Tag Archives: dreams

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Enabling Empathy

It’s weird
and sometimes wild
living with a non-LeftBrain verbal dominant
aspiring child,
now young adult

I find myself waiting for him
to nonverbally connect
and correct me
about my patriarchal domineering
economic and political ableist sins
of RightBrain felt omission
from commercial value
and, perhaps worse,
my passionately sacred co-messianic
self-responsible
unconditional co-enabling
sins of RightBrain depressive
trauma approach/avoid
ambivalent
obsessive/compulsive
commission
and reiterative recommission.

And
he never disappoints
going to the right
felt point

Could no more lie
or steal
than feel envy
fueling greed
for tomorrow’s self-sufficient hopes
and egocentric dreams

At night
when we sleep,
if not before
then after an overpowering seizure
He can explain to me

No ancient spiritual 1 experience
could be other than HereNow natural 0 feeling
linear and yet circular
regeneratively enspiraling

Without LeftBrain dominant
defensive weapons
1 protagonist neither can
nor would
nor should
retool and lavishly display 0 word voices
outside inadequately disabled numeric language
for nonverbal co-passion’s inside images

Sensory receptive memories,
cause-effect singular explanations
and co-arising circular narratives
of co-redemptive recycling
spiraling vicious
and virtuous
negative 1 bipolarity
and not-not positive non-0 dipolarity
co-arising appositional circles

Not divorcing physical Nature
outside abled bodies
from not just metaphysical
Spirit inside minds

Deep listening back through neurosystemic compassion
wet and warm
and dispassion
darkly parched and cold
bilateral multicultural
multigenerational
poly-paradigmatic
panentheistic
enthymematic health and safe feelings
making and remaking
neurosystemic distinctions

Integrity’s RightOriginal Mind
passion for outside health
and safe internal wealth
co-regeneration

Win/Win default
poly-passioned balance
bilateral

Ego Yang Verbal Left
stern deep-voiced patriarchal
sacred co-passioning
Eco Yintegral NonVerbal Right
pre-bicameral Taoist humming
indigenously outflowing
growing wise CoPassion

For positive-health EarthMother
warm comforting wet wombs
sacred surrounding
positive-wealth AnthroChild
co-operatively panentheistic
wild
belly laughing co-empathic passion

Internally sung and danced
oral wu-wei wisdom traditions
of body/mind
nature/spirit
out/inside formation
flowing co-relational balance
synergetic harmony
symphony
resonant integrity

Grows wiser pre-verbal
cooperatively positive health
than multigenerational
disabling apartheid nightmares
of polypathic abuse
and monoculturing neglect

Anticipating inside/outside mortal
-1/-0 lose/lose
universal cold
and feverishly hot tremors
predicting dark disuniting trauma.

It feels weird post-peak,
and sometimes wild,
continuing to sacredly aspire
to merit this gift

RightMind panentheistic survival
of LeftBrain talking
ego-monotheistic thriving
exclusive AnthroSpeaking salvation stories

Living
and apparently dying
repeatedly
with a non-LeftBrain verbal prominent
aspiring child,
now contentedly sleeping
in compassionate comfort
and organically warm
sacred joy

Hopefully
dreaming that we feel pleasantly weird,
sometimes provoking wild belly laughs,
feeling free outside a LeftBrain verbal dominant
label,
name,
+1 inside v -0 outside frame
EitherSacred Or SecularizedDisEnfranchisedOther
possibly unhealthy and unsafe
win/lose competitive imbalance

Preferring
RightMind prominent
warm and wet wombed compassion
emerging -(-0) inside/outside +1
equitable development dreamwork
emergent compassion conversations

Weird
and sometimes wild
living within a non-LeftBrain verbal
monoculturally dominant

Instead,
a more Here/Now
timelessly balancing
copassioning moment
of in/out-digenous
resiliently peaceful wisdom

To choose soulmates
health wealthy
and wisely

As they choose
to dream with you.

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Sins of Our Fathers

In hindsight
I suspect my dad silently hoped,
secretly conceived,
vicariously needed his dream
I would become a multi-talented musician.

He said, No.
behind my mother’s gentle apron
strings of soft-voiced disappointment,
but also hidden within unspoken fear
of Catholic influence
when I was invited to join
The Vienna Boy’s Choir.

