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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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If I Could Take Time Back

If I could take it back
I would.
When I can bring you back
I will
make our bad word weapons disappear
so your heart and hope need not despair.

If I could repair your strong-heart soul
rich with vital confidence,
you can do this,
you can be this,
you are part of this,
in your way
which is a right way
for us to become with you,
you are doing this,
we are doing this together.

If I can take it back
I do
absorb our black ballistic tones
in minor tragic keys I aimed your way
out of my own fears
I can not love you fierce enough
to remember you must know
this extended Earth-stream has your back,
is your back,
together with you,
part of you,
always voting Yes for mutual wins,
where love embraces our shared hope
and not despair.

If you could catch this hope from me,
instead,
please do.

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Suicidal Notes

Do you sometimes wonder about your self identity
seen through your lens for suicidal risk as opportunity?

It interests me that this lens
evolves as we age.

In later adolescence,
we often look in the face of transition
from good nutritional outcomes on a small stage
about to enter more competitively sharkish waters
within a significantly larger landscape.

Or so I focused my lens in my younger lack-time of wonder.
Not sure why or how these same transitions did not also apply
to nearly all those nonsuicidal 18-24 year olds,
enjoying a more Positive Psychology.

But now, in later adulthood,
I more often look in the face of a potential suicide
as one with at best mediocre outcomes
on a too-small stage,
often familial, or lack thereof,
about to enter no stage at all,
thinking maybe why postpone this mortal inevitability
of decay.

From younger suicides,
“What would be the point of continuing
this WinLose Game,
when we all feel RealTime drill,
you never clearly win
until you stop losing,
and you never stop losing,
until you stop playing.
Clearly I am about to lose
what I don’t feel all that great about
ever having won
at others’ expense.”

From older suicides,
“What was the point
of taking so long
to end this rigged Lose to Lose
death-embracing game
called life?”

It feels like these despair and suffering questions
co-arise within exponentially more of us,
asking echoing silos
as our encultured Earth moves
into a new revolutionary millennium.

Given the now nearly inevitable demise
of our polyculturally and climatically climaxing
exterior and interior lenses
of healthy hope v. toxic pathological
and monocultural decline
of ecological
and economic
and political balance,
how do we know
we are more than an overpopulating parasitic blight
riding Earth’s mortuary-in-waiting
where Elders remind was once
a healthy regenerative place
to continue living?

Yet it is so important to notice
not only all despairing souls
jumping off roofs
but also healthfully repairing souls
building polyculturally positive-deviant landscapes
of organic and synergetic opportunity,
cooperative networks of resonant resolve
sounding Time’s dipolar appositional
issues of despair as opportunities to repair,
still seeking reasonable,
yet deviant,
hope for shared regenerational vocations,
with WinWin reiterating integrity.

No ego is autonomously responsible
for feelings or thoughts,
ideation or even beliefs.
So it is no one’s right to judge feelings,
our own feelings,
the feelings-beliefs-ideas of others
as unacceptable or somehow cosmically dysfunctional,
condemning or worthy of global applause
is to take all that we have been given
far too personally,
too unrealistically removed from comparative
and nuancing context
to discern how we might choose to carry on.

It is our responsibility,
personally, and as a species,
to notice trends of suffering and despair,
compared to trends of multisystemic diversity,
polycultural density of nutritional choices,
ranges of harmonic freedom and healthy cultural balance,
as they appear to reflect
and not reflect
our shared experience to date.

Not to judge and condemn failures and despair,
but to praise our most regenerative successes
and love for equitably accessible hope
to include all Earth’s cooperative economy
among our emerging synergetic Tribe
of curious interests.

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Terror Asylum

On another Thames River,
with steady rural New England flow
toward Long Island’s warming Sound
then on and out toward whispering drowned memories
of Atlantis,
slumbering on eastern bank,
surrounded by Pequot Elder spirit grounds,
ruined medicine’s monolithic altars
worshiping insanely labyrinthine proportion,
crumbling mental-physical stately asylum carcasses,
sagging with trembling memories
of cultural inability
to remember empathic presence,
basic nature’s noticing of potentially present voices
speaking through cracked window and door frames,
peeling exterior landscapes,
collapsed roofs with rotten root foundations,
mumbly murmuring memories
of past river fogged-in days
and nights of terrorism,
ruled by despots of exegetical sanity
applauding wild bacchanal voices
jumping into tidal swollen,
then shrunken,
yet steady and wise-stately,
reasonable flow away out
toward wilder presence downstream
outstraining severed screams
of inpolitic madness.

