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Climate Health Marching

Marching and dancing and singing
in and of and for healthy climates
regenerating wealthy landscapes,
ideally coming together,
like masturbating in pubic,
but subtly, and trans-genderally clothed,
only on the inside as if outside,
cuming together as one new multicultural regenerator march.

Sexy strutting marchers
but with opulent simplicity
remixing mindbody co-arisings,
with polyculturing health-wealth
resonating perpetual just-right foreplay climates,
then simulcasting decomposing re-investments,
of and for self and other
cooperatively,
and sacredly,
internally as externally,
perpetuating our collective climax fertility.

Climate marchers that cum together
spray cooperative ownership and mutual-governance
to gather future generations of climate-healthy marchers
as public,
yet resonantly private,
master incubators.

This liturgy of sexy climate marching
grows room and spaces,
folds and places,
for both sad becomings into ego-loss,
making more room to commence with singing glad
being Earth’s echoing climax
of zero-sum eco-gain,
rhythmed not sin to sin,
but Win to Win further healthing days
and fertile nights.

My climate march
begins at midnight
with sad responsive songs of dualdark longing
to be rid of depressing competitive pathologies,
then rise with dawning trusted landscapes
to greet this new EarthDay,
to sing and dance and march
with glorious cuming resonant echoes
shimmering through Earth’s capital domes and turrets,
until we ring together
West and East
Left and Right
Yang and Yin
in perpetually resonating climax.

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Maturing Up Together

When you hear justice
do you also listen for responsive mercy?
Or are you more likely to feel merciless revenge
against uncivilized behavior
swelling vibrant adrenaline
baptizing your self-righteous bloodstream?

If revenge is your best defense
against chaotic complexities of anti-social behavior,
If punitive humiliation is this justice you would mentor,
live by,
protect,
then you will be an often disappointed,
and disappointingly ineffective,
parent,
and would best stay far away
from anything in law enforcement
and civil defense,
and gun permits.

Advocates and defenders of justice for all
are deep lovers of intentions and behaviors
positive humored
seeking their notnot negative unbalancing
of empty cleansing rituals including Society’s ecopolitical liturgies,
obsessive-compulsive demoralizing ruminations,
ruinations,
ramblings and echoes of great and small climatic transitions
quaking Earth’s moral imagination
steeped in Anthro cultures and histories,
kind and not-unkind.

Justice without mercy
is like reactivating love without peace,
like trying to actually mentor love
without internal and interdependent contentment
that we are in this life together,
all both guilty and innocent of most everything one might imagine,
until we fall apart
to reweave yet another new day,
with notnot strictured Elder shadows,
mercifully thrown together
as not-not fully grown regenerates.

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Junk Mail Again

Wow, look, we can save $500!

I wonder how much we must invest
to generate such savings.

Oh, I see.
We need only buy a new or used car,
which, of course, as everyone knows,
is something that we truly truly need,
like a thneed.
Yet another car or truck
to insure and register and feed full of fuel
and maintain and repair.

And don’t forget those exhaustive system screenings
to be sure you are not doing more than your fair share
to poison our over-exhausted and under-fed air.

Seems like too high a price to save so little.
I think we shall pass
on this less than overwhelming offer.

What’s next?
Oh yes, the cell phone bill.
I wonder how they will help us save money this month.
I could use a direct line to God
about all this junk mail
and these bills
for services not so generously,
or even cooperatively, delivered.

I could save a lot of money
by not talking to anyone
and not going anywhere,
although I could not swear I have been going from here to there
for quite some time now,
and I could confine my thirsts to tap water,
which does not cost so awfully much
compared to cell phone liquidity.

But, to really save time and money
I would make a long-term commitment
to this reclusive lifestyle,
and downsize to an old geezer tricycle
with a cargo basket on the front,
and a Slow Moving Vehicle sign strapped onto my back.

