Author Archives: gdill52

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For Every Light, A Season

For every state,
property, inside or out,
every unchanging constant,
a hint of hopeful restating,
healthier transitioning, outside and in,
correlation communicating constant change.

For every constant changing (x) variable
a hint of timelessness,
resilient eternity,
dynamic (y) rediscovering.

For every open touch function,
potential for deeper resonant feeling flow.

For every win/lose courageous risk,
potential win/win curious co-opportunity.

For every new sound,
a chance for wider hearing
with new ears.

For every leftbrain either/or thought,
a rightmind emotive hint
toward both/and polyphonic ease
of warmth with light, co-resident.

For every voice of God,
a hint of warm wet Goddess.

For every co-present Gaia,
a hint of constant seasonal change.

For every negative anxiety,
a hinting glint for positive anticipation.

For every secular psychological experience,
potential ecologically sacred relationship,
complexly interdependent.

For every historical process,
potential for multiculturing progress.

For every synergetic procedure,
a chance for integrity’s deep and widening potential.

For every warm-lit eco-balancing life,
a hint of cold-dark ego-supremacy death.

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Wealthy Communion

Our anti-racism, pro-polyculturing health
anti-egopatriarchy, pro-ecofeminist wealth
anti-homophobic, pro-trans-regenerative
anti-injustice Team, pro-restoring peace Organizers

Meet inside a viciously anti-outdoor
windowless
airless
music-less
museless
left-brain oppressively dominant room,
climate,
atmosphere,
attitude of ungratitude.

Two women I passionately admire,
would warmly accompany within any outdoor sacred space,
are doing their best to tolerate each win/lose Other
rather than actively extending curiosity
with each win/win AnOther potential integrity,

Noticing a difference between negative anticipatory weapons
and positively honing each Other’s communication tools
for win/win processing,
progressing solidarity that does not quickly
or easily,
comfortably, much less smugly,
dispassionately, or even ego-satisfactorily at peace
by inviting a short-term truce,
settling for continuing a win/lose communication walled history,
quick to celebrate remaining obvious win’wins
yet blind to risks of win/lose miscommunication
predicting long-term climate trends
of lose/lose chronically anxious anti-communion
dis-communication,
cognitive/affective
(ineffective for multicultural resonance)
dissonance.

I am not clear what to do,
how to intervene
to invite win/win reconsideration
without bombing our planning process,
and risking the mistrust of both strong and skilled women.

I’m new to this anti-racism/pro-multiculturing
sociological/ecological
co-relational inner/outer climate Team
for healing anthropological/ethological history,
for unraveling monoculturing excesses of humans
and weeds,
predators
unwilling to recognize balancing co-presence of prey,
secular thinkers
advancing sacred interdependent feelings.

It’s my first time meeting with,
listening to,
speaking with two of the five of us,
neither of which were the two
in a lose/lose chronic trend of trust
and positive communication
failure.

Yet I am also concerned
about our viability to engage our purpose statement:
“To end racism.”
Which feels like more than a quick and small win/win stretch
of even my most active no-longer-tolerating win/lose detente
imagination.

How will we immerse ourselves,
and help even just our local communities
compassionately and sustainably engage each other
in robust multiculturally trusting our mutual curiosities
across traditional monocultural communication divides,
long multigenerational histories of weakened communication loops,
lack of healthy ongoing inclusive relationships?
If two of our most skilled listeners,
compassionate speakers,
are not actively curious
about how we do
and do not
matter to each other
yet,
how we do
and do not
yet passionately trust
in each Other’s warmest win/win regard.

Perhaps if we had formed an outdoor planning circle
we might have noticed beauty communicated by egoless lilies
sharing a meadow,
anticipating resonance
and anxious warnings
of birdsong basking in peaceful warm sun
as primal message of co-attachment
accompaniment within,
between
among all restoring peace
as communal justice EarthTribes.

