Hello People
I hope you are finding some realness, some peace, some love and things to ponder in this newsletter. Some realness and love we all share beyond borders, beyond colors and beyond bars. May we all send our healing powers beyond borders. My friend Maret says she wants to know about my whole life and recap the month and let them merge into eachother one after the other like clouds above the sea.
Right now this moment feeling a bit sad, lonely or melancholic. Thniking of yesterdays..Tired of these days of prison. Thinking of the beatles song ”Yesterday” and of MATTHEW ARNOLD poem ”Dover Beach” and of my poem ”Krama Debt”. Not feeling sorry for self..it’s not my nature. But I’m tired of prison. Tired of the damn metal doors and tiny windows. Tired of the funny people in green suits telling me which way to walk on the track. Tired of people telling me they will help me get out of prison then finding out it’s not an easy road so they disappear. Yes I am melancholic and I’ll bend, I’ll sway like bamboo in the wind but keep my heart and spirit strong. Just a little tired because I have now been in prison longer than I lived in the free world.
Jan Jönsson and Judith have spoken of my silences and over the years silence is where I go especially when I am feeling melancholic. In prison you more or less has to pretend to have silence - silence whithin your soul, your heart and spirit because in prison there is no pure silence, any real silence, natural silence that you can find in the free world. Therefore I found silence in not speaking. I remember in my early days at San Quentin and not speaking I felt really balanced and good inside and open to the universe and what it had to teach me. I was able to see things more clearly without the clutter of words. When I did speak I really had something to say. Back then at San Quentin before I found out or it surfaced that I was a poet, a writer and actor. I was so shy and rarely spoke to anyone anyways. I just wanted to grow -- to learn and enjoy silences.
I used to write stuff down before I knew I was a poet and writer. But would throw things away because I had no way of knowing what I was writing meant anything. I wrote letters and did some work in prison school and studies on my own but I put no literary value to my texts. I have two things I saved before I knew I could write and here they are. One piece ”RAGE” I wrote for someone at least three years before I found my niche. Th eother piece I don’t remember when I jotted it down but I am pretty sure I did it before I found my skills. Don’t know if I’ve shared these pieceswith anyone except that one person who came from Oregon to visist me. The other piece is called ”A Thousand Moons”
RAGE
This rage I feel is not ordinary rage
it’s extraordinary rage
deep inside
that shakes my whole being
This rage I feel in my heart
is for you dear lady
But don’t desapir sweet lady
This rage I feel is sweet
natural rage in my heart
that cannot be denied
This rage I feel is love
which is more than a sentiment,
it is A hunger, a want, a thirst
Love is the beginning and end
the one force in life
and nature that will not
be denied
once truely and surely found
It is a sweet rage that
never grows old
for ones like us who loves
deeply can never grow old
Although we may die
of old age But our love
and spirit will be such
as it is, everlasting
This rage dep inside, the sweetest
most encompassing feeling
there is
your sweet, sweet love.
The key to this rage.
A THOUSAND MOONS
ADAM: A thousand moons I have traveled through the wildest tempsts to lye here at your gumdrop toes.
EVE: What?
ADAM: Surely, you must lend me your ears dear lady.
EVE: Sure tell me some more.
ADAM: There must be a vacancy in your heart, your life for such a fool as I.
EVE: Where did you come from? (Sh eponders) Where did I come form?
ADAM: Kiss me.
EVE: Kiss you? What is kiss...kiss...kiss. It sound nice.
ADAM: I don’t know. What is kiss (He ponders). But I think we put our lips together.
EVE: What if your lips never parted.
ADAM: Then we would surely be one.
EVE: How would we brush our teeth?
ADAM: We can move one lip at a time.
EVE: But we would be stuck together.
ADAM: Honey would loosen us.
EVE: Honey?
ADAM: Yes, sugar.
(They kiss)
EVE: You are not such a bad fellow after all.
ADAM: You are not the root to all evil.
