The Path by The Buddha

The Path Poem

Best of the paths is the eightfold,
best of the truths the four;
best of the virtues is freedom from attachment;
best of the people is the one who sees.
This is the path;
there is no other that leads to the purifying of insight.

Follow this path, and Mara will be confused.
If you follow this path, you will end your suffering.
This path was preached by me
when I became aware of the removal of the thorns.
You yourself must make the effort.
The perfected ones are only preachers.
Those who enter the path and practice meditation
are released from the bondage of Mara.

“All created things perish.”
Whoever realises this transcends pain;
this is the clear path.

“All created things are sorrow.”
Whoever realises this transcends pain;
this is the clear path.

“All forms are unreal.”
whoever realises this transcends pain;
this is the clear path.

Whoever does not rise when it is time to rise,
who, though young and strong, is lazy,
who is weak in will and thought,
that lazy and idle person will not find the path of wisdom.

Watching one’s speech, restraining well the mind,
let one not commit any wrong with one’s body.
Whoever keeps these three roads of action clear,
will make progress on the path taught by the wise.

Through meditation wisdom is gained;
through lack of meditation wisdom is lost.
Whoever knows this double path of progress and decline,
should place oneself so that wisdom will grow.

Cut down the forest of desires, not just a tree;
danger is in the forest.
When you have cut down the forest and its undergrowth,
then, mendicants, you will be free.

As long as the desire, however small,
of a man for women is not destroyed,
so long is his mind attached,
like a sucking calf is to its mother.

Cut out the love of self,
like an autumn lotus, with your hand.
Cherish the path of peace.
Nirvana has been shown by the Buddha.

“Here I shall live in the rain,
here in winter and summer.”
Thus thinks the fool, not thinking of death.
Death comes and carries off that person
who is satisfied with one’s children and flocks,
whose mind is distracted,
like a flood carries off a sleeping village.

Sons are no help, nor a father, nor relations;
for one who is seized by death, there is no safety in family.
Understanding the meaning of this, the wise and just person
should quickly clear the path that leads to nirvana.

by The Buddha

Save Animals Save Ourselves

Gorilla Imagination

the ultimate used his creativity,
and planned for a huge diversity,
tiger, lion, parrot, carrot everyone else,
from every nationality,
we are sanctity,
if you have humanity,
you don’t hope yourselves as vanity.
we are one among in you,
but you made us few.
you will flourish,
if you save us.
you will perish,
if you pave us.
we roar to all his creativity,
to have a little humanity.
to save, not pave.
we buzz to help us,
rather you fuss.
we all fall in pathos,
save us and have kudos.
enshrine, not destroy,
all world can heal,
let us plant tree and leave them free.
almighty created all of us,
let them also take a chance to live
killing animals should not be a fun
so let all put our hands together to shun

by masarapu navyasree

Bandit of My Heart

Oh, Bandit, what’s your impish task
While sporting, sly, that little mask?

You seem quite innocent and frail
Yet the kitchen tells a different tale

Floor all messy, the counters, too
Paw prints that led straight to you

But while I had a penance planned
You’re far too sweet to reprimand

Looking slumberous in your slouch
Reclining leisurely upon the couch

Soon you’ll close those kitty eyes
And off you’ll scamper to fantasize

Such fuzzy mitts you’ll fuzzily flail
While prizing creatures, (and your tail)

I can’t help query what you’ll scheme
While making mischief in your dream

Though doubts, have I, it can’t outdo
The pranks you pull while being You

But antics granted, here you’ll stay
Because I’d have you no other way

So while you’re “Plunder-On-All-Fours”
You’ve plundered, too, this heart..

That’s yours

by Gregory R Barden

Welcome to the community

baby lion cub

In this role I have an relationship
In this role also a just close relationship
There’s an attachment, mutual attachment
There’s an association and I want nothing in return for it
In this role we’re a bond
In this role we tie a link there’s union
There’s again I want nothing from you
There’s again a just have an relationship
There’s again is just a close relationship
In this role fellowship comradeship, companionship,
In this role lasting friendships trust may fallout but come right back
There’s an relationship between friends sends a message I always got ya back

• F— Feeling fellowship to my fellow man in whom I love abundantly
• R—Reporting rapport understanding in unity more affinity in harmony
• I— Intimacy so I’ll have an mutual love for man and mankind
• E—Empathy toward me and others esteem
• N—Natural love sociability solidarity benevolence
• D—Delving declaiming closeness, rapport, unity

In this role and when my wrongs are forgiven you reach out with no strife
Friendship – this is what the role does and how it plays in my life

by James Edward Lee Sr.

