To White
Cockatoos, Black
Cockatoos must
seem the stuff
of nightmares.
To Black Cockatoos,
White Cockatoos
must seem the
ghosts of ancestors.
Tag: evolution
Why did the dinosaur cross the road?
Sixty
million
years ago,
the dinosaurs
had a saying –
“as rare as a
toothless hen.”
Practice makes perfect
Being forgotten,
while you are still in
land of the living,
prepares you for
being forgotten,
after you are long gone.
Gauntlet
I challenged
received wisdom,
but those who
had received that
wisdom did not
accept my challenge,
said that the wisdom
was unchallengeable,
and therefore the
challenge was wrong.
Never mind, soon I will
be gone, and then you
can say “what challenge?”
Groupies
There are people
who get all their
ideas from the
unsupported
opinions of
others; have faith
in some religion;
vote fascists into
power; love guns;
don’t vaccinate
children; and hate
women.
Generally these
categories
overlap.
Age less
Reading the
life stories of
the famous
achievers of
the past and
present, you
reach a point
where they broke
through, became
recognised,
touched by
genius, ranked
among the
immortals of
literature, or
science, or
film, or art.
But my
breakthrough
moments
were papered
over, muffled,
erased from the
historic
photographs.
So I remain
disappointed
and unknown,
and largely
anonymous.
Cousins
I love it that I,
distant descendant
of a shrew,
can hold,
gently between my hands,
a chicken,
distant descendant
of a dinosaur.
Need more time
Two Spinebills
chasing each
other through
the Salvia flowers,
trying to evolve
into Australian
hummingbirds
I breathe, therefore I am
I am
breathing in,
breathing out,
like all the other
living creatures
sharing this planet
and this air.
But more,
that air has been
shared by all the creatures
who ever lived,
been refreshed by
all the plants
that ever grew,
since the beginning
of Earth time.
Each new breath
combines all the
old breaths of creatures,
and people, long gone.
Each breath is a kind
of immortality,
existing long after
each of us has
taken our last breath,
passed on to each of
us taking our
first breath
No room in the neurones
He who is
tired of learning
has been doing
it for seventy
three years and
needs to rest