Children going by would suspect me of false advertising:
Mom, look, he isn’t moving at all.
Is he for target practice?…
Oh Mom, how could you possibly have missed him,
you drove right by,
his cap still flies,
carried by the wind
of our cadillac of sales.

Yet false advertising has itself become culturally addictive.
So much easier than owning up to what we really have to bargain-basement sell.
Which is nothing, I think?

Mom, shouldn’t he be wearing black?
And shouldn’t he have a long straggling grey beard
and black brimmed hat
and not that University of Michigan ball cap.
That’s not right at all,
that whole situation of maladaptive addiction.
Better call the police,
the crazies got off pathology’s reservations again.

I suppose it would be maladaptively psycho
to save all that much money,
and for what new or better fed addictions?
A person can only eat so much ice cream
without developing permanent runs,
and what else would I want to buy
with all that saved up money?

Regardless, to really really save money and time
it would help so much to know what for,
to what other alternative investments.

Divestments of habitual climate challenging addictions,
like anger management,
require much less raw will power-over
short-term thinking ego’s autonomic habits
of mind and body,
when floating in new rivers of healthier adaptations
to Earth’s resonant climatic opportunities
with ever greater power-with warmth,
invitation,
grace resetting kosmic karma’s sights
from addiction within culture’s BusinessAsUsual pathologies
in favor of Earth’s felt and believed
beautiful polypathic truths
of timeless climate health,
yin within as yang without,
anima’s spirited love-invoking
animus vestments
of co-incorporated ecopolitical power.

Oh yes, I know,
let me fully invest in a new Recreational Vehicle
to drive and fly away from all this savings
of self and other and Earth,
never planning to return to this asceticism
without aesthetics of co-invested,
though curiously humored, pilgrims.

Looking for ever renewing ways
to save $500.

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MultiLiturgical Dance

Black PolyCultural convex yang position:

Dominant uracil-form OVER/WITH cytosine dipolar equivalent
White Mono/BiLateral temporal-concave yin-squared fractal-function position:

eco-samba Zero/YHWH/SunGod/dess ReGeneration
of MythicCulture Climate Costumes.

Members of this polychoral body
do our optimally Golden best we can
to ratio and elixir
to truth with beauty
to rhythm and soul-blues choreograph
to yang-meet and yin-greet all Others divinely/humanely half-way
in-between shared Tao (0)-Core
PolyPathic balanced-harmonic full-octave
ergodic-regenerate mindbody’s BiCameral DanceGroup,
co-presently featuring WinWin Gaming Design
in and with and of and for your/our ReligiousCulture Center.

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Multicultural Political Health Design

I have had a highly redundant,
one might even choose polypathic,
graduate studies experience
spanning my adult life to date.

This began with a semester of Philosophy.
Just enough to learn I wanted something more experiential,
a more communitarian environment of Applied Metaphysics, perhaps.

So then I began, and soon completed, studies for the Master of Divinity degree,
which has an arcane ring to it,
but basically the title implies just the opposite of what degree candidates most hope for,
to be Mastered by Divine Love,
to economically and politically operate as an icon of all-inclusive ecological love.

Those receiving the M.Div.
hoped to apply their ecopolitical science of empathic trust,
our mutual Basic Attendance,
to life as liturgical theology
or at least teleologically benign song and dance;
to be the love today we proclaim for tomorrow,
rooted in our humane-divine nondual nature-spirit compost
of ecopolitical peace-integrity with justice-truth becoming;
pilgrimage,
The Ways of Divinity,
co-mastering together.

Fortunately,
when I landed in a rural Colorado parish,
the beat-down aging poor mutually-marginalizing Mexican and Anglo faith community
invited me to reconsider further investment in administering sacraments
disconnected from ecopolitically healthy outcomes of empathic trust.
To continue as individuals,
families,
and as a multiculturally rich community
of mutually holonic,
respected,
cooperative,
trusting co-empathic faith,
we needed more of a Total Makeover,
a gut rehab,
an economic design to fuel our continuing collective political incarnation
into this Beloved Therapeutic EcoPolitical Community
we each long to belong within,
as integrity without.