Kindness to Animals

Giraffe Child

Little children, never give
Pain to things that feel and live;

Let the gentle robin come
For the crumbs you save at home;
As his meat you throw along
He’ll repay you with a song.

Never hurt the timid hare
Peeping from her green grass lair,
Let her come and sport and play
On the lawn at close of day.

The little lark goes soaring high
To the bright windows of the sky,
Singing as if t’were always spring,
And fluttering on an untired wing –
Oh! Let him sing his happy song,
Nor do these gentle creatures wrong.

~ Author unknown

KINDNESS TO ANIMALS

1 Be kind to animals, my child:
2 Don’t make the gentle ringworm wild.
3 Little children shouldn’t tease
4 Little Fido’s littler fleas.
5 When you see th’industrious ant
6 Too heavy burdened toil and pant,
7 Ease him of his irksome load,
8 Lift it for him down the road.
9 Don’t bite the little worm in half
10 That in your lettuce hides-just laugh,
11 Politely stroke his slimy head,
12 And eat some other things instead.
13 Speak not harshly to the moth
14 Though she dines on fur and cloth,
15 Remember everyone must eat,
16 –Why not offer her a treat?-
17 Cut a large sized bit of fur
18 From your coat and give it her,
19 Such unselfishness as this
20 Will fill your Mother’s heart with bliss.
21 And lastly, pray do not encroach
22 With heavy tread upon the roach,
23 The insect’s jellified remains
24 Afflict the rugs with horrid stains.
25 Be gentle to these fellow creatures,
26 And ever learn to love your teachers.

A. J. M. Smith, The Complete Poems, ed. Brian Trehearne (London, Ontario: Canadian Poetry Press, 2007): 188-89.

7 Facts you may not know about dogs

7 Facts you may not know about dogs

1) Dogs form their tongue into a cup when drinking

2) The spike collar was designed to protect dogs from wolves

3) Dogs can see in color

4) Dogs can smell disease

5) Dogs dream too!

6) Dogs have three eyelids

7) Dogs only sweat through their feet

A Dog Has Died – Poem by Pablo Neruda
My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.

Some day I’ll join him right there,
but now he’s gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I’ll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.

Ai, I’ll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he’d keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.

Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea’s movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean’s spray.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don’t now and never did lie to each other.

So now he’s gone and I buried him,
and that’s all there is to it.

Translated, from the Spanish, by Alfred Yankauer

The Smile BY WILLIAM BLAKE

Smile Poem

There is a Smile of Love
And there is a Smile of Deceit
And there is a Smile of Smiles
In which these two Smiles meet

And there is a Frown of Hate
And there is a Frown of disdain
And there is a Frown of Frowns
Which you strive to forget in vain

For it sticks in the Hearts deep Core
And it sticks in the deep Back bone
And no Smile that ever was smild
But only one Smile alone

That betwixt the Cradle & Grave
It only once Smild can be
But when it once is Smild
Theres an end to all Misery

Smile, Smile, Smile
BY WILFRED OWEN
Head to limp head, the sunk-eyed wounded scanned
Yesterday’s Mail; the casualties (typed small)
And (large) Vast Booty from our Latest Haul.
Also, they read of Cheap Homes, not yet planned;
“For,” said the paper, “when this war is done
The men’s first instinct will be making homes.
Meanwhile their foremost need is aerodromes,
It being certain war has just begun.
Peace would do wrong to our undying dead,—
The sons we offered might regret they died
If we got nothing lasting in their stead.
We must be solidly indemnified.
Though all be worthy Victory which all bought.
We rulers sitting in this ancient spot
Would wrong our very selves if we forgot
The greatest glory will be theirs who fought,
Who kept this nation in integrity.”
Nation?—The half-limbed readers did not chafe
But smiled at one another curiously
Like secret men who know their secret safe.
(This is the thing they know and never speak,
That England one by one had fled to France
Not many elsewhere now save under France).
Pictures of these broad smiles appear each week,
And people in whose voice real feeling rings
Say: How they smile! They’re happy now, poor things.

