photosharks entry Balance
'Crazy Dog Events' Crow Indian
1. Act like a crazy dog. Wear sashes & other fine clothes, carry a rattle, & dance along the roads singing crazy dog songs after everybody else has gone to bed.
2. Talk crosswise: say the opposite of what you mean & make others say the opposite of what they mean in return.
3. Fight like a fool by rushing up to the enemy & offering to be killed. Dig a hole near an enemy, & when the enemy surrounds it, leap out at them & drive them back.
4. Paint yourself white, mount a white horse, cover its eyes & make it jump down a steep & rocky bank, until both of you are crushed.~Jerome Rothenberg
There is a wolf in me. . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes. . . a red tongue for raw meat. . . and the hot lapping of blood- I keep the wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fox in me. . . a silver-gray fox. . . I sniff and guess. . . I pick things out of the wind and air. . . I nose in the dark night. . . take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers. . . I circle a loop and double-cross.
There is hog in me. . . a snout and a belly. . . a machinery for eating and grunting. . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun- I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me. . . I know I came from salt-blue watergates. . . I scurried with shoals of herring. . . I blew water-spouts with porpoises. . . before land was. . . before the water went down. . . before Noah. . . before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me. . . clambering-clawed. . . dog-faced. . . yawping a galoot's hunger. . . hairy under the armpits. . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men. . . here are the blond and blue-eyed women. . . here they hide curled asleep waiting. . . ready to snarl and kill. . . ready to sing and give milk. . . waiting- I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird. . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want. . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothill of my wishes- And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart- and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to Goes-Knows-Where- For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal to the world: I came from the wilderness. ~Carl Sandburg
jorjdotorg photohunt entry Nuts
The Core of Masculinity
The core of masculinity does not derive from being male, nor friendliness from those who console.
Your old grandmother says, "Maybe you shouldn't go to school. You look a little pale."
Run when you hear that. A father's stern slaps are better.
Your bodily soul wants comforting. The severe father wants spiritual clarity. He scolds, but eventually leads you into the open.
Pray for a tough instructor to hear and act and stay within you.
We have been busy accumulating solace. Make us afraid of how we were.(Mathnawi,VI, 1430-1445) ~Rumi