The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the Ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
in one spirit meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine?–

See the mountains kiss high Heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me?

Der Morgen (“Morning”, 1808), oil on canvas by Philipp Otto Runge

The post Love’s Philosophy by Percy Shelley appeared first on EcoHustler.

Directed by
Guilherme Marcondes

Inspired by:

Tyger

By William Blake

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

1794

The post Greening São Paulo – Tyger Style. appeared first on EcoHustler.

Can less be more, can more be less?
Well, yes and no, and no and yes
Well, more or less…

More bikes, fewer cars
Less haze, more stars

Less haste, more time
Less reason, more rhyme

More time, less stress
Fewer miles, more fresh (vegetables)

Fewer car parks, more acres of available urban soil
More farmers’ markets, less produce effectively marinated in crude oil

Less colouring, more taste
More mashing, less waste

Fewer couch potatoes, more spring greens
Fewer tired tomatoes, more runner beans

More stillness, less inertia
Less illness, more Echinacea

More community, less isolation
Less just sitting there, more participation!

More wells (not oil ones, obviously), fewer ills
Fewer clean fingernails, more skills

More co-operation, less compliancy
Less complacency, more self-reliancy

Less competition, more collaboration
Less passive listening, more participation!

Less attention defic…, more concentration
Less passive listening, more participation!

(Less repetition)

Less of a warm globe, more a chilly’un
More of a wise world, at least 34 fewer parts of C02 per million

Less stress-related cardio-vascular and pulmonary failure
More nurturing quality time in the company of a favourite clematis or dahlia

More craftsmanship, less built-in obsolescence
More political maturity, less apparently-consequence-free extended adolescence

More believed-to-be-beautiful, known-to-be-useful things
Less cheap, pointless, petroleum-steeped stuff

So Yes, less is more – and enough’s enough…

Photo by Mark Feenstra for Not So Fast and In Pursuit of More

The post Less is More by Matt Harvey appeared first on EcoHustler.

Bonaparte Before the Sphinx by Jean-Léon Gérôme (1867-1868)

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away”.

Elihu Vedder's The Questioner of the Sphinx (1863)

Check out: Collapsing Vanity

The post Ozymandias by Percy Shelley appeared first on EcoHustler.

Christmas uppercut,

Double choc chip glut,

Big belly pocket empty never ending spend,

Bethlehemeriod is back again to attack the trend,

Caught in the false cuddle of a tinsel trap,

Awash with plastic crap,

That will never end,

Disposable god cannot fit in the bin,

Landfills full to overflowing from the brim,

Mesmerised by the painted eyes of a manikin,

Beckoning you in again with a superficial grin,

Pringle tubes pop nonstop like the clock ticks,

Neon sale cost cut price drop tricks,

Salstis long lost mechanism sick,

What’s this stocking stuffed with? Stultifying shit,

Locking rubbish treasure pleasure in a shopping bag,

Made to measure festive fabrication leisure grab,

Aim of attainment made to make you glad,

Material appeal steal still make you sad,

My objection to this western stress obsession,

Seeks to be a lesson,

That the flotsam and jetsam of this season is a reason,

For rethinking the mistaken presents that belies our pleasing,

Sneezing amidst ripped wrapping paper-

That’s ceased its seasonal teasing,

Reaching for a Kleenex blatantly bereaving,

The present that you didn’t get,

From fatefully forgetting to just celebrate through making,

With your own mind your own kind of cake-

With personalised icing,

Buying just like taking is not a kind of trying,

And if trying is dying we won’t find ourselves flying,

Surely sky high sweet spot is where would spend a lot-

Of our time in, un-blind, away from earthly rot,

Where sunshine beats hot on angelic wings,

Away from earthbound robots wired for buying things,

Imagination cultivation must recast us kings,

So to say it again,

Bethlehemeriod is back to attack the tragic trend,

With a Christmas uppercut to that double pudding chin,

And take your fake Santa’s sack back that’s headed for the bin,

My message is this precious present that resides within,

My precious message is this present that resides within.

***

Also check: Merry Apocalypse

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