Responding to apparent hope for stronger organizing
and planning
and budgeting
and ecopolitical design and implementation,
and evaluation and socioeconomic change skills,
I accepted an invitation into a double Master of Public Administration and Community [Economic] Development degree program,
primarily taught by PhDs in Political Science;
my first among too many loves as an undergraduate at Michigan.

Here I learned, once again, that politically correct administration of empathic trusting,
sometimes mistrusting,
and even actively distrusting totalitarian political relationships
historically and culturally thrive
when “follow economic wealth”
also means “responsibly invite multicultural political as personal health”
internally economic as externally political,
nondual internal-external co-arising ecological landscapes of nutrition.

Humane ecopolitical landscapes are ruled by active hope
and cooperative potential within
as divinely landscaped multicultural ecology without,
polypathic faith in love’s synergetic trust
and discovery
and curious regenerativity of enlightening imagination.

The U.S. Declaration of interdependent Independence and Constitution were born of Enlightenment CoOperative EcoPolitics.

Applied ecopolitical science looked a great deal like applied theology,
or at least teleology, healthy purpose, therapeutic cultural meaning.
Democracy develops fragrant discernment through co-empathic multicultural trust,
moving toward inclusive resonant resolutions of complexly interdependent ecopolitical issues,
risks,
opportunities,
social investments and historical-cultural divestments,
intending improved climate health
and less climates of pathology,
whether too hyperactively warm
or too near to flat-line fading into freezing despair.

My issues with effectively developing ecopolitical health,
by suppressing dis-ecological pathologies,
past failures of achieving a truly multiculturally abundant history of sustainable healthy climates,
soon led to confusion about a great cultural divide
between two vocational labels:
1. Political Scientist, and
2. Permacultural Designer.

This great cultural divide appeared front and center
more recently when I became certified as a Permaculture Designer.
It helped me to look more carefully at the functional intent of “political”
as compared to “permacultural” outcome goals and use-of-power objectives.
As I thought more about how our normal day-to-day scientific investment in learning about power includes learning primal differences between multicultural designs
and monocultural monopolies of totalitarian mistrust leaning toward distrust chaos,
dissonance,
then polypathic confluence of design and pattern correlations emerge as the compost,
the food,
the fodder of our ecological as ecopolitical learning enterprise.

“Permaculture” was chosen to distinguish perennially designed
and democratically self-governing landscapes
from more traditional annual economies of “Agriculture” business,
with more of a replant, spray, and harvest of chemically treated quasi-edibles,
nutritionally malignant regarding fertile health of Earth’s soil,
leading to well-established suboptimal health-trends of ecopolitical Business As Usual.

Permaculture designs are for and on and about and composed of information rooted in past positive polyculturally balanced community landscape outcomes.
These polyculturing ecopolitical landscapes began as maps of nurturing health plans for exteriors only,
like gardens and farms and river banks.
But, this organic economic and political view of power-with ecological balancing climates
has moved from exterior to increasingly interior ecopolitical health landscapes,
like bicameral full-octave nature-spirit nondual deep learning healthy multicultural mindbody landscapes, dialogues, stories, evolutions.

A political power relationship of healthy nutritional economic/ecologic design
pulls together the implied normativity of Political Sciences comparing unhealthy totalitarian powers producing outcomes of mayhem and terror
to democracies intended to nurture co-empathic cooperative trust.
If designers using permacultural ecopolitical principles and procedures for healthier polycultural climates,
then we are also scientists exploring transactional-relational nutrient-power principles
and investment/divestment procedures for sustaining multicultural health designs and sustaining power-with development,
co-investment in planning,
and harvesting health outcomes rooted in (0)-sum Earth-centric climates
of polypathic ecopolitical health.

