Tag Archives: cuture

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Butt Kick Medicine

Need is a kick in the head,
then the butt.
Yang/Yin dissonance is fearful afterflow,
inviting undertow I would avoid
until becoming a crashing cart
with runaway in-your-face! horsepower.

What is a dialectical step into time,
cooperatively Left producing need
with Right conscience-ness
of how much, compared to Other,
and when
and why
memory footprints on the beach of time,
some more resonant and resolved before erasing,
surf re-merges,
submerges,
transition trends
with some left unabsorbed
before washing into history’s permacultural flow
of confluent wild ecoconscious Presence
Pre-science
Prescient
Present.

Time bilaterally co-gravity surfs
sands of positive place with double-negative lace
resolving comprehensive consciousness
that need to avoid or attach,
without wanting first to co-empathically become,
is a reincarnating kick
in the bicameral mindbody.

Footprints in these transitioning sands of new time
regenerate decomposing memory
within nature’s wild chaos of flowing
co-arising rhyme.

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Professor Gorey’s Sound Bytes

Professor Gorey
always had a story
filled wit guts and grim
til most folks around these parts
those with their full share of smarts
asked her where she finds her glory.

Grim Reaper
is not my heart’s keeper
and I thank you so for asking
just what I see as our life tasking,
to face our fears as permanent sleepers.

Professor Gorey
how could your story
of climatic strangulations
and cataclysmic slaughter of multiple reiterations
do other than make us snorey?

Story can wake you up
if you drink them with half-filled inductive cup
rather than gulping with competition
while choking on potential cooperation
between what’s contracting down while expanding up.

What is this mystery
we cannot see?
of breathing ego down while eco-up,
soothing prickly cats by playing gooey pups,
confusing what might become
with how we choose to be?

You’ve asked me well
so I must tell,
my gory mystery
of permaculturing history
is what makes my regenerating health so swell.

 

Note:

This piece plays with Alan Watts’ idea that there are two human cultural typologies, in mutually co-arising relationship. Pricklies are competitive-reductive dominant, following Win-Lose Gaming logistics, meaning that if I win then everybody else can lose, if they so choose, that is their business, and none of mine. Gooeys are cooperative-inductive dominant, following Win-Win Gaming logistics, meaning that if I win then everybody else might also be able to win, if they so choose, that is our business together, and We are larger Me.

Much of my economics-as-ecosystem work combines this observation with Julian Jaynes’ theory of the bicameral brain, where Left-ego-center hemisphere plays the role of Prickly, while Right-eco-center hemisphere plays the role of dual-transparently reiteratively balanced (the opposite of cognitive dissonance) DNA-fractal-gooey Elder AnaLogic as EcoLogic. This offers an internal landscape understory of why we notice what we notice through the lens of Positive Psychology, why positive balanced lifestyles, rich in healthy relationships, lead toward optimally regenerative happiness and fully-lived, enriched and enriching, cooperative lives and lifestyles and neighborhoods, and extended families, and tribes, and cultures, and other positive-polycultural information systems, inclusive of digital and binary QBit/8-Byte Octave reverse-hierarchical cooperatively double-bound logic-default Win-Win Gaming systems.

And I agree wholeheartedly with Charles Eisenstein that this cooperative Win-Win ecological economic human-natured game we unfold is sacred in its most cooperatively developed regenerations. and reiterations.

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Second Bites

Only female mosquitas bite,
she said.
So what do your male mosquitoes eat?
he asked.
Whatever we inbite them,
s/he said.

So who’s in control?
he asked.
We are,
she said.
Why not the mosquito?
he somewhat sexistly asked.

We are
includes both mosquito and mosquita
s/he regeneratively explained
her unfolding engenderfication
of bilateral time,
in racingly integrative space.

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Economic Content

Y/our relationship with ecology and economics
incarnates polypathically,
multisystemically therapeutic,
like positive human relationships
and richly fertile dreams
between DNA’s biological unfolding and Vitamin D’s
absorbing ways.

Y/our actively cooperating economic design,
intent,
assumptions,
love,
truth,
beauty,
fuel poyculturally multisystemic therapy,
ecohealing,
appositionally driven by competitive lose-lose long-term practices
feeding anger,
silos of fear and suffering,
haunted by monopolistic monochromatic mindless monocultural nightmares
of Black Hole entropic proportion,
socioeconomic pathology
wilting and suffocating purgation.

Black hole reverse-eco-normic competition
never ends with enough,
timelessly continues searching for infinity of heaven at hand.
Ecological cooperation soon builds diversely inclusive sufficiency,
together,
healthy warm kinda wealthy,
but just right,
pricklygoo culture.

If we don’t fly apart first,
we might learn to fly and swim together,
drinking from the same aerobic/autonomic fountain of knowledge,
in bull-bear fueled nutritional fields and markets
with permaculturally optimized design.

EcoTherapy practices peaceful Earth development,
proactively.

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Conversational Ecstasy

I believe SuperEgo bicameral comprehension
functions, forms, and flows organic
ecotherapeutic integrity;
I believe balanced Left-Right consciousness
orbits toward ecstatic psychology.

