on its dorsal side… a clear message saying:  “Don’t mess with me!”]

Positioned "head down" as is typical for these and related species. Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Positioned “head down” as is typical for these and related species. Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Post

The most frightening thing of all…

2 comments

.

Nothing is scarier than our elected politicians!  

😉

.

from E. E. Cummings:

hist whist
little ghostthings
tip-toe
twinkle-toe

little twitchy
witches and tingling
goblins
hob-a-nob hob-a-nob

little hoppy happy
toad in tweeds
tweeds
little itchy mousies

with scuttling
eyes rustle and run and
hidehidehide
whisk

whisk look out for the old woman
with the wart on her nose
what she’ll do to yer
nobody knows

for she knows the devil ooch
the devil ouch
the devil
ach the great

green
dancing
devil
devil

devil
devil

wheeEEE

Marbled Orb Weaver Spider.  Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Marbled Orb Weaver Spider. Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Post

(Multi-photo)**** with a poem by E.E. Cummings

2 comments

Spring emerged from the primitive, frozen cocoon and transformed into the majestic, yellow and fluttering summer!  

.

from E.E. Cummings:

*********Metamorphosis*********

We’ve plodded through a weird and weary time,
    Called Winter by the calendar alone;
We have beheld an earth pool-deep in slime,
    Image a heaven of stone.

We’ve found life hid between the folds of mire,
    Sensed life in every place, heard life in tune.
The earth-shell cracks with underneath desire;
    Spring crawls from the cocoon.

Her puny wings vibrant with will to grow,
    She clings, expanding like an opening eye;
More large, more able, more developed, lo,
    The perfect butterfly.

Yellow Swallowtail (photo 1) (The day I took these shots, I had a feeling that I should go to Perry Farm's prairie, because I would find spectacular Yellow Swallowtail there; as soon as I arrived, there she was!) Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Yellow Swallowtail (photo 1) (The day I took these shots, I had a feeling that I should go to Perry Farm’s prairie, because I would find spectacular Yellow Swallowtail there; as soon as I arrived, there she was!) Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Yellow Swallowtail (photo 2) Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Yellow Swallowtail (photo 2) Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Post

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee…

Leave a reply

.

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,

One clover, and a bee.

And revery.

The revery alone will do,

If bees are few.                                                                            

                                            — Emily Dickinson

 

 

A clover and one bee (and revery).  Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

A clover and one bee (and revery). Photo by Thomas Peace 2014


					
Post

Multi-photo: Thirteen really isn’t unlucky… and neither is the blackbird that flutters in the mind.

Leave a reply

.

.

.

.

.

.

.     Multi-photo:   Thirteen really isn’t unlucky… and neither is the blackbird that flutters in the mind.

.

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

by Wallace Stevens 

I
Among twenty snowy mountains,   
The only moving thing   
Was the eye of the blackbird.   

 

II
I was of three minds,   
Like a tree   
In which there are three blackbirds.   

 

III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.   
It was a small part of the pantomime.   

 

IV
A man and a woman   
Are one.   
A man and a woman and a blackbird   
Are one.   

 

V
I do not know which to prefer,   
The beauty of inflections   
Or the beauty of innuendoes,   
The blackbird whistling   
Or just after.   

 

VI
Icicles filled the long window   
With barbaric glass.   
The shadow of the blackbird   
Crossed it, to and fro.   
The mood   
Traced in the shadow   
An indecipherable cause.   

 

VII
O thin men of Haddam,   
Why do you imagine golden birds?   
Do you not see how the blackbird   
Walks around the feet   
Of the women about you?   

 

VIII
I know noble accents   
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;   
But I know, too,   
That the blackbird is involved   
In what I know.   

 

IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,   
It marked the edge   
Of one of many circles.   

 

X
At the sight of blackbirds   
Flying in a green light,   
Even the bawds of euphony   
Would cry out sharply.   

 

XI
He rode over Connecticut   
In a glass coach.   
Once, a fear pierced him,   
In that he mistook   
The shadow of his equipage   
For blackbirds.   

 

XII
The river is moving.   
The blackbird must be flying.   

 

XIII
It was evening all afternoon.   
It was snowing   
And it was going to snow.   
The blackbird sat   
In the cedar-limbs.
.
.
.

Following a song, a male Common Grackle Blackbird looks for signs of intelligent life in a thoughtless world. Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Following a song, a male Common Grackle Blackbird looks for signs of intelligent life in a thoughtless world. Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

This is not a blackbird... as every wise old crow knows.  Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

This is not a blackbird… as every wise old crow knows. Photo by Thomas Peace 2014

Post

The Eternal Return and… There isn’t anything really new about New Year’s Day…

1 comment

.

