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Vitamin D

I have a youngest sunny D
an improvising third of four
in third quarter beating maleness rhyme.

He wears the greatest many hats
but only one spirit-timed
Hippocratic
convocation
evocation.

He sings and shouts
C Major 7th inside voices
and outdoor D minor diminishments.

I have a youngest son named D,
improvising three for four
communicating RightBrain dominant
rhythmic looping sound vocations,
invocations
vacations
easier on my WiseElder
matriarchal years
counted in and by and with
AnimaMundi’s
robust
Plan D.

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Night Shift

Last night
I slept
or tried to
despite sharp elbows and knees
and hopelessly dark intrusive shoulders

In concerted effort
to squash me
into a round flat stanley
gingerbread manface

Squarely soft
like a just-right nutritious blanket
of good ginger smells
nurturing his palsied
elbows and lumpy knees,
bumpy shoulders and mind

Sleeping peaceful
innocence unvowed

No seizures allowed.

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Imperfect Trinities

I have two adult children
with ADHD
and some disconcerting levels
of unemployable diversity.

They go through each day
with three parts harmony:
I want this,
I want that,
I want this Other Thing.

In this they remind me
of me more than not:
I want food,
I want drink,
I want
either sex,
or a toilet
or a nap,
but not really all three.

That would be way too messy
to prefer
as a rule
for a perfect trinity.

And so we march on
through our not so diverse rounds
of hyperactivity
I want this
then want that
then these Other
feeding and bleeding
restorative Things.

 

 

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Praising Our Feminist Wind

Our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our skins,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright sky light.

My son
who cannot walk
nor speak his name
talks vociferously forth and with
and adding as this morning breeze
together part of Her embrace,
playful tickles
across his advocating happy Yanging face
teaching out and taking in, as possible
what and whom is impossible
for any of us to see,
whether blind as he
or sighted as we
might actually hope to be.

D is an avid scooting son
toward virgin forest greetings,
able to smell and feel morning seasons and rhythms
of days and night,
dark and persuasively gusty bright
flow of solar and lunar breezes
across our democratic EarthBound skins,
nurturing solidarity
older than concrete avenues toward cities
of overwhelming unforesting,
unraveling
tribes producing what once was nutrition,
good food more than fake food,
healthy love of gusty bright mornings
over toxic repressed-yin darks,
nightmares of climate acclimation
to separating multi-sensory linguistic pathologies.

D’s life is liturgy of love
blemished only by occasional aversions to entrapment
and suffering alone
when we might become possible
to produce healthier webs of cooperative nurture
together,
Dad and D
as We.

Daranyani D,
celebrating sacred forest winds
as feminine matriarchal principles
gracing his brown naked skin.

Diversity of days and holonic nightdreams,
democratic nutritional pluralism,
principles of forest reweaving civilizations
older than cities
surrounded by fading cultures of wealth
through deforesting this EarthTribe Morning
which,
on its very best warm gusty day,
has become worthy
of concelebrating Daranyani D’s
forest optimizing breezes,
liturgies of EarthTribe’s
Secular Out and Sacred In
brightest elder
matriarchally principled
(0)Soul bilateral sacred brain-dance,
Elder RightBrain
Still-PolyCulturating Light-RainDance Choreographies
Sacred (0)Sum EcoPolitical
BiCameral Green-Dominant.

Just like his preachy, but basically happy, ElderDad
co-eco incarnating
our forest habitat
gusts breezes
across our skins,
as darkness slowly turns
toward bright sky light.

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