My mommy gave to me a cat,
a stray that wandered by our house,
I had to beg and plead and cry,
and even say I saw a mouse!
Of course she crumbled at my tears –
a temper tantrum helped a lot –
I held my breath, and, turning blue,
what I demanded, well, I got!
Boris Zarloff – now that’s a name!
Not that he looks very scary –
he’s cute and cuddly as can be,
though his prey must now be wary:
for he thinks he is a hunter
born to slay all household dragons,
so first he slew a tennis ball
and then set upon my wagon.
He battered every table leg
and clawed through Mommy’s underwear,
then shredded all the woollen stuff
that she had packed away with care;
a hunter brave would never cease
to seek out every waiting foe,
and so he chewed the plastic leaves
that on our fakus ficus grow.
The table was his battlefield,
where evil plates and vases stood,
and curtains just called out to him,
like every piece of fine-carved wood;
but Mommy held her tears in check
as Zarloff ran from place to place,
for all the wreckage left behind
was cancelled by my happy face.
2. Chipmunk Harvest
From the left and the right,
quite ready to fight,
how hard they are trying
to catch peanuts flying,
and each store enough
for times that are rough;
Chip A fills his cheeks
while stealing a peek
to see where Chip B
might possibly be,
for even though brothers
they share with no others --
the harvest of Fall
calls out to them all:
stock up your hole
for days that are cold,
when peanuts won't come
to fill everyone;
run back and forth,
run south and north,
and carry your load
far up the road,
then run back again
to see if your friend --
the lady in blue --
still cares about you,
and when she gives up
and empties her cup,
please stifle your sorrow:
she'll come back tomorrow.
3. Chipmunk Motors
We took a drive on Sunday
to visit Mommy’s Mum,
I made the Caesar salad –
which was a lot of fun –
Mommy boiled the turnips
and asparagus as well –
though Daddy looked dejected
at the thought of how he’d smell.
We got into the old blue Ford
and Daddy turned the key,
but still within a block of home
a puzzled chipmunk looked at me –
he’d jumped out of the engine
to grasp at window wipers –
he stared right through the glass
as if he saw some vipers.
Mommy screamed to Daddy
to stop the car real fast,
while Chip clung to the wipers
in hopes that he might last;
then Daddy went into reverse
and drove backwards on the street,
until, back in our driveway,
poor Chip regained his tiny feet.
He jumped back down and ran
as fast as he could go,
away from human monsters
and back into his hole;
I saw him later on that day --
at bird seed did he pick –
and I could tell with but a glance
that cars just made him sick.
I didn’t think I’d ever know
why on earth he climbed inside,
cause it gets very hot in there
and Chips can get fast fried,
but Mommy got a bill today –
and you should see her boil –
three hundred bucks for Mr. Moe,
for changing engine oil!
4. Dining with a Squirrel
So small you are, my forest friend,
with fur so sleek and fine,
I touch your coat of summer hues
and invite you in to dine;
for your delight we have tonight
a repast quite sublime,
designed to sooth all rodent blues,
so I hope you have the time.
Oh yes, do select your table,
make sure it suits your taste,
we want you to be well at ease
so no food will go to waste;
your menu, sir, and take your time,
peruse the wine list too,
after all, for one so small,
there is nothing we refuse to do.
Yes, the nuts are grand tonight,
so freshly roasted by our cook,
who works all day to find a way
to become listed in your book
of famous chefs and great gourmets;
of course the peanuts are the best,
imported from so far away,
much sweeter than all the rest
that may fall to you today.
And for dessert we have pecan pie,
a fine treat for furry friends
who come here on the sly;
not that we mind you hanging round,
we welcome you with open arms,
but when you finish with this dish,
please exit having done no harm.
5. Ears in the Grass
Look out the window, what do you see
there in the long grass next to the tree?
A pair of big ears are waggling about,
they hear very well so don’t give a shout!
There’s a bunny, you see, munching on grass,
hoping that small ears won’t hear him pass,
for he’s so very young and afraid of us all,
but can hide in the grass since it’s so very tall,
and blend in so well you never would know
a wild funny bunny was staging a show.
So settle back down and allow him to eat
as he hops here and there on small bunny feet,
and tell him we’ll give him a most joyous pardon
as long as he stays well out of our garden.
