Mother Earth to AntiFeminist AmericaFirst Patriots:
Is that a gun in your flagwaving
rightwing
stand-up for allegiance to plutocracy pocket,
or are you equal injustice happy to rape me first
and last?
Tag Archives: ecology
The Gardener and the GunShop Owner
Degenerative issues for the gunshop owner
are also regenerative opportunities from the gardener.
Lack of civil civics lessons slacked
for small persons made of evil
is also opportunity to learn love’s live,
is evil respelled backward.
Please stand as you are able
to sing along in your best country western anthemed voice
for more love songs and less unchallenged microphones
feeding fears and angers that some people,
quite country simply,
just perversely choose to become psychopaths
and violently mentally ill,
and thereby wicked evil.
I heard him on the radio
the gun shop owner said
You can’t undo this evil.
Some folks will always think
you and yours would be better off dead.
I heard the gardener
when she said
It must be different where you’re from.
We are taught to feed to deeply live
and stop watering the weeds.
If your kid were at a concert
which would you rather hear?
The gun shop owner’s hopeless evil
so feed us more ballistics faster
or the gardener’s hope to live
through composting root systems
to dig in richer,
warmer schools and families,
nations and estates,
corporations and incarnations
with better healthing vital ballast?
What might we do yet together
if those first two years of school
our teachers taught Make Love Not War
just like the Golden Rule?
I wonder if we’d still require
two years defacing
and refacing
and effacing anger management
through better ballistic bureau owners
recruiting basic training for military violence industrialization
if we simply fed more let love live
to younger generations
so less water for those growling evil weeds.
You can’t talk with a mike to a man
with a shotgun business in both hands
but you can sing and dance
with a WinWin boy
before he’s been watered to want
to fire a gun,
just for self-bruising kicks.
Now our minds might be as one
love for sacred Mother Earth
with our Golden Ruling Sun’s
who don’t make no evil bankrupt children.
Somebody,
please,
turn the gunshop owners microphone off.
Turn off the electricity,
and their/our flooding waters
of overwhelming volume
for mutually accepted hate
and fear
without so much as calculating anger,
not so better managed
with ballistics
should you learn this golden gymnast rule ballastics
of Earth’s yummy rich fed gardeners.
What might we do yet together
if those first two years of school
our teachers taught Make Love Not War
just like MultiCulturing Golden Rules?
Which one is pathological propoganda
and which is nutritional health enculturation?
Slice and Dicey EcoFeminists
We could invite many ways
to slice and dice the prism
EcoFeminist.
I first ran into this label
when spoken by a sexual advocate
in the early 70s
at the University of Michigan,
from the mouth of a transgendering ecofeminist
who felt more matriotic about land and people and plants
than patriotic about a nation and state
whose laws,
and the paternalistic parents of those laws,
declare s/he had no right to exist,
certainly not propogate.
No right to love
whom s/he loved
in her proud
and loyal
and honorable
and grateful ecofeminist way.
I can more dimly hear ecofeminist
as an ecologist
who happens to also be a feminist,
but this lacks sufficient resonance and resolution for me.
I can hear ecofeminist
as feminist
who also happens to know about her/his natural environment
and yet this planet inspires feelings of fertile interdependence
as healthy
and would better expire laws of nature
devoid of wealthy co-relationship,
wherein human nature
stands godlike patriarchal and supremely above
our agribusinesses of generic commodified nature
to declare humane wealth
measured only by this quarter’s productivity
intended to leave all fields and forests and oceans barren
before moving on
to our next hostile ecopolitical takeover.
To me,
fully articulating my ecofeminist heart and mind
cannot separate this scientist of Earth’s biosystems
from our fertile-loving nurturance of health,
our most abundant echoing and regenerating cross-trained selves.
EcoFeminists
fade and fail when personal health outcomes
are depoliticized from national and international lands and oceans,
as well as removed from local and bioregional wealth production,
without co-balancing healthy educational consumption.
Feminist ecologists
abundantly cooperatize, optimize,
when personal health ownership reflects our land and water,
fire and wind wealth of ecosystemic
economic
co-investing balance.
EcoFeminists
are radical cooperativists,
singers and dancers and self-entertainers,
planters as harvesters,
birthers before butcherers,
listeners before performers,
speakers
doers
seekers
learners and educators,
parents and mentors,
because this is who we were all born to become
to-gathering ecofeminists.