Intended to grow up a school for sanity,
collaterally invested dust and decay emerged a prison
of abuse and neglect,
oppressively irrational exculturation.

Wild voices dismembering
loving presence of person,
too entrapped by past terrors,
chronic, climatic, psychotic prison
for muttering conversations between Ego’s Anger voice
berating left-handed fear of Fear ambivalence,
quivering recrimination reiterating through dungeon drugged nights,
layering medicated mindless attendance
over basic neural noticing,
thereby inducting rot
briefly intuiting tender absence of co-mentored narrow path
toward polypathic enculturation,
hiding in a forest
of cracked and crumbling drives and walkways,
seductive viral toxic infestation
of history weeded over.

On this other Thames
visitors violate serene gloom of despair,
turning our backs to return to safer grounds,
no less trespassing wilderness
but more profane,
slinking down an overcrowded river
of ubiquitous investment
in tumble-down sane urbanity.

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Broken Family Pilgrimage

Broken hearts
bodies
neural systems
minds
heal in a profoundly broken,
sometimes revolutionary,
way.

Almost 18 now,
youngest son Yin speaks no domesticated,
commodifiable
marketable language,
only primal syntax of saintly glory,
heroic internal/external story
without distinction between “life” and “love;”
he can only know life/love as co-arising NOW,
inviting his perfect insight,
eco-self thru interdependent-other consciousness
flowing through DNA-engorged neural norms
of autonomic karmic grace
and Presence-Centered beauty,
ZeroCentric YinYin polydextrous
mind-body flow
primally rooted in
“love-as-happy” snaptic
dipolar correlated with
“loss-as-absence” aptic
polycultural faith
in Time’s unfolding harmonic abundance.

Teacher of Mystic
full-bodied mind-dreams
in sea of child naivete
of Win-Lose evolutionary revisionism
of his Earth Host’s
rainbow revolutionary evolutionary re-membering
of what only human language has exegetically severed.

Sainted SunSon
with primal gifts
to smile with intelligence of good-reiterative humor
to dance with feet and hands
with skin and ears and bones,
to sing bicameral balance in neural-cranial vibrating septum,
dia-hemispheric vision
sound
voice of all Earth’s bicameral livings
and minds
and hearts
and legs
and arms
especially stereophonic ears,
echoing eco-resonant deep sound,
co-gravitational nondual voice.

Mystic Son
resounding fractal-octaved crystal memories
of primal forested seasons
with reasons for Heaven Dawning
Golden Rules Upon Earth’s
Bilateral In-Formation,
I is You is Me.

Zero-Zen
ego/eco double-binding
co-arising
buddha body consciousness
rich in healthy wealth nutrition.

Perfect son.
Perfect co-mentor.
Perfect neighbor and family member,
sometimes rather verbal family contract renegotiator,
bus always right and true,
noble and good and just,
good-humored contentiousness
about our collective cognitive dissonance,
thinking we are healthy and he is not,
as usual,
half-ass backward.

Perfect co-messiah
of regeneratively full life.

Perfect icon
of low anxiety
grows low neural synaptic activity
emerges (0)-centric ego/eco Angel-not-so-manic Syndrome,
silent siloed saints
of cooperative ecoconscious conscience
regenerativity as beauty with good humor.

Excellent zen-guru,
tao transducer,
in our dipolar incubator,
regenerative nest
floating in our polycultural timeless sea
where seasonal syntax
speaks bicameral reality.

Yin-sun knows “family”
only as ballast
toward regenerative kinship
“we cooperatively
intergenerationally,
tribally,
eco-culturally are
and ionically share”;
without shadow of
ballistic weaponed
“you’re not family”
eisegetical creed
deductive reductive dominating
exegetical greed
to cooperatively feed each other
nutrients of healthiest wealth
regenerative open-optimizing
Win-Win
reverse hierarchializing
in-formating full-health function.

Yin-son’s family
means you are loved
with dignity and co-respect,
co-investors in Earth’s tribal gifts,
grace,
karma,
information
and cellular intelligence,
cooperative,
co-arising,
octave-harmonic frequency
Midway balancing
between hopeless tumor
and faithful humor.

Our Yin-Sun
who teaches me everything
I need and want to know
to love and care for him
is to learn love and care for self.

Broken hearts
bodies
neural systems
minds
heal in a profoundly broken,
sometimes revolutionary,
world turned rightside down
deeply transitional and climatic,
even clinically chronically decommodifying
degentrifying, decompositional
yet still-inceptual
enthymematic
wavey wu-wei way.