6. For Buffy: The Slayer Cat
A meowing ball of silky fur
has grown into a cat
whose head is ever ready
for a congratulatory pat:
today she chased a squirrel
right up the tall birch tree,
then sauntered off to check
if the neighbour’s dog was free;
she patrolled the streets all morning
to set the world aright,
then took a five-hour nap
in preparation for the night,
when she would save humanity
from vampires in the dark,
send ghouls and demons running
with a gaze so cold and stark,
and all she ever asked for
was my complete submission,
that I would come to understand
her eminent position:
Ruler of the Universe,
aloof from mundane tasks,
with need of just one human
to do each thing she asks,
and if her servant does obey,
then all goes as it should,
the world continues to revolve
and feline life is truly good.
7. For E.G.
Little lady all dressed up,
drinking from a porcelain cup,
a birthday party from a dream –
how very grown up do you seem
with wide-brimmed hat and string of pearls –
the envy of the other girls.
The winsome twinkle in your eye
shows the joy you feel inside,
and how you wave your dainty fan
with mature and gracious hand,
a smiling elf, a female Puck –
little lady all dressed up.
8. Her Majesty
She sat upon a cushion
of finest linen made,
holding court with dignity
before the passing parade,
greeting all with graciousness
no matter what their state,
and never did she waver
though the hour grew so late,
but knowing they adored her,
she kept her royal throne,
even dinner was delayed
despite her servant’s groan;
how regal her demeanour,
how wise her knowing smile,
and how her eyes were gifted
to inveigle and beguile,
to make a strong man tremble
at the sight of beauty pure,
to see her look upon him
adorned in finest fur,
and then to bow in gratitude
before her as she sat,
thanking her for taking on
the role of household cat.
9. Mama Racoon
It was back in June
that Mama racoon
found herself smitten
with three racoon kittens;
so small and so cute,
they would holler and hoot
for Mama to come
and feed everyone;
they grew very fast,
and the time came at last
to leave their own home
and learn how to roam.
Now Mama did fear
that danger was near,
so she took them each day
to show them the way
racoons ought to be –
she taught them, you see,
to check out the fields
for any good deals
on food they could gobble
without any trouble.
And one day she went
where much time was spent
by strangle looking creatures
with no racoon features;
these humans, she said,
before going to bed,
would put all their waste –
still good to taste –
in big garbage cans
just right for the hands
of racoons in training
to find what’s remaining
of wonderful treats
for masked little beasts.
As she watched them grow strong,
Mama knew all along
that one sunlit day
they would all go away
and live on their own,
far from her home;
oh well, nothing to do
but bid them adieu
and wait for next June
and more small racoons.
10. Miss Hummer
Whizzzzzzzzzzzz, she goes by,
how fast she can fly
and do a long hover,
a bird like no other.
The smallest around,
she makes quite a sound,
one you’ve only heard
from a tiny hummingbird.
She spots the red juice,
then mayhem breaks loose:
quick to the nectar,
you’d never expect her
to drink with a spout
that stretches way out;
she plunges her beak
in an effort to seek
sweet liquid enough
for times that are rough.
Dread Winter is coming,
she increases her humming,
drinks for a long ride
down to the sunny side
where no ice and no cold
will ever take hold.
Such a fragile creature,
no seasons will defeat her,
she opens her mouth,
her mind on the South.
Stock up now, she knows,
for the flight path he chose
will use all her strength
because of its length;
we’ll see her next Summer,
this brave little hummer.
11. Mr. Moe
He’s rather small and hard to see,
he scampers all around the trees
and checks for peanuts everywhere,
in the pump house and under the stairs;
he comes when I call as fast as he can,
knowing full well I’ve a peanut in hand,
and taking my gift saves him the trouble
of gathering spruce cones on the double
to store in case the winter is hard
and nothing to eat exists in his yard.
For a chipmunk’s life is full of woe,
what with grumpy squirrels on the go,
chasing him away from what is theirs,
including the pump house, including the stairs;
squirrels are bigger and give him a fright,
so sometimes he waits until nearly night
and sneaks to the door for one last nut,
hoping the cottage is not dark and shut.
And as the sun sinks and he has to run,
I thank my small friend for his gift of fun,
for making me smile when things are rough,
for showing that even one friend is enough
to chase those nasty blues so far away
and give me smiles for one fine day.