.

.

.

.   There isn’t anything really new about New Year’s Day… but, nevertheless — though this may sound odd in these non-spiritual times — the sacred (i.e., the timeless) is new (and truly is something beyond the framework of time).  The following is an excerpt from my book, The Eternal Fountain of Youth.  It (i.e., the book) shows how Archibald MacLeish is among the best — and most famous — poets of the world who intelligently and eloquently/poetically write about limitation and relationship, such as the eternal return (and the possibility of going beyond it).  I feel that these famous poets have touched upon something that goes beyond the limited writings and proposals of many… (even, in my calculation, beyond the proposals of the best of philosophers).  Nietzsche, for example, did not go far enough; what he delved into was far too limited.  My book is a reflection, i feel, of what many of  these famous poets expressed; it is also an attempt to help others transcend limitation and separative ignorance intelligently and holistically.  Please, regarding this, intelligently realize that having attained the status of a major (famous) poet is not easy whatsoever and — in the overall scheme of things — is only remotely likely at best.  Additionally:  If you don’t care about this or about my book… or grow from what i have written here… that is just fine; but i’ll tell you one (perhaps expanding, perhaps universal) thing for sure:  I know of more than one ten foot poet among inchlings.  

.

.

Excerpt:

   Obviously, it is not what we are “accustomed to” or “used to.” However, sometimes change happens that way, and for the better, in the long run.  Before the time of Columbus, they used to think that the world was flat, that there was an end to it; they thought that you could fall off the flattened part and then perish.  Many of us think that when you are dead, you are dead; they think that you come to the end, and that is it… finished.  However, if our universe is truly in a cyclic-oriented dimension, then what occurs happens over and over again, endlessly.  There is a possibility, when you die (if the omnipotent “otherness” does not temporarily intervene), that your consciousness will not exist until the “next round” of the cycle.  Since “consciousness” (that depends on brain cells) does not exist after you die, then psychological “time” does not exist after you die.  One must be “conscious” to realize “time.”  Without consciousness, there is no “time.”  The time, from when you die, within universal cycles, to when you are again “reborn” as the same person that you (in the exact-same repeated cycles) were, does not exist psychologically; therefore, it does not exist as “consciousness.”  Therefore, as soon as you die, no time elapses until you are again born to the same mother, and are again conscious of “time.”  So, in a real sense, as soon as you die, you are again (for all practical purposes) immediately born to the same family as you were born to before. Time is not recorded, from when you die to when you are again reborn.  This is not reincarnation.  You do not come back into another body; in one echoing, mirroring sense, you remain exactly the same. In a sense, you never really die.  (Of course, you are incapable of remembering what happened before, in the previous cycles.) Like our earth, our universe is globular, circuitous, and cyclic. People, at one time long ago, thought that the world was flat.  People think, at the time of this writing, that time is linear and non-globular, without the same things recurring repeatedly.  They may be crudely erroneous.

 

from Archibald MacLeish:

 

Lines for a Prologue

 

These alternate nights and days, these seasons 
Somehow fail to convince me. It seems 
I have the sense of infinity! 

(In your dreams, O crew of Columbus, 
O listeners over the sea 
For the surf that breaks upon Nothing—) 

Once I was waked by the nightingales in the garden. 
I thought, What time is it? I thought, 
Time—Is it Time still?—Now is it Time? 

(Tell me your dreams, O sailors: 
Tell me, in sleep did you climb 
The tall masts, and before you—) 

At night the stillness of old trees 
Is a leaning over and the inertness 
Of hills is a kind of waiting. 

(In sleep, in a dream, did you see 
The world’s end? Did the water 
Break—and no shore—Did you see?) 

Strange faces come through the streets to me 
Like messengers: and I have been warned 
By the moving slowly of hands at a window. 

Oh, I have the sense of infinity— 
But the world, sailors, is round. 
They say there is no end to it. 

.

.

.

Just one of the "Bantams in the Pine-woods"... (not beyond Nietzsche and the eternal return)...  by Thomas Peace 2013

Just one of the “Bantams in the Pine-woods”… (not beyond Nietzsche and the eternal return)… by Thomas Peace 2013

Post

In order to magically not be like “mostpeople,” one has to stand alone…

Leave a reply

In order to magically not be like “mostpeople,” one has to stand alone… like a single leaf upon a branching tree… (which is not isolation; it is really joyously and steadfastly being connected to the whole).

