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Why Can't We be more like our Animals...


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Posted

My 20 year old cat (who used to fued with my dog endlessly) just jumped up on the bed beside him, licked his back, and layed down beside him.

Priceless.

Seeing the two lying beside one another makes me think about Bush.... [Mad]

Posted

We Need

We need another and a wiser and perhaps

a more mystical concept of animals.

Remote from universal nature,

and living by complicated artifice,

man in civilization surveys the creature

through the glass of his knowledge

and sees thereby a feather magnified

and the whole image in distortion.

We patronize them for their incompleteness,

for their tragic fate of

having taken form so below ourselves.

And therein we err, and greatly err.

For the animal shall not be measured by man.

In a world older and more complex than ours,

they move finished and ompletely,

gifted with extensions of the senses

we have lost or never attained,

living by voices we shall never hear.

They are not brethren, they are not underlings;

they are other nations,

caught with ourselves in the net of life and time;

fellow prisoners of the spendour

and travail of the earth.

(The Outer Most House, by Henry Beston, 1928)

Posted

yeah, great poetry you never forget... loving poetry is half of what turned me into a deadhead (god bless Robert Hunter and the rest... seeing Bob Hunter playin with TOO really did things for me... he wrote those words Jerry slew us with)

should have posted this one on valentine's day... if you fall in love with a girl (unless she makes you think of Jerry Seinfeld's "man hands" episode) share this with her if you mean it...

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somewhere i have never travelled

somewhere i have never travelled,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

e.e. cummings

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if you have any great poetry you like we should start a thread sharing it

peace, luck and love,

paisley

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