12. Now Buried in Snow
I’m just an old cottage
now buried in snow,
battered by cold winds
that constantly blow,
my windows are boarded,
my doors are shut tight,
inside is the darkness
of a long moonless night;
outside there is silence,
the absence of life,
no squirrels to battle
in mad sibling strife,
for only the trees groan
with branches bowed down,
made heavy by snow
and touching the ground;
I’m cold and I’m lonely,
I want Spring to come
with flowers and people
and a bright, warming sun,
so please, Winter Winds,
go blow somewhere else,
make the snow go away
and let the ice melt.
13. Nutty Old Chip
A chipmunk is a tiny thief
who thinks he’s rather hip:
he waits nearby the feeder
in hopes that it will tip,
and food for feathered friends
will reach his eager lip.
How patiently he lingers,
lurking by the tree,
watching out for danger
to one so small as he;
but just throw him a peanut –
what action you will see!
He’ll rise up like a tiger
startled by a whip,
rush in upon the booty
and take a hearty nip;
then stuff his furry cheeks
at such a frenzied clip!
With one bulge there,
and one bulge here,
he’ll gladly fill his face,
then quickly will he race
up the forest road,
bearing his full load.
Then right back down he’ll come
without a single slip,
begging for some more
with his distinguished pip;
no wonder we all call him
good old nutty Chip!
14. On Sail
I drifted blissfully along
and heard the music of a song
that told of wonders yet to see,
of precious gems awaiting me.
A Siren sounded her alarm
but promised me no body harm --
“just come and look”, she cried aloud,
“for what I offer makes me proud.”
So to her island I did steer,
to see more treasure coming near --
bright rings of silver and of gold,
more than my tiny craft could hold.
Another Siren caught my eye,
her beacon shining in the sky –
so many islands in my view
I hardly knew what I should do!
But Mommy seized my vessel’s helm
and turned my barque away from them,
to bid farewell just broke my heart --
the Aisles of Wal-Mart to depart.
15. Poem for Zar
Cold and hungry in the night,
a pilgrim saw a single light,
bushes that would break the wind,
a haven that might take him in,
a child with so much love to give,
a kitten with no place to live;
a soft meow was his hello,
afraid that he might have to go;
but then an angel looked his way
and offered him a place to stay,
so warm and loving to a stranger
whose nights were long and full of danger,
a place that he could call his own,
where he would never be alone –
whoever could imagine that?
Merry Christmas, tiny cat.
16. Sea Gull Motel
The waters looked deserted,
all turmoil now diverted,
a glassy mirror of the sky,
so calm and peaceful to the eye,
when suddenly a clamour
as loud as any hammer
struck my wincing ears:
the sea gulls had appeared!
Now, not just one or two
were coming into view,
but as far as I could see
sea gulls were surrounding me.
A cloud of birds was on the wing,
screeching, for they did not sing,
and looking for a place to rest
and find fresh food they might digest;
like a raucous air attack,
the flock of them was back
to claim the waters as their own,
a private, secret sea gull home.
Then, as far as I could tell,
the bay became a big motel,
one bird jostling with another,
both attempting to discover
the room with a perfect view,
not just any room would do!
Soon, from shore to shore,
no vacancies existed any more,
just the gulls in every spot,
some with fishes newly caught,
a perfect meal to end the day,
then drift and let time flow away.
I said hello and left them there,
at peace upon the waves so clear,
to their eyes I was a stranger,
but one that brought no danger:
for they indeed could clearly see
that the motel clerk was me.
17. Snowy Owl
Even in the cold
of a fierce Winter’s night,
he keeps his long watch
on all in his sight,
and nothing escapes
his clear piercing eyes,
no creature that walks,
no creature that flies.
So still he can perch
on the branch of a tree,
he’s almost invisible
to you and to me,
but the critters below
know that he’s there,
and hide from his gaze,
avoiding his stare.
Then with a whoosh
he quickly takes flight,
off on a journey
far into the night;
and when the dawn comes
he has no need to go,
but wears his disguise
and looks like the snow.
18. SWAT!
Out in the forest, deep in the woods,
live a few creatures up to no good,
they swarm you and bite you,
and will never delight you
as they buzz round your ears
and drive you to tears.
First comes Ms. Mosquito,
who, as you might know,
desires a long drink
from which you may shrink,
wishing that blood remains
safely within your veins.
Next up is Bob Black Fly,
even screens he will get by,
for he is so small and clever
that you will spot him never
as he sits down to dine,
seeking very fine wine.