EVE: No, not a bad fellow.
ADAM: Why because we kissed?
EVE: No
ADAM: What then?
EVE: The sweatness.
ADAM: Sweatness?
EVE: Yes, to sweet to be bitter.
ADAM: That we are.
EVE: Let’s light some incents and dwell on this love.
ADAM: What love?
EVE: Our love moon head.
Now that I think about it more and reread this poem ”A thousand moons” I don’t know when I wrote it but it was after I found out I was a poet and before I started acting. I know I was at San Quentin when I wrote it.
I’ll start this day by remembering last night. I went through some old unfinished writing and came across a scene I had written as a part of a bigger screen play. We was as a groop taught by a true screen writer from Hollywood to write screen plays and I was at Lancaster Prison. The class met once a week. The screen play was to be about aliens from another planet. In this project we were all assigned scenes to write. Unfortunaely the class only met three times total before the screen writer from Hollywood ran out on us.
He had spoken the week before about possibly going to Hawaii to write about some surfer dudes. He had already done the treatment. I think he got 30 grand for the treatment. The guy, the screenwriter he did not come back to tell us he had quit the class. Anyways I found the scenes I wrote and turned them into a stage play. A one act play that I will send to Michel and hopefully it will be worthy of being performed somewhere.
I got up at 5:30 AM and I don’t turn out the light. I do my bath room stuff. We are allowed stingers or hot pots to heat hot water for coffee or soup or tea. I fit myself some coffee sometimes before breakfast but usually afterwards. I go back to my bunk and do my situps, leg lifts, crunches and other stomach work with some light stretching- need to do heavier strestching though. Then I do cross legged meditation or lieing down depending on if I do my meditation before or after I work out. The mediatation I do varies and is a combination of Transcendental meditation mixed with my own meditation on things. I gleaned from Zen and other books and forms of meditation and I also use thoughts from my studies of a course in Miricles studies and my thoughts on nature.
Sometimes I go to these different places I have created inside myself. I think I draw them out sometimes now. Although I only started doing drawings recently and I enjoy the expression.. it is not my thing. Perhaps I’ll share a drawing sometimes anyways because it can be an expression of ones inner landscape. I don’t meditate as much and as long as I used to. Carlos Santana and Steve Collins used to come in to San Quentin in my early years and did Transcendental Meditation with us, or course in Miricles. Both showed no fear and came into San Quentin without body guards. Back then in th 80’s positive programs were still happening in prisons as oppose to now. Carlos Santana brought his band into San Quentin and did concert on lower yard and allowed me to work on stage. I see why both those cats are so successful. They are both real and cool.
Sometimes I meditate with my eyes open or closed and be in a state between sleep and awakened.
Today I made my coffee after I meditated and just before breakfast. I have my note book, newsletter book and paper right beside on the metal stool sticking out from the back of the cell. I pick up my pen and write some and get dressed and wait for the call for breakfast.
I walk to breakfast watching the sparrows -- seeing if they have brought out any of their babies to the small fish pond that has been neglected and all the fish have died. The pond is still there on the corner where I walk to chow.
It is a shock to find a 12 by 7 inch fish pond in any prison and none of the other four yards here at Pleasant Valley State Prison, A, B, C, D or E yard has a fish pond. This pond up until last year where booming with gold fish and a couple of toads hung out there. But now there are no fish there and the water sits silent and lonely. In soring no fish swirling around mateing and having babies . I lived watching the baby fish in the pond go from a light tannish brown to gold, orange or white.
I remember in the early 80’s when I was at San Quentin. In the far corner of the lower yard was a little area with a tiny stream and fish pond and a couple of trees called coyote park. But it too was torn down and filed in long before I left San Quentin.
Here since there are no more fish in the waters I hope they leave it there for a bird bath for the sparrows, wriens, cowbirds, crows, ravens and other bords I dont know the name of. There are still a sprinkle of flowers around the pond too. When I get visits I can point from the visiting yard and show people the pond area. Anyways that is a sad bit of nature gone in a place where nature and naturalness is frouned.