“Mostpeople” will not deeply understand this.  “Mostpeople” are not able to function via a profundity of  much understanding.  Do what you want… but I’m not interested in going with the masses of “mostpeople”; they all fall away from “being one with the whole.”

Like most of the leaves of a tree in late fall or in winter… “mostpeople” find it very easy to exist separately, apart from the whole.   That is how “mostpeople” cadaverously go about their separate ways.

The “me” is what “mostpeople” are.   “Mostpeople” are what they were taught.   “Mostpeople” readily absorb and become what  they were fabricated to become.     “Mostpeople” are the fear of going beyond what they were merely taught; hence, they fear going  into the truly unknown… into the truly mysterious.  It is easy to become merely what you were (safely) structured to become.  (However, such safety isn’t really safe by any means; it is a “being blown apart from the tree of wholeness and wisdom.”  Such separation is a form of death.)  “Mostpeople” are afraid of standing alone; they are afraid of not fitting in with “the rest of the crowd.”

The “me,” to “mostpeople,” is separate from everyone else.  Each thinks that their “me” is what is essentially separate from “other” people, animals, and plants.”  They think that there is distance from this “me” to “other” life forms and other beings.  The “me,” to “mostpeople,” is separate from the desires and fears that it has.  This “me” (according to “mostpeople”) can run from, try to alter, or subjugate its fears.  The “me,” to “mostpeople,” is separate from the desires that it has.  This “me” (according to “mostpeople”) can chase after, try to alter, or subjugate its desires.  The “me,” to “mostpeople,” is separate from the ideas and thoughts that it has.  This “me” (according to “mostpeople”) can recall, try to alter, or subjugate it ideas and thoughts.

To “mostpeople,” the “me” is a central, regulatory, decision-making presence that is apart from other beings… and is, additionally, apart from its very own thoughts (that “it” has power over).

To the ignorant and unaware, the following may seem a bit intimidating or disquieting… but (in reality) it is not anything to be alarmed about whatsoever.

To one who may, indeed, be of wisdom, there is not much of a “me”.  The wise man goes far beyond what he (or she) was merely taught.  The wise man does not merely become what he was molded, shaped, and programmed to become.

The wise man, to a great extent,  is not separate from everyone else.  He does not feel separate from other people, animals, and plants.  The wise man feels responsibility for all… because there are no “learned,” illusory lines of demarcation separating him from the rest of life.  The wise man understands that he is not merely something separate from his fears.  He lucidly perceives that he and the fears are “one and the same.”  He is not separate from what the fears are.  The wise man understands that he is not merely something separate from his desires.  He lucidly perceives that he and the desires are “one and the same.”  He is not separate from what the desires are.

The wise man does not childishly try to run from, alter, or subjugate his fears…  for he prudently sees that doing so involves primitive, superficial conflict along with a significant waste of time and energy.  The wise man does not childishly try to run after, alter, or subjugate his desires… for he prudently sees that doing so involves primitive, superficial conflict along with a significant waste of time and energy. (This does not mean that he does whatever is desired; that would be foolish!)  The wise man is not — unlike “mostpeople” — afraid of standing alone.

The wise man does not childishly (from something internal, with a distance) try to recall his thoughts… because he discerningly perceives that his thoughts are not separate from what he actually is.  So, in a wise mind, when thoughts are being recalled,  they are recalling themselves; they are doing the recalling… not something somehow magically separate from them that is “getting them to recall.”  Any alteration of thought, by a wise mind, involves thought altering and rearranging itself… not something doing it that is, somehow, separate and distant from thought/thinking.  (Interestingly, despite its close, non-divisive connection to thinking, the sagacious mind, by the way, in its all-pervading wisdom, is not merely confined to the realm of mere thoughts and thinking.)

The wise mind is not what functions with a lot of separation and needless conflict (between what it is and what it is not)… as does “mostpeople.”  This does not mean, of course, that the wise mind will brush your teeth for you (if you can brush them).  It does mean that the wise, holistic mind is not likely to be involved in fragmentary wars, ruthless competitiveness, indifferent unconcern, and uncaring debauchery.  It may be that the wise mind is an awareness that pervades and permeates beyond all small, limited, selfish, immature lines of separation and restriction.  One, major form or type of restriction… involves erroneously thinking that there is distance between you and your thoughts, fears, and perceptions… which, in reality, there is not.  You actually are your thoughts, fears, and perceptions.  Going beyond such restriction is the only true and real freedom and (wholeness)… and it is not, unfortunately, for “mostpeople.”

