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The Admirable Admirer

I did not understand his visit,
it’s timing
or purpose
nor he mine, I suppose.

I would have asked
but Why?
felt better as a mystery
or magic
or in-between
explored by mythic listening
and passionate watching.

He was tall
slender
muscular without too much diesel Yang,
Graceful
and ecstatic
to see me again
after all these in-between years.

I was on an urgent mission
to rescue two wounded children
from uncertain surgical government
absence of healing care
but had to stop
as he approached
as if I were the only person
in all of Sacred EarthTribe
he had ever loved,
could love,
would love

But “should love”
that was my question
about why this visit
now
when I was so otherwise committed,
exhausted really.

Before I could explain
about my perennial rescue mission
he wanted to share with me
how remarkable his friend
who adopted
two complexly hurt children.

His enthusiasm was contagious
and comforting
What I needed to hear
to feel I merited his handsome smile
happy eyes
his intimately frank appraisal
of having been found good,
worthy in more ways than one
if I know what he means.

If he is this excited
about his friend
on a new rescue mission
for climate health of innocence
how enthused might he become
when I tell him
I am a struggling therapeutic parent
of four complex and discarded post-millennials,
inching toward our peaceful revolution,
restoring self with other love
integrity.

But he was gone
with the morning alarm
before we had time
to consummate this fabulous exchange
of mutual admiration.

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Einstein’s Sacred EcoMetrics

The younger Albert Einstein
was more intrigued by geometry of experience
than mere metaphysical abstractions.

During this younger time,
he wrote about bi-optical illusions
of Ego against Eco consciousness:

“This delusion is a kind of prison for us,
restricting us to our personal desires
and affection
for a few persons
nearest to us.
Our task must be
to free
ourselves from this prison…”

Einsteinian Elders
may remember dreams
Once upon time’s bi-optical illusions
of all Sacred Species
uniting for cooperation
rather than unifying polarities
furthering competitions.

Cooperatively invested children
within Elder Paradise Dreams
grow personally then politically,
ecologically nutritious then economically healthy,
sacred as Matriarchal ElderWombs before.

Gaian Einsteinians
told campfire creation stories
of organic healthy purpose.
Sacred Teachers
assisting EarthSoul’s cooperative process
of realigning harmonies
resonantly resolving
Reforesting Agrarian Paradise.

Elder Einstein
suffered an enormously disempowering
depressive sense of loss
after his uniting nuclear fusion Though Experiment
turned into society’s atomic militarized-ballistics.

Genocide of sacredly uniting Earth,
the anti-ecological conclusion
of Yang LeftBrain supremacy,
raping and blasting
secularizing patriarchal powers
of AnthroCompetitiveness
out of systemic balance
with Elder RightBrain
Matriarchal MemoryWomb
of CoOperative CreationStory Paradise.

Elder Einstein
grew toward dementia,
but high functioning.
Perhaps he joined the oncoming spectrum
at the top of awesome wonder
inhabiting manic dreams of nightmare blasts
sensing insatiable overpopulating risks
of rabidly competing human expansion
toward cancerous monoculturalism
and concomitant territorial risks
of ever more war-mongering
in a post-nuclear
fission-dominant Age.

A time of Great Transition
toward post-millennial death of a HomePlanet
through nuclear and nationalistic fissions,
losing solidarity with Sacred Earth
as mere collateral damage
for LeftBrain Reign of stubborn WinLose ego-empowerment
and bigotry
and sexism
against RightBrain cooperative matriarchal health care restoration
and regenerative spirit-nature receiving,
preferring consciousness of fusion’s deep rich nondualistic opportunities

EcoTherapeutic Fusion Dreams
frightened away by fission’s growing Great Walls
rather than slowly revolving blue-green orbiting revisions,
as curiously slow as watching paint undry,
restoring justice Paradise.