I was too young.
I would be missed–the farm was an absorbing enterprise.
I wasn’t ready.
They weren’t ready, yet,
to let go.

But, then offers of guitar
and piano
and trombone lessons,
and choir
and worship music leader
soon followed,
as if from straight white watered
washed
and lied patriots
blessed by prize-giving patriarchs
who listened barely long enough
to hear I was marketably good
as an entertainer,
a professional,
not just another deep soul singer
or deeply soiled male dancer.

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Large Frame Painting

I used to envy still life painters
longing to see
organic geometric relationships
between full-color light
and irregular isolating forms,

These close to self-identity
and those background wildernesses
of bright and happy adventure
or dark and fear-filled
encroaching climate pathologies
unenduring nightmare epic nights.

Now I find healthier
and happier resilience
listening to biometric interrelationships
within ever changing,
not the least bit still dead,
flowing light formed Yang
nudging more or less happily
toward brightest ZeroCore
dualdark fertile pregnant potentialities
of universal Yintegrity
through sight and sound,

For polypathic touch and taste and feel
with polyphonic fragrances
of spring newborn cries and coos
through winter’s wise dream
musical-comedy/tragedy hibernation,
awaiting further new resilience days
with resonant bright sky nights

Ultra-violet souled,
witness to Earth’s great transitory emotions.

I now envy synergetic, not fragmenting,
creolizing, not colonizing
matriarchal both/and feeling
not so angry dominating patriarchal
either/or straight too queer
for mutual redemption,
resilient co-facilitators of communication
role-playing slow and GoldenRule grown
full-life revolving pictures
speaking nutritionally through cooperatively owned frames

Pursuing resilient health/wealth dreams
in ego’s foreground
as witnessed by polypathic
organic voices with rhythm
and pattern,
beat and light and darkly sung emotions
inviting bright and happy resonantly compassionate adventures
with AllSouls living,
past,
and regenerative future

Which is rather a larger
and more robust life-painting skills
integrity agenda.

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GoldenRule Dream Circles

I was one of ten invited
to play an ego-enrichment game,
to experience economies of mutual democratic trust
contrasted with Win/Lose politics
of privileged narcissistic lust.

Why?
I reasonably ask,
when each of these ten invited ego-systems
could be home in front of our wood stoves,
slurping our chicken noodle soup
with lightly buttered whole-wheat toast.

Not that I was hungry.
But, board-less monopoly games
are not my polypathically curious preference
for growing healthing trust
v pathological hate and hoarding over-investment crimes
against compassionate nature.

“Universal trust,”
begins our god-like game facilitator,
“is usually only available in the eyes of an infant,
or a buddha,
or some everyday unlimited lover,”
or an unusually healthy and good-humored co-facilitator.

“This game is designed to facilitate unmitigated trust
with each person here”
and each ego not yet here
within our global
polypathic health-system;
This cooperating game intends to practice
a classic Win/Win Golden Rule.”

Our Game Rules
stipulate each EgoPlayer
“will receive four thousand dollars to begin
and may invest some or all
into a central communion pot,
or pass.”

“After everyone has had an opportunity to co-invest,
I will act as banker,
count your collectively invested cash,
double it from our communal treasury,
here at my open right hand,
and evenly re-distribute the now-subsidized communal pot.”
Then, again,
each ego-player may re-invest all
or some
or none
into our eco-systemic Commons.

Experienced WinEgo/WinEcoSystemic Players,
all ten of us re-invested all four-thousand dollars
back into our mutual eco-pot.

Our divinely generous banker, in turn,
gave each of us eight-thousand dollars,
and so on
until our Heavenly Treasury went bust,
while each Ego had $128,000 in highly liquid assets
and yet felt forced to pass
against all further non-remunerated
repetitious uniform and ritualistic play.

Now,
imagine we ten are active Catholics
and the Banker is of a priestly caste
distributing communion wafers,
one each Sunday
to each co-investing player.

And, each EgoPlayer may choose to reinvest part
or all
or none
of this cooperatively co-invested Grace received
from past weekly iterations.

Experienced unitarian WinWin players,
all ten of us religiously follow Golden Communion Ethics,
reinvest all co-passioned Grace received
so ecosystemic Wealth
will multi-laterally tenfold double.

