Tag Archives: culture of health

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Teaching Integrity of Peace

What is our primal purpose
for continuing this troubling relationship?
asked Yang of Yin.

If you are clueless
then you have not been listening
to us
as actively as nondual times would predict,
replied Yin against Yang.

For me,
this purpose is to enjoy Sacred MotherEarth,
but I preferred to hear yours first,
again,
your speaking grace
where silence contemplatively rules,
replied Yang more gently back to Yin.

As we both well know,
for me
each space is time sufficient
for ecological gratitude,
neither mere secular reasons of nature
nor more romantic euphoria of serene spirits
planting as you harvest what we more cooperatively nurture,
defined Yin toward Yang.

We are
this yintegrity of gratitude
for enjoying MotherEarth’s outdoor Golden Ruling places
Golden Ratio Voices
Golden Elixir Schools for learning sacred ecology,
ecopolitics of cooperativity
as geese form immigration journeys
as co-emigrant bilateral functions of democracy
riding winds back and forth above waters
washing streams of cooperative fertile time,
integrity of you and me
as spacetime wu-wei We,
sings Yang while Yin dances
through mutually enjoying gratitude,
singing grace
dancing rhythms
of EarthMother’s fire-circle ecstasy.

What are primal relationships
for continuing this troubling dance?
asked YinWater under YangWinds
revolving Sacred EarthTime
together integrity.

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Random Acts of Grace

I wonder if our reasons
for growing random acts of violence
are similar
to our dwindling random acts of reasoned healing,
kindness,
gratitude,
unrequited love,
uncommodified,
unconscripted,
unscripted,
uncontained
restoring cooperative ecopolitical relationships forward
not just because this is our right and healthy familial thing to do
but because we multiculturally know and extend,
believe and intend
actively faith
these are our greatest
most noble
most therapeutic gifts of hope
given before punishments
for random acts of violence
could even have become conspired.

It has been speculated
by military-industrial hypnotized media
seeking short-term sensational profits,
and by cynical economic and political prophetic voices,

We have become numb
to millions of homeless children,
many of whom are now being burnished,
refurnished
and retooled
as LoseLose suicidal nihilistic soldiers,
pawns for burning with emotional hate
without ever having known love’s potential maturity.

Permanently stuck on pre-adolescent
survival of the All MonoCulturing Male Unit
erasing hard-fought memories
of compassion
for growing up among millions of homeless children
of all multiculturing genders
and nearly all species
with possible exceptions
for scavengers,
like cockroaches
and river rats
and millions of starving children
drowning
melting
fired-up fuel fading from view of homeless futures
requiring further punishment
for bothering to persistently survive
on air waves
and water
and plants
bought and sold
and too-patriarchally owned by other,
supposedly adult,
mature people,
presumed to only know how to play
I Win
so You Lose
competing evolutionary MightMakes GodRight games.

I wonder if our reasons
for random acts of restorative justice
to achieve healthy WinWin
outcome reminders
our troubling predators with our disturbing prey
could become permaculturally relearning opportunities
revolutionarily expanding
mentors among these already starving homeless children
and non-consenting adults,
sibling and tribal groups
health care giving and receiving as best we can,
not having seen or heard or felt bilateral co-operative WinWin
opportunities for renewing climates of health
since successfully departing
our long dead EarthMothers’ wombs.

When punishing weapons
for addiction to violent choices
are accessible to those who believe they,
and we,
can holistically afford them,
can afford to compromise investments with integrity,
our rights of WinWin ownership requited,
then those raised more through retribution’s fear and anger
than restoration’s love and healthy synergy
will always flood our gun shops first
and ballistic associations last
through clouding media’s ecopolitical marketing of death
and terror
over cooperatively-owned matriarchal-patriarchal balancing life
as yin with yang restorations,
preyors of benign predation
loving bilateral revolutionary relationships,
mutual creolizations within all ecotherapeutic EarthTribes
for social arts and communication,
and scientific enculturation,
deep learning cooperative restoration
of mutual education.

Deep learning
among homeless childhood memories
of double-boundaries
for healing lost compassions.

Violence corrupts this void
left through grace’s wrongful absence.