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Precocious Liturgies

I’m going through my morning routine
still at least half asleep,
pondering what was I pondering?
while preparing morning meds
and showering my daughter,
helping her dress,
filling her snack pail
for her long school bus ride,
changing my son’s overnight diaper,
lotioning ashy skin,
tying shoe laces,
hers, mine, ours,
feet walking onto the bus,
hooking all four corners of her safety harness
and walking back toward our house
thinking
I’ve been up for an hour
and now I’m ready to begin my day.

What was that first hour?
Its quality of dream
heading toward future investments
in life as more full consciousness.
Consciousness of a different dream?
A different sense of identity?
A different quality of life fullness
in contrast to dreamy half-consciousness,
on back to less than half,
and then the alarm clock
too quickly buzzing louder
to interrupt
whatever it was that had felt so ponderous
pondering what I had been pondering
before I drifted back into sleep.

Self awareness,
self and sometimes also other consciousness,
has this liquid flowing quality
of investment in life
and disinvestment through dreaming,
loss of self-embodied awareness.

I wonder if life could feel richer
if cash followed this same investment in conscious flow preference
over disinvesting in interest paid for over-dreaming
together in WinLose (0)Sum assuming societies,
Eden economies of Paradise Lost,
Bodhisattva Warriors
tying each other’s shoes
as necessary co-investment
and physically possible
and ecologically optimal
to get to that part of our conscious warrior day
we can re-invest in deeper consciousness
loving together,
investing in our cooperatively-held healthy water,
and nurturing air for the grandkids
and the back yard chorus of birds
and their grandkids
to breathe,
and fire for cooking and heating, but not hating,
and retelling family and tribal recreation stories,
Earth’s continuing liturgical investments
in self with other nutritional flowing consciousness.

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Traveling Death Salesman

I can’t sleep.
Or, I can
and did
for three hours
but I continue waking
into a Stephen King nightmare
too real to ignore
because I feel isolated
in this quagmire
of hopeless history.

In this my collective nightmare,
President Trump goes to Saudi Arabia
like Mr. Smith goes to Washington,
bold as an August justice day,
to sell 110 billion dollars of U.S. manufactured ballistics
in this heart of Middle East thirst
for violence–
like selling dope to jonesing crack addicts.

This deal is signed in the blood of our children
then celebrated in full glare of multi media spotlights
with blood dripping off our chins
and hands.
This is a really sweet success
for climate health and freedom fighters
and, oh yes,
our wealthy industrious friends
who rake in their riches
on the strong back
of capitalism’s vaguely cannibalistic WinLose addictions.

This nightmare continues on to Israel
where Jewish leaders wait
until our blood-stained ambassador
of international arm-sales corruption
turns his back
before at last declaring their alarm,
echoed at his next stop
in the Vatican
where even this home of history’s Crusades
finds such dark triumphalism
a bit too treacherously much.

Yet, as often as I awake within this bloodshed bacchanal
blaring with unseemly deep night trumpets
I also wake to total BusinessAsUsual silence
here in this U.S. home.

Here it feels alien accepted
that this is whom we have near bloodlessly become,
crack and frack and oil addicts
selling our preferred markets of death
in exchange for oil
or cash,
our democratically held self-esteem so low
we cannot remember our lowest common denominator
used to be a shared multiculturing Golden Rule.

We have better stuff to sell
for hope of light
not deadly despair.

So here I sit
in the middle of this night’s terrifying domestic silence,
wide awake with guilt
about such dark leadership
we have loosed in a troubling Earth
longing for even just one drop of climate sanity.

110 billion dollars re-invested.
Ours
to grease these well oiled wheels
of military industrializing tycoons
even General President Eisenhower
warned us against.

I guess healing our planet
and our extending brother-sister relationships
will have to wait
until all our guns
and oil,
bombs
and hate,
soldiers
and their innocent children
are gracelessly gone.

I doubt that dawn will ever come again,
yet worry what new macabre celebrations
in vampire cannibalistic capitalism
may appear across our morning screens,
knocking on and out and through our back doors
while our children sleep
in too short innocence.

110 billion for nihilistic death and terror sales
and not one entrepreneurial peep in protest
of sacrilegious prancing.
It is this screaming silence of abject immoral despair
that continues awaking me,
hoping I might see midnight lights
of kindred nightmare souls
haunted by such dark blood business
baldly broadcast as if to help us better sleep.

