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What You Take

What we take
without asking first,
thanking second,
what is rightfully our property,
our valuables,
our commodities and loves.

Yet we also take
what we are too ashamed to ask for,
then thank
for receiving selfless hand to open hand,
or hate for selfish lack of yes,
or resent negotiating maybes
or strings attached
further growing far more than your rightful share
of shame.

Shame,
engaging high risk acquisition choices
rather than trusting Earth’s grace,
cooperative evolution of relationships
between those who have
and those who want to live healthier,
without shame and guilt
for addictive needs, attractions,
aversions from others’ shame and guilt offerings,
final intimate NO in face of your hungry appetite
for self-regenerative identity,
less shame,
absence of guilt
for having become who you are,
for not having become
as you more lovingly intended
yet.

When did you start asking first
if I want to make our bed together?
Right after I took your breath away
with I would rather do it myself.
Right before I froze your love
because you don’t do it right.

When we take love without first asking
fertile thanks rebounding back,
we grow shame for guilty needs
squeezing out what healthy love
could otherwise breathe in.

What Ego takes without asking
Eco string attaches
Yang to Yin
Left to Right
to LeftRight EcoConsensousness,
asking Ego’s untimely Death first,
thanking Eco’s revolutionary holonic primal life,
second.

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Politically Correct Wilderness Behaviors

It’s not that I mistrust you,
though sometimes I feel I must distrust
either me or you.

I ambivalently choose both.

So yes, of course, this is about your behaviors
in relationship with mine,
aggressive and impulsive.
Behaviors of addiction
to a child’s malignant sense of humor
and anger as synaptic fear
of loving inalienable powers of freedom
from and to yet further behaviors,
too often aggressive and impulsive,
too seldom shy and demure
as water flowing into deeper gravitas.

Behaviors inspired by Assertiveness Training
on steroids,
mainlining a fix
to fill recent behavioral abstinence,
dreams and fantasies standing in for life,
addiction to action
not counting absent minutes of no behaviors.

Do not remind me
“actions have consequences.”
How is this not a vacuous tautology?
merely repeating response meets stimulus,
nouns regenerate verbs
as subjects pursue objectives.

We do not really need dualistic behaviorists
as much as we crave nondual interpreters of patterns,
feeding those with cooperative intent and, yes, behaviors,
but action, response, as praxis,
walking a cooperative walk
outspeaks talking a competing game of good v. bad behavior.

Hoping for better health next year
while pouring chemicals on our lawns
and down our throats
feels like an ecotherapist observing toxic relationships,
enumerating nutritional transactions,
despising monocultural weedpatch development trends,
counting numbers of deaths v. births through minutes passed,
only to conclude that actions,
like inactions,
have consequences,
and lack thereof.

Behaviors ebb and flow ionic,
nondual bionic,
as communication reiterates iconic truths
of history’s encultured wild addictions
fighting freedoms to develop love,
sometimes more quietly,
freedom from addiction to aggressive impulses
to share this love and fear,
lovely fear,
fearful love,
in life’s conflicted ways,
supported by ecotherapists of active communication
rather than behaviorists of counting
endless predictable cycles
of destimulating response.

It’s not so much I distrust behaviorists as scientists,
though sometimes I mistrust nondual us.

Failure to control global and national mindbody impulses,
resulting in anger-induced responses
and fear-reduced reactions,
is a failure to control climate sustainability
through indulging competitive addictions.
Regeneratively effective healers speak not as mere behaviorists;
co-mentors immerse baptized within this polypath pilgrimage
toward better communicated enlightenment,
sometimes shy and demure,
but always nondual love-management intended,
most certainly always, always kind,
though nature’s kind co-teaching/learning evolution
can feel harsh to swollen Ego’s feet,
walking in habitual circles
toward nowhere good
or true
much less divine.

What good are a child’s safe hands
with no safe mind?
What benefits emerge from kind and loving hands
tagging along with healthy motivated feet
to sustain ecologically balancing mindbody co-operators,
solidarity of EarthTribe’s EcoMentors,
too busy managing our bugs and parasitic ways
to build political economic empires of surfing sand.