Ms. Deer Fly comes next,
an utterly annoying pest –
she takes joy in stalking
any warm body walking
until she has won the day
and taken her dinner away.
And Mr. Horse Fly also enrages,
as your attention he engages,
he’s big and alarming
and not at all charming
as he settles right down
on your well exposed crown.
But before you think that’s that,
don’t forget small Mr. Gnat,
and even if you think you can,
watch out for Lady Flying Ant.
Well, now you know what’s what,
So go and take a mighty SWAT!
19. Talking Trees
In the coldest grip of Winter,
frozen water on the bay,
the creatures of the forest
sleep their days away
hiding in deep burrows
or buried in their nests,
they dare not venture out
to disturb their dreamy rest.
But out upon the chilly earth
tall trees are bending in the gale,
bearing the assault of ice
and sharing many a frosty tale –
the Pine was leaning by the Spruce,
its branches weighted down,
as it told of other brutal years
when Winter wore a frown,
when storms arose from nowhere
and threatened all with death,
how evergreens grew fearful
that they would take a final breath.
The Spruce replied with comfort,
recalling all the gales endured
and reminding Brother Pine
how their prayers were always heard,
how the Sun rose ever higher
as dread Winter turned to Spring,
how the frozen forest would rebound
to hear once more the sparrows sing;
and as they talked of brighter days
and woods revived by life reborn,
these talking trees took courage
to face each gloomy Winter morn.
And so they passed the hours,
two friends amongst the woods,
and with their branches reaching out
another Winter they withstood,
for even in the darkest times,
when all seems lost and vain,
a friend extends a hand to you,
and makes you smile again.
20. The Acrobat
She sauntered by this afternoon
and looked up towards the sky
to see a shiny plastic tube
dangling from on high,
and noticed very quickly
the seed upon the ground –
“my, my”, she said contentedly,
“just look what I have found!”
The tube was full of tasty seeds
just meant for one like her –
an arbiter of haute cuisine
dressed up in summer fur;
so up a tree she scampered
to take stock of her new find,
and how to get a tasty meal
was clearly on her mind.
To walk the rope it hung from
was just a piece of cake,
so down upon the feeder
she came with no mistake,
as graceful as an acrobat
she clung to plastic pins,
trying hard to fill her face
despite the feeder’s rapid spin.
She almost lost her footing,
turning round and round,
but sheer determination
kept her from the ground,
until at last her belly smiled,
now full of crunchy grain,
so next she found the rope
and scaled it once again,
a walker on a tightrope
was never more sublime,
and she regained the tree
in nearly record time
and then descended fast below
to continue on her way –
for a hungry woodland squirrel
what a very perfect day!
21. The Chipmunk’s Prayer
Dear Lord of Rodentdom,
with nut in hand I come,
to pray that you take heed
of all our winter needs;
the summer was too hot,
and little rain it brought,
the spruces all did moan,
bringing forth no cones.
This winter will be cold
and some of us are old,
the fox will roam the land
like a wandering gourmand,
and hawks will hover high
to see if we are nigh,
so please, dear Rodent Lord,
keep safe our little hoard --
we may be very small,
but heed our desperate call,
of us please do think,
or we may go extinct.
22. The Crooked Tree
Deep in the forest,
beyond human eyes
a crooked old tree
smiles at the sky,
struggling to rise,
stand tall and straight,
though Nature intended
a far different fate.
An ice storm had come
one cold winter’s night,
weighed down the tree,
made a terrible sight:
its trunk badly twisted,
its branches pulled down
and creaking with ice,
so close to the ground.
But when the ice melted
and warmth came anew,
this stubborn old tree,
though tilted askew,
raised up its crown
to the light of the Sun,
despite all the damage
that Winter had done,
and ever so slowly,
as each year goes by,
it comes closer and closer
to reaching the sky.
The tall trees around it
are proud of this friend,
who would not accept
a cruel, broken end,
but bravely fought back
and never surrendered,
now Lord of the Forest,
with love ever tended.
23. The Diva Next Door
Late last night I heard a roar
unlike any I have heard before:
a scream that woke me up from sleep –
a monster rising from the deep
to lie in wait under my bed
for little kids on which it fed!
I cried to Mommy, “rescue me!
There’s some creature I can’t see,
it’s growling and howling outside,
a prowling lion with its pride.”
My dearest Mom came right away
to save me from this evil bray,
she took my hand and told me “hush”,
then to the window did she rush!