I toss and turn alone
while other childlike immigrants on Earth
sleep through 110 billion bloody nightmares.

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First and Lasting Light

He awakens.
Stretching lambent brown-earth eyes fully open
then stretching smile
while sitting stretching up
to meet morning light’s soft greeting
mystically caressing his warm dusk skin with cooler delights
across curious face and neck and grateful arms.

Bluejay scolding
squirrel chattering in scathing manic response.

Hawk hovering above,
hunting,
praying for prey this day,
watching
as he watches
through stretching preying agape eyes
returning into this day’s dramatic Earth events
to taste and feel and smell fresh breeze
dancing caress
fading smile
drooping eyes
to dream as falcon
soaring Earth’s grand eloquent delights.

He awakens to play
as he prays without embodied replay;
echoing eco analogical sounds with smells in co-flight
of and by and with and in and for his exegeting earthy nature.

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Thomas The Jefferson’s Train

In my dream
Thomas Jefferson pops out a pilgrim
in The Jeffersons family,
proprietors of Chinese laundries
on the worst end of Main Street’s forested path
emerging toward Sanford Sons and Daughters Recycling Dump.

Here, midst polyglot stone soups
both informing and deforming,
occasionally reforming,
Thomas declares revolutionary interdependence with Earth’s dignity
as his senior honor’s thesis
read out boldly to collegial students
teaching cultural enrichment,
hoping for autonomic network surges
of WinWin political ecological outcomes.

Thomas, sometimes called Red behind his considerable backside,
discovered repurposing as economic thesis
and recovering recycling paths of golden intentions
as political antithesis
of terrorist fascist Christians
who had hoped to grow up
to join SuperJewish kibbutzisms
which was merely a more high-toned reference
to the pilgrim’s village recycling crashdump
of at-risk people looking for more inviting places
with sufficient space
for the entire upstairs-downstairs Jefferson Tribe
of Arabic DayDream stews
and stud muffins.

When Red heard young Thomas hoped to revive Taoist MidWays
all along pilgrim’s Main Street sonnets and plays
he prayed to Martha Washington
“My heart, my heart,
I could not survive such empire deconstruction!”

Somehow SuperHero Thomas the Jeffersonian Train
regenerated a multicultural chain of fools
to revolve this foxy precycling plant
into a MidWay forest of sweet and sour bodhisattva delights,
currency accepted up as down MidWay’s carnival street
in Jefferson’s NoShirtTicket-NoLaundryService busy mess
of humanity deforming Earth’s Rights
to procreate recreation of poli-econormic education,
schools of synchronic swimming Red Jeffersonian fish
remembering how to pilgrim surf thru interracial plowing seasons
to turn out hot melting stone soup feasts
of uniting nation futures
invested in laundering unhealthy wealth
until Thomas redreamed rainbow cream.

As Thomas this Jefferson Train
pulled away from wu wei pilgrimage station,
he called out to all repurposing Foxes,
Merry CoMessiahs to all nations
and states of recycling benighted dreams.

Now there’s a good night’s sleep
you’ll never address backward inside-out again.

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Climatic Dreams

I had a historic dream
that Einstein led polypathic Elders
pursuing roots of time
as emergence of light’s speeding race
through regenerative histories,
thought experiments revolving resolving enculturation.

I dreamed energy conjoined space
as rhythm reiterates pattern,
as time incarnates changing place
as space bifurcates time’s revolving light and dark
mutual recessivity,
ecological balance of Earth’s cycling revolutions,
cooperative norms within interdependent symbiosis,
multisystemic revolutions of evolutionary paradigms,
poetry as language both light and dualdark heart-soul investment.

I dreamed terror reacting to ballistic weapons
revolted into wonder responding to synergetic cultural ballast,
dense nutritional balance of political relationships
with economic transactional harmony,
that spirituality rejoined naturality,
as nurture reflects nature,
that wealth rejoined health,
that degenerative histories conjoined regenerative futures,
that deductive logos refueled inductive mythos,
that economic intention continues incubating ecological forms
and recycling symbiotic frequencies of emergent evolution,
that living nondually co-arises loving
as struggling to harmonize with others
rather than struggling against poyculturally enriching outcomes.