In order to magically not be like “mostpeople,” one has to stand alone… like a single leaf upon a branching tree… (which is not isolation; it is really joyously and steadfastly being connected to the whole).

**************************************************

from E. E. Cummings:

**************************************************

One winter afternoon

(at the magical hour
when is becomes if)

a bespangled clown
standing on eighth street
handed me a flower.

Nobody,it’s safe
to say,observed him but

myself;and why?because

without any doubt he was
whatever(first and last)

mostpeople fear most:
a mystery for which i’ve
no word except alive

—that is,completely alert
and miraculously whole;

with not merely a mind and a heart

but unquestionably a soul-
by no means funereally hilarious

(or otherwise democratic)
but essentially poetic
or ethereally serious:

a fine not a coarse clown
(no mob, but a person)

and while never saying a word

who was anything but dumb;
since the silence of him

self sang like a bird.
Mostpeople have been heard
screaming for international

measures that render hell rational
—i thank heaven somebody’s crazy

enough to give me a daisy

***********************************************************

eternalfountainofyouth.com

(To enlarge the following photo, please left click on it; hit the left return arrow to return back.)

Connected to the Whole... photo by Thomas Peace c.2013

Connected to the Whole… photo by Thomas Peace c.2013

Post

Meditation: How not to Meditate

2 comments

from Thomas Peace

True meditation is not something that one can know that one is engaged in.  Like humility, true meditation occurs to the mind unawares; it is not something that can be recognized.  One can not “know” that one is humble.  Likewise, one cannot “know” that one is meditating. True meditation and true humility are both beyond the field of “the known.”  Therefore, both are beyond the realm of recognition by the self; for recognizing is in the field of “the known,” whereas humility and meditation are of “understanding” and not “knowing.”

To practice meditation is folly.  For one cannot practice what is beyond causality.  One can practice what is within a cause and effect continuum — such as learning to play a man-made instrument — but true meditation is an all-encompassing, non-conditioned, non-fragmentary thing.  Therefore, it is beyond the realm methodology within phenomena involving common causality.  Interestingly, a lot of people claim that they practice a form of meditation.  However, true meditation, being beyond what can be mechanically “practiced” within causality, does not exist for such erroneous individuals.  You can practice something rather dead and mechanical… but you can’t practice “aliveness,”  “awareness,” “insightful compassion,” and “holistic understanding”… and that (despite what many so-called experts say) is what meditation may really involve.

A wise, sagacious mind is (in itself) meditation.  However, such meditation is not something that it practices as part of some methodology.  A wise, sapient mind goes beyond the clutches of practice and methods… because such a mind intelligently goes beyond the field of the “known.”  Such a mind goes beyond the realm of mere symbols and representations that words and labels are a part of.  Such a mind goes beyond mere symbols… but not by any process of practice or methodology.  True insight is instantaneous: no time is involved for it to (finally) come about.  All methods and forms of practice take time.  A wise mind (of true meditation) exists beyond what takes time in order to manifest.  Interestingly, true meditation, being beyond mere practice and being beyond mere methods… is, in a significant way, beyond the causality of time.

Beware of those charlatans who offer a concrete form of meditation to you (for you to practice).  What they give you may make you feel happy or comfortable for a limited time. However, what is not true meditation is merely a crutch.  It is not the indelible gem of many indescribable facets.  So, regarding those that offer you some form of methodology or prayer to attain enlightenment: run from them and do not fall into their clutches.  Meditation is only what can occur for the individual of (and by) his (or her) own accord.  It is a harmony that others cannot bestow upon you.  Read my book (about self-awareness) at http://www.eternalfountainofyouth.com.  The book will not provide you with mechanical methods to practice (like some kind of robot); it will not give you methodologies to follow like some kind of lemming.  It will, however, encourage you to wake up and realize that what you do in infinitely important.  However, if you are merely a “follower” and a lemming, then what you do will always be limited and confined.  True meditation never blossoms forth from what is always merely limited and confined.  True meditation is an explosion of infinite awareness and understanding… an awareness and understanding that no one can merely regulate out to you.

from Emily Dickinson:

A COUNTERFEIT — a plated Person —

I would not be —

Whatever strata of Iniquity

My Nature underlie —

Truth is Good Health — and Safety, and the Sky,

How meager, what an Exile — is a Lie,

And Vocal — when we die —

*************************************************************************************************

www.eternalfountainofyouth.com

Warm Regards,

Thomas Peace (author)

Photograph of Butterfly by Thomas Peace copyright 2012

Photograph of Butterfly by Thomas Peace copyright 2012