It opened wide into the night –
the howling gave me such a fright –
but in her hand she held a shoe
and clearly knew just what to do:
she threw it out with deadly aim,
this fearsome creature she would maim!
No more was I some helpless peon:
gone the voice of Feline Dion.
24. The Hoods in the Woods
The hoods in the woods
are up to no good:
they’re on the attack
whenever I’m back;
a peanut in hand
creates a last stand,
they rush towards me,
and all I can see
are squirrels running,
knowing dinner’s coming;
then the fight begins
to see which one wins
the largest nutty pile
for a wide country mile.
In the corner in white
stands Mr. Fur Bright,
in the corner in blue
stands Mr. Me Too,
both ready to rumble
all over the jungle;
they grapple and claw,
a right to the jaw,
then a left to the leg –
who bothers to beg
when a really good tussle
enhances your muscles?
They roll on the ground
while others around
wait simply to see
who the winner will be;
and then Mr. Fur Bright
lands a left and a right,
sending his foe away,
our furry winner of today!
These hoods in the woods,
who are up to no good,
do better than a TV
in entertaining jaded me;
so here’s a toast at the end
to each fine furry friend,
may your days be clear,
with peanuts everywhere.
25. The Sparrow in the Stovepipe
Oh tiny good friend,
had you no fear
that smoky pipe
to come so near?
So in you did fall,
all the way down,
quite a journey
for a feathered clown;
wings all flapping,
claws on the steel,
a fearsome ruckus
and a noisy squeal.
No fire was burning,
so lucky for you,
the embers were cool
as you landed askew;
we rushed to the stove,
drawn by the sound,
and there you were
on an ashy mound.
We opened the door,
setting you free
to cover the cottage
with dust and debris;
oh the mess you made
as you flew by,
straining your wings
in search of the sky.
Now that you’ve gone
and are outside at last,
please take a moment
to remember the past;
let no more stovepipes
capture your gaze,
stick to the trees
for dust-free days.
26. Thumper the Jumper
Just open the door
and he demands more –
peanuts, I mean,
roasted and clean,
none of that cheap stuff –
just makes his fur rough –
for Thumper the Jumper
plans to get plumper,
and is now getting nervous
at the level of service.
A squirrel sublime,
wasting no time –
for winter is coming
and that’s why he’s running
from tree top to ground
where peanuts are found,
and if you don’t see him,
or don’t truly please him,
he’ll jump on your leg
and insistently beg.
He’ll crawl in your pocket
like a miniature rocket,
he’ll thump on your toe
just in case you don’t know
the rules of the game,
which are always the same:
give him his dinner
and you’re a big winner,
ignore at your peril
this mischievous devil!
27. Wet in the Woods
It’s wet in the woods,
with muck all around,
slipping and sliding
all over the ground,
an imp of a boy
plays with a bucket,
you never have heard
so much of a ruckus!
“Watch out for the puddles,
you’ll get yourself wet,
and remember the rain
isn’t done yet,
there’s much more to come
down from the sky,
so put on your hat
and don’t ask me why!
Don’t chase the rabbit,
you’ll fall on your face,
the bunny can beat you
in any mud race;
and come when I call you,
don’t try to hide,
your boots are a mess
so leave them outside,
and then take a bath
before day is done” –
yes, Spring in the forest
is sloppy and fun!
28. Winter Song of the Squirrels
Where are the peanut people
who feed us everyday
when Summer is sparkling
with ships in the bay,
when trees with their acorns
smile down upon us,
providing a bounty
with minimal fuss?
Cruel Winter has lasted
for too many months,
creating a hardship
for us and chipmunks;
so look to the sky
and pray for the Sun
to shine bright and clear,
warming up everyone.
And when Spring arrives
we all shall give thanks
that the cold is now done
with thinning our ranks,
and call to the humans
who live in our glen,
to come back with nuts
to feed us again.
29. Winter Truce
The trees are so bare
that no one would care
to race up with speed
to store what they need,
so elsewhere they look
for that all perfect nook
where winter is spent
without paying rent.
The outhouse is ragged
with planks that are jagged,
the pump hut is soggy –
great home for a froggy –
but squirrels need space
in a warm and dry place,
with room for the cones
each has gathered alone.
Oh, the sign says “for rent”
on that cottage basement,
where room is so spacious
that rivals are gracious
and willing to negotiate
a peaceful coexistence state,
to ensure that most survive
until the days of spring arrive.