Perhaps we might have remembered forest intelligence;
A tree’s ecological root system,
developed to harvest and implant trusted nutrients,
And a tree’s theological sun-praising branch and leaf systems
developed to feed
and fuel
future regenerations of life,

Like right-brain old-rooted both/and discernment
to avoid our left-brain dominant either/or secular/sacred
outside/inside mistrusts
that Earth’s ecological nutrition communication
and theological sacred power relationships
could be anything more or less
than secular/sacred
outside/inside
cooperative win/win articulation
resonantly outside Earthed,
birthed inside through resiliently radiant light
co-passionately re-fueling
processing
mutually maturing
enriching courageous multicultural curiosity,
inside health
as intoned multicultural wealth outside;

Outdoors
as seasonally rhythmed indoors.

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Swing Low Sweet Chariot

One way
I know this afrocentric music,
rather than a eurocentric mere performance piece,
is longing for
a sweet and swinging chariot,
rather than a messiah white and male.

I know
this is a cooperative-felt spirit,
and not so much a competition,
because of how
word choices and round rhythms
combine to pitch longing free safe home.

A freestyle journey
to a rich robust and polycultured freedom
of tribes long living
loving Earth’s peace paradise.

A paradise
western civilization
has not sung or danced,
out loudly joyed about
for far too long
without a warm cooperative song

Swinging low and high
in sweetly waving gold
ruled and ratioed
traveler’s chariot,

Coming and going
racing forth and back
to carry us
in and out of home

To freedom’s too long lost,
stolen, kidnapped
while we were dreaming,
singing and dancing with another day
dreaming nights of disembodied free,

Anxiously anticipating,
weary
and yet warmly welcoming.

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Inclusive Epiphany

Your euphony
sounds like my epiphany
he explicitly noted.

Your polypathic resilience
feels like my polyphonic resonance
she compassionately warmed and comforted,
nurtured and nutritioned.

Your theologically divine relationships,
progressions through historical multicultural experience
think and feel my ecologically natural communions,
processions through polyculturing anticipations,
s/he silently sang,
imaginatively danced,

Not for future performance,
but from past inclusive participations,
investments,
compassionate regenerations,
dispassionate degenerations,
passionate incinerations,

Euphonic epiphanies.

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Sins of Our Fathers

In hindsight
I suspect my dad silently hoped,
secretly conceived,
vicariously needed his dream
I would become a multi-talented musician.

He said, No.
behind my mother’s gentle apron
strings of soft-voiced disappointment,
but also hidden within unspoken fear
of Catholic influence
when I was invited to join
The Vienna Boy’s Choir.

I was too young.
I would be missed–the farm was an absorbing enterprise.
I wasn’t ready.
They weren’t ready, yet,
to let go.

But, then offers of guitar
and piano
and trombone lessons,
and choir
and worship music leader
soon followed,
as if from straight white watered
washed
and lied patriots
blessed by prize-giving patriarchs
who listened barely long enough
to hear I was marketably good
as an entertainer,
a professional,
not just another deep soul singer
or deeply soiled male dancer.

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Safe Space

Am I safe now?
Are we safe?

Is it safe to listen here?
To speak of over there?

Is Earth safe to sing?
Safe to dance with?
Safe for new birth?
To spin past romance?

Does life matter
if no one’s noticing?
Remembering?
If no one’s vocation
is to sacredly listen?
while all creation refills silent gaps.

Are we safe now?
Reborn silent angels,
angels of light,
pushing back this dark night.

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Invitations Are Out

The invitations are already out
for our local community dialogue
without need to shout or pout
about another straight white male monologue.

In fact,
as fiction,
we have taken a nearly unprecedented step
of inviting straight white males
over the maturing age of thirty
to show up in droves
to listen,
and not to speak.

Yes,
you have heard this invitation clearly
discriminating not against Business As Usual
but for Busyness as Listening.

Once we have our multicultural plan in place
for this local health racing space,
we may invite our silent witnesses
to share with us what they
and we, perhaps,
have learned
about wisdom voices of non-elites
fully empowered
while elite over-voiced microphones
remain reverently on mute.