Until Earth’s natural/spiritual Grace bank implodes,
maxed out of re-seasonal nutrition cycles,
yet organically slow-growing emergent deeper resilient
and wider resonant games
in ecosystemic gardens
among properly co-passionate gardener circles,

Networks of Golden EgoPassioned Players
banking on our longest-term resilient nurturing Grace
as climate pace of just-right resonant
reiterating
mutually nourishing rounds of well-seasoned Time.

In which yangish MotherEarth facilitates Grace disbursements
and each YinEgo cooperative Win/Win acclimated player
co-facilitates our ecopolitical game
to climax co-empowerment,
communion pot-restoring enlightenment
rather than wasting any valued communal Grace
on punishing sub-optimizing weaknesses
of narcissistic free-loaders,
sheep straying from our GoldenRule
WinWin GameCircle of co-investing passions.

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Vespers At Dream Cafe

It was approaching sunset
displayed boldly across red sky west
as I entered Dream Café,

Time for candle lit vespers and incense
which I feared would be more personal nightmare
than political dream.

I came to this Café,
for the first time,
because our Democratic Town Committee
was nominating candidates for Mayor
and City Council
and School Board
right after silent and sung vespers
here inside a DreamCafe
on BenFranklin’s wisdom street.

I had been warned.
All those inside this Dream
each day at sunset
begin to smile with gratitude
and to pray
for multiculturing grace
to grow together.

This felt like a strangely inappropriate way
to fulfill Democratic trust commencements
so I was prepared to include my dismay
in my review
for next News delivery day.

Lights dimmed
along rose-hued
rough-cut walls
as candlelight began to come our way
through mists of frankincense in sway
and lavender,
orange and lemon oils
worked into handmade chairs
and cherry tables,
maple walls and oak-grained floor;
Incense burners on display
quieting louder sounds of fading AnthroPlay.

I had been warned
about this poly-creolizing array
to begin with a peace poem read
or sung
and, if a favorite of cooperatively gathered patrons,
then others might join in
sometimes swelling cadence
and harmonic rhythms
like I Have A Dream!
repeating what we’ve come to sacred share.

And so it was a well sung love song
for Earth,
of Earth,
and all Her EarthSoul Tribes
with and in harmonic sway.
Thanksgiving for sacred dawns
and dusks,
and all FirstForest creatures
and creations in-between,

And even nightmare absence of DreamCafes
for those still longing to belong
here,
where we are together planted,
here as now co-dreamers
of silent echoes
for just one solidarity moment
before reflecting voices
begin to stand
and sing fertile flowing anthems.

Voices speaking of love they heard
and felt this warm moist day
in Spring,
and who has come to mind
among WiseElders and Adolescents assembled
and nearby
here this dusky day
to rise above our sometimes polarizing fray.

And this
to my surprise
was how vespers invited nominations
for how best to continue ending our vespered day
for all who enter
this grace-filled DreamCafe,
and those nearby
eager to read all about it
come next NewDawn’s greeting way.

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Death of Dreams

Our children must not die
before their parents
or parental dreams die with them.

And, for those without children,
this is easily empathized
because our dreams must not die
before we do.

Without them
our best selves have already left
whatever misery and boredom remains
for further degenerating absence of purpose.

As our own remaining children
step into young adulthood
wise parents often continue listening
for their dreams.

In this way,
as our own immortal dreams and fantasies fade,
younger dreams become our own extending future.

Here,
in the imperative parental vocation
of restoring therapeutic justice
and peace to dream love’s future,
is where I hear resounding
Millennial Generation Silence

Absence of healthy economic and political dreams
for healing over-heated competing climates
and landscapes.

Restoring inclusive predator and prey recycling justice
and healthy pre-recycling parenting
and dreams of timeless youth
all begin with loving to know Why?

If you have parented a healthy verbal two year old,
you may remember
these challenges of Why
and concomitant insufficiencies of time
to sufficiently reply
Why not?

Why do we dream in language
and icons of mythic sacred relationship?

Why do I dream
of a revolving Fallen Eden
evolving restorative forest-garden relationships,
sacred and secular Paradise Dreams
revisited
revised
rewinding
reweaving Millennial ReGeneration Dreams?