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Original Intents and Purposes

Original New Yorker Intents and Purposes

So who did you expect
to actually elect,
Vandana Shiva?

from Uniting Constitutions of MotherTrees

Tribes and groves
grow forests together
forming more therapeutically perfect Unions
of unity yin-flowing integrity,
not quite so much uniformity
of Yang’s violating offensive strengths
for deductively commodifying
financial quantities of economic justice
as real estates for all,
yet blind to yin’s qualities
of restorative
ecotherapeutic mercy for our best-intending selves
living here together
as one MotherTree
reconstituting Tribes
for regenerative
Golden Natural Rule
outcomes.

Natural rules
are also sacred therapies
with collateral intent
toward investing in general Welfare
of We the People
on our one Planet
with our Plants
for mutual loving predation of Yang
and matriarchal-yin beloved prey
victims
our shamed and blamed criminalizations
and marginalizations,
boundary issues of being in wrong places
with non-therapeutic intent
during bad Apple times,
when this most perfect EarthTribe Welfare
encounters climates of pathological risk.

Those who become citizens
of UnitingStated democracy
are born residents of Earth’s MotherTree CoOperative
committed to uphold this uniting general and more perfect Welfare
of individuals within ecotherapeutic families,
of families within EarthTribe Constituted First Native Nations,
for this Nation of and for democratic health care
giving therapeutically forward
toward future EarthTribe ReGenerations
and health care receiving restoring justice backward
since (0)-Soul
WinWin Space with Time
began our shared Welfare dream
of restorative ego/eco-therapeutic justice,
mutual mercies of noticing
who is upholding our more perfect healthcare Welfare,
and who is more like holding it up
like NRA evangelizers
standing fascist and allegedly saluting
flagpoles of fake plutocratic patriotism
and fake news of competition’s superiority for marketing purposes
and fake therapeutic constitutional intent.

Summary of Amendments
regarding self-impeaching anti-patriotic free speech
and behaviors
and grab and assault word choices toward further violence:

If the proposed public sector administrator
cannot run on a therapeutic record of cooperative ownership
and democratically evolving development
committed to clear health care giving and ecotherapeutic receiving

And if
instead defines our proposed future public administration
as against Whatever health care and receiving laws
and restorative justice rules
currently in ego- and eco-therapeutic place,
as being mostly against the Opposition’s Whatever here
as against the Opposition’s Whatever there,
without capacity to say or behave
as one might expect of a mature healthy ecotherapist
familiar with restorative justice
as therapeutically active hope
for our more perfect generic Welfare
as families
and communities
and as a nation
within a community of nations,

Then,
please,
with future 2020 perfect revisioning opportunities
just around our three year corner,
let us look very much
in exactly the opposite
optimal yin-flowing yang dipolar strengthening direction
for optimizing positive and therapeutic restorations
of health care,
thanksgiving as grace-receiving.

We’re all on a more perfectly uniting EarthTribe
revolutionary resurrection
of reforesting Paradise direction,
but probably best not to put the white guy with the Presidential erection
right there in the fake news director chair,
or twittering toilet
for that matter.

Notes:
Talk about the shame of Rome
burning while Caesar played with his
fiddle!
What about the blame of playing Trump
to inflame the entire planet
while playing with his
twitter messages?
Who let that happen?

It wasn’t the Council of MotherTrees,
I can tell you that for sure.
We have not yet been re-enfranchised,
given free-and-equal voice.

I think he learned his leadership skills
from New York’s taxi drivers.
But don’t blame them,
this was certainly not their original intent.

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Economic Tricks with Political Treats

Economic Tricks as Political Treats
from the Peace Council of MotherTrees

Herein lie my tricks with treats,
said she.

I imagine with my family,
and my on-line cooperative Allies,
and then my most wildly cooperative neighbors,
how we can best eco-trick
and poli-treat
together.

We imagine
what this community,
and then this nation,
would look and feel and sound and smell like
to walk outside
and about each day through night,
year after year,
and not once wonder
if I am safe
or if some random act of armed terrorism
might attack myself,
my family,
my community,
my nation,
my planet’s nations everywhere,
through remaining ecopolitical times
for tricks of cooperating treats.

Once peace becomes actively imagined,
then expected and anticipated
for multi-generations and all polycultures,
herein lies our WinWin cooperative magic,
tricks and treats,
not WinLose tricks or treats,
plans for necessary self-defense.

Once globally imagined
in mind with eyes,
in heart with listening ears,
in body by following one’s WinWin nose
and positive psychology tastes,
both sacred and secular,
then who would settle for Win/Lose
ThreatenWar and hope others Lose
more than you,
faster than you,
for in the end,
RightBrain WinWin
both hears and sees,
we all return with what we arrived,
minus Mother Earth’s
warm EarthMother WinWin womb.

