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On OrganicGreen Memes

Enthymeme:
A syllogism or other argument,
logical and ecological and theological,
in which a relational premise
or the rationally robust conclusion
is [0] unexpressed.

All truth is healthy
All beauty is truth
Therefore, All Beauty is [truly] Healthy

All trust grows democracy
All active distrust fuels elitist supremacy
Therefore, All isolating distrust smothers democracy

Where truth and trust remain confluently enthymematic
effluent
fertile
regenerative
resonant,
and resiliently so.

Effluent intuitive memory,
enthymematic,
in which one remedial subject
follows in-between the co-acclimating
minor center of the Other side’s ZeroZone Earth purpose
for passionately nurturing comfort or punishment,
for regenerating organic balance or imbalance,
for healing and moving ego’s muted heart and voice
eco-therapeutically forward

Beauty speaking ecstasy
Green as leaves and grass
absorbing hues of blue and red
as ecofeminist Black lives
ultra-nonvioletly refuse to splatter
mere punishing avoidance
of healthy cultural climate goals,

Enthymematic rainbow allies
for restoring cooperative democratic responsibilities,

Enthymematic in-between tipping points
actively seeking feeling/thinking reparation opportunities
to move all EarthTribe’s 3/5ths human theocracy
to 4/4 RealTime Democracy
in balancing keys of C
for CommonSense
YinSquared = Yang BigBang enlightenment,
bicameral secular freedom
for green peace sacred conservation
of almost Here with Now
enthymematic prememories
without closed
anti-systemic
dead reduced conclusions

Primal MuseSoul syllogisms,
MajorLeft and MinorRight
not not co-relationally balancing
Healthy WuWei EnthyMemes.

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Democratic Poverty

I was listening to NPR yesterday
on my way to small green group ministries,
when I heard post-millennial Republicans
favor apartheid
while the contemporary urban-green Democrat
favors laziness.

I don’t know if this includes intellectual laziness,
lack of rigor,
and laziness about ecotherapeutic health,
but in either case,
this conflicts with my own experience,
regarding Democrats and lack of healthy motivation
but also of Republicans I actually know,
except perhaps my brother
and a Trump worshiping neighbor,
regarding apartheid as a fundamental religious constitutional right
to Christian evangelical colonizing supremacy
over all 3/5th former slaves
and other less fortunate criminals.

If Democrats are guilty of lazy love for restoring Earth’s
healthy subclimates,
both yin-side
and yang-outdoor voiced,
then what do we call Republican guilt
responsibility
lack of moral authority
to stop blowing each other
and trees
and Earth-habitat up,
both secular nature-systems
and sacred ZeroZone souls
of divine Matriarchal Grace.

When I arrived
to listen
and share non-verbal peaceful space
with my small green group alliance,
we sang and danced and spoke of connections
through active listening
rather than lazy lack of sufficient compassion
with suffering
and wealth of correlational enchantment
courageous coherence,
curious collusion,
collateral for healthy future prospects.

Then we each went home
in our own four directions
until we close our loops together
again next New Moon morning.

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How Do We Say God?

How do we say God,
and why does it matter?
If whatever I do say
both is and is not good.

What is sufficient
to define a Creator?
The Sufis remind us
we face God each way.

How do we fix this
divine restoration?
To put back together
what anger tears apart.

Why do we want peace
and not just between terrors?
If God is our Alpha
then hate’s not Omega.

Why do we punish?
Our great hurts need healing.
How are we judging
those we have not yet faced?

How do we see God,
and why could this matter?
If health’s stretched out planning
builds more arms creating splatter.

If God is for health care,
and how could S/HE not be?
Then Love can’t be measured
in automated artillery.

Where is our rich soil
and how have we tilled it?
Or have we over-drilled it
for more blood and gore?

Why do we say God
and how does it matter?
For restoring Christ’s graced peace
sacred seeds grow together.

 

 

These lyrics more or less work with “Foregiveness”, by Susan Werner, on her The Gospel Truth CD.

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Broken Planting Oaken Tree

We have tree traditions,
still accessible in diverse backward
and forward
reforesting cultures,
of planting a commemorative tree
when a great and portentous series of loving events
comes to its untimely rest.