I dreamed religion regenerates culture
rather than competes good spirits against evil natures,
that competing spiritual economies merged into cooperative ecology.

I dreamed of regenerating religions
co-arising from degenerative divisions
to presume solidarity of rightful love multiplication
as polycultural cooperation,
co-arising human nature’s political economy
encompassing all Earth’s co-evolving species.

I had a fertile Earth Day dream
that cooperation and fusion
absorb competition and fission,
that integrity overcomes suboptimizing mendacity,
that polycultural life management skills
reverse anthrocentric monocultural supremicist aggression,
that love optimization overwhelms threadbare anger and fear management.

I dreamed
we share a self-as-other regenerating integrity dream
of cooperative Earth Tribes
golden-ruling together
producing and consuming harmonic global poli-economic outcomes,
a self-regenerating WinWin network
where all needs are opportunities
without risk of health-loss to others,
without compromising future generations
of beloved climax gardens,
farms,
communities,
guilds,
vocations,
habitats,
landscapes of nondual robust resilient re-enculturation.

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Natural States of Being

Who were you today,
at your best moments?

Grouchy hermit
already missing quality dream times
and rhythms
when chimes greet pre-light’s crust frosty dawn,
to get Yang, then Yin, up and out of our sangha,
ready to enter their own daytime sanghas,
tired of such anciently perennial retired,
repeat,
reiterate,
Monday through Friday.

Notice
red coal scaly patterns
in blackened ash logs,
burning to fluffy carbon chalk,
nutrient potential for some soils,
although not mine,
perhaps my neighbor’s?

Joy
for a bright, although admittedly too intermittent, sun,
sliding in and out of hiding.

A smile,
where one would otherwise have been sadly absent.

Cold
feeling Arctic on my ears and neck
and nose
and through my nose out toward my aching bone marrow,
yet near my well-heated
and brightly lit
destination.

Ellen Fisher on NPR saying
“No one gets out of love alive.”
with so much enthusiasm and passion
for regenerative feelings and empathic maturing capacity
to manage anger’s ego-offense
with a strong remembering love’s co-opportunity defense
against high risk anthrocentric,
ego-bratty behavior.

Gratitude
for Yin political and economic cooperative opportunities
seeking harmonic balance.

Terror
of untimely rest as grace,
of older-wiser intent
without time to hear Earth’s glamorous response,
to newfound mutually speaking parts
and songs of dancing glances.

Gently eagerly lifting
blue tarp skirt
of my elegantly stacked woodpile,
seducing me with more fuel
for erotic clandestine fires.

Feeling Yang feeding on my third eye spot,
sucking in any embodied nutrients she might hope to find
within such grandfatherly care,
laughing together
at just how silly we appear
even to ourselves,
together.

Still,
yet contenting with this narrow midway
modestly chasing Gods of True Love reborn
long-married to Gods and Godesses of Angry Past Deductions
meet Fear of Future’s Inductive
dualdark function,
confluent dialectical ego-demise
sinking into moonfilled eco-hibernation.

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ReVisions of Political SugarPlums

Could we see and hear and feel and think better
more ubiquitously and cooperatively
and inclusively
if DreamTime speaks in naturally eco-logical language
of motion as emotions
co-empathically accessible
to all RNA/DNA informated
integratively regenerative
co-arising ecosystemic Ego-programs?

In our dreams
we all speak the same language
of fear and anger, threatening terminal self-hatred,
but also love and joy, promising an eternity of bliss
if only these would not
could not
should not fade and fake
back toward that downside wave,
fear of future without sufficient time
to grow this Ego into an EcoTree,

Bold and graceful
dropping leaves of Wisdom
sinking into fertile thirsty soil,
enculturing healthy rich nutrients
for family,
friends,
community and communication
with all Earth Tribes,
all dreaming in these same emotive languages
of fear and anger
versus love of joy,
versifies relations as elations,
or not-so-much.