Healthy ecopolitical futures
still Yang with Yin eating from fruit trees
of Sacred Loving Dreams
and Secularized NonDual DarkDeath
we cooperatively own and appositionally manage
root systemically together

ReStorative Yang EdenSpace
with ReDistributive Flowing YinNurture Time–
spiraling bilateral timeless Mythic EcoLogosed Times
of and for PostMillennial Therapeutic Dreams
asking how and when
and cooperating where already
and why not?

A healthy parent
must not lose sacred-secular Dreams
or we all die dreamless forever,
retributing further anger
and fearing frustrating injustice
language and icons of unweaving Earth
fallen eternally to burn
for asking God WhyNot?

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Interpreting Dreams and Political Nightmares

I have always had a fondness for the narrative of dreams.

Why this may be so
I could not speak.

I do recall a former life as a psych major
reading Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams.

Recognizing his iconic topography
yet wondering about his training
in phylogeny,
predicting one’s pre-adolescent healthy ego
and ecological restorations
of our species’ cooperatively maturing habitat
throughout our multicultural
matriarchal-dominant rebirthing story.

I hope to feel
this timeless sacred narrative
of Earth’s reweaving Sabbath,
regenerating Eden’s therapeutic dreams
of polyculturing Paradise.

And,
not quite so many patriarchal pathological nightmares
emerging shared paranoid and claustrophobic punishing vocations
so vulnerably naked without potential integrity,
somehow not yet patriarchally here
with matriarchal now,
co-arising.

I LeftBrain dominate with far too retributive
non-redistributive neglect of justice days
manifesting competitive WinLose assumptions,
haunted by LoseLose nightmares
of a merely secular mortality.
I RightBrain dream
in restoratively manifest destinies toward WinWin
ecopolities of cooperative therapeutic praxis.

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Wind Whispering CoMessiahs

Mentors of the BeeTrees

From NorthWinds
come darkening winter
as newborn discontent
waiting to spring forth.

From SouthWinds
come summer’s diastasis
climax of full-born wisdom
of contentment for and from all four directions
spread across sleeping hearts
of each nighttime regeneration.

From normalizing WestWind toward East colonializing
patriarchal harvest
comes abundant fall in grace
of grace
from grace fulfilled in heartier summer,
for grace processing
through deep long winter winds
of (0)-souls abundantly newborning.

From EastWind springs
nondually co-arise
good news as Easter strawberries
full and blood-red regenesis
well ahead of co-redeeming dreams
for other berries to come after white lillies lead
around green connifers
promising full summer’s heat
by learned lighttime
on this first day
of all gratitude
yet to reborn come
leaders of berries
and birds
and baby bodhisattvas
of all four winds,
each with their season,
reasons
rational Tao gratitudes
and irrational Confusion platitudes
of sacred yet secular ecology.

From NorthWinds
winter water darkens
within discontent
newborn,
dreams dawning
future seasons of gratitude
with summer’s fullblown positive attitude.
———————————————–
As I awake this morning
I remember a song I taught my more oppositionally disposed daughter:

I love you
and you might love me
even if I couldn’t
re-align my four B’s,
brain,
and branches,
and belly,
and butt
these four aligned
good government.

If you do
then I will too.

It was part of a dream
as I awoke this morning
I remembered EarthTribe is no longer the same population
living within that song
as when I went to bed
last night.

A few of us have died.
A few have been new born.

And so it goes each morning
since I was that new born
overwhelmed by all the collective Four-B wisdom
of older dreams
awakening each morning
to discover a few more have joined us,
coming along behind,
and a few more ahead
are now beyond any further potential
for re-alignment leadership
or even long-lived Fractal-B hums of silent listening.

And so I will go that last night
now leading those who listen
for a swelling population of EarthTribe Crystal-B Voices
greeting each new born pioneer
who joins us for this Earth training turning journey,

Vocation for wiser co-aligning Elders
as just normal-aptic naptime for others
just now begun
for whom we join our minds as one
in and with and for and of
peace-filling co-gratitude.