I mean they say they want to be a better human being but then take away everything that one can use or relate too to help in this process. Just like this state of California and it’s governement is doing now with day care centers, health care, education and teachers -- gutting
those programs and laying off thousands of prison teachers..spending more money at prisons but not on prisoners or programs that have proven to work..that turn people away from prison life. There are thousands of prisoners in California prisons that is the prison system let them go most would never come back to prison and would be productive people somewhere on this planet.
Anyways I am getting off the subject again which a day, a month--this month, this moment in prison and my walk to breakfast. There are still a few flowers at the tiny pond--basically our only bit of nature except for the endless sky and the sun and the moon and now and then at night we can see Jupiter or Venus. they have not taken away the sky yet at this prison. Besides, even if they did, I haveskies, sweet deserts, gorgeous mountains and forests and jungles and other plush nature spots inside. The electric fences, barbed wire and razor wire cannot kill all the birds.
I wanted Michel to be able to film there by the pound because I could whistle and get a sparrow or a blck bird or two in the film or picture. The birds here are not as trusting as once back when I was at CMC-prison. Some of those birds would follow me around the prison or even into the classroom or outside the door where I was a teacher’s assistant.
Still I think I could have persuaded a few birds to get into the film. This prison did not allow Michel to come in to film me.
As human beings no matter if one is in a physical prison or not we all walk one foot in darkness and one foot in light. We all are students and teachers in life. If I or any prisoner have something positive, enlightening, helpful and real to share with someone else here or in the free world. Why let such talent or sharing be hinder or go to waste? Why only allow the darkness side of a prioner to be seen? The most worse human beings have never been in a physical prison.
I mean I messed up decades ago and what happened was not intention but I took responsability although I was overcharged and over emvicted. Yet what i did do all those years ago is not me nor does it define who I am today. I strive to get realer and realer every moment on this planet. All I want to do is to be real and be of service to people of love, peace and forgiveness and to love, write and act. I mean if you believe in sin, karma, or mistakes , you learn from them and try to heal all parties involved and then you keep glowing and growing. No one’s any better then any one else no matter where they are at, the beginning and end is the same.
Everythings--all the building are in an egglike circle around the football sized yard. We walk on the black top to chow. Across from the little pond is the education office that is next to the tiny chapel which is next to the ”Pentagon” where prison officers and officials have their offices and hang out in and also where they hold main classification of prisoners. Next comes the small library with hardly any books in it. Then comes the laundry room and the canteen. Next comes the gym which is used as a drom to house more prisoners.A storage place for prisoners awaiting transfer or who have only days, months or couple of years before they are released. Then there comes the chow hall where black widows live in the high roofs and sometimes thread their way down as we sit eating in the chow hall.
Continuing around the circle back to cellblock where I live, just outside the chowhall is a high gate topped with razor wire. The gate leads to a storage area and to another gate that leads to the next prison yard which is ”B” yard.
In between th gates sits a railroad box car type storage trailor, all metal where yard workers equipment is stored along with some other stuff.
There is another small shed inside the two gate area. ther are som mongrel cats living in that area under the box trailor and under the shed. Ther are cats of many colours, white, tan and brown. A black female cat and a big spotted male cat. I have seen no baby cats this year. Last year the female black cat was born. Here it is going on June and there are no kittens. I feed the cats now and then. There are people who feed them every day and the cats are fat. I see them often trying to sneak up on the birds. I still hope to see som ekittens this year.
Right across from the main guntower on the yard in a little fenced in area that used to be the weight pile. But all the weights are gine out of California prisons so there are just pull up and dip bars and sit up benches. After doing a workout in the pit especially when ther are not that many people around like today I feed the birds there. I either whistle or some would see me over there and come over the fence. The same two mother sparrows come by that I feed every spring especially late spring. One of the female sparrow flutter her wings like a baby bird aasking for bread. the two mothers come back and forth about 20 times taking food back to their nest to the babies. Hopefully I’ll get to count the times today and watch the sparrows.