I’ve got nothin’ to say
And I’m gonna keep it just that way
’til my mean old SuperEgo
lets me go outside to play.

Imagine with me for a moment,
if you would be so generous,
god as not only love
but also the most joyful joy we could be,
cooperatively networked together.

And why do I want to play this imagination game
with you
or even without you?
What is this joy of which you speak?
I know peace in silent music
and wind and surf,
but is therapy of sound this joy?

Perhaps not quite enough,
maybe only halfway here.
We grow toward pregnant Now becoming being joy
with you.

While I assume this will not be news
I need to remind you
that your presence does not always feel like gift,
source of joy,
not so much really,
sometimes more painful to my drift.

Yes, I know.
But, it brings me joy to recall
in our more dissonant crash
that I feel precisely the same suffering way
about your sorry ass.

Perhaps you should find a different therapist.
One who evolves less sure of god as graced-love
and much more joy,
one not so sure your God is humor,
Eco-ing DNA’s RNA CommonSense.

If I understand your cynicism
I might write your song,
“I’ve got nothin’ to say
And I’m gonna keep it just that way
’til my mean Ol’ Dad
lets me go outside to play.“

Your issues with remembering who I am
rather than who you thought I would be
seem not too distant clarity
or even acceptance,
but your troubling habit of editing my opera
into your joyful musical comedy,
this tangles our melodic frequencies
and harmonic function.

How can I reach heavenly you
when all day through
you bind me to
your flight toward unEarthy game wars,
your fear of losing rich rewards,
blockade toward joy,
your life your toy
to blindly scream away?

How could I throw away this toy
you never gave me?
My defeats,
static surrenders to right-now desire,
or lack thereof,
steer me far clear of your enchantment
with ecstatic joy.

What is your purpose
when Earth’s becoming
is your wise Being,
if your Being
is not also Earth’s meaningful becoming?
If you are not part of Earth’s mindful nature
then Humane Being cannot naturally co-arise,
develop,
regenerate.
Your becoming cannot be not Our becoming,
my Being fades when we are not We
together.

What is this to me
your wilting Earth
and flat-line monopolistic dark comedy?
My joy turns tragedy to operatic outcomes.
What you label Oppositional Disorder
I hear as contending Cognitive Dissonance,
hoping for a Draw someday,
someplace away.

What you find unnaturally cacophonous
confuses my spirited silence.
Your values are not Ours
on my side of your Oppositional Divide,
my values are my own,
and I am free of Win, Lose, or Draw cultures
and competing for scarcity gamesmanship,
Our Truth as Consequence game
contains our Tug of War.
Imagine with me
in this Eternal Moment
your Ego filled with endless joyful joy
as you pull all Earth toward finish line
and you are confidently winning
your Boddhisatva Interdependent Challenge.
Even should you not choose releasing survival’s course rope,
you have full faith that We are winning
and this joy will never end.
Your Being has become,
your response fulfills your stimulus of birth,
your effect regenerates your course’s cause,
your What Ifs? echo and mirror your What Are We?,
all Earth recreates your joy.

I’ve got nothin’ to say
And I’m gonna keep it that way
’til my mean ol’ life pilgrimage
through dissonant pathology
let’s me go outside to play.

That does indeed sound operatic.

Right, and not so much joyful joy
this side of my playground.
See ya.
Wouldn’t wanna be ya.

Oh, but you are,
except your opera damns divine divas,
weeping and shrieking in off-stage wings
of perpetually-coming purgatory,
while Earth’s musical comedy,
reenacts all that drama on your Win-Lose playground,
where Her Sun ain’t bringin’ no bad news
all eternal day.

Why do you always need to have the last word,
the last line?

We have a shared last line.

No, you just did it again,
with the We thing.

Yes We did.

I’m closing the door now.

Yes We are.

Hopeless.

Joyless.

Can I maul your head?

Our head.

My head.

Imagining with We
brings joy.

LAAAAAAAAAST WORD! HA!

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EcoTherapy

EcoTherapy grows primal identity,

we are only, and always, integrity’s cooperative potential.

 

All else creates fantasy, illusion, myth,

both dissonant and resonant narratives

unfolding cultural nutrients,

hidden within history’s hard-bound revolutionary covers.

 

Create optimal identity dimming ego’s dissonance.

Incarnate resonant revolution

as silence invites ringing waves of rhythm.

 

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Sacred Pause

What have our children become

that we stand by to not watch them burn

then bury still screaming

shredding skin?

 

What have we become

that commerce doesn’t even pause

no unholy terror of awed silence

horrific wonder.

Voices continue shrilling

keyboards continue pounding

parents continue screaming

corporate minds still beat

industrious rhythms

streaming enculturing strings

of power without

sufficient wisdom to simply stop….

 

 

Silent full breaths of sorrow,

crucifying innocent redeemers

into deaths of ignorant anguish

self-hatred

raging fate

too dissonant to hear

too desperate to bear.

 

 

 

 

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