All is calm and all is quiet,
no need for any rodent riot,
no jousting for survival
with summer’s former rival –
just the comfort of knowing
escape from the blowing
of winds raging and wild
for such a small furry child.
30. Zar the Ever Helpful
Of all the stalwart heroes
to battle every pest,
‘tis Zar the Ever Helpful
who stands out from all the rest,
for no matter who the foe,
and no matter what the quest,
by all his deeds and actions
Zar became the very best.
Though born a humble orphan,
which is no mean trick to do,
he travelled Oklahoma
in a search for hearts so true
that they would let him linger
until wicked storms were through,
so he could dine with mortals
and his skin would not turn blue.
Zar proved fast his hero’s worth,
chasing every foe in sight,
and humans came to value
his divinely granted might,
far and wide his name was praised,
gone the scent of human fright
when Zar the Ever Helpful
ventured in one winter’s night.
===============================================
PROSE:
1. If Jesus Had an Online Fan Forum
Let us imagine that Jesus, busy wandering around teaching people how to be good, had founded a website complete with the required "fan forum." What would that forum be like? Well, as geologists tell us, the present is the key to the past, though in this case the future may be the key to the perfect past. Don't let that bother you. It's something for grammarians to ponder, pluperfectly.
Jesus would definitely appoint Peter as his forum webmaster; after all, one does need a head as thick as a rock to take the job. Then the other disciples would draw sticks: the 5 with the shortest sticks get to be moderators. The rest could look forward to normal lives.
As soon as two fans registered, a debate would break out: where IS Jesus right now? Is he going to post on the forum? Will he send us loaves and fish? When will his Gospel be published? Will Jesus hold signings when the Good Books are published? And what is going on with Mary M.?
Peter and the Mods (also known as The Original Rock Group) will ask the members - now up to 20 - to be patient. Jesus is very busy travelling, teaching his gospel of love to all peoples. At once someone from Corinth will ask when Jesus is scheduled to appear there. A member from Nazareth will swear that Jesus never did like Greek food. A fight will break out over the merits of baklava.
The mods will consult the Good Book of Rules -- a weighty tome carved on massive blocks of granite. One will get a hernia and take a leave of absence. The rest will meet to decide whether talking about Jesus' diet is allowed, or not. The word "pork" will be banned.
A new member named Paul will claim to have inside information about Jesus, having met him, so he says, while walking to work one day. The other members will consider Paul a potential stalker and advise him to stick to letter writing, in which Paul claims to have an MA. Paul will, accordingly, start sending instant letters (ILs) to every member, assuring them that he alone knows the TRUTH about Jesus. And that it involves Peter, Paul and Mary. Maybe even Puff the Magic Dragon.
Someone will then post a topic about Jesus' sexuality, starting the biggest flame war yet known to man - WWII not yet having been invented. The mods will then point out that discussing Jesus' personal life is forbidden by the Rules, and in return they will receive hate mail from followers of Jesus' message of love. Meanwhile, Jesus is still very busy, travelling.
Soon there are thousands of members, though only 25 post regularly; the official diet of disciples will now include lots of bran. These posters now wonder out loud whether Jesus really does love them, and if so, when are his books coming out and how much will they cost? Will they be sold by Amazon or Barnes & Noble, or the Magi? Someone will then claim to have seen a promotional copy sold not by the Magi but by Three Pirates from Penzance. Members will no longer be allowed to link to pirates from any location, with the sole exception being Johnny Depp.
Things will get very quiet eventually, as Jesus is still travelling. Peter will decide to holiday in the Azores, leaving the mods to look after things. Unfortunately, he forgets to leave the Keys to the Kingdom of the Forum with the mods, who now have to pretend that they understand what is going on.
As a result, a State of Hibernation comes into being; it is located not far from Judea. Where Jesus is still very busy, travelling.
2. What the Penguins Taught Me
Penguins have not learned to fear human beings -- their main predators are skuas (raptor birds) and killer whales. When humans suddenly appear before them, coming out of some odd object now seen floating in a bay, they are not afraid, in fact they are curious. We got used to seeing masses of penguins waiting for us on the shore as our landing boats carefully made their way towards the rookeries.
Of course, we were in their territory and had pledged to abide by the rules: one does not approach a penguin nest, one does not stand as an impediment on a pathway used by the penguins, one does not try to touch a penguin. You are in their home: behave as a guest and watch with respect.