My WinWin magic,
said soaring sorceress,
works best when polypathically democratic,
just as we are
at our EarthTribe WinWin best
and brightest ecopolitics.

And in this fundamentally trusting democratic way,
is our WinWin magic
to not continue with both our balls
or both our tits
all knotted up about each other’s supremely divine
and yet WinLose self-victimizing egos,
when we already,
with both Left and Right
as YangOut and YinIntrovertically double-binding know,
WinWin’s magic equates
two tricky balls as Originating Seeds
for and with two retreating tits as Originating Root BiLateral Sacred System,
with waves of love unfolding in-between
from EarthMother regenerating
back toward MotherEarth degenerated
with WinWin dominating in-between
wu-wei
magic tricks with treats,
said ecosystemic sorceress
and her son and daughter
and her EarthMother’s iconic WinWin tits
and tats,
yins and yangs,
intuitive Rights with deductive Lefts for
WinWin solidarity.

My magic wisdom
was shared by the Matriarchal Council of MotherTrees,
who know this land is cooperatively owned by all the forest
sticking WinWin together,
just as this planet grows cooperatively regenerate
by all WinWin sacred ecologists
tricking our treating cooperatives.

Problems with our dark magic voodoo ecopolitics
LoseLose pathological,
ensue when Left no longer reverences Elder Sacred Right,
when Yang turns patriarchally against Yin,
when egocentric dark magic
masquerades as healthy wholeness
All PureWhite religion
and prejudicial enculturation
against full-rainbow polypathic magic
of Matriarchal MotherTree Muses
written WinWin ring by ring regenerative,
and amazingly ego/eco-logical,
MotherEarth,
Gaian Goddess of MotherTree Councils
for practicing Earth-optimizing
winning tricks to win timeless treats
of EcoTherapeutic Magic.

My magic sorceress of Original Source
remembers to reweave
unfolding (0)Sum reminders:
Our best regenerative strategies
have been optimizing non-competitive defense
through more cooperatively-owned
and mutual bilateral offensives.

You did not see or hear this from me
unless, of magically Original (0)Sum Core Course,
as Matriarchal EarthTribe We
noticing and planning,
plotting and deliberating
this eternal timeless day and dualdark night
economically tricky
cooperatively growing eco-ownership values
of ego-political poly-optimizing treats,
in both secular and sacred full-octave tones
and hues
including ReGenerative Council of All EarthTribe.

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Waking Up Despair

Waking up to despair,
sadness,
bone-tired at war with a beeping alarm clock,
an alarming list of immediately urgent responsibilities
without an opportunity in sight,
or at least not this first despairing fright,
at end of night.

If this sounds familiar
as at least your normal Monday through Friday,
you probably need a better way toward bed
the night before.

Most likely, earlier.

But also,
even for many with mindfulness practices,
disciplines
with their own short and long-term rewards
for both natural and spiritual health,
remembering gratitude
is our interior face
of grace’s exterior face,
or karma’s exterior influences,
or love’s potential winners winning
full circle in theory,
yet too anemic during this dreaded alarm clock time.

If yours is solely a morning contemplative practice,
after you wave the kids off to school,
after the gym or the run,
after the personal hygiene,
it is already too late
to optimize your opportunity
to wake up with least claustrophobic despair
and most expansive hope
building toward faith
that this day just might be even better
than yesterday,
as utterly remarkable as yesterday appeared
as you were mindfully drifting off to sleep
perhaps even before greeting GrandMother Moon’s
new through full repeat performances.

She’ll be here all week,
visible and sometimes invisible,
guarding your restorative rights and responsibilities
toward regenerating tomorrow’s realistic gratitude
for renewed opportunities
to brush your teeth,
and greet each child and significant other,
to notice if these wake with a smile
toward this day,
or with a scowl
for lack of sleep
or a good dream interrupted,
and recognizing how this is two ways
of saying one important not yet thing
which can build toward despair,
and further lack of more therapeutic dreams.

It is an important personal and also political choice
to prepare for sleep
repairing for tomorrow’s grace
or in dread against our memories of grace’s lack,
apparent absence,
persistently stuck issues
too overwhelming to think or feel our way out of,
through,
beyond.

These are important items for evening contemplation too.
But, when I am making my lists,
I start with minuses,
drift off counting my appositional pluses.
They are both there
within us
if we can choose restorative faith
after our lights turn out.

