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Virgin Spring

We each have that early spring
post-matriarchal
un-hibernating
emerging from EarthMother moment,

An awareness memory
of late winter’s pregnant demands
to cramp and thrust forward
patriarchally over-powering
in full summer’s fertile august strength.

We each have this great green climate moment
of silent anticipation
bringing all our ancients gathered
and returning reborn music
danced in-between winter
and spring’s wild awakening
win winning together
seamlessly

All climates marched before
with all moods augustly septumbering behind
health/wealth bicamerally reiterating after

We each share one Great Matriarchal Transition
early springing out all over memory metaphors
of EarthMother’s first heart-felt song
sung inside late winter’s last hibernating
passive moments of bipolar unconsciousness

Marching into win/lose political
and economic
and personal
and natural/spiritual dipolar climates
and metaphoric moods,
conflicted/restricted voices
heard in slow-jazzed magic soul

As Pisces twins float midway
between healthy swimming heaven
and pathological hell
bi-fractally fifth-dimension
Aquarian EarthClimate ascendent

Emerging pregnant with creative nondual tension
as a regenerating inside/outside new mom moon

Transitional integrity’s annual fullness
reborn win-win EarthPatriotic power
of a liberating Virgo’s
august appolonian/dionysian
yang/yin
east/west LeftDominant
south/north RightRecessive revolutionary prominent
march toward democratic health/wealth
EarthCentric promise
with 2020 reverse-hierarchical ReVision.

Reborn of FatherNorth
and MotherSouth soils
and ancient DNA fractal regenerations

Zero ZenZone bicameral souls
of jazz dance left springing up and out
with gospel soul sung winter force/source right

Marching reborn
Matriarchal/Patriarch restoring justice,

Non-violent communicating embodied co-passions,
Pisces twins swim-dance
with spiritual gospel win/win Virgin muses
east with west
right early spring left late winter
in grateful green anticipation.

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Stalked by August Trees

Every time I change directions
lately, and possibly beforely,
Trees stand by to mentor
and nurture,
to feed with branched hands
to bleed when uprooted
from aptic past centuries
of hibernating winter naps.

Trees of original pheromone attraction,
August spawned
like Taurus colonizing crabgrass
embedded in deep horticultural learning root systems
self-with-other cooperative matriarchal
reverse-hierarchical
healthcare.

I’m driving my deep royal blue truck
without 1.5 tons of empty ideas
about why we tell each other we hope to plant trees
and edible urban goodnews landscapes.

And why deeper resilience
might invite us to think more extended family
about locally edible preferences for foragers
of all healthy species,
edible and humanely divinely ornamental.

Nor why merely WinWin ornamental undervalued lives
rather than Win/Lose edible and commodified deaths
bring more or less longterm health-resilient values
for unhungry people
and rapid but not rabid rabbits
and self-satisfied maternal turtles
and bedded oysters
and slow-grown snails
and sleek blue herons,
just because they too
can appear deep royal blue
when standing studying wet
nutritional environments
under a canopy
of May raining births and bursts
of pheromone coming leaves.

Why do healthy MotherTrees,
edibly and ornamentally developing,
cooperatively co-managing multicultural Trust with Beauty,
lust for a diversely wealthy woodland?
Responding to August pheromones
with healthy diastatic climax
here near our urban queered Thames River,
formerly Shetucket from the north and east,
and frantic Yantic
to those Western First TreeNation shored.

I remember driving
toward a first-time rendezvous
with another TaurusBrother,
deep royal purple
from early August sun
beneath picnic tabled shade trees.

Wearing broad branched shoulders
Armaments extending his Taurus pheromones
well beyond his white wife-beater
understory.
If not in heated August,
Would he still be my shade tree husband,
mentor of Win/Lose nature v spirit detachments
disassociations
half a well-branched tree story
without valuing rich deep ornamental August roots?

I want to plant fruit
and nut
and date trees,
and edible oyster
and clam
and turtle
and river-watered healthy habitat
because I am a more ornamentally interesting
and edibly invested tree of Taurus confidence
when planting and watching,
with authorized RightBrain WinWin gratitude,
graceful Trees of multiregenerational
sacred ecological
cooperative tree-rooted
August pheromone life.

Returning from an Urban Agriculture
cooperative conversation
about why we hope to heal
our jonesing
almost August souls
planting and caring for young growing Trees
seduced into reborn leaving life
by May becoming rich soil
and climate atmospheric pheromones.

WinWin Trees
and seasonally revolving pheromones.
I suppose these are why
I choose planting edible trees
with fellow ornamental minds
as these healthy WiseElders
planted RightBrain sacred wealth-inviting climates
reforesting Left/Right branching deep rich Green
August climaxing pheromones.

Trees WiseElder cared for my original farmhouse home,
oak and fir and maple
surrounding
shaded August rutting adolescent heat

Driving home
to my favorite stalking Trees
in my deep royal blue,
with WinWin green resilient interior,
August pheromanic Truck.

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August Storm

It started the 8th of June
moving away from too familiar
into too alien,
finding no sane oasis between.

Vibrant greens relentlessly fade
to wilting mono-academic drought.
Brown patches emerge with dulled loss of inspiration
of what might have been a family
an ecological home
a contenting pasture for aging bones,
hinky synapses flaring thorny tornadoes
of over-heating defeat.

Boxes realign themselves
incomprehensibly hiding any heathy value
in their move
from what could have been here
if not left there
where fading memories survive
my loss of regenerate presence.

Bags batter
bursting malignant neglect.
Chairs no longer fit
for seating hot self-abusive tempers
of displaced despair, dismay, dissonance.
Dust defecates deafening destiny.

A house that should be homeless
grows incipiently grateful for our habitual care;
downsizes redemptive purgation
into shrinking simplicity of violence
to invisible,
yet screaming silent strangling sensory strings
still slipping
sparkling vents glaring
glacially through stagnant July.

Then,
early August morning spills thick black.
Tall elder treetops sway above,
straining radical rooting systems below
with hope yet fear of cathartic free-flight wildness,
drama of release from double-bondage ambivalence
from petulant
radiant
hot diastolic July.

Lightning rolls in thunderous waving walls
competing back against falling drops of grace.
Transition storms through purging soul
stuck in discontenting worthless purgatory
in space without place
house without home
quasi-faith without hope
place with cavernous time
yin mindful without yang passion.

Earth and Sky roar co-arising dark wet flashy passion.
Wild yeast superlatively shredding domesticated designing culture’s skin,
bleaching dark co-passions through dry-cracked exegeting crevices.

“Abatement is not removal!”
Political abatement is not ecological removal
wild Wicked cackles demented co-investing delight.
“If great transitions were regenetic
then messianic nomads would rule our universalities,
pilgrims would landscape Promised Land RealTime Estates
with co-arising eco-karmic bilateral nutritious confidence.”

The storm abates,
drought removed.
Thunder claps and sighs farewell.
Brief time
now
to soar as evening’s rainbow
before fair decomposing haze horizon
rolls over light’s last disarraying gasp.
As night promises peace,
Thunder cracks and shakes one last remembering.
Yin’s serenity is not always Yang’s sanity.

Promise smiles integral syncopathic teardrops
on this hot tin roof.

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