Permaculture Design Certification more or less brings me back full circle,
where graceful articulation of applied metaphysics
invites active,
relentless pursuit of ecopolitical deep learning
mutually cooperative faith communities
within bicameral heart and lungs and brain and guts and limbs and genetic roots
as cooperative Beloved Communities incarnating together without.

People of radically cooperative faith,
profound empathic ecopolitical trust,
ask what and whom you believe WITH,
while those of a more fundamentalist-exclusive faith,
including active mistrusts of alien faith systems as more or less idolatrous,
ask what and whom you believe IN.

If you believe in evolutionary cosmological processes
that you do not believe also believe in you,
cooperatively together,
then you are less likely to achieve healthy nutritional ecopolitically sustainable outcomes,
while you are waiting for SomeOne Other
to grace you with His Transcendent truth-beauty presence.

If you believe with processes of ecosystemic health,
then you have joined the evolutionary permacultural partisans of healthy regenesis,
wherein lies all evidence of creation,
rather than nihilistic monocultural nothing.
Then again, you might conceivably believe in both,
which is a highly polypathic wu wei pilgrimage–
a razor’s edge teleology of enculturing history.

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EarthTribe Sanctuary

Bird chatter echoes mutual greetings
psalms reciting Other’s praising morning light
promising their co-enrapture of return
before light fades to dusk this night.

Birds echo cathedrals of tree majestic chatter,
underflight of bees and insect buzz growing conjoined refrain
evening’s glad sung massive eulogy
consecrates this flying day’s compline,
grace delight.

Liturgy of Earth flight song
echoes through shattering light,
entering as exiting each shared dark mythic night.

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Great Transitional Liturgy

Creativity opens doors to learning
to read our own, and others’, compelling literacy,
beautiful truths.

We are not an isolated supreme species creating nihilism,
self-serving egoists;
or, rather, we are,
but within an open sesame systemic potential
for also becoming more grace-filled cooperative,
endo with eccto symbiotic evolutionaries,
learning to read nature’s enspirited dynamic scriptures,
dialects,
to hear Earth’s celebratory and climatic voices,
warning and blessings,
economic transactions as politically synergetic v . oppressive relationships,
healthy thru anemic thru pathological,
inviting our globally beloved future together,
creative ecological development
within our interior learning landscapes,
celebrating harmonic alliterative balance and proportions
of rhyming reasons
seasons of external landscape’s exquisitely regenerative literature
hearing truth of grace.

Internally inbred nihilists
would fill in for a feckless god of terrorism,
while externally listening evolutionists
discover Great Transitional literature
in Earth’s dialects of praise,
operatic fear and wonder,
musical comedies of dancing birdsong
flying whistling waves of oxygen,
silent streams of grace overhead,
memories of synchronic schools,
swimming mindleaps and bodythrusts
flowing thru wet historic hydraulics,
racing thru bilateral Time’s sacred copresent rhythms
of sounding bounding light without,
absorbing nondual dark learning creative compost
within each of EarthTribe’s deep learning systems.

Love, like Allah,
emerges a co-creative verb
fertilizing beautiful re-nouns.
Literature, scripture, life’s recreation stories
evolve emergent between embryonic Elder origins
and final decomposing bows
of densely resonant Namaste.

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Dark Bears : Buzzing RedLight Bees

Honey Bear,
I would like to say goodbye
and would appreciate your reply.

Where are you going?

I am going to sing farewell
before my minute hand wears out.

Already,
yet I hoped you might first learn
to dance hello.

Yes, so I too presumed,
yet in epiphanies of dawn’s delight
dancing hello toward Earth’s light
follows learning to sing night’s lullaby
enduring dusks darkening evaporation
of bright transparent regeneration.

I would like to sing farewell
not sure whether we will ever find time
for another healthy hello,
good mourning death’s surprising pass
right through our daily hello-goodbye liturgies
of BusinessAsUsual love.