Our schools,
from preK through post-doctorate,
technical conservation through liberal arts and entertainment,
real estate through real organic wealth,
would each and all do a better job together
of nurturing and growing
and provisioning and providing ecofeminist leaders
if educational curricula
were more permaculturally designed
with ecofeminist divas in the rooms
and in the fields,
and on the seas and rivers,
and not so over infested with unnatural lawyers
who believe our vocations
are to settle for Win some secular health
by losing some sacred wealth,
to teach us why we must not healthy do
as we would most wealthily,
holistically,
cooperatively,
sacredly prefer.
I want to think and feel as a grateful ecofeminist of grace
at school
and church
and mosque
and voting booth
for whom health and wealth
smell and feel and talk together
like Yin reweaving Yang
in co-ecofeminist solidarity,
deep learning regenerations
of (0)Sum
WinWin producing YangSpace
as also consuming Yin PrismedTime.
——————————————
Neither ecofeminist educators
nor prisms
could wisely argue
about which lens is most correctly primal
or (0)-prime best.
Healthiest is cooperatively wealthiest
with us all holonic,
Yang sending as Yin receiving
simultaneously WinWin.
Which is the Greatest God of All?
disputes do not emerge from prisms,
rather prisons and schools
and bad faith communities
and fake news communications
of retributive WinLose monopolies
devolving toward LoseLose anti-systemic theories
and nihilistic hypotheses
filling in
until our return to restorative mercies and joys
conjoining EcoFeminist Gaian Principles and Procedures
toward more polyculturing prismatic outcomes
of deep
and rich
and wide nutrition,
health optimizing wealth,
planting seeds of wisdom as we have always eco-harvested.
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.
Social Climbing Jacob’s Ladder
I wrestle with against vulnerable boundaries
to invasive intimacy,
left unlanguaged yet right felt dismay
could not sustainably remain
without being said outloudlyish
in some bicameral bilateral bipolar balancing brainiac
polypathically left merely cooperationalizing,
creolizing Sacred Elders feeling self-righteous
matriarchal nutritionisms,
spiritual and diminished secular scientissues
falling failing OtherWise,
hypothetical proofs of co-incidence.
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Not not coincidentally here.
I wish.
Go notnot away.
Where dissonance grows troubling
such dismay’s source is left label searched for
within economic causes
secular with sacred ecological effects
to become biologically expected
in and through bilateral regenerational returns,
depending on the faith systemic word choices preferred
by All EarthLives Matter
sacred ecosystemic recoverers,
co-listening
deep mutual learners
comfortable in tranquil ponds
of lucid equal harmonies
ringing double-boundaries
singing
winging
flinging not here not now
invisible hypotheses
of Zero-Core bicameral bilaterality.
Rich loving mentors,
teachers,
but please,
not another preacher
of cognitive patriotism
against affective ecofeminist intuitive self-defense
began against
lunar-scheduled matriotism,
offense against solar Yanger
wanger
bangers,
Pi to pay
the multiculturing pipers,
ecofitters,
multiculturing quilters
and organic happy, sometimes a little high,
farmers
of antiquity,
herstoric myth tellers
and legend gossips
and polypathic paradigming architects
exforming evolutionary incarnations
as revolutionary reverse-notnot
evolutionary
yet as now appositionally bilateral
absence of cognitive-affective dissonant
boundaries of vulnerably echoing reiterative transparency,
both ego threat of rightwing dominant terrorism
and eco-opportunity,
left with right wing ego/eco-dominance
as positive psychology
and EarthTribe EcoJustice
complicated redisunprecovery
of often deep dense politics.
All about atomizing power
both/and wavey-linear flow.
Wherein we wrestle with,
but preferably not against,
vulnerable boundaries
about too invasive double-binding intimacy
left unlanguaged
yet right felt dismay
sung in
and through thin
diminished dissonance.
Same Ol’ Song and Dance
As I look back across my more musical times
of rhythmic reflections,
ceremonies and commemorations
of each dawn and dusk eremitic liturgies,
if that is not an oxymoron
of sound and sight,
song and dance,
tragically sad, yet also bilaterally bound with happier chance
of liturgical comedies
reflected upon together.
