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Safe Space

Am I safe now?
Are we safe?

Is it safe to listen here?
To speak of over there?

Is Earth safe to sing?
Safe to dance with?
Safe for new birth?
To spin past romance?

Does life matter
if no one’s noticing?
Remembering?
If no one’s vocation
is to sacredly listen?
while all creation refills silent gaps.

Are we safe now?
Reborn silent angels,
angels of light,
pushing back this dark night.

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Uncategorized

The Powder-Free Vinyl Exam Glove

It occasionally occurs to me,

as I distractedly remove my right dominant
Powder-Free Vinyl Exam Glove,
after yet another young adult diaper change,

Perhaps getting lovingly laid
by a lifetime committed
caring and passionately consenting peer
filled with warm compassion,
active hope for tomorrow
would not be the worst conjoining thing
that could happen to neuro-alternatively-challenged intelligent beings
childishly preferring win/win cooperative outcomes
derived from compassionate climaxing thought-feelings together
while experiencing full-sensory resonant mental health.

Then again,
I suppose the same
powder-free examervation might apply
to economic and political narcissists,
and patriarchal double-binary
co-disassociative left v right hemispheres
runaway debating between lonely older aescetics
ordained to fulfill male dominant sublimation
through yin-recessive win/win co-passion’s ostracization,
diminution,
fragmentation,
cognitive-affective dissonance.

And then I wonder
how long will it take
to re-sacralize humane non-elite poop
as richly robust future compost
best for black gold richly embedded fertility,
as I race and gender and age
to throw out plastic scat bags,
filled with cotton and plastic diapers
and under/overpads,
and right dominant
Powder-Free Vinyl Exam Gloves.

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Invoking Unfinished GodEssences

My autonomous ego’s life
feels unfinishable,
unthinkably mortal in future disconnection;
an unfinished compassion life,
unfinishable love,
an unpolished divine icon
of Earth’s self-promulgating creation,
recreation
becoming more articulately interdependent folks,
intersectional resacralizing populations,
self and other co-empowering creolization processors,
ego/eco-transubstantiating
north-western left hemisphere’s historic win/lose secularization.

Meanwhile,
our Gaian EarthMothers,
south past and eastern-future angelically co-present
Great Transition Troubadours
forever deepening sacred icons,
intersectional emissaries,
polypathic and polyphonic,
sacred MotherEarth becoming metaphorically global webbed,
rewoven away from left-hemisphere fashioned dualisms
of secularizing sacred both/and unity,
humanizing divine communion,
every day sanctuaried love-life,

Where pathological egocentric death
reconnects with healthy long-term compassionate communication
co-empathic communal deep listening
to learn nondualistic grief/gratitude re-education trends
bilaterally co-arising
unfinished articulation
still dynamically emanating
from unfinishable life
within Mother/Father EarthTribal His/HerStory.

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Uncategorized

My Body

You invited me to bring
some object of great regard,
And so I present My Body.

A marvelous sensory object
perfect in so many feeling ways
I dare not count
or shout
or flout it through my days.

Unlike my home
where some rooms I like
just as and where they are
and others could be larger
or a wee bit smaller,
and further back or front,
less up and more down
to better accommodate this perfectly aging body,

All my inside parts are perfectly placed,
even my mealtime’s exhaustive plumbing space,
I’ve grown systemically proportioned,
and synergetic’ly refunctioned,
integrally ecologized with marvelous winning grace
and apparent co-relational ease of pace,
although dis-ease does threaten inside grief
as outside gratitude
to leave room for younger climate minds;
Who healthy best remember
this cherished
chiseled
richly robust EarthBody.

My garden would be magnificent
if as organically functioned
as my organs
and my digits
and my senses of magical sight
and sound
and tasty touch and feeling
good wealth object-ives for lunch this day.

I mention house and garden
because these objects, too,
I cherish
and yet they feel less sacred,
worthy of awe and wonder from you
than this body
which I usually cover up,
especially when going out for lunch,
unless you would rather that I not?

Perhaps you would prefer
I had brought what’s left of my right mind,
to more objectively share,
critically compare;
Rather than leave this gloriously embodied self
wide open
for your most remarkably startled glare,

Which was my original nutritional intent, you see
before you asked me,
To bring a specific icon,
my most noble ancient object
worthy of our admiring subjective stare.

And now in closing
I must confess
this body’s shy performance
finds life easier to bear
by imagining your well-seated bodies
in nothing less or more than underwear.

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Outdoor Sanctuary

I am much more likely to feel like a respectful,
trusting family member
than an entitled warrior,
when outside “property improvements”
than when inside anthropocentric habitats.

Sometimes
even as I approach my favorite sanctuary,
an AllSouls Unitarian-Universalist built structure,
I feel more sacred peace before I open our front door
of intended mutual hospitality
accommodation
conversation
accompaniment on life’s great spirited journey,
than after closed off into merely human monoculturing nature.

It’s not that I see or hear myself
as some great and profound nature mystic.
A post-millennial John Muir
I am clearly not,
although I would like to at least feel myself this communal way.

This contrast between indoor and outdoor trust
and resonance
comes not from feeling trees embrace me
but from me embracing trees
through sight
and sound,
smell,
touch,
occasionally taste, if no humans are watching
with judgmental eyes.

Trees are much more tolerant of my curiosity,
intrusiveness,
than my cousins,
and most of my siblings.