I distrust myself
when reduced to behaviorist judge
of self and others.
I trust us to induce healthy communication of love as life,
robust through healthy wealth.

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TransRacial Family Wonderings

I wonder what makes you tick.

That quick shadow of a lopsided smile.
When you slap the wall as you step by.
Are these tics
that make you tick somehow?

I know what ticks you off.
Disrespecting your sacred right to become you.
Yet I doubt a Mercedes convertible
would actually respect your healthiest you.

I know what ticks me off about you.
Your relentless denial of anger
and fear
and sadness.
Your unwillingness to forgive yourself
for incarnating merely mortal human nature.

But, what about your unwillingness to forgive our human race
toward racism?
With you born into enslaved heritage,
a long supply of victim roles,
every time anyone sees you,
frames you,
labels you,
historical entrapment of bodies,
by other human mindbodies
contextualizing cultural enslavement of victim-minds,
tics of anger and fear
deep politicized and economized
into creases of dark v. light exterior display.

Does this also tick me off about you?
Do I reasonably expect you,
or anyone,
to forgive an entire species of life
for an oppressive monoculturally supremacist history
of human racial enculturation?

I know what ticks you off about me,
maybe.
My willingness to forgive myself
for my anthro-dominant tics,
habits of language and culture,
disformation of EarthTribal love
and healthy multicultural commitment,
economic solidarity of politically cooperative mutuality.

Because,
to forgive myself of anthro-dominant blindness
seems nondually inseparable
from forgiving us for the absurdity and hypocrisy of racism
and its anti-ecological conclusion of enslaving politically struggling life
by claiming economic ownership of Earth’s Natural/Spiritual Commons.

Ticking on,
rather than ticking off,
reconnects human nature within all EarthTribe RNA/DNA nature.
Distinctions of exterior mindbody polymorphic landscapes
retain polycultural healthfulness,
while our more universally monocultural interior DNA landscapes
of interdependent WinWin ReGeneration Stories
seem to unfold more importantly
more sanely
more rationally
more beautifully and truthfully,
about Golden Rule Solidarity
with political and economic power
to regenerate climatic racing health
with all EarthTribe’s uniting revolution.

What tics me off about me
is failure of multicultural curiosity,
absence of sufficient love
to optimize each relationship and each transaction’s cooperative opportunity
to resonate more deeply,
more ecologically,
more co-arising tribally,
together,
co-habitors of Sun-fueled Earth’s richly diverse,
and much-beloved, community of health,
profoundly mutual regenerative enculturation,
deep listening mutuality of trust-growing education,
Earth-functional in formation,
like evolution of heated organic composting networks
feeding time’s further love revolution.

All that said,
what I know too less about
is what ticks you on.
Probably the about face
of hypocrisy
and ignorance
and greed
and terror
and anthro-centrist racism
that tick you off.

Shadows of lopsided sad smiles.
Slapping walls as we push through.

 

 

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Love With Benefits

Could you love
an old white redneck
with HIV,
inhaling too much medicine?

Could you love him
if he were able to listen
without judging,
but commiserating,
curious about nuances,
finding dark humor
transcending rumors
of ego’s timorous tumors
and climatic tremblers?

Could you love a sad house-bound poet,
with too many kids of vulnerable colors,
interracially married but intergenerationally separated,
haunted by recurring adoption nightmares?
Abandonment
follows suffocation,
nutritional neglect,
drowning embryonic surf,
tidal pools propelling salty dissonant dark love,
organic compost fueling embryos toward light.

Could you love him
if he could know what you feel,
and why
and how,
and when,
and where we might care to hear
and feel and dance and breathe
this sacred opera again?

Could you love simplicity
if delivered with truer festivity?

Could you love
us becoming right now?

Could we love
exchanging anger management
for love’s cooperative opportunities?