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Love’s Last Litany

I have never known alone
as when I lie next to you.

I have never felt orphaned,
unknown,
alien,
as when cramped within our zoo.

I have only become this dark
when missing not missing you.

I am breathing in
hoping to exhale, all through.
I don’t want to want to hear you
when I look past our sad dark eyes.

I can’t bear to sing this song
slow dancing echoed sighs.

I don’t want to be this anymore
becoming drawn to close my door.

If you can love me as I am
please help me find breath’s floor.

I don’t want to play house anymore,
my soul wilts in air this poor.

I don’t want to want to breathe us anymore.

I can’t want to breathe this evermore.

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Struggling Love

I know
you know
you stole our property,
our mutual possession,
our sense of co-ownership,
of belonging together
to grow our health forever.

I know
you took it for your sole ungrateful possession,
to use for your co-dependent purposes,
not a subject for open communication,
further evolution of whom we were becoming
together.

You know
I know
you stole our mutually co-arising trust
in cooperative objectives and views and color-filled perceptions,
you removed our room for cooperative gratitude,
replaced with anger and fear of future isolation,
divorce.

We both know
with deeply resonant intuitive integrity,
this critical event in our relationship cannot redeem,
re-direct,
re-connect,
our co-arising healthy trajectory
without mutually acknowledging
our sense of excommunicating loss and suffering
to have stolen
and to have been thereby co-laterally severed
from co-expansive gratitude,
replaced by co-condensing anger burning entropy,
absence of healthy wealth
through love’s reiterating Commons of communication.

We both know
If I am generous toward you,
if I “gift it forward” in your direction,
and you feel gratitude in response,
and express that gratitude through your deeds
and words
then you redeem and co-arise further generosity of love;
While not feeling and/or not expressing gratitude
in non-response
absorbs and dampens and depresses love
into our co-dependent toxicity of habit
where new creative loving life once grew.

We both are sane
as love will grow in our time
and organically chosen,
integratively intended, places,
relationships,
transactions.

We both are crazed
as other competing loves
still hunt and gather to fill in our gaps
and fracturing losses.

We all trust
our cosmological economy of synergy
evolves cooperatively reiterating gratitude,
human naturally reflected in love’s economy
co-arising generosity.

We mistrust
unilateral love, like lust,
so discontenting,
raises encrusted mountains of anger
deep flowing lava rivers of fear.

We respond
with trust and respect and care,
with practice and intent of generosity
until we no longer understand response as gratitude,
until chronic patterns feel empty of generosity returned,
redeemed,
replaced with judgment or apathy
too often swelling into anger and fear,
hunting and gathering and stealing
standing in for trust and respect and care.

I react
unwilling to continue this generous intent
because you steal my trust in our future
as co-arising health.

Struggling but still vigorously healthy love
evolves and sustains co-arising generosity
and mutually reiterative gratitude,
which would be no exception to our daily norm,
our default expectation of nature’s rich abundance,
if not for our mutual lack of gratitude,
iconically captured in Win-Lose economics
and anti-evolutionary cultural assumptions.

Love evolves
mutual economic generosity
as synergy revolves co-arising ecological paradigms,
systems and species,
cooperativity creation,
or love falls unrequited,
unredeemed,
stolen and absorbed into competitive mutual immunity,
heading toward entropically co-condensing selves,
cells of apathy and anger,
cancerous hurt and swollen suffering.

Love is risk
which often pays generous returns,
opportunities to invest further in healthy directions,
in relationships of evolving wealth.

We are free
to choose to stop loving
in response to suffering and ignorance and apathy,
anger and fear and hatred,
aimed at us by those we have invited into our trust;
free to stop responding to loss as mutual theft
with further generosity defusing integrity,
honesty,
because we feel too exhausted to survive
feeding toxic co-dependency
where we would nurture healthy co-redemption
of mutual investment in trust, caring,
this grace of cooperatively co-arising generosity.

I do not know
your quantities and qualities of need
for nurturing your healthy life.
If I have not offered generously
in response to your needs and wants and hopes,
don’t steal from me what was ours to mutually benefit
and then grow angry and fearful of how I may respond;
extend your generosity with me
just enough to help me understand
what you want
that I might have to give with gratitude.

Love is like a mountain,
majestic and beautiful to contemplate,
difficult to climb to the apex,
and harder still to survive there
to accomplish long-term healthy outcomes,
especially through cold winter nights.

Love presents life’s high stakes,
high risks for some nightmares,
high opportunities for some Great Day dreams.

 

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