In this sense
we can choose our karma,
our awareness of positive and negative grace.
Love’s tones of restorative therapy
and retributive punishment,
if not yet quite overwhelming gratitude,
also not awakening to further despair
from chronic days of self with other abuse and neglect.

I continue having a dream
that the night everyone in military-industrialized cultures
drifts off feeling graced with opportunities
to become and do every cooperative thing we can
to guarantee Earth’s future of healthy exterior climates,
that is the night before our first morning
arising together
without overwhelming internal competing despairs.

Faith that this restorative therapeutic day
could unfold no less grand
than this dream we shared
our polypathic
demilitarizing
dis-industrializing
less exhausting night before.

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Red and TrueBlue Family

Red and Blue Estrangered Families

Dear Siblings Three,

I was reading a story
in which some siblings became estranged
after their parents died,
while others moved toward greater solidarity.

This is a variation on a diaspora story.
But, here growing physical distance
is seen more as a geographic effect
than a political cause
of growing estrangement on one side,
and solidarity on the other.

Emigration out toward others of like faith systems
and re-immigration of siblings back toward each other,
circling our tribal wagons,
for now it is our turn
for that Great Transition
into mere grandparent mortality,
to go out toward this night better informed together
than estranged alone.

I thought of how true this is for me,
with my three siblings;
an older brother Mike
an sister Connie
from whom I feel estranged,
and a younger sister Kerry
whose mind and heart,
spirit and nature,
have always been
and yet still become
as one.

If I used speed dial
on my smart phone,
Kerry would be first on my contacts list.
My husband would be a distant second.

By contrast,
if Mike or Connie ever called,
my screen would only show
Michigan or Texas
because I have never put them in my contacts list.

That is how I define estranged
as contrasted with
solidarity.

Why we are as we are
we have never discussed.
And I wonder if I will regret this
should any one of you fade back into MotherEarth
before I do.

I suppose this sibling divide
may have to do with competing faith systems
rather than exploring cooperative,
and mutually appreciative,
multiculturing faith systems.

But I have no idea whether Connie or Mike would agree
with this hypothesis of prime cause,
or might include this
in a larger bag of history and enculturation
I have not thought of,
or perhaps have not yet learned to see.

So,
when I was compiling a list of Republicans I know
well enough to ask who they voted for
in our most recent Presidential selection,
and how are we feeling now
about those choices,
two of the four people I could imagine asking,
and yet not without some fear and trepidation,
are my own estranged Mike and Connie.

This leaves me wondering
how we will grow healthier as Earth’s
#1 consumer of fossil-based dwindling energy
and #1 producer of global climate pathologies, per capita,
if we don’t even talk about this
as families estranged from each other’s faith systems
yet sharing one national,
and preferably civil,
citizenship.

Faith systems, if they are about good faith,
should produce our own lives of growing integrity
and faith in healthy futures
for our children and grandchildren.

So it is, I am asking
Mike and Connie, but also Kerry,

Who did you vote for President last year,
or who would you have voted for,
in case you didn’t bother?
And how are you thinking/feeling
about that preference now,
approaching one year later?

I’ll start,
and invite each of you to respond in kind,
rather than writing in response to my story,
or to each other’s.
We can get to compare and contrast later,
as a second stage in a national dialogue,
if we each survive this familial first.

I would have voted for Hillary
if I had found the new polling place
before it so rudely closed,
right after I finally wrestled Ivy into bed.

During both the Obama and Clinton administrations,
Hillary was the primary architect,
or at least one of just two or three,
of diverse attempts to actually pass what would ideally have become
universal health care legislation
through a typically constipated bicameral Congress.

It also seemed to me that she extends her economic
and political investments
in health care
and receiving
to environmental health care
and receiving
issues,
concerns,
and ecological opportunities
to explore WinWin bicameral solutions
for both Republican conservators
in defense of humane physical,
and mental,
and spiritual health;
and Democratic libertines of equal health and thrival opportunities
of and for all species.

I erroneously thought the Republican candidate
was unlikely to win
because he ran against all of the above,
so at least the large majority of women voters,
traditionally strong on family and community health care issues,
would find Donald to be anathema,
both ecologically
and sacredly.

So, how I am feeling now,
as a Blue Connecticut State resident,
is angry,
and terrified
that what was Presidential campaign promised
continues to be my nightmares of cosmological disaster and threat,
and therefore compelled to do everything I can
to facilitate all of us
learning as much from this economic and ecological and political mistake
as possible,
as quickly as possible,
seeking 2020 critical certainty
before 2020 reaches its ultimate November selection.