I come back from breakfast and read and write some and ponder. Some times I do more crunches. I wait for them to call yard. Yard is supposed to be at 9:00 AM but usually it happens between 9:00 and 11:00 AM. On the yard I run a few laps first around the dirt track and I like to do that 3 times a week. I am not trying to loose any weight and hope to lock in a six pack some day. Which is not easy for me because I love eating. On weekends I like watching cooking shows. I am not a ggod cook myself but I think I could learn to be. I watch Martha Steward cooking or planting shows in the mornings before yard too. I remember watching the famous Ethopian Swedish famous cook in a cook off on the great chiefs of the world show.
Now and the I watch the network morning shows if there is some writer/actor or poet or someone real I know is going to be or some famous or cool cook show ar animals on there. Otherwise the american Network shows are so balantly bias and ran by the government and the rich. The Networks and the people rpresenting the network on TV are not free, nor free to be real. Not only because of the money the talk and news show people get in America. But because they are afraid of the truth and know it can get them hurt. So the morning shows along with the talk shows bite their tongues and I am surprised if any of the, still have tongues. American media is not free and never have been.
I made my tea, because yard release has been delayed. No program today so far and it is now 10 AM. Word is there will be a meeting between southern mexicans, Piza’s and the whites who had a little riot in cellblock three. It has been six days since they fought and all three groups have been on total lockdown.
Did some reading of poetry by a poet I have never read before. Now I am writing and pondering--waiting for the yard to open so that I can do my workout. Reminds me of my ”Waiting for Godot” days. Waiting is the norm in this prison. Waiting and even when something comes -- it is nothing -- and then you just wait some more, and do what it takes not to beat the waiting, but to be one with the waiting, using it like motar to build something. Not a home because prison is never a human beings or an animals home. Both are meant to be out in nature. Not ancased in concrete and steel. Blinded by artificial lights hiding the moon and stars. The moon loves fire but I wonder how she feels about artifical light. So I sit waiting. Now it’s 11:00 AM and still no program, no yard.
I try not to complain and remember my ancestors and their history in this country.
It is true I put myself in prison and yet in most countrys I would have been out of prison three times by now. If politics and other coourful ingredients were not a factor in this country. When does one become a political prisoner? After how much time is a crime payed for?
I try not to complain but I am sure I have something to contribute to any free growthful society.
When the american prison system were full of mainly white prisoners from top to bottom sentences for every crime were lighter. But once the priosns started to overflow with people of color, people could get life for even stealing a pizza or a bic lighter.
I try not to complain but today I am going where my thoughts take me. While I wait for the yard call. So I can do my work out.
Still no program and it’s almost one o’clock and now I must stop thinking of working out and try to get a shower if they open dayromom. Sometimes there are conflicts because there are not enough showers to go around when there has been no program and everyone wnats tehir shower for that day.Hopefully I’ll shower and then go feed the birds they open program. I’ll make up the workout later this week.
1:30 and I can forget about shower and just take a bird bath in the sink.
2:15 they have let us out of the cells. I want out to the weight pit and feed the birds. The same two mother birds kept trying to come by for food but the workout pit was to crowded with people. Still the two mother birds and one father bird came to the far corner of the pit and I tossed them some crumbs.
I did not work out and came back to cell for 4:30 count. We come back for dinner between 5:40 and 6:45 PM. It is daylight saving time so it stays light until around 8:20 PM or so and the birds bonce around eating and feeding their young. There has been plenty of aprl and may showers this year which has brought on more plant life.
I ampondering how to sum up this month or passed month. The weather’s been chilly and rainy. The cells have been cold with the air conditioning on already though at night it is 40 to 50 degrees outside. The blowers are blowing really cold air. Yet when summer comes and it is relly hot the blowers tapper way off somehow.
