The System the Hen and the Grower

How doth the little birdy crow
"Free me, it is to small"
How doth the petty criminal plea
"My crime is none at all!"

And twice they met in dream-like set
To parle through the fence
And thus it seemed the grower mean
Though the hen she t'was not tense

And so he said...

"I'm sorry chicky, your one too many
To the abattoir one and all!
The real run, is in having fun
Growing green through out the fall"

To this she did reply...

"Please kind sir don't sentence me
The farm land's long and tall
There is much land for our marry band
Remember we're all fish in the sea"

The next night came with much remorse
To the young man in his cell
"I can't carry on to the next dawn
This place to small is my hell"

Those little eyes
They looked back
So beedy and black
So beedy and black

Weary and Teary
With no smugness they thought and replied.....


"My brother my son
You didn't realize we're one
Neither do they,
I can tell"

And she paused, then spoke....

"For our cage is to small
And none was our crime
And they pitted you against me
But my brother my son you now know we are one
It's up to you to up hold us all"

With new hope she awoke and spoke this with conviction

"It's to late for me, to enter my plea
I have a date with Mr Kentucky
But my brother, my son, you and I we are one
Go fight the good fight
You are lucky

The light fell on the man in the cell as morning came.

The man in the cage
Woke up filled with rage
"How dare they commit such a crime!"

Then he curled on his side
And he cried, and he cried
As he realized he had 7 to 20

And the pain that followed
Was tiptoe foot prints scattered across these bones
My breath both a cage and an embrace.

An epidermal 911
And the black that ran,
As water in the night

Two worlds lapse between the beats
The in, the out
Exsistance

The silence between two heartbeats embraces the whole universe.
The world zero point merges and turns
Between two heart beats

Our vision, our space, our double helix
Umbra, antumbra, penumbra,

meus pectus pectoris no a locus vobis intus is

And when the day is at an end
Will you still be my friend
And your fading fast
Memories will never last
Because time bends and changes
To the direction we are moving

The wood block knows
Round to round and square to square
The rings that were there
Can match no other
That's how it grows

So tomorrow I'll keep moving on
Home is where the heart is
The heart lies in the chest
The house is comprised of one body

Meus pectus pectoris no a locus vobis intus is
Operor non licentia is cassus

How Culture Shapes Nature

How Culture Shapes Nature

Culture shapes nature by first defining what is or is not nature, and secondly how we choose to physically creates those spaces that we deem to be nature or those areas we deem not nature. As humans move in to the urban centers, nature becomes out there and removed, while we remain inside cities with culture. Commodification leads to importation, land degradation and allows physical separation from subsistence work and its surrounding environment. How we define nature becomes nature, the definition is expanding and changing with the perception of needing nature or the concept of being able to live apart from it. We create nature physically as much as we do mentally. Creating natural spaces such as parks, inner city and national, the landscapes we see in art works, old run down lots and the ideal settings for scavenging animals such as raccoons, pigeons and strays are all human created forms of nature. How we classify these places and areas become our cultural understanding of what nature is composed of.

The notion of what nature is has been constantly shifting in the 21^st century due to the belief that we as humans can separate ourselves from nature and that it is possible to live entirely outside and without it. Our food comes from every corner of the globe, fresh fruit and vegetables are available year round even when the earth is too frozen to grow. Building materials are available at our fingertips and we never have to grow the cotton that our clothes are made from. How could one imagine that we are removed from nature, or are capable of living outside of it? We are fully immersed within it as well as constantly changing it. In cities, we create nature by creating natural spaces inside and outside our home. Within the private sphere people, have yards with gardens, flowers, trees, as well as pets and houseplants. In the public there are trees kept anchored in the sidewalks, city parks and numerous types of birds and rodents. UVIC in itself is an example with an unusual amount of rabbits, gardens and the occasional deer. These areas did not form themselves, they were molded by culture, what was deemed nature, and what we thought would appeal to our idea of natural beauty.

We separate and create what is nature from what is not in our minds, this has gone askew in our society, because we are selective and unrealistic we ignore what could be classified as nature. Perhaps not picturesque, but nature all the same. When we look at paintings by the famous group of seven we can see rugged landscapes of mountains forests and oceans; but what we do not see are logging camps, oil drills, construction sites or even people for that manner. Our society has separated humans and their effects on the earth from what we imagine nature to be, untouched wilderness. Few people it seems walk into a dilapidated park that is the size of one small city lot, that is filled with pigeons and squirrels, one person walking their dog, and a smoking pit for teenagers on their lunch break among the 5 trees that reside in the whole park, and go “Wow!!! Isn’t this nature great!” Most would not be quick to agree that this is the definition of nature. Yet it still is, it is in its urban setting which was created by the culture of a city. Because urbanites can claim that this park example is not nature, nature must be out there outside the city.

This is where you have environmentalists come in; they are groups of people who care about the environment, and try to protect spaces we have deemed nature. They have an essential role in the final say of what is or is not nature as they are usually the ones who protect or help to rebuild natural spaces. Those who act to preserve natural local habitat through private actions are conservationist, those who are part of groups and work in the public, civic or political sphere are activists and those who act though demonstration and direct action are radicals. There are also those who care about the environment but take no action these people are a large part of the collective thinkers who define what nature is. Those who act at the level of policymaking get into political ecology. In the case of tree shade in Pakistan Indigenous farmers become not only environmentalists, but also activists and radicals, they are also the group of people who commodify a cultural concept of a part of nature. The case of tree shade serves as an example of how culture works to shape nature at every level.

Farmers in Pakistan believe that the shade of trees has an effect on the growing of their crops. The shade can have many useful characteristics and thus is talked about as a solid thing. The government is in dispute whether the farmers care about trees and the government wants to cut their trees. At the same time, the farmers commodify the shade as a thing they need and that should be managed and can be controlled. They also take on the role of environmentalists by acting as radicals and activists' trying to change the policies of what is culturally deemed important as nature and necessary for subsistence.

Nature is defined, classified and shaped by people, depending on their class, background and position their view and role in shaping the collective ideas of what nature is will be different. As in the case of shade, the farmers play many roles, just as city bureaucrats and land developers do within cities. As for our western culture, we have to look within urban areas for nature that may escape through a crack in a definition, as the cities are concrete jungles filled with life. Nature is not out there as in the famous group of seven paintings, after all most of those were painted right next to logging camps.

Communion with Silence

I closed the door on noise
Right on its toes before it could take another step
Silence helped me

I walk through, in, and with silence
Held in revere my mind rests
The thoughts held still
Some small child

In the noise I can't hear
Not you, nor anything else
I yell trying to communicate
Noise speaks many languages at ones
Its garbled into a million words lost

I hold my thoughts in communion
I hold them to myself and there they lie
Not good, nor bad
In the silence that reaches the roof

fly swim dig

How do you speak without actions
Actions without speech
How to get so trapped within the mind
I prefer it here
Not because it's safe and warm
But because I can change
I guess it shows.

The me you know
The one I know are
Two different
One in the same
They lead separate
Lives
Loves
Interests
Wants
Then they switch places and want the same.

Inside here there are no boundaries
I change constantly and thats okay
It's great even
Makes it more interesting
I hover orbit but I'm not trying to hold on
I'm fine where I am

Sometimes, outside the edges are held on to
They tear, rebuild
I am forced to take shape
Conform to a shape that I momentarily choose
That is impossible
A shell made for the wrong shape
The next moment passed
The shell breaks
I hatch
The world cold, I want back in
But I am out and now I must fly
Though I want to swim
I am now out and must live and fly not swim
Perhaps tomorrow I'll want to fly, or dig