Anger about winters past,
fear of fall’s deadly winnowing harvest
of ecolife risking egodeath,
timeless eternity of healthy wealth
or hell,
or most probably something midway between,
the only love within all language,
positive attitude as gratitude
basking in transparent joyous full-summer’s sun
wonder
slowly re-emerging as yet another winter.

In our dreams
we choose to win or lose
as we choose to live,
struggling with or struggling against each Golden Rule,
and usually some of both,
emerges into timeless waves
of how we choose to die.

DreamTime speaks in a universal language
of free rhythm
and dissonantly reversing patterns,
free of time’s double-binding constraints,
to syntax motion,
merge and submerge emotions,
drive regenerating and decomposing,
to polyculture ecologic,
hope for more elational joy of love
as less reductive anger about past times
and less fear of EcoPresent fully regenerating,
nurturing healthier poli-economic time.

Bicameral Time dreams a self-isolating
suboptimizing humane natured species,
with shamanic nature-as-spirit tendencies,
our most articulate eco-mentors
often wandering off into edgy fogs and bogs
to pray for,
breathe and eco-suffer and dance and resonantly sing
outside RealTime’s glaring spotlights
of technological networks
snacking on shallow soundbites.

DreamTime,
free us from relentless injustice,
for seeing lack of empathy
where surplus of antipathy
breathed and smoldered more honestly,
relentlessly burning warrior hearts
in passioned love with Eco-We
reclaiming full-co-arising integrity for Ego-Me,
free from investing in slow
death silos of quiet
laissez-faire mediocrity,
free to live Earth’s incubator nest
dreaming-webbing life as time’s space to be,
letting go of life alone at sea
to invest in sublimely sacred death
into EarthTribal We, eternally,
reconnecting me
to echo Earth’s harmonic frequency,
to dance as solar light of free,
with power to feel each you as me

In Full-Timed Dream of PolyCulturativity
We merge nightmares of incommensurable dissonance
into harmonic bifractal-octave teleology
of time’s 4-seasoned ecotherapeutic reason.

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NewPerennial Opera

Past years of lives of ages gone
yet dark shadows shaping choices,
hiding unrecognized options
waiting for their New Year ReSolutions.

Future lives unraveling evil absent
blinders
doubling over crying laughter
days of PreMillennial Futures
cooperatively over-invested in competing
to Win a race only won through losing
Ego’s monocultive face.

Past tears seeding passion’s future flowers.
Flowers tearing weeds’ proactive past repression.
Regenerating fusions
recessing degeneration’s fission,
co-arising to co-fall PolyPerennial Harvest.

Reverse-cycling trees praying through root systems
Their feathered leaves may climax each timeless day
to rest deeply ruthless shy fear of unending fear
fogging elation’s joy in timeless joy
for this ReGenerate PostMillennial Season
of ecotherapeutic deductively induced
Natural Systemic Reason.

Future years of loves of ages emerging
bicamerally enlightened form
as eco-balancing Tao function,
bilateral Time bowing Namaste
facing Elational Space’s ZenAsDay,
spirited forms emerging Time’s naturally harmonic function.

Science merging ConScience,
Transitional Generation cooperatively growing Post ReGeneration,
Physics polypathing MetaPhysics,
EcoSystems dancing 4-step MultiSystemic Therapy,
Hope faithing Active Love,
Energy revoluting Synergy, conjoined as Integrity,
Iterations evolving CoEmpathic ReIterations,
Oppositions co-arising NonDual Appositionals,
YinYin dual-dark enthymeming YangYin cosmic-logical balance,
ionic tipping points co-drawing nondual ergodic-holonic harmony,
Win-Lose Becoming resolutioning Win-Win Being,
(0) cooperative Elation radiating Prime Ego/Eco Relation
TaoTime investment regenerating RNA strings of cooperative health,
Old Year’s Eve begetting New Year’s Timeless Day
co-arising
dream embracing
TransParenting Nights.

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