I made another cup of tea and I am describing the day and month. Sitting here awaiting dinner. 5:50 PM and they are ready to run chow. I’ll try to bring some bread out to the birds on the far side of the ard by the chow hall.
The birds wait sometimes with their young ones in the chain link fence. Last spring in 2002 I fed them every day when I came out of the chow hall. But the we got put on lockdown for about a month and two weeks and we were not allowed to leave the cells. When we came out from lockdown the birds no longer waited in the evening after chow. they did not come back that year.
But it’s spring again and ther are new babies and the birds are back. Perhaps the whole summer I’ll be able to feed them without a lockdown to stop the flow.
Back from chow and they served some kind of brooth and about 10 strips of lettuce and carrots -- not enough for a baby rabbit. There was about three spoons of green beans and a piece of cake a little larger than a small bar of soap and about a half a cup of mushy rice.
So I am back in cell thinking of what I am going to have for a real dinner. Some sardines, Top romen soup or some spam or suage from the store. I am thankful for the food packages from my brother Abe -- my mom and Abe used to send them but since my mom passed Abe have been sending them. I know some of my other brothers use to contribute to my packages. I don’t know if they still do. I know the food really comes in handy on days like this when the prison meals are extra tore up or you find a roach or rat tards inthe food. They have cut the prison food budget in California prison although prisons have been given an increase in funding. The increase is not being spent on prisoners. Anyways, I am waiting for night yard and take my clerk work bag out to the pit. If it is still light. I hope I can find something more to share with the birds or just watch them and fly with them.
Back in the cell for the night 9:00 PM and I made another cup of tea and opened a can of spam with honey and cheese spread and some crackers for dinner. I have my one a day vitamins. I’ll eat and ponder and close this day out. I watched some TV and now it’s sleep time and having for a cool dream, a dream I can jot down before it goes back to where dreams go.
I had a dream about my mom last night although her spirit left her body back in the 80’s. I have often reamed about her and usually mom’s been cocking some of my favourite foods. And usually there is an animal friend that comes to eat dinner with us. The one animal I remember the most that came to dinner is a deer. The deer would sit down and eat and talk with us.
Otherwise my mom ir there letting me know that I am on the right track in life. I say 9.9 times out of ten if prisoners or anyone had the wisdom to listen to their moms, things would be different. I know a lot of times growing up we think what we do moms know nothing about, because they are not in our shoes experiencing pressure to be with the cool, hip or the crowd. Smoking, sexing and doing dope -- going banging, beating down people or doing whatever seems to be the thing for the moment. Deep inside you there is a place where moms left their wisdom and we have clouded it out. We cannot find that spot inside where moms left that wisdom. We cannot touch that place most often until some tragedy happens. That tender spot of realness and love your mom’s instilled in you is found again or for the first time. We feel the link again, that unconditional love that has alwaays been there.
Unclouded you see, know and feel that everything your mom told you was real and for your own realness. She was really inspiring you to be yourself, your own essence -- to walk in your own shoes.
you don’t want to smoke, do drugs, steal, kill or bang, don’t do it. Moms really do have six or seven (maybe more) senses when it comes to their children.
Even if now we are cought up in prison or some other negative environment me can hear moms realness touching ours and bounce into the sunshine -- one foot in darkness; one foot in light. It is never too late to listen to mom’s wisdom and grow and glow. -- to walk in your own shoes creating and doing realness stuff instead of destroying things.
If I can strive and create and walk in my own shoe in this setting despite all of the time I’ve done, so can you in any kind of prison or none prison. Especially once in touch with that unconditional mother’s wisdom inate in each of us or imported to each of us at birth. A tender loving place.
How do I sum up this month? Let me see.
