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EarthTribe’s Intimacy

Imagine
your segregated ego identity
becomes your primal sensory system
perennially aiming toward
0-Zone peak experiential integrity

Intimately aware
all humane physical
and verbal touchers
and metaphysical
nonverbal feelers

Win/Win voiced teachers
and polytheistic out-reachers
ecologically surrounded
by sacred, living
lovely Earth’s health potential
for nurturing 1-Zone
environment-nurturing choices

Integral
polyculturally resilient
to more resonantly feel
multicultural health
and safer ego/ecosystemic wealth

1-EarthTribe/0-Ego co-binary
poly/mono-polistic
bicameral balance
toward Win/Win’s strategic
global/local wise integrity

Polytheistically sacred living
potential for resonant co-empathic health
and resiliently co-investing
in restoring peace felt
and justice touched

EarthTribe environmental 1-healthy
and neuro-systemic win/win 0-safety
co-empathic intention

Intimate intelligence
not resonantly shared
becomes at risk
of defensive fetid dogma,
colonizing anger and fear potential

Or fades away
giving sway
to further win/lose trauma

Where win/win creolization
had actively hoped
to co-intelligently play.

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Uncategorized

Housing Homeless Souls

Warm with camaraderie,
Filled with extending family eyes
kindly accessible as two-way inviting cameras,
Cooperatively good-humored, sometimes gently critical,
never intentionally mean or ugly,

A healthy communion home
can unravel
becoming an emotionally barren
silent
hidden asylum
for codependent inmates afraid of change,
serving one-way camera time
until someone
someplace better comes along,

Then sacred Earth becomes easier to see
filled with side by side homeless souls
too often becoming houseless bodies
feeling wanderlust
for pilgrimages belonging back to earliest weeks
of breast-fed codependent memories.

But, solidarity of deep educational intent
to learn and teach,
to experience and co-mentor
cooperative extended family communions,
warm bicameral communities,
peaceful healthy sanctuaries,
not mere small-ego claustrophobic silent silos,
can lead to growing healthy eco-homes
and eco-schools
and eco-villages
and eco-nations
amid multi-eco-cultures
built by loyal EarthTribe sacred communions
of everyday integrity enchantment,

Two-way, multi-wei, camaraderie,
co-operative well-being
rooted back in breast-fed humane/divine misty memories
matriarchal/patriarchal,
spirit/nature,
ego/eco-passions non-violently invited
and responsibly shared.

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Uncategorized

Rise Up Islamic Sisters

Rise up
my African Sisters
speak your truths
of intimacy and death
internal monopolizations of feeling desperately dark
suffocating
with hatred and fear and anger
about your man,
your brother
about your here and now lack of relationship.

Listen up
Islamic Sisters
to these Sisters of Perpetual Wisdom
of self-and-other emancipation:

Husband,
your intimacy and passions
fill me with emptiness and longing
rather than fertility and belonging.

Husband,
you treat your milk cows
and that lazy ass dog with all her pups
better than you treat me.

Brother,
your fascination with hatred
technologies of deadly anger,
your greed for Lose-Lose attention
and respect
replace your comprehension of dignity
and producing life-giving outcomes
to regenerate attention,
interest,
consciousness of positive values
within our ancient culture, spirit, religion,
passing forward to our children’s hope and faith
balancing life with death,
in cooperative favor and support
for this deep ecological love
of intimacy and respect
and mutual cooperative hospitality,
we call “Allah” together
co-messiahs
linked through time and space
of regenerating hope.

Sisters
speak your international
yet intimate truths
of good and evil
life and death
regeneration of abundantly warm feelings
and decompositional analysis
of where your young men go so astray
of what is Islamic-normative
to be fully human
to become a man
worthy of our Splendid Sisters.

Author’s note:

Perhaps it is just me, and, if so, then I am about to expose my embarrassingly remedial ignorance once again. But, ISIS and all the “Islamic” hatred and anger of which they have become iconic, feels like an overwhelmingly young to middle-aged male dominated late adolescent cultural gasp reacting against the comparative freedom and wisdom of  a cooperative and egalitarian society with emergent strong polycultural values, whether tribal, or nationally, or even religiously, labeled.

If so, then perhaps Islamic women will peacefully engage their own cooperative internal revolution, speaking honestly and bravely and truthfully to their brothers, even their husbands, but probably not their fathers. That could get a girl killed in some unfortunate places where Allah’s sense of inclusive faithfulness and solidarity as sacred Host feels climatically absent in this suffering time.

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Multiple Identity

My name is Jerry
what’s yours?

I asked of the bus driver
who insisted on not caring
enough to unveil his cherished identity.

My friend Eduardo
calls me Geraldo
since learning my certificate says Gerald,
but my parents always called me Jerry
and called Gerald when not-Jerry
was in considerable trouble.

So how I am identified
seems to say something, you see,
about the identifier
looking back at me.

But when I look in my mirror
I still see Jerry
anciently looking back at Gerald,
Geraldo,
Faggot!
Queer!
Sissy?
Honey,
Dad,
and me.

My name is Jerry,
what’s your name for me?

But the bus went on without me
just as I had expected,
not heading in my direction.

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Torch Song Eulogy

I have given up on us

because you gave up on us

before I ever came along.

 

You saw in me some hope

that maybe you were wrong

perhaps the human race could be redeemed

if just one

would take the time

to notice and care

that you are.

 

But I was not that one for you,

the one to see wealth

where you have it

rather than long to be fed

what is not yours to provide.

 

It breaks my heart to know

that I can’t fix yours.

I step into your absent space

and here I am without you

where I can only see you

as my fixer-upper.

 

I am afraid to be your only love

it feels too much to ask of me

to love you when you’ve never loved another.

Can you tell me why

you never cry

when I try to hurt you?

Can you tell me why you only cry

when I tell you that I want you?

 

But I can’t find you.

I had given up on me

before you ever came along.

 

I saw in you my last dark hope

that I could share myself

without running out

until our dying day.

We would never end

telling stories of now,

and then,

and why we never want this one to end.

We would look outside

in each other’s eyes

and see inside

through each other’s eyes.

It’s those parts under your skin

your mind

your heart

too weak for faith that I might care

and know you as you are.

 

And yet, you hope,

it lingers there,

ringed finger glow reflects,

where we grow hope

that’s positive;

so water it.

 

Rich warm compost hope emerges

from and for lost faith that love could be for us

to share

and from such diverse synergy

grow love for all who come to wear

our radiant worn-out rug.

 

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