We are a two BlueState,
two RedState family,
although Michigan is more ambiguous,
I doubt Mike’s Michigan Republican experience
is peculiarly ambiguous.

If we can talk about this
in a mutually appreciative way,
with gratitude for this opportunity
which can only last through all four lifelines,
perhaps we can help set a more harmonic bicameral tone
for and with our other increasingly estranged States,
and families.

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Columbian UnCivil Allegiances

It was a nasty war.

To call it an UnCivil War
is to avoid an obvious oxymoron
as embarrassing as Military Vitriolic Intelligence
through lack of Anger and Fear Management,
violently over-industrious absence of mutual assured civility.

We were too optimistic
about democracy’s therapeutic capacity
to heal still bleeding racist
and sexist
and anthro-supremacist wounds.

Meanwhile,
First Nation truth-tellers
predicted we newer natives must harvest xenophobic fascism
as we supplanted lock-step European royalists
to merely replant their WinLose colonizing intent
without creolization’s more slow-grown WinWin grace
to begin and end each day with resilient gratitude
for polycultured unity.

To avoid mid-way
one right-way rallies
for ever more uniform allegiance
to a patriotism defining
who is healthy favored inside
and who best remains pathologically inferior outside,
bought and therefore sold through God’s most obvious neglect,
bred and bled at ego monoculturing will
by those more sacredly sustaining
inside this most perfect Union’s
not truly mutually enfranchising multicultural folds.

Donald Trump is U.S. President,
the hopefully last exhaust of UnCivil Wars,
because he is not alone in unresolved conflicts
about economic and political lines
drawn between north and south,
now blue against red,
like diastatic and diastolic competitions,
where cooperative co-delineations are
hands-down
essential to healthy organic circulation,
Tranquility of Preambling Promise.

Blue would restore uniting ecojustice
as both sacred personal
and secular public
ecological vocation.

Overly commodifying utilitarian Reds
would return retributional revenge
against those threatening sacred restorative lines
of matriarchal equal with patriarchal rights
of eco-stewardship

To give up competing against hosts of alien nations
to invest more nutritionally
in cooperating with and as SkyWoman’s Original Native
EarthTribes,
long before Eastern sightings
of Nina,
Pinta,
and SantaMaria.

This larger unresolved Civil War
began renewed with ballistic forces
when Columbus Day colonizers
assumed European superiority.
Yet was,
at best,
midway unfolded as North America’s Great UnCivil War,
then after-shocks of contested cooperative enfranchisements,
advocacy and advertisements for mutually marching markets
toward consummating eisegetical pledges
of new-found allegiance to FatherLand
while laying waste to anciently permacultural nutritions,
kneaded and rewoven through Thanksgiving Resilience
MotherEarth Exegesis.

Together,
we close each warring violent chapter
with renewed opportunities to now,
again,
become of one united natural-spiritual mind;
not mere monoculturally competing allegiances toward uniformity,
but preferring instead
both Blue with Red polyculturing cooperative unity,
civilly NonViolent,
more perfect,
Unities.

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Threatened Organic Economies

“No federal agency should ever…declare war on any sector of our economy”

says EPA chief Scott Pruitt.

I wonder how uncomfortable Secretaries and Parents of Health and Human Services could be

with any Protection Agency

declaring war on all sectors of our human health ecology.

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Boundary Issues as Revolutionary Opportunities

I wonder if everyone
has a most dreaded dreamed
nightmare worst
way to conscientiously drop wrong dead.

Mine is claustrophobi-recallish buried
half alive at best is worse
in a wooden rough pine crate.

I’m feeling angry with those who raped,
then buried me black in here,
because I no longer have commercial value
in a WeWin
so YouLose
ecopolitical market,
and then return to becoming panic terrified
because I can no longer half-dead breathe!

My air is right exhausted,
and I can’t quite left remember
if I am more afraid to die angry-conscious
at ego- and anthro-anticentrism,
or more afraid of losing untotal consciousness
while being raped inside this claustrophobic crate
where eco-consciousness can no longer erupt another breath
remembering active history’s preconscious hope.

Honey. Really?
You have to go all sarcastic on me
just because I gently asked
if you had a nightmare?

So, yeah, there’s that.
Which feels profoundly sad
and despairing,
at least about wombs of ego-hope
buried in rough pine coffins
within Native American
sacred ecological injustice
as collateral damage
for WhiteMale rule my own damned eco-forest!