And as we look out through all our co-diva taoist days
like pages of leaves we have co-written,
we grow one primordial Tipping Point,
that we are each both tragic
and most abundantly comedic
when held together
through mutually revolutionary
Bodhisattva Warrior eco/ego-identity.
And,
with our ends held together,
what matters most
to and for and of all of us,
is when we have fed tragic
and where we have bled comedic
into the transparently naked (0)Remainder WinWin Othernest
as soon as therapeutically possible.
When was the last time
you turned to whomever, always present,
sitting next to your Leftsaid,
with at least one exclamation point,
That was totally Yang-awesome!
It might have been at the end of a song
heard for the first time
in a particularly deep and rich,
and possibly a bit also high,
way.
Or maybe during a dance
that was totally radical,
perfect to each beat
each lyrical swell and ebb
filled with athletic grace
of freakishly limber space
and centered
like a linear 4D pivot
we each potentially arcingly are
as we become this music’s dancing story,
beautifully
exquisitely reincarnating
us down
into your stage of life’s most recent crippling bow,
with tragic-comedy final statement,
tragedy of each end
with comedy of wonder
for each protagonist opera
in which our only antagonist
was perfect meeting of lyrically rhythmicizing here
with timeless now’s completely committed integrity
of ego/eco-consciousness
reweaving
Personal tragedy of missed integrity closes
to further comedies of dissonant clumsiness,
stumbles of feet and hands and mind
and pens
about dancing through life and death ourselves
as totally awesome
tragic-comedic ecopolitical choreography
with public sector lyrics
for what started out as a deeply personal
intimate
vulnerable liturgicalizing matriarchal-wombed life.
Or maybe Wow!
was when you were leaving church,
and mosque
and temple
and synagogue
and generic everyday BusinessAsUsual faith family,
smiling about
how to better dance
our mutual resonant opportunities,
to feed the juice
and starve the monoculturing weeds.
Wow! Totally awesome
love,
grace,
synergy,
creolization
Thanks for singing and dancing
and taking us to church
with you,
where we each belong
multiculturally YangHere with YinNow
bilateral balancing
and limber spiraling
together.
I awaken
to both the parent of special ecopolitical needs
and ecological opportunities,
but also the part-time Taoist hermit diva,
totally co-investing in WinWin liturgical planning,
each multiculturing day
within dawnspace harmonic singing Yang
through Yin dualdark
co-arising lyrics
with Bodhisattva EcoFeminist Warriors,
First Native International Cooperative Networks
each ego-anonymous
collegially remembering co-protagonists
of Earth’s tragic-comedic multiculturing sad despair
with silent democratic
solidarity
liturgically ecological matriotic
YangSong with WinWin dance,
here and also now
(0)Soul rhythms
of long slow stealthy blues as also green
balancing creolic outgoing choreography.
Antagonizing local people about their malingering protagonist rights,
their song as dance resources,
and their musically harmonic knowledge,
does not patriotically rest unchallenged.
Forest struggles
continue resisting buying and selling and renting of protagonist
song and dance forests,
including stories internal to India,
yet not in Asia alone.
Forest resacralizations resist secularizing diminishment
of forests for tragic exploitation
by patriarchalYang commodifying not (0)-interest profits,
and dipolar co-gravitating transubstantiation
from liturgically abundant ecological resources
for tragic song and comedic dance
back into a bad faith commodifying community.
Villagers sang and danced our tragic removal
demotion of rich ecoforests to mere positive productions
from notnot negatively dwindling reserves
asserting ego/eco-justice rights
to satisfy our basic
continuing together tragic-comedic needs.
Feeding critical tragedy for underdog lyrics
while bleeding sad danced systematic allegiances
against monocultural demands for fake-patriotistic choreographed events,
non-violent protests
were crushed by One Nation Don’t Mean First Nation,
cause I wasn’t born yesterday
or the day before that,
or before doing a really great job
of making more money
for some really good people
who just got caught up in the right place
in my best time
Trump,
among the USA evangelical faithful;
as crushed by British colonialism,
among Central Asian Bodhisattva ReForesters
and Eastern American First Nation PreForesters.
In the Himalayan mountain bioregion
the Chipko women’s movement
began liturgically embracing living MotherTrees
as their protectors,
their own source
of food
and fuel
and fiber
and fertile habitat.