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The Powder-Free Vinyl Exam Glove

It occasionally occurs to me,

as I distractedly remove my right dominant
Powder-Free Vinyl Exam Glove,
after yet another young adult diaper change,

Perhaps getting lovingly laid
by a lifetime committed
caring and passionately consenting peer
filled with warm compassion,
active hope for tomorrow
would not be the worst conjoining thing
that could happen to neuro-alternatively-challenged intelligent beings
childishly preferring win/win cooperative outcomes
derived from compassionate climaxing thought-feelings together
while experiencing full-sensory resonant mental health.

Then again,
I suppose the same
powder-free examervation might apply
to economic and political narcissists,
and patriarchal double-binary
co-disassociative left v right hemispheres
runaway debating between lonely older aescetics
ordained to fulfill male dominant sublimation
through yin-recessive win/win co-passion’s ostracization,
diminution,
fragmentation,
cognitive-affective dissonance.

And then I wonder
how long will it take
to re-sacralize humane non-elite poop
as richly robust future compost
best for black gold richly embedded fertility,
as I race and gender and age
to throw out plastic scat bags,
filled with cotton and plastic diapers
and under/overpads,
and right dominant
Powder-Free Vinyl Exam Gloves.

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Invoking Unfinished GodEssences

My autonomous ego’s life
feels unfinishable,
unthinkably mortal in future disconnection;
an unfinished compassion life,
unfinishable love,
an unpolished divine icon
of Earth’s self-promulgating creation,
recreation
becoming more articulately interdependent folks,
intersectional resacralizing populations,
self and other co-empowering creolization processors,
ego/eco-transubstantiating
north-western left hemisphere’s historic win/lose secularization.

Meanwhile,
our Gaian EarthMothers,
south past and eastern-future angelically co-present
Great Transition Troubadours
forever deepening sacred icons,
intersectional emissaries,
polypathic and polyphonic,
sacred MotherEarth becoming metaphorically global webbed,
rewoven away from left-hemisphere fashioned dualisms
of secularizing sacred both/and unity,
humanizing divine communion,
every day sanctuaried love-life,

Where pathological egocentric death
reconnects with healthy long-term compassionate communication
co-empathic communal deep listening
to learn nondualistic grief/gratitude re-education trends
bilaterally co-arising
unfinished articulation
still dynamically emanating
from unfinishable life
within Mother/Father EarthTribal His/HerStory.

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My Body

You invited me to bring
some object of great regard,
And so I present My Body.

A marvelous sensory object
perfect in so many feeling ways
I dare not count
or shout
or flout it through my days.

Unlike my home
where some rooms I like
just as and where they are
and others could be larger
or a wee bit smaller,
and further back or front,
less up and more down
to better accommodate this perfectly aging body,

All my inside parts are perfectly placed,
even my mealtime’s exhaustive plumbing space,
I’ve grown systemically proportioned,
and synergetic’ly refunctioned,
integrally ecologized with marvelous winning grace
and apparent co-relational ease of pace,
although dis-ease does threaten inside grief
as outside gratitude
to leave room for younger climate minds;
Who healthy best remember
this cherished
chiseled
richly robust EarthBody.

My garden would be magnificent
if as organically functioned
as my organs
and my digits
and my senses of magical sight
and sound
and tasty touch and feeling
good wealth object-ives for lunch this day.

I mention house and garden
because these objects, too,
I cherish
and yet they feel less sacred,
worthy of awe and wonder from you
than this body
which I usually cover up,
especially when going out for lunch,
unless you would rather that I not?

Perhaps you would prefer
I had brought what’s left of my right mind,
to more objectively share,
critically compare;
Rather than leave this gloriously embodied self
wide open
for your most remarkably startled glare,

Which was my original nutritional intent, you see
before you asked me,
To bring a specific icon,
my most noble ancient object
worthy of our admiring subjective stare.

And now in closing
I must confess
this body’s shy performance
finds life easier to bear
by imagining your well-seated bodies
in nothing less or more than underwear.

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