Tag Archives: age

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Why I Am Here

At the Planet Gym
embodying my best business
when suddenly I wonder

Why am I here?
repeats
and repeats
in my wandering ear

And what magic
might appear

Isn’t that queer?
Not WHY am I here
with these Straight People

because this overpopulated question
may obscure other
quieter
ambidextrously resourceful directions
less shaded by fear
of robust diversity

I suppose
But, what can I hear
about why am I here?
and not over There
on the Other side

What two-sided relationships
would I need
to become fully here today?
and all seasons yet to arrive
in this sacred home of People
Plants
and PlanetEarth

With gratitude,
I suppose…
but, Why am I here
again?

Cannot mean
only those purposes and means
asso-sedated with my home address
and sometimes needy
sometimes hostile
[downright spankin mean]
neighbors

More creature comforts,
certainly
AND we search for sacred meaning
inside
more intimate

Spiritual enlightenment
perhaps shyer,
timid
early childhood Loser-Trauma

Drama messages
win/lose valuable

Vulnerable communications
with imperfect win/win transparent closets

Hiding chronic stress histories
of anxiety
longing for sacred peace,
or even just a secular piece, you know,
now and again

For chronic stress,
anxiety

Longing for peace
or restored ego-resilience,
or at least a restored recliner

Happiness, and a marketable craft
and EarthMother teaching skills

For relearning not sad gladness
in hope,
joy
in anticipation,
gratitude
for opportunities
to co-invest
in always interesting neighbors

In the Planet Gym
mindbodying
our best health business.

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Snoring Wonder

Ageing retainer
losing hearing
and codependent consciousness
in this silent sacred season
snoring snowy wonder

A winterish hibernating memory,
Dreams of globally peaceful slumber
resolving GoldenRules
engaging compassionately personal
political powering plunder
and mortal offending self-righteousness

Getting mine
while I still can

Revisiting now absent win/win sensory Spring
of outdoor lusty,
wildly crusty
sacred wonder
as I snow-bound
OldMan wander.

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Chill Dillen

Are you ready to greet
this new day, Dillen?

To get up off your
couch-chilled feet,
to bring new warm meanings
to life lived without deadly restraint
embraced with sparse complaint
to repurpose all our favored ways
and means for chillin

Are you ready
to give up all ego-fattening strategies
to hardly survive
the WhiteMan’s rage
raving consumer competitions

Are you ready
to gratefully engage
all EarthTribes
cooperatively willin

To take
and make
and rake
and shake
and bake
this day’s new choice cake

not fake
for thrillin

All who meet you feelin
you, our fully engaged
young Black American son,
the only one
Earth brings forth
for this still perfect multicolored day,
chill Dillen.

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Feeling Old and Lost

I noticed just yesterday
while glowering about something else
now already
once again
forgotten…

I seem to have lost my good-sensed humor
along my stumbling
isolating internal say

Toward this red STOP! sign
searching for a different way

To find a new Earth center
for healing active hope,

To sing new scales of joyful
sad sharp focus

Performed more locally
and possibly reformed less reflectively
mesmerized by fame’s monopolistic grope.

This new reselective time
Less silently reserved
Less anxiously depressed
Less repressively suppressed.

Each morning’s dawn warning
to worship at new altars

Renewing robust octaves of communion
encompassing organic green nutrition

To redesign all creatures here below
more positive above
good-humored love
with timeless passions
hilariously sensed together
yet tragically shoved
apart.

If I were not so sweet sixteen
prepared to restart home’s immigration scene
again for my first time,
what would I rechoose to do
becoming compassion’s singing rally
with rainbow hearted allies?

If I were thirty-three,
my age of messianic crossfire
for all to red angry
horrifying see,
what would I choose to resurrect again?

And why would this revoiced
rechoiced healthier community
support potentiating integrity
with more robust good humor
this well-timed passed over
and back around
on sacred wellbeing ground?

If I were twice
my god’s reflective age
revived,
what would we joyously choose
to re-member
as half-life good golden sense
for revolving salvation’s humor?

For this tragic comedy
of tumorous migration
anxiously anticipating
integrity’s full ZeroScores
restoring just right species

All together one predation
praying for exterior relations
more integral summations
than humorless,
silent rumorless
quiet aging absence
of eternal sad-paced mercy,

At least sufficient for noticing,
just yesteryear
while glowering about something else
now already strange sadly queer,
once again forgotten.