The Onandaga First Nation School
reimagined how children might non-violently speak and move
their dawn hugged liturgies to remember alleged thanksgivings
for MotherTrees,
their hugs
hugging ours in music and danced liturgies
of Earth-allegiance gratitude,
basic positive cooperative
matriarchal song and dance
with Tipping Points
of taoist divas
dipolar co-arising
(0)-soul long slower bluesy terms
of jazz rhythmic
creolizing
song as dancing attitude.
As I look back across more musical times
of rhythmic reflection,
allegiance ceremonies and gratitude commemorations
of each dawn and dusk danced liturgy,
I look forward too.
Voraciously Reading Writers
Hey!
Who?
Me?
Yes!
Do you remember back
when you were reading The Human Comedy
and thinking you would always live on a planet
where a few great writers
lived royally and with vast wealth
comfortably above yet among the huddled hungry masses
just waiting to buy your supremely great literature words
of eternal wisdom
and Pulitzer Poetry Prizes?
If you mean
Do I remember when most people did not daily,
or even monthly, write,
much less self-publish,
while only a select few
were gainfully employed as full-time writers
of scripts
and screenplays
and contracts
and constitutions
and poetry
and stories
and parables
and even designs
for polycultural healthy outcomes–
Yes, I do,
or did,
or whatever it was we both noticed
about ratios of democratic readers
to plutocratic writers.
Well,
I went on WordPress
this morning,
thinking I would read the democratic plutocrats first,
then probably add my own commentary
on my blogsite
when done with reading others.
And you can’t read that fast,
can you?
Exactly.
Now all the democrats are writing
and cooperatively self-publishing
and my dreams of becoming a plutocratic writer
have drowned in a sea of voices
in which there is no longer sufficient time
to hear each other out
before also entering something in.
So what’s your big take away
for this revolutionary turnaround
in now democratically growing co-investments
in broadcast writing
and emerging plutocratic readers?
Would-be writers
but we no longer live
in or on a RealTime 4D publish or perish world.
Right.
Now its publish,
no one bothers to read,
and perish
while still cloud-published
perhaps eternally, somehow,
with no one bothering to open
a closed for self-publishing mind.
Flag Waving Challenges
Dearest,
you men are too much alike.
You confuse
your flag waving patriotism
with what you really want,
our indivisibility, unless you say otherwise,
our thoroughly domesticated liberties,
our matriotic climaxing justice
and compassion
and mercy
and therapy for all your most fragile male
egocentric flag waving patriotic needs
for unquestioned loyalty,
right or wrong,
you own my everything.
You are self-sanctified and jealous gods.
I know nothing about that.
We learned nothing about matriotic cooperative economics at Wharton.
I’m doing a really good job
of remembering where I thought we were talking about.
As anti-patriotic
equals anti-MightySupremacist USA
in a WinLose ecopolitically quasi-rich,
yet not too rich to be a bitch,
incorporation for growing short-term political wealth
of debt by robbing future generations
of long-term economic and ecological health.
Someone has to pay
the Great PiperLine of Perpetual Economic Predation,
better our grandchildren
than us,
wouldn’t you agree?
Not at all.
But I do agree that patriotism
is less about iconic flag waving
and more about grateful co-pledged commitments
for which flags stand,
One First Native BioRegion,
indivisible,
with liberty
and ecojustice
for All.
We’re doing a great job
of reducing patriotism
to loyalty by tests assessed belligerent
through body positions
and tone of voice.
But then authentic patriotism,
rather than fake strains,
is most associated
with the position of minds and hearts
of sacred patriarchs and matriarchs
of all species
through all (0)Sum spacetime,
RealTime
4D fractal,
double-binary bonding octaves
spiral soul of health
as sacred wealth
trends and co-relations.
Perhaps I misunderstand.
You don’t say that enough.
This patriotism you support
is assessed
by our national indivisibility,
and freedom and justice outcomes
equitable across all cultures
and species
and genders
and genetics
and regenerativity ourselves?
And all integrated time
both RightWing traditionally backward
and LeftLeaning progressively forward.
Real eco-patriotic time
right and left now
about which you are absolutely rightwing off target,
concluding First Nation has not the first (0)Soul cooperative clue.
Dear,
you women are too much alike.
You confuse
your First Nation waving matriotism
with what you really want.
Which is alpha through omega multi-nations
eco-waving Earth’s therapeutic matriotic integrity.