Well I went to work today and forgot to drink my coffee after breakfast. So I have a ponding coffee headache. I am thinking about quiting coffee again and just drink tea. I normally drank one cup of coffee a day. I had forgotten how hard hitting no coffee head aches can be. I don’t like coffee or anything like that to have control over me causing me not to be able to read, write or ponder things.
the weather people have been talking about rain here for days. I look out and there has been no rain here in prison valley -- that is what this and many other valleys full of prisons in California shoould be called. Prison Valley instead of Pleasant Valley.
If I was out in about in nature and away from metal, razor wine and cement -- the nature afar might be pleasant. the bees. some trees, the cow birds, sparows, black birds and wrens.
The ravens I thought were crows have come back and tried to put their nest up on the light poles and each day the warders roll the lights down and destroy their nest. The nest battle with the warders have been going on for months now from pole to pole. The ravens have not given in. I better save some of this for the Bird stuff section of newsletter. I still think if they don’t move on -- no babies for them this year.
Back to the rain. For days now they have predicted rain and it has been raining a lot this month just not here in prison valley.
At the end of last year and the beginning of this year there has been fog. First time in the three years in the three years I have been here in Prison Valley. The fog gives the warders here perfect excuse for not running program hours after the fog has gone. When the fog is out and thick -- It is understandable there is no program.
My allergies have gotten better and itis not as it was -- my head felt like a big tidal wave was inside it swashing from one side to the other. I never had allergies until I came here. A combination of bad air, pesticides and other polutions heavy in the prison valley.
My friend Anna asked why is it the prison won’t allow Michel to come in and film me since San Quentin allowed Jan Jönsson and his film and many other film crews to come inside when we did ”Wating for Godot”. She wonders what does this prison have to hide? These new prisons like Pleaseant Valley built out in nowheres -- the middle of the desert, forest or deep in the frarm lands, like this prison. San Quentin was built between cities where there are a lot of realness folks. If the prison and warders had something to hide it was harder to do so.
Now days with prisons way out in nowheres. The warders run the prison like there own little dictatorship -- afraid any positive filming about a prisoner might expose their foot in darkness.
Perhaps this prison is hiding its malnourishing food and the filthy conditions in its kitchen. The lack of proper medical and psychological or mental health care. The horrible educational system here and no self help program.
Oh yes, the food horriboy cooked and stored causes and keeps prisoners stomachs indigested and gassed up. Over crowded cells and gyms. Perhaps its the bad water the prison poorly recycles that keeps prisoners stomachs messed up. the warders only drink bottle water.
Supposedly the state has stopped building new prisons although they keep adding on to th old ones and on to the new ones. Right next door to Pleasant Valley they are adding on to this prison and it will be the same size as this prison which means thousands of more people will be put in this new place. The building goes on with over a million people in american prisons -- mainly people of color. There is supposed to be one America not many. Does this prison have anything to hide? Yes, all new prisons do.
Other than nature and her surprise. I found a moment of realness when we founded an actors group in this prison a couple of years ago. We did scenes from Charles Dickens’s ”A Christmas Carol”. Charles Dickens one of the writers I admire.
Anyways the leader of our acting group was Dean, an actor/writer/director from the streets. Dean also had written a realistic historical screen play about George Washington Caver and with all of Cavers accomplishments Dean wondered and wanted to get out the history of Mr Caver which has never been told in depth. This cat wrote one hell of a screen play! We did a couple of scenes of ”A Christmas Carol” in the prison chapel just before they closed down our group and all of the arts program in the entire California prison system.
We did two performances and I got to use my roaring lion voice as Marley the Ghost and Scrooges buisness partner before his death. The Marley character had done some good speeches in it like Pozzo from my Godot days. The audiences reacted quite well to my unexpected roars. We got standing ovations and well done by all the prisoners with no race triping.
the chapel is really tiny so some people stood in ailes and against the walls. When the scene began I sat in the audience and no one knew I was a part of the play. When my time came I got up and took my position on stage. I eased to the back of the stage area by the put my robe on at the far right hand corner of the stage area.