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Aging in a Curious Age

As I age in place
into awareness of replaceability
I bow to humbling curiosity,

Whether more anxious
or anticipating,
I remain conflicted

About predicting
a win/win global healthy climate
sustainable outcome

In which my own anthroprivileged species
grows in ecological curiosity
and theological humility

Enough for winning healthy Earth
restoring justice,

A peaceful paradise of curious promise
for resiliently wealthy
multicultural ecofeminists

AND our leftbrain dominant
StraightWhiteMale capital growing fragile
and increasingly suicidal Allies

Or will this Great Green Transition
end and recycle back again
a healthier peace and justice Earth
devoid of inhumane
predative
overpopulated rabid hetero-unsapient pests?

While this winEarth/loseAnthros
heart-stopping vision fails to mention
all the further kinship species
we have already helped exterminate
and will continue to take out with us,

Still
stunned
shunned
I remain quietly hopeful
that a seventh great extinction
might never come to be
before Second Comings

Of Edenic Civility
bereft of straight either/or lined
leftbrain dominant distractions

Extractions
from right interdependent circling
spiraling feeling
lack of historical multicultural traction
for healthy democratic energy
empowering flow
and enlightened nature/spirit MultiSpecies

Worshipping
polyculturing sensory resonant pleasures
of resilient health wealthy climate paradise

Recovering
old aging wonder,
humbling
and still actively curious
how EarthMother healthy ends

And rebegins
re-ligions wealthily ever after
with Yang empowering
Yintegral enlightening balance,

Either both/and way,
humane-divine hybrid consciousness
of
merely sublime natural
sensory aware spirits,

Breaths of incoming
outgoing life
as love
regeneratively prevails.

And yet
I cannot resist some attachment,
as I limp toward my own ego-recentering
ultra-nonviolet
compassioning horizon,

Rooting for this new global age
of Green Cooperative EcoFeminists
already leading our nonviolent communion
toward a resiliently restorative EarthJustice Way,

A curious winning for AnthroTribe
also winning Earth GreenPeace
to health/wealth Thrive.

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RockAway Baby

Rock away baby
in your tree top,
When Earth winds blow
our cradle can’t stop

And all Her Queen’s horses
and all old bald white men
can’t put Her regathered
together again.

Her wounds raise our stories
of struggle and sin,
our strengths are new songs
about old wounds gone wrong.

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Slow Grown Grace

Poetry
like unpartnered,
unteamed,
slow dancing

However rhythmically precise,
concisely devised

Does not dance well
in a highly competitive
youth-oriented
commercial entertainment market

But,
does better
in cooperative venue voices,
disproportionately enthused by ancient women
investing in large-print choices,

Preferring off-line accessibility,
and not too expensive!

More deeply embedded
in soulful
left and right co-empathic
slow grown engagement.

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Visiting the Buddha

We were visited by a baby
yesterday.

It felt good to bow
into her glittery brown eye level,

To speak of whatever came to mind
which was mostly about her truth
and blossoming beauty

Knowing she would not judge
and would listen
patiently
as long as I might care
to continue our song
of aging story.

Her response,
to continue sleeping
or to smile
while feeling
feeding eye to eye
mutual warmth

This is what I remember
wanting most
to speak about,

To remember
on this Memorial Day

Visited not yet by a victim
of war
but by a wise innocent
for peace.

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The Rabbi’s Awesome Mother

She associated awe with unvoiced age.

Her son often enthused
about awesome tech-paced change,
empowering opportunity,
but, for her,
youth is an age for voicing wonder
as elders remember awesome quiet connection
back with memoried Time.

She found elder awe memories,
structures,
originating imprints,
in trees from humble
yet awesome nuts and seeds,
formed back in timeless forests

Where nutritional root systems
meet yang-strong trunks,
boldly growing toward sunlight,
flirting quietly with moonlight’s fertility
starring light shining our way
from how many awesome staring years ago?

Now enlightening her empowered wonder
about this sensory sexiness
of trunks on root systems
so old she can’t quite recall

How could time carve hoary beds
with rivers of resilient water
flowing down Time’s journey
from wondrously young
toward awesome complex landscapes
of connection
re-connection
volition
revolution
solution
resolution
passion
co-passionate secular communication,
sacred communion.

Maybe if she goes on wondrous line
and writes about these awesome Times
they will become both more musically beautiful
and reconstructed true,

More passionately ageing together
with respect for Earth’s revolving
gorgeous flowing wisdom
and joy for multi-sectored
strong true handsome.

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