Could you love
these ones you are already
miraculously with?

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In Defense of Ugly

I have nothing against the Cinderellas
of successful society.
Cinderella finds her opportunity for freedom
for love, hopefully,
goes for it,
and it works out for her
and all the Prince Charmings,
wherever they are hiding from my life.
Anyway, all good news
as far as this story goes.

But,
the plight of Ugly StepSisters and Brothers
deserves more compassionate empathy.

True,
they borrow too heavily from Evil StepMother’s playbook,
her monocultural empty-empire building manual
“How to compete for love and wealth
without sufficient loving health”

Still,
StepMom didn’t write this manual alone.
This scripture is as old as lack of requited love itself.

And,
what are the karmic outcomes for these Sisters,
lacking grace
to invite Cinderellas to share their space?
A day,
an hour,
a minute,
a moment devoid of choosing co-empathic possibility,
humor facing absurd lust for power
blind hope to control life
at least enough to absorb awareness of loss
and inevitable dying alone,
results in living too much alone
produces absence of full living-loving,
consumes embryonic integrity of regenerate life,
eats and addicts acids of empire-defensive despair
until nutrients of isolation mature
into degenerately self-disserving Evil StepSpinsters,
monsters spinning tragic runaway addictions
breeding chaotic anger,
fear of our darkness, our mortality terror,
our lack and absence and loss,
hating our own unredeeming suffering.

Ugly StepSisters are stuck
in silos of their own discontent
echoing Evil StepMother’s voice
foolishly empirically demanding satisfaction
with a closed fist
when grace is hers and his to choose
by merely opening her heart
to radically compassionate empathy.

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Non-Transactional Analysis

Most times
in my family
it’s easiest to avoid stumbling
over any of an ever-growing list of things
it’s not OK to say,
by saying nothing at all
when I cannot think of anything appropriate
on the ever-shortening list of things still OK to talk about.

This mutual solitary confinement does little good.
Somehow we can still hear each other thinking.

Although I would rest easier
if I had learned to think nothing at all,
this feels deeper than mere rest,
further than I am prepared to nest
without this family,
yet

where love is hard and sparse
between continents of despair and angry fear
of silence spreading from words
to thoughts
to feelings fading
to self absent
of other silent echoes.

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Riding the ColorLine Bus

I have typically had the experience
of riding comfortably
on a polycultural,
including multi-generational,
populated bus.

But,
I also have memories
of stepping onto a subway
and not feeling I am welcome
by my fellow-alien riders.
And sometimes this goes OK,
and somewhere the line keeps going out dark
and darker
as I get whiter and
more mutually parasitic,
like haunted and hunting bugs
exploring each other’s piece of the pond,
sniffing fear and anger
about needs and eco-tribal identities,
or total defense against co-empathy.

I have walked into a Louisiana bus stop
with a brown-skinned friend
to soon notice
each of us would have been safer
checking in without knowing each other
than we were checking out as polycultural friends.

I’ve been on a NYC train
with my brown-skinned sons
and felt like they were more welcome
than I,
and other Connecticut way more welcome than they would have been
without me,
profiled by angry women of color
aggressive with those cellphones
aimed toward the police,
about my suspicious white man ways,
what business could I possibly have
with my own sons?

Actually,
now that I think about it,
we often shared this question.
How could we possibly have anything to do with
or without each other?

Whatever it is and has been,
it is ours to do and not do,
others to watch kindly,
if possible,
or not watch
with the courtesy we are learning together,
to continue exploring some other polycultural way.

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My Funny Little Revolution Game

In my game of life
I play sometimes against,
and sometimes with,
Time as Other player.

Playing against
seems to have bad odds of feeling like a winner,
while playing with time
feels like we both win,
at least some Time,
especially if we simultaneously stretch
our love for gaming.

In my Evolution Game,
playing with and against Time as Other,
my rules emerge natural laws of healthy,
and pathology,
trends and order and political balance/imbalance,
witnessed by elder spirit voices,
iconic memories of past Games
with diastatic/static
diastolic/purgative
evolving rules of vocational recreation with co-passion play.