Integrity
outscores patriotism?
Every both here and now spacetime.
I Pledge Gratitude’s Revolution
I pledge FirstNative gratitude
for unfederated,
unmitigated
positive local through global
regenerative attitude.
I pledge gratitude to this Sun
and EarthMothers
from whom we come
into trusting democratic wombs
and eggs
and seeds
for which these continue to revolve life’s harmonic ecology,
one uniting species MotherTree of Life through Death
under and planted within God
as Gaian Goddess Principle
of ReForestry,
between glacial deforesting climates,
indivisibly polypathic,
with regenerative liberty
and authoritative egohealthy wealth of ecojustice
with
and of
and for
and from All EarthLives Matter.
I pledge gratitude
for unmitigated
positive local
as global cooperative
trusting attitude.
The SpeechWriter
Not too many decades out of college
I finally landed my first full-time job,
as a White House speech writer.
I know,
you would expect
I would not start at the top
and then claw
and grab
and snatch my way to the less immoral bottom
of a Certified EcoTherapist career ladder,
but apparently the President preferred
to abuse and neglect someone with no more public sector experience
than he had accumulated to this sorry state
of deforesting a nation’s wealth,
and I was clearly the least experienced applicant
who bothered to desperately apply
for a patently thankless job.
I was broke
and I thought perhaps I might wrestle a Presidential Pardon
for my therapeutic student load of toxic debt.
My first assignment
was a ten minute stand up comedy piece
to be delivered to the Press Club
by the least good humored non-politician
I had yet to meet
in ludicrously self-incorporated personage.
To my amazement
he did not stray off teleprompter
more than on
and did acquiesce to my suggestion
he could only be funny,
rather than tragic,
as a cross-dresser
who had simply forgotten to change
before leaving his rompish bedroom,
thereby transposing
his deadly public sector lack
of comedic hopelessness experience.
He chose a pastel blue chiffon maid’s uniform,
a Big and Beautiful Girl’s minidress
with matronly white apron
all gathered at the waist,
or at least doing its best
under stressfilled circumstances.
Where he found the fishnet stockings
with seams intended to aim straight up and down
the back of his hairless white calves,
I should not say.
But his seams tended to wander off to his dominant right,
should there actually be such a lonely place
as a gratefully suppressed left
in the mercifully unseen forest
of his meaty thighs.
While I couldn’t see
his party platform pumps
on EarthTribe network coverage,
I later heard this was not by accident
and I should feel fortunate
to have avoided fascinated allegiance
to their ruby red,
scuffed white,
and sky smoky blueness.
After pandemonium subsided
he began:
Under-dressed ecofeminists
and junk-brained gentlemen
of the fake press,
thanks so much for this utterly predictable
and distressing invitation
to speak over your heads tonight
about the profound merits
of New Reactionary Republican
reproductive resonance
and replete regenesis
of religious right remains right,
although sometimes a bit tight
around my rapidly expanding middle.
Leftist liberal libertines
like to quote that notorious drug addict
Janis Joplin:
Freedom
is just another word
for nothing left to lose.
Reactionary Republicans
have some of our own definitions
for new economic and old political values.
Justice
is another merciless word
for no one left of Jews.
Speaking of which,
isn’t my son-in-law
doing a great job
of being a quality not all that Jewish Republican?
And possibly the only Republican Jew
east of the Mississippi
and north of the still contested Mason-Dixon Line.
Although he is now trying to steal his sister-in-law’s gentile inheritance.
Let’s see.
Oh yes,
Peace
is just another word
for being between wars.
Patriotism
is just another word
for nationalistic loyalty test jargon
where all the supremacist lyrics
rhyme with juicy jism,
like monoculturalism
and racism
and sexism
and currently trendy anti-democratic totalitarianism,
where once resided MotherLand Libertines
cynically quoting Janis Joplin.
Liberty
is just another word
for nothing left worth stealing,
and grabbing,
and snatching,
and rubbing up against,
and preferably eating, eventually.
Virtue
is just another word
for robbing integrity
from future generations because,
as my Elders taught me,
it’s better virtuous us
then plundered them.
And,
last and maybe least,
love
is just another word
for nothing left to hate
and monger fear about
at least until my next election,
another corporate raid on pubic sector treasures.
Thanks so much
and may God bless the sacred FatherLand.
gdill52 