If you do this, an amazing experience awaits: curious penguins will come to you, check out your rubber boots, give you the smell test, and watch you closely, even "chirp" at you in a benign manner. Your size, skin colour, sexual orientation and religious beliefs are matters of no concern whatsoever; all that matters is how you behave. If you are respectful, you will be welcomed as just another species of penguin, a very odd distant cousin, come to visit.
In other words, they see each and every one of us as equal in all regards. They do not see those things that cause us to go to war with each other or to hate each other.
We may consider ourselves the dominant species on this planet, but we are not the wisest or the fairest. We can learn a lot from penguins.
3. After Sandy Hook (2012)
I’m writing this as a “Note” to myself after two days of looking at the world through a dark lens. This will be a long note, so to quote someone named Emily who said it in Buffalo in regard to a complex song about to be sung, “you might want to go to the bathroom now.” Or go watch a reality tv show. Anyway, you have been warned.
What took place yesterday in Connecticut brought utter darkness to my core: the world looked so ugly, so hopelessly doomed by human madness – how could anyone slaughter small, innocent children and their teachers in a school as if they were nothing but inanimate targets? Were we human beings a species worthy of existence? As someone given to dark moods, especially in the dark days of December, I went to bed angry and emotionally shattered.
And I dreamed of my grandmother.
She raised me from birth, until her death from cancer when I was 18 years. She knew the darkness in me because she fought it too, and she wanted me to see more light in the world than darkness. For 18 years she taught me that, for every evil human being, there were 100x more good human beings, people who loved and who rejected hating.
She knew hate well: when she was a small child, about the age of the children slaughtered yesterday, she and her parents fled Eastern Europe to avoid certain death at the hands of evil men. They took nothing with them – just fleeing in the night in search of sanctuary and, they hoped, passage to North America. They were given shelter by total strangers who, by doing this, risked their own lives – strangers who did not even know them worked to save their lives. These were men and women of light, not darkness. And so my grandmother and her family reached North America, with such tremendous gratitude in their hearts.
And so my dream of her last night was a message to reject the darkness, to look for and love all that is light. And this morning as I surfed the web I saw that light: so many good, loving people from all over the world drawn together by this tragedy in Connecticut and hoping, by their words and deeds, to light a light, for – as the proverb goes – it is better to light a candle than curse the dark.
I have now made my very first New Year’s resolution: I will light as many candles as I can for whatever remains of my life, and I will not waste my psychic energy on agents of darkness. So, to those who dislike me – for whatever reasons – who speak ill of me behind my back and think I do not know it, who bad-mouth all those who are not like them, who radiate only negative energy, I say to those people: I will not waste my time on you; instead I now forgive you for anything negative you have said or will say about me. Say what you wish; like my grandmother before me, I know there are better people with whom I want to spend my remaining time, who love and are compassionate, who reach out to me with the open hand of friendship. And I know they far outnumber you.
In the new year approaching I will focus my energy on all things good, loving and compassionate; I will embrace the positive light that will nurture me as I complete my journey through life. And tonight I will light a candle in honour of my grandmother.
4. Dodging the Bullets: Halifax, Feb, 14, 2015
A horrible deed was stopped in its tracks yesterday by one concerned person.
Today there was no slaughter of innocents here: Haligonians escaped a massacre that would have ended many lives and left even more wounded and maimed -- all of them (men, women and children) simply out shopping in a large urban mall on Valentine's Day, ironically, a day dedicated to love, not to hatred and evil.
We may never find out why a small gang was determined to do this, we may never understand what went on in their sick minds. But we do not have to bury any dead, and that means everything.
One person phoned in a tip to the police, and that person saved lives. Who it was, we do not know, perhaps we never will. But every person in Halifax ought to be so thankful that one person cared enough, and was brave enough, to say "no" to violence. Whoever you are, thank you, and God bless you as well as the police who did their job so well.
No one died in a hail of gunfire today, no one was maimed, this was not a day of infamy; yet, there is a sense that our city has been "violated," a shock that this could have happened in our own "backyard." Life is returning to normal, but it will be impossible to forget this, to remove "what might have been" from our hearts and minds. But Halifax is a resilient city - as history has shown - and the madness of a few will never take us down. Like the motto of our namesake frigate, HMCS HALIFAX, we stand "SIOR GAISGEIL" (Ever Brave).
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