Scrooge was busy speaking when I bounced on stage. I do my speeches and roar and exit back into the audience. It was so real to have been back on stage again and a part of an acting group where we did a lot of improv-- It had been 12 years I think. I missed how acting set your body free. We did a professional job and Dean made a point of letting us know we are real actors and professional. He ran our group like he would run one in the free world.
All that is gone now and also gone is the inner faith program show we had once a year with all the yards -- the separate facilities came together in ”B” visiting room. I am on ”A” yard and there are five yards ”A” through ”E” and that was the only time we had contact with the other yards. We did the shows in April. There would be people from the streets from a progressive church and would sing along with the singers and musicians from prison. Our acting troupe did skids. But I decided to read poems each time. There would be bands and singers from each yard and native americans did there drums, dances and songs.
The festival lasted from around 9:00 AM til 3:30 PM. All of the religous groups were there as well as people who did not have a religion or were humanist and people who made up their own electic religions as they go along in life. The whole thing was a freeing experience but that program’s gone too.
I am going to start up the writing class again and there are a couple of more serious cats interested who I meet with already as a discussion group of world events. Both seem to be self motivated. But think of writing more as a hobby instead of a life thing and a job. they don’t realize yet that writing life is hard work. Recognition can take a long time and is not like instant rice.
And if every piece you write you think is a master piece so you tuck it away and never send anything out thinking that someone will steal your work. I must make them realize you must expose your work to others for growth. Yet Micheal Mann stole one of my poems and put it in his movie ”Ali”. But that particular poem has been in the world for over a decade.
One cat is a rapper and I heard him rap before and it is cool. The other cat is a talker and supposedly have some things written. I have advised them both to send some work out -- to take chance. I have given them addresses to send stuff.
I’ll start the new writing group this weekend. Outside and I know Judith and my new Eliu a young brother out of New York and a part of the VOICES UNBROKEN will be happy about that.
A writing group on the yard and just have to find a place to block out the usual distractions of a prison yard.
WRITING GROUP
Started my new writing class and we met last sunday, no saturday and we made up a few rules and did a writing lesson.
Rule one: be on time.
Rule two: no sand buggers in group
Rule three: send out work every two weeks
Rule four: bring all your tools - note book and pen for writing.
We read some poetry and did a free writing assignment. We wnt over two poem a guy wrote and also read what we had written in the writing excercise. Hope they will rewrite the poems from the excercises.
BIRD STUFF
The Ravens that I mistook for crows looks like finally after months of light pole hopping nest building -- battling the state to rebuild their nest. The Ravens have moved on and some times I see them flying high but not coking down to reestablish their new home. I do think they are still in the area somewhere. Where I cannot see where the new nest is. But I don’t see the pair flying in circles around the four light poles anymore at a frantic pace trying to build nests on all four poles or were the Ravens just pretending to build nests on all four poles just to give the warders work?
The starkings, sparrows have been bringing their abies to teh different feeding spots. But I have seen no cow birds or black bird babies yet.
Yeah, the ravens have stopped battling the state -- the prison for the top of a light pole.
It is a trip the baby sparrows first days at the feeding grounds -- they beg from their moms or dads until they notice the big chunks of bread and then in a frenzy bitting off more then they can eat or fly away with.
sometimes their parents bring then young birds to the feeding place and fly off to watch form a far. the young sparrows be eating so and moving so fast sometimes they choke some. No serious choking though. Other times they are so busy eating--their eyes don’t focus on me standing a couple of feet away. there should be black bird and cow bird babies coming by next.
CLOSING THOUGHTS
Remember we must reach out and love without borders and create without borders and keep the Realness flowing without borders. Still I am open to ideas and topics to write about. May joy and realness blossom in your souls like untouched forest. May the light and love of a billion butterflies float in your hearts.
Keep glowing and growing!
Stay Real and walking in your own shoes -- Peace, love and hugs to you! Keep the realness thoughts vibes and feeling and healing flowing!
Peace G. Rules.
