Poem: Birds on the Moon

moon birs

They talk about the first man on the moon

But what about the first bird on the moon?

Sparrowhawks don’t need spaceships

They can just find

The right auroral thermal

And drift straight up into the stars

They’ll require no flags,

No hoopla,

No television crews

Just a few steaks of roadkill

And a baby pigeon or two

Of course,

The sparrowhawks

Were quite shocked when they got there

The lunar craters

Were already manned by beavers

And a colony of prairie dogs

Who really knew how to boogie

To say nothing of

The indigenous wildlife

Who are largely invisible

To our naked eyes

First man on the moon

Who really gives a shit?

An albatross will see more

Than you ever will

So take off your monocles

I’ll show you where to shove them

Animal Blog: Wild Robins and Domesticated Humans

robins

I was just in the garden, watching two robins fight, and fend off one another against their territories, when I was struck by a crucial difference in which animals relate to their world.

When observing wild animals in nature, we seldom see any genuine displays of clumsiness. Even though the fight must have come as a shock to both of the robins, and adrenaline must have been pumping, because all wild animals are thoroughly grounded in living states of constant vigilance and alertness, even shock is beautifully embraced and perfectly responded to as one of the perfect vicissitudes of nature.

After the initial explosive contact of the robins, both of them scattered on either side of my pool, and flitted about, upright and proud, ready for the next move. Everything in this display was so perfectly arranged and harmonized, it was almost like the whole thing had been pre-choreographed by some Grand Harmonizer, and the two fighting birds were following the dynamic of this pre-set structure.

The reason the two birds were able to respond with such agility and dignity, is because they have The Way. They live in accordance with the principles and methods of nature. They know their environment with an alarming and effortless thoroughness. They simply know how to respond to things, because their sense of involvement and integration with the world is exceedingly refined.

We do not see this refinement in domesticated animals, who have usually been separated from their environments, and been subject to such comfort and docility, that they begin to become clumsy, because that sense of relating to a living environment has gone.

We especially do not see this in Domesticated Humans who live in environments that have purposely been rendered null and dead. There is no sense of responding to what is in our environments, because most of what is in our environments is automated and man-made. It is expected to respond to us, and not the other way round.

Because of this, our sense of organic responsivity has become desiccated. Everything shocks and stresses us, because out artificial environments have tricked us into thinking that everything should be soft, comfortable, and capable of ordering and managing at the press of a button. Without the hardships of a living world to test and challenge us, our hardships become softships, which only render us winy, irritable and feeble. Comfy sofas, cinema-sized TVs, and mechanized espressos have taken all the physical and mental training out of life.

This is why the two things that people complain about the most are the weather and other humans. Amongst our world where we have ignorantly deceived ourselves into thinking we control all the variables, other humans, and the natural forces of our environment, are two things the majority are incapable of manipulating or controlling. We cannot change the attitude or actions of those around us just by briefly pushing a button. We must interact with them fully in order to understand and transform them, simultaneously transforming ourselves in the process, because there is no self and other. Other humans are the only things that still test our responsivity.

And, for this, we should always be grateful to them, no matter how belligerent, difficult, or challenging they are. Because, in a dead environment, interacting with other humans is the only thing that keeps us human. They are constant tester of our Integrity and Authenticity.

Thus I thought as I saw two robins fight on the edge of my pool.

Poem: Thanks For Ducks

Mandarin-Ducks-3

When you’re tired,
Lonely, and aching
And your only consolation
Is a far-off duck call
And a pile of half-read sutras
You can feed the duck
Some duck biscuits
To thank him for his help

Poem: Nature Rides Again

Amaterasu_cave_edit2

Apollo shines down smilingly on me

Or is it Amaterasu?

A symphony of bird song

Caresses my every cell

A deliquescence of sight and sound

Inviting boundless bliss

Great tits sing their squeaky faucet song

Whilst the song thrushes are unstoppable

Singing miles a minute

With the outrageous return of Yang

Nature Rides Again

Poem: Duck Day Afternoon

Duck horse

Another day spent
With the unidentifiable duck
Glossy feathers
Of screaming labradorite
I asked him
What he could teach me;
He strode into the water
Gave me this poem
And went looking for someone wiser to talk to.

Poem: Eleven O’Clock Swan

Swan

Eleven O’clock Swan
Adrift on your oily lake
Perfect, viscous blackness
How is it you can sit
In such impenetrable goo
Without gluing your feathers together?

The Robin’s Song

Robin

The robin is undoubtedly one of our finest songbirds. This morning, I had the pleasure of listening to two robins singing to one another. One was perched in the boughs of a Hawthorn Tree, whilst the other must have been at least twenty meters away, and was well out of sight. Every time the first robin sang a melodic phrase, there would be delicious pause, as though the second robin was mulling it over, considering their words, before belting a few beautiful bars back. And on it went, much to my delight.

The notion that birdsong is NOT a language is utter nonsense, and is born of the haughty anthropocentrism of which so much science and human thinking  is guilty. All of nature has a language. Just because it is not as clumsy and as crude as our own, we have ignorance just to refer to it as sheer mechanics and conditioning.

Until we stop seeing humans as being superior to everything else in the known universe, then we will always be deaf to nature’s silent words.

Just listen to two robins singing, and the truth will be yours.

Poem: Goose and Gray

Geese

Black goose flies through the sky
Flying looks hard
The way he does it
Such heaving wingbeats
“Haven’t you ever thought of being yourself?”
The Goose shouts down to me
I say nothing
And listen to the gray wagtail
Sending telegrams into space