I wonder if our purist unity as EarthTribe
is only RightBrain known and felt in dreams
where reptiles and mammals and amphibeans
like beans and corn and squash
all process more alike than separate,
more interdependently than empty,
without distinctions arising sexism,
without separations co-arising racism,
without asseverational appositions causing self-righteous violence
unless we know these as unruly nightmares
begging to grow more restorative mercy
and thereby less necessity for retributive harsh justice,
patriarchal vengeance is ours!
as EarthTribe slowly shape-shifts repopulation
between each daily-nightly evolving frame
roundly rolling along spacetime’s polypathic avenues
becoming not exactly who we were yesterday,
as there is not sufficient time to quite grasp it all so much
in one timeless time,
just as, in RealTime,
unlike Common DreamTime,
we cannot quite get back
to (0)Sum original habitat
of spacetime’s full-blown diastatic revolution,
still home, disappointed yet again.

But,
maybe tomorrow night
this resonant resolution
may yet come to last
for tomorrow’s recast EarthTribe,
polyprotagonists
yet perpetually interdependent underdogs,
(read: bitches, eco-witches, Sacred EarthMothers, and MotherTrees,
no anonymous underdog identities undemocratically meant to be
unpolitically correctly excluded)
depending on your preferred bulldog or the b-word identity
of protagonizing ecojustice dreams
where Paradise Lost
looks more same than different
throughout today’s reborn
post-creolizing,
millennializing,
degenerating still,
then through this timeless multi-speciating dream,
more double-binding than simplistic (0)Sum LoseLose
degeneration with regeneration
for no one wakes up tomorrow
to re-create gratitude for dawn’s newborn delight
in FourB eco-alignments
more interdependently flying together
than degeneratively coming apart.
———————————————————–
Up from NorthWinds
comes darkening winter water
as newborn discontent
waiting to spring forth.

 

 

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Nightingales and Whippoorwills

An accident of history,
a coincidence,
I wonder,
EurAsia’s Nightingale
sings toward newborn dawns of life
hope
faith,
while New Western Hemisphere’s Eastern Whippoorwill
sends a darker through SouthWestern chill
warning of dualdark’s bodily demise.

These two,
Nightingales with transatlantic Whippoorwills
continue singing through our outdoor dreams
of nights
FullMoon Nightingales of EurAsian love
and NewMoon Whippoorwills
warning of impending loss,
climates of emerging,
co-gravitating pathology,
descent
waving toward Nightingale repressions,
reweaving nocturnal memories
of happyYang Opportunity within sadYin PromisedThreat.

An accident of history,
a coincidence,
this confusion of colonialism’s economic hubris
with anthro-elitism’s Whippoorwills
warning shared political LoseLose demise.

Nightingales heard LeftBrain dominant
echoing NewMoon Whippoorwills sung RightBrain
sacred
ecological
matriarchal concave womb,
nurturing dualdark mythic warnings
flying through troubling climatic dreams,
like distant rolling thunder
coming toward a capitol investment
near Earth’s groundnest,
GoodNews Nightingales
with BadFeeling Climates
revolving bright and dualdark
GrandMother Moon
sung in Whippoorwills.

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NightFlights

From onset of puberty
on through my early twenties
I had frequent flyer dreams.

Like learning to ride a bike,
I was nocturnally certain
just the right balance of body focus and mind flexibility
would lead to inevitable lift-off.

Perhaps it was not a coincidence
that the more daylight time riding my first and last red three-speed bike,
the more likely I was to invest my nightflights
in flying forward and yet flexibly floating free
to soar with stars
float and spin with the moon
looking down and back and out at EarthTribe’s AquaMarine Home,
laced with also flying cumulus fluffs of vaporous white,
as ephemeral as identity myself.

Adolescent hubris,
I know,
to imagine floating flexibly
with just sufficient internal focus, balance, centering
as if a Bodhisattva Flyer
of space as time traveling
forward future
and backward pasts,
outer becomings swelling
with inner flying beings co-gravitating
contracting concentric balance,
dreams of humane-growing flight as inhalation,
internal as external exhalation
mindbody co-operation,
co-optation,
co-present floating flights
of dreamscaped transparent night.

In my dream
we remain free to fly,
free from mind v body polarities,
spirit-nature remains inspiring bodies,
spiral flying full-flight dreams
of economic
and political
and psychological
EarthTribe Revolutions.

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