Some nights more deforesting tenuous relationships,
testing mutual WinLose capacities for patience
for Ego’s time to be both here and now,
some days,
without my half-dead buried while raped pine box
of RightBrain duarldark suppression,
I can reach toward reweaving
polypathic
more polycultural outcomes
reforesting
restoring ego’s peace
with MotherEarth’s ecojustice.

That’s nice, honey.
What shall we have
for our ecojustice deep rich breakfast?

Nightmare identities
have LeftBrain transparency problems
and boundary issues
and strange feelings of vulnerability as weakness
of inappropriate scale and speed for revolutions,
temporal flow-stream concerns
conjoining back and forth
across timeless time,
as dualdark Witness of 4-Dimmed RealTime.

Although not necessarily imagined in reverse order,
appositional,
oppositional bicameral,
dipolar not quite so bipolar
Left with Right not so much
Left against Right
communication,
dualdark information.

Angry monoculturing atoms avoiding fake ecopolitical good news gospels
and fear-emptying waves
of ego-thinned-yinned-out,
LoseLose playing out,
divesting backward
rather than investing forward,
RightBrain degenerative suppressions.

Perhaps you might hope for a bit more restorative honey
in your chamomile tea, dear.

No longer personal hope
for future active restorations,
installations of ego-peace
with ecojustice for EarthMothers and Allies,
Left with Right,
Yang with Yin
rather than waving hostile competing flags
of internal self half-allegiance,
back matriotic and forth patriotic,
like some kind of bipolar confusion
as cognitive-affective
self-perpetuating
anti-enculturation of stressing dissonance.

Yes, I hear the dissonance, dearest.
Hang in there.
I’m sure it’ll all come out OK.
Don’t forget to flush.

Oh my God!
Mother Earth’s
climatic health womb
is in pathological over-shoot!

Supreme violence of
“I Win,
so you are…

Raped,”
then buried claustophobically half-dead,
deforested,
unlivable,
without co-redeeming value,
LosersLose
DualDarkisms
DisUniting Entropic
Yang v Yin
cosmologically dis-culturing
DisGenerating
Outcome Strings
of YinFade-Out History,
Black, Out and In Double-Boundary
NightMare Issues.

Yes dear,
that’s right,
your hazelnuts are especially protected by double-boundary skins and shells
before becoming hopelessly buried
in MotherEarth’s compost
to rise again
a bilateral
at least somewhat balancing
nut tree.

When I consider
restoration to sanity’s ecopolitical standards,
mutual climates of healthy cultures,
and not so much pathological nightmares
of underslept
and overpopulated
and raped
and buried half-dead paranoia,
I also hear an invitation
within myself
and with my local through global community,
EarthTribe as my family of cousins,
our nations and states and incorporated estates,
to be less quick to only identify ourselves as victims
of crimes against nature and nurture,
without also more fully identifying
diverse levels and stages and frames of perpetrator responsibility.

We are invited to see ourselves
as both the aborted and pine-box buried baby,
but also as a community
which has given birth
to both of these EarthMother victims
and our own perpetrations,
violence,
revenge,
reiterative injustices,
lack of restored peace,
absence of cognitive-affective dissonance.

And we are part of both
my DeForesting Retributive NightMares
and our most polypathic Mother Earth
ReStorative Justice and Peace
for and of ReForesting DayDreams.

Speaking of which, dearest,
I’m off
into my EcoTherapeutic Day.
Sounds like you need a nap,
and probably more organic exercise.

Righto.
Don’t forget,
we’re picking out our healthier kids today.

That didn’t sound exactly right honey.
But I think I know what you mean.
Bye!

Bye-bye.

Now, let’s see.
Spiritual Ecology:
The Cry of the Earth,
Thich Nhat Hanh,
The nurturing bells
of nutritional mindfulness
are calling out to us,
trying to wake us
nightmare nuts
up,
reminding us to look deeply
at our restorative and retributive impact
on this matriarchal and patriarchal planet,
and have more compassion
for my own internal ecopolitical nightmare nights
of dualdark bicamerally ecological cosmologies,
both healthy
and pathological.

 

 

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This Is UnFinished Feminist Us

It’s peaceful here in my backyard.
The crows sound happy
with warm October sunlight.

I just read about a deadly gathering in Las Vegas.
Absence of sun-drenched peace.
Inconvenient this time of lost loss.
Death is always inconvenient,
even when invited.