Nutrient rules flowing through my veins
and out through rivers of arteries of positive/negative trees
deep fertile cuts and folds,
articulating primal neural streams with suboptimizing substreams,
swelling mainframe-economy with eco-reiterating-nested synaptic revolutions
and co-ebbing aptic mutual win-sufficiency contentment,
more sustainable midway rest from playing against Other.

Now, in Time’s anthro-game of evolving life
s/he plays sometimes against anger and fear memories,
and sometimes with love and peace future investment
with winwin outcome intent,
co-arising regeneratively healthy Anthro-Egos as Other players,
also running coincidental WinWin, WinLose, and LoseLose
strategic naturally emergent health functions and dis-easing pathology
with transitionally revolutionary co-incarnate bilateral form
as postmillennial anthrocentric PlayNice frequencies of EarthTime.

In our love of eco-winning games
we play sometimes against cooperatively stretching regenesis,
and sometimes with Other natural loving life
strategic nutrient-nurture optimization players,
whenever and wherever we can hunt and haunt them up,
make them up as iconic gods and goddesses,
as necessary to harvest win-winnowing together.

In this funny little evolution game,
it is wrong because impossible
to harvest winnings we have not regeneratively seeded,
as individual ego players
and as a potentially Earth-centric tribe of team players.

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Marching EgoWinds

Note to PostMillennial God of Time:

Your human race exhausts ourselves
and our home
and our extended DNA/RNA family
and our soul-soil
and our blood-water flow of ecotherapeutic life
and our healthy integrative atmosphere.

What was Anger and FearFilled Memory of Heaven
has fallen upon Earth
a venial parasite
with rapacious competitive intent
to absorb the very last drop of hope
out of PreMillennial economic-industrial development
and politically faithless degenerate futures
for PostMillennial divestment
of your sacred cooperative-regenerate Wisdom vestments.

But, your continuously divine intent and practice,
your eco-vocation
to love each moment
born of past
just a bit more elationally,
co-relationally,
than we would without its baggaged past
and yet just a bit less
than its co-arising intent
toward regenerate Heaven on nondual healthy Earth,
Tribes advocating for PostMillennial cooperating networks
more than competing root systems,
global gods and goddesses
of bicameral eco-empathic loving CoPresent Time.

Why does such ecological healthy inclusive love
exhaust your sacred Time’s greatest lovers?
How could such profound integrity
so profoundly isolate
within co-arising and coincidental polypathy,
enculturing voices and divine integrity’s designs?

Information eco-functions in-empathic-telligence
blending bicameral positive evolution of love toward peace,
by struggling and suffering with dualdark angry PreMillennial,
painful birth,
and fear of post-climatic Millennialism,
static ego/anthro/”Earth”encultured death.

PostMillennial Gods and Goddesses of Time’s incarnate body
exhaustively repurpose PreMillennial Tribes of DNA/RNA double-binding EcoMind,
surfing bilaterally primal power of discontinuous enclosing prisons,
closed-set metasystems,
yet wildly suffering flows elational,
positive-midway double-negative in revolutionary scientific retrospect,
evolution branching spaciating time’s eco-birth
through and of and in and by and for each moment
of Ego’s co-messianic post-millennial death
of fear of Time’s co-gravitating absence.

Completely purgative,
your universal smooth-structured metaphysique of lovely synergy,
primal relationship of understoried creation,
between as within each pre- with post-Earth enthymeme,
health loving,
integral intuition
of dipolar dialectic diastatic vocation,
rolling toward hope for cooperating lives
yet terrified to let go
of Ego’s discontinuous
disintegrating
decomposing lively deaths
of co-incarnate Memory,
EcoNorms of God Love,
democratically ubiquitous,
global co-arising equity of faith,
yet solely present-tense accessible,
EcoPresent Diastolic
Becoming/Being
Longing/Belonging TaoTime.

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