Perhaps tolerance is not the best word choice.
Acceptance sounds more reassuring.
Inviting into co-presence feels too grand,
yet honorable,
worthy of vocational commitment,
loyal

Where indoor mistrust and distrust relationships
speak of selfishly heartless patriotism
and national monoculturing identity
and language and cultural antipathy,
rather than positive integrity
of a sanctuaried people
longing to live free
and comparatively loving lives
under and within paint
and textured sheetrock
looking a bit like bark
if high-end
and if I am feeling generous;
boundaried boxes smelling like chemical toxins.

This unfortunate comparison feels too simple,
for sustained resolution
of internal unsancturied sensitivity,
to notice I need to get out more,
because this means leaving my good faith community behind
as if I were so autonomously strong
in active outside hope and passionately robust love
that I need not hear human stories,
songs,
Need not see and conjoin liturgical non-verbal dance,
sacred rhythms
and patterns of compassionate dialogue,
mutual esteem and support,
appreciation,
warm accompaniment,
not of warriors,
but of peace-builders,
resolvers,
cooperative listeners, prayers
non-predative.

My oppositionally defiant daughter,
when in a forgiving mood,
refers to me as a “Talking Head.”

I find too much truth in her smiling tolerance
of this inflamed ego’s hunger and thirst
for regard
rather than a quieter mutual righteousness
of co-presence,
stalking hearts
inside as necessary for communion’s nurture
and outside as profitable for everyday sane nature.

I respect the limiting fact that pipe organs
and grand pianos
cannot sustain in the rain,
but I also seem to respect the possibility
of rapture in a cappella chant
and fire-circle sanctuary dance
witnessed by trees
and stars,
spoken of only by sacred smoky breezes.

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WeToo Bucket Lists

My list of domestic chores
vocations
avocations
I no longer wish to know and do
grows longer with each advancing year.

And, because I live with no one
capable and willing to work with me,
side by side,
or even in alternating shifts
and loads
and harvests
and plantings,
it is difficult to grow experientially sure
my motivation has faded entirely,
whether with at least one Other,
or by myself
with only nonhuman fully-abled natures
for song and dance accompaniment.

But, what of my non-domestic bucket list?
That larger stage of ecofeminist transformation,
ecovillage healthy wealth invitation,
sanctuary, green and/or multi-colored celebration
for compassionately resilient
and nutritional communication,
active hope,
sacred trust vocation
for
and of
and within Earth’s warmly integral home
and Great Transitional hearted heart potential.

No bucket I could imagine
would fill all these polypathic double-binding destinations
becoming wealthy here
and trans-regenerationally healthy throughout time
communioned here as now
to my remembering mind

And further fortune future-hunting heart
fulfilling our whole EarthBucket
with passion’s perpetually young
embodied co-investments
transcending past wealth
through immanent
imminent future inclusive health.

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Repurposing Life and Death

Life or death
is a left-brain dominant cultural assumption,
While right-brain is more comfortable
with life and death,
health and pathology,
nuance of co-arising dipolarity.

Environmentalists
shout for sustainability!
Ecologists calmly advocate
polycultural energy resilience
to recreate wealthier dynamic ecosystems

While warm psychologists
and embracing psychiatrists
listen for co-relational resonance within
and between
healthy cooperative ego-systems.

But,
resonance between egos
not so robustly,
democratically healthy,
might also develop unfortunately viral,
vicious feedback loops
of negative,
toxic communication
festering monocultural missions
of supremacist degenerativity;
more of a persistently narcissistic weed patch
than a resonant right-brain
and resilient left-brain
ego/eco-system.

I recently read that viruses
can be as dead
static
zero-dynamic absent exchange of energy,
a tiny pebble,
but, when placed in a friendly organic environment,
come back to life,
rebirth resonance,
if not life/death recycling resilience.

Physicists,
sounding more like cool metaphysicists,
report subatomic particles are affluently indestructible
and effluently destructible,
depending on whether we observe as a functional part of a whole
or as a structured whole of an energy flowing past through future part.

Immortal because an unchanging co-related potentiality
within any one static moment of unimage-able time,
and yet mortal
as a constantly changing process
of co-acclimating energy exchange,
transitioning into transformation
into retransitioning.

Resilient
when spatially imaged as individual function,
secular,
autonomous,
independent sub-structure co-relational constancy
within a linear line of temporal events,
not resonantly,
sacredly fulfilled,
sufficient,
satisfying
as complete viral extending family
into spatial interdependence.

Resonantly alive
when resilience
flows toward positive healthy,
co-relational intent,
and not confused with persistent fragmentation
flowing out into dispersed
despaired
evaporating lose/lose potentialities,
monocultiuring weed patch autocratic,
self-aggrandizing intent,

Which matures into rabidity,
feeds on our own young,
future generations,
and, finally, on our own extremities
until democratic viral death
remains autonomously,
irresiliently silent
still
without hope
for life
or even further death
of life-giving species.

Which may all have something,
and nothing,
to do with why the most positively viral economic
and political
and social
and psychological
and analogical
and ethological
and metaphysical enlivening environmentalists
resonantly speak up and out!!
for optimizing sustained
dynamic
co-relational
co-arising
co-present resilience of cooperative intent!!
to optimize all climates
advocating multicultural exclamation points!!
of life and death and repurposing life…

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