Recently
my middle son’s lifetime friend
decided it was time to travel with the starlight
and so he left us heartbroken,
trying to be happy for him,
and sad without him,
to become OK with his decision
that he had uncovered enough sadness
despair
depression.
His final vote was cast
and no one else was invited
to participate in his great transitional selection.

So, my son and I
will go into our messy forest
also known as the back lot,
where former residents have dumped asphalt roofing shingles,
and buried an entire breaking down garage.

If we were to dig deeper than necessary
we would probably find other mislaid treasures.
Shattered glass bottles and hearts
and open rusted food and toxic feeling cans,
and plastic of all dismembering colors
and ugly unshapely shards of angst,
but this day
we will dig only as deep as we must.

We will first visit a handful of oak babies
sprouting up under bushes in the side yard
and among poison ivy on the north side
so my son can choose which of these
will become Greg’s oak tree of new life
not beyond
yet still after suicidal death.

We will prepare this sapling’s new home,
digging a deep and wide welcoming hole
among back lot brambles of our thoughts and feelings,
then clear away potential choking vines and voices
now covering a clearing
surrounding trees have left
just right enough for a growing Greg
Large shade tree
to hug my son’s grandchildren,
and their Greg the OakTree loving children.

Then we will uproot our chosen new life tree
with reverence
and baptize her future MotherTree roots
of sacred fertility,
and as we sprinkle holy compost
to shade her vulnerable transparency to shaded light,
we will sing our allegiance to gratitude
for each life created through Father Sun,
nourished with Mother Earth,
sadly smiled with sacred GrandMother Moon,
sprinkling sounds of thanks
for each day
of each life
this oak tree,
as Greg,
will continue bringing us.

We will read and look and listen as Jesus taught
it is ungrateful sacrilege to remain angry
about not having received more grace
than we could have earned with more generosity of time,
when we could choose instead
to give thanks for each day shared with us
doing the best we can,
to give care as we would continue to receive.

Our love for Greg
grows through this oak tree’s future shade,
and west wind protection
for all our future days of thanksgiving
and suffering lost loss,
security for our children’s
healthy and happier children
knowing
remembering
feeling
sensing
this canopy grown Greg
still choosing flight
with starlight nights.

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All Dancers Matter

Those who pray by marching
can pray alone
in endless competitions.

Those who pray while dancing
can only pray together
for timeless cooperations.

Hate and fear can only angry march
side by competing side
in uniformity of lock-step supremacy.

But love and compassion
can also truth and beauty dance
and sing
in full hope octaves
of multicolored harmony.

Resonant solidarity of ballrooms
and street performers
singing and chanting and drumming
good news gospel resonance
rather than bad news mono-marching hate.

We can sing and dance cooperatively
to angry patriarchal elitist marchers
more effectively than merely speak in not-kind shout,
and across,
and back and forth,
flow anthems up and out of all inclusive love songs.

This singing dance can,
with enough harmonic polycultured voices,
become sustained ego-happy filibusters
through marching hate,
marathons of love
proactively singing and dancing
alongside those marching through dualdark fear and anger,
inviting them to rejoin
our dancing gospel choir.

For every hate-mongering military march,
we have thousands of love-mentoring lyrics,
and,
therefore,
potential dancing lyricists.

Anger and marching paranoia are mutually competitive
double-binding allies,
as are love song and grace of dance mutually harmonic.

We can choose to march and shout ourselves apart,
but we would more democratically,
and gracefully,
prefer to dance and sing our cooperative ways together.

Those who pray while dancing
can only pray together
for timeless cooperations.

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Sweet Revenge

Greatest revenge
perhaps to become even.

Becoming even
to love what and whom Earth has given
and taken,
will give and take,
until we are each even.

Only wonder and no worries
about which gender you are and are not
or prefer to verge and submerge with and without
or even if you prefer them all
evenly
eventually.

Warmest wise investment
perhaps love within and between such events.

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In Season And Out

In and around Auschwitz
Barbed wire still weeps
through too long denied rain.

In and around Annihilation
Denied climates fast creep
toward pathology’s pain.

Through surrounding Anger
Charged hate denies sleep
for those who must explain.

In tyrannic Acid
Barbed boundaries sweep
out lies of monstrous strain.

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