A veteran,
about my age,
this shooter.

I feel like it took more than one
to hold and fire this mental illness rifle.
In a sad and guilty complicit sense,
we have collectively achieved what we bought
and sold
and settled for.

This malformed soldier
is a remnant of what most believed we needed to create,
back in the 60s,
brainwashed into believing
we were protecting wives and kids, somehow
by killing Vietnamese husbands
and many times their wives
and napalmed children,
trees,
forest.

Not exactly breeding ground for growing healthy minds
and well-armed bodies.

I dimly and darkly recall
a much earlier disagreement
with the new commander of the U.S. Navy’s
Officers Candidate School.
A first woman commandant,
something atrociously surprising to men-only militia violence,
similar to Medea
planning an angry hostile life.

This earlier time also started peacefully alone,
but inside,
waiting to be called in to her office,
at the beginning of her second week
in her new exalted position
over new violence-empowered candidates.

I had just completed a gratuitous violence first week of abuse
and militarily precise neglect,
as ruthlessly systematic as racism,
in frigid first week of January,
Rhode Island.
We were so close to the Atlantic
it felt like we were in the ocean.

We had also been frigidly outside,
and hotly inside,
yelled at,
systematically starved,
force marched in gusty zero-degree 3 AM darkness
without coats or hats or gloves,
in fact I think we were in our boxers and Tshirts one night,
due to someone’s sin of omission,
whether contrived on schedule
or spontaneously erupting
from pneumonia reduced and disabled minds,
I do not know.

The hardest part for me
was less than two hours sleep per night.
Industrially guaranteed to reduce oneself to crazy.

When I was first ushered in
for my early exit interview
by none other than her Military Medea Mightiness,
she took one look at miserably civilian dressed me
and asked why would I think it appropriate to disrespect her
by not bothering to show up in uniform.

I started to mention that I had never been issued one
when she told my keeper
that we needed to do an about face
and try again when I looked right.
Or at least as righter
as I might become.

So, he had to go out among my now-former classmates
to beg and borrow,
hopefully he didn’t steal,
boots and belts and pants and shirt and hat.
Later that same long and tedious day
I was once again summoned
for a second shoot.

She wanted to know
why I thought it was OK
to be the first to go
from this new class of officer candidates.
Did my recruiter not explain about this first hazing week?

Well no,
in fact I thought he told me hazing is illegal
in most States.
We develop soldiers;
we don’t grow bullies.

I understand you didn’t make a total ass of yourself.
So if you want to change your mind,
now that we turned the heat back on
and keep the lights off all night
and have turned the verbal abuse down a notch,
or maybe two,
I might be willing to listen
if you beg me nicely to stay here
with us in Navy Officer Paradise.

No thanks,
said I,
I’m already quite disgusted enough
by your shocking lack of even militarized intelligence
to see this as a navy not invested in preserving,
much less protecting,
real live humanity
hanging onto some semblance of sanity.

Oh but you see
this is not true.
Our rules of first week operationalization
are to save your sorry ass
because,
as we all know,
teamwork builds through ego assassinations.

Well no,
actually,
your own recent research on these issues
lies at my fingertips.
Required reading for psych and communication majors,
attitude change and persuasion students
where I hail from in Michigan.

It is a clear and present common threat to survival
that most quickly grows cooperative trust and teamwork,
cooperative co-investments,
especially among those who have learned to trust and respect each other,
including for our recognized
and understood and
appreciated diversity
of talents.
and shared sufficient simplicity of sleep
and active co-listening for harmonic voices.
Or maybe that was just for choirs
and military orchestras.

Well this is fake news to me!
she exclaimed in her sternly patriotic face.

I believe you,
which is why
I want out
of this absence of healthy care
and any semblance of sanity,
disloyal to my family’s investment,
my nation’s rational self-governing future,
and anathema to Sacred Mother Earth.

Are you Native American,
asked she,
as if she couldn’t care less or more.

No more or less than you
I would surmise.

It came as no surprise
when she eagerly accepted
my request to be relieved
of further dishonored service
and cast aside my various borrowed parts
because of ecopolitical leaders
confusing noble grace of unity
with bare-knuckled
bare-headed
frozen uniformity.

I wonder how the Green Beret shooter
in lost loss of Las Vegas
might have suffered from this same sad loss
of militarized teamwork disabilitization,
chronic and critical climates of constant stress.

