I Found This In My Dharma Pub This Morning:

I found this in my dharma pub this morning:

"The Seeds of Lasting Peace"

Patience is an enormously supportive and even magical practice. It’s a way of completely shifting the fundamental human habit of trying to resolve things by either going to the right or the left, labeling things “good” or labeling them “bad.” It’s the way to develop fearlessness, the way to contact the seeds of war and the seeds of lasting peace—and to decide which ones we want to nurture.

Practical Self Reliance

60+ Nasturtium Recipes ~ Food, Drinks, Remedies & More

Nasturtium recipes can be hard to find, and even those gardeners that know nasturtiums are edible tend to just snack on them right out in th

Nasturtium majus is the indigenous species for where I live in TX. This might be a tasty addition to my garden. I'm open to foraging, but the foraging in practice might be more dangerous with so many unknown factors. I don't know how many of my neighbors, or the city parks and recs, spray pesticides or herbicides.

Currently Reading

“Fire in Paradise” 

by. Alastair Gee

What My Father Knows

by Ross Shideler

My father raised me to know

that I am not different

from anyone else. This knowledge

makes me respond to you all

with doubt.

If you dreamed

as an eight year old

of shoveling coal into a furnace

and the furnace exploded

blowing you sky high,

and you saw from up there

while hanging to a stove pipe

the entire city, then

came down slowly

to the basement again,

why don’t you wish

to be a bird as I do?

And assuming

that you discovered around fourteen

that your parents were nice

but not your own

and you watched every night

for a starship to arrive,

why aren’t you aware of how alien

we all are to this planet?

Perhaps most confusing

is that I know you have spent

as many days and nights

as I have fearing death

and dreaming of a private escape

or of a discovery to save everyone,

yet still you seem to forget

what heroes and heroines we are

to get up every morning,

to go to bed every night.

Ways to Disappear

In the dark

Down a stairwell

Through the doorway

Gone west

With a new wish

In daylight

Down the sidewalk

In a wool coat

In a white dress

Without a name

Without asking

On your knees

On your stomach

Gone silent

In the backseat

In the courtroom

In a cage

In the desert

In the park

Gone swimming

On the shortest night

At the bottom of the lake

In pieces

In pictures

Without meaning

Without a face

Seeking refuge

In a new land

Gone still

In the heart

With your head bowed

In deference

In sickness

In surrender

With your hands up

On the sidewalk

In the daylight

In the dark

Poem by. Camille Rankine

I Don’t Say Goodbye, I Only Say Ciao

Poem by. Gabrielle Octavia Rucker

What bloody lense holds firm between this mystery & us? Two shiny crows

tapping intelligently on the glass of a dream.

Please! Do not make me do the human things—

I must tend to my many plankton realities,

must be off with my better self:

One million faces lined

along a mirrored tunnel & in each that same tricky knot begging.

You couldn’t know how long I suffered over it, my long waiting at the end of the maze.

I can only guess what you think I’m after, stretching in the mirror

while you rattle on about sabotage,

an old tension springing in the body.