Come into Animal Presence

Come into Animal Presence Poem

Come into Animal Presence
BY DENISE LEVERTOV

Come into animal presence.
No man is so guileless as
the serpent. The lonely white
rabbit on the roof is a star
twitching its ears at the rain.
The llama intricately
folding its hind legs to be seated
not disdains but mildly
disregards human approval.
What joy when the insouciant
armadillo glances at us and doesn’t
quicken his trotting
across the track into the palm brush.

What is this joy? That no animal
falters, but knows what it must do?
That the snake has no blemish,
that the rabbit inspects his strange surroundings
in white star-silence? The llama
rests in dignity, the armadillo
has some intention to pursue in the palm-forest.
Those who were sacred have remained so,
holiness does not dissolve, it is a presence
of bronze, only the sight that saw it
faltered and turned from it.
An old joy returns in holy presence.

Best talking parrot in the world!

Best talking parrot in the world!

Clover is a Congo African Grey parrot can speak over 350 words. This video was Clover’s winning entry in the “professional” division of the Kaytee International “Best Talking Parrot” competition in 2011.

Watch this video and be amazed at all of the words that this parrot can speak.

Of all the creatures on earth, only humans and birds can produce human languages. Have you ever spoken with a parrot?

Poem: Horse and Rider

Poems about horses

Poem: Horse and Rider by Kim Schilling

Galloping towards the base of the steep hill,
watching the breeze bluster through her mane,
with a mild touch I veered her with reign;
For a serene moment all time stood still.

Horse and mount journeying with great skill,
but collectively as one we must attain;
Galloping towards the base of the steep hill,
watching the breeze bluster through her mane.

Feeling the power beneath me is a thrill,
and racing across the meadowy plane,
a feeling rushes over I can’t explain,
perhaps the reality of taking a spill;
Galloping towards the base of the steep hill.

 

Here’s another great poem entitled “Boot and Saddle” by Robert Browning:

Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my Castle, before the hot day
Brightens the blue from its silvery grey,

(Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”

Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you’d say;
Many’s the friend there, will listen and pray
“God’s luck to gallants that strike up the lay,

(Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”

Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads array:
Who laughs, Good fellows ere this, by my fay,

(Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”

Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, “Nay!
I’ve better counsellors; what counsel they?”

(Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”

 

The Fly-Away Horse by Eugene Field

Oh, a wonderful horse is the Fly-Away Horse–
Perhaps you have seen him before;
Perhaps, while you slept, his shadow has swept
Through the moonlight that floats on the floor.
For it’s only at night, when the stars twinkle bright,
That the Fly-Away Horse, with a neigh
And a pull at his rein and a toss of his mane,
Is up on his heels and away!
The moon in the sky,
As he gallopeth by,
Cries: “Oh! What a marvelous sight!”
And the Stars in dismay
Hide their faces away
In the lap of old Grandmother Night.

It is yonder, out yonder, the Fly-Away Horse
Speedeth ever and ever away–
Over meadows and lane, over mountains and plains,
Over streamlets that sing at their play;
And over the sea like a ghost sweepeth he,
While the ships they go sailing below,
And he speedeth so fast that the men on the mast
Adjudge him some portent of woe.
“What ho, there!” they cry,
As he flourishes by
With a whisk of his beautiful tail;
And the fish in the sea
Are as scared as can be,
From the nautilus up to the whale!

And the Fly-Away Horse seeks those far-away lands
You little folk dream of at night–
Where candy-trees grow, and honey-brooks flow,
And corn-fields with popcorn are white;
And the beasts in the wood are ever so good
To children who visit them there–
What glory astride of a lion to ride,
Or to wrestle around with a bear!
The monkeys, they say:
“Come on, let us play,”
And they frisk in the coconut-trees:
While the parrots, that cling
To the peanut-vines sing
Or converse with comparative ease!

Off! scamper to bed — you shall ride him to-night!
For, as soon as you’ve fallen asleep,
With a jubilant neigh he shall bear you away
Over forest and hillside and deep!
But tell us, my dear, all you see and you hear
In those beautiful lands over there,
Where the Fly-Away Horse wings his far-away course
With the wee one consigned to his care.
Then grandma will cry
In amazement: “Oh, my!”
And she’ll think it could never be so.
And only we two
Shall know it is true–
You and I, little precious! shall know!