When the enemy is down
and out of sight,
we cannot afford to have disaffected grunts
sit on angry-fearfilled butts
rethinking who is truly in my ego team’s best interest
and whom we might agree to take out next,
because healthy mental care giving and receiving
has nothing to do with formation
of militarizing violence.

In this same way,
a Presidential God Bless You,
twittered to victims of our own militarizing violent formations,
feels so empty,
fake as the blesser
would do even lesser
mental health care and receiving
for all God’s militarizing
and industrious We Win
So You Must Lose
soldier candidates in deformation,
but also neglected children
and trees,
and starlight
which could bring us together
in one mind of great thanksgiving.

 

So I was feeling badly,
sad,
because I share our mutually complicit status
for my compatriot’s difficult terrorizing
chronic stress disordering
time.
I too have been there,
lost there,
to a more moderate extent.
I just walked away.

I wish I had done more at the time
in the Navy’s January frigid spaces
against cooperative ecopolitics,
about being of more general use
if fascist critical events of the mid-seventies had been recorded,
freezing dark military-academic preparation time
industriously repeating
away from deforesting further virgin ecofeminist Vietnam forests
and their matriarchally cooperative villages,
to become watched on YouTube
by all prospective soldiers
and NRA advocates,
by patriotic nationalists,
thinking about possible antecedents,
before Bad Ol’ Daddy’s Country-Western Concert
went so very wrong.

I wish we could have recorded
this matriarchal confused and frightened patriotic
loyal commandantish face
when I shared with her
I felt ecofeminist disgraced
by her
Bitch!
Shoot at me again and I will Take You Out!!!
defacement,
in a most homophobic frozen officious place
of mutually inflicted terror.

So then I was feeling a bit more glad,
but still sad
I had not actually said more,
done more,
so I began trimming my twining tendrils
enveloping what’s left of uprooted deadwood trees
malingering in my back lot
and having a rough go of it
as my hedging shears
are no longer what once they were.

As usual,
I tend to speak with my plant recruits
and candidates for future flaming victories,
and felt required,
“I apologize
for this jab
and grab
and pull
and pushy ecopolitics,
but Mommy needs sharper,
and probably newer,
scissors for shutting up her
RightBrain EcoFeminist Diva Voice.

Apologizing to the entire human race”
of potential soldiers and ballistic deadwood downsizers
for your not yet having seen
that anti-feminist patriotic face
glare me back into space
with timeless time exclaiming
BITCH!
Shoot your GLBT EcoFeminist mouth OFF AT ME?
I DON’T military anti-ANTIfeminist THINK SO;

but I wonder how I feel about being this predator
in this eternal frame of egopolitical ignorance,
lack of cooperative military research
and economic-educational-formational intelligence gathering.

As I continued with hacking scissors
and played-out ecofeminist sawsall balls off
and the big manly Yang chopper offer
with their underdog heads!
I kept going back to those January freezing eyes.

IF LOOKS COULD KILL!!!
BITCH!!!!!
YOU DO NOT KNOW ME
and think you can punk your gay white ecofeminist butt
in my guest chair
and think your MidWest Academic BullCrap
will even so much as reach one
WinWin Ping of inspiration
aspiration
hope,
YOU DON’T KNOW ME!
I might have majored in BullDike Fascist Terrorism!
YOU DO NOT KNOW ME!!!

and maybe I don’t either.
Who wants to be that angry lose-lose antagonist
of military industrial absence of intelligence,
would you?

I wish this imaginary spacetime scene had played out
in RealTime frames just that audio way,
but even without sound,
with just her
I AM NOT YOUR BITCH!
but you are not going to be mine
either.

She could not sign those exit papers fast enough,
continues visual only images
of how I still feel,
more or less
about these tangled vines
and tough deadwoods
hanging out in my wanna be ecofeminist backyard.

I will chop them up
and paint them
into diva totem poles
and frames
in which ecofeminists
always play in YouTube Blue and Green Estates
of most polyculturally
matriarchal peace in this back lot solitude,

Although occasionally the patriarchal husband
makes a cameo appearance
for a few All Lives Matter Moments,

But usually just me,
in an early October day
preferring to forget dark frigid January anti-feminist nightmares
of militarized neglect
of basic health assurance and safety
delivered by angry matriarchal commandants,
and hedging shear divas,
depending on which lens is in play,
the full-staged historical tragedy
within my more personal back lot comedy.

 

It’s still peaceful here in my backyard.
The crows have flown off
warning descent of warm October sunlight.

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