Just once before either of us further dies
and lies within Earth’s sacred skin,
I would like us to learn to sing farewell
to our dusky love’s evaporating celebration,
multicolored disincarnation,
wildflower struggling together dissonance
within Earth’s MultiTribal Solidarity.

With this pearl of our shared memory
how much brighter next time’s dawn.

Better than whole wheat pancakes
with strawberries
and butter
and maple syrup springs
of wildflower birdsong?

Breaking night time’s fast
with love’s echoing farewell lullaby
warming daylight’s first embryonic memory,
spreading farewell liturgies
like warm butter
throughout love’s remembering twilight day.

You would have your farewell pearl
with breakfast too.

I would sing farewell
not knowing we will have another day
to dance our hellos of gratitude
for love syrup warmly given
exchanged
transforming sacred memories
of EarthTribe’s struggling mutual light within,
dancing and singing tender humored
and raving raven memories
fading back to our first eyes greeting.

You were redhead magnificent
and bright as nuclear light,
yet not sure you had enough to share
with all my dark bear ways.

And you still growl your raw reviews
about light’s honey lacking as yours and ours
and cubs who have never learned to dance
a dignified hello
much less sing a well-timed farewell lullaby,
softly fading into some other household’s light
of their own healthy making.

Stars have never sung the same
since they first twinkled through your RedLight hungry eyes.

Moon heart glows full color harmonics
to know your quiet delight,
teasing might,
sharing your monopoly of wild investments
in GrandMothers’ flowing afrocultured kinda’ light.
Too seldom has sailed
our full octave light and dualdark racing pilgrimage
through transgenerational childhood brights and fights,
embracing dawns,
effacing darks together.

Honey Bee,
I love to sing farewell struggling harmony
while slow dancing our mutually gratuitous hello-farewell,
folding to unfold eco-memory flying
YangBear/YinBee soul-honeydancing,
Tipping PolyPoints of Light/DualDark MindBody.

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Sabbath Playgrounds

Sunday afternoons,
or Saturday afternoons,
look and feel richer,
dense relational liturgy of mundane ritual,
often more sabbath quiet.

Quiet neighborhood school playground
celebrates more solitary visits
seeking co-sensory quiet selftalk,
muse swings back and forth,
happy slides up elational,
processional,
then downright ecstatic.

Sunday’s GratitudeGoRound
of a warm winter’s sun
pretexting Spring’s co-redemptive dance,
prancing across jungle gyms
of mythic pirate romance,
swinging Tarzans and Janes
flying rope to rope
bar to bar
beating outdoor kettle drums
of Sunday’s sacred playground joy.

This light we bring to sabbath,
Sunday’s sun absorbs full resolved through co-play,
a child again
in love’s sequestered Solar Systemic womb
giving happy birth to weeks
becoming strong,

EarthBound
PlayGround
diastatic BeLoved Queen Shabbat’s
weekly baptism in love’s regenerativity.

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February Winds

Sunday morning
time for sabbath sacraments.

He steps out into a gusty wind,
some fat splattering sweeps of raindrops
falling across his porch roof
on down through the roaring river valley,
forcing, then ebbing
storm of February wind with rain,
a wondrous primal pair,
he adores.

The birds have started liturgical dance
and songs of ritual and regeneration
without him.
Already flying up in quick dives of floating play
with speaking time,
singing back to Brother Wind
howling on his way.

Calling, chanting cantors, conjoining
swelling sacred song of anti-gravity
for co-arising blissful sweeps of sound,
karmic atmosphere swirling time-rich
sacred rites across his house-bound skin.

Sound of incense sweeps down his river,
north to south with warmer hopes and economic intentions,
reminding it was his time for political baptism.

She incanted from the bathtub
in short gusts of warm blast enculturation,
joining his internal gospel choir,
chirping her oppositional descant
challenging and prophesying and occupying
in full-voiced roar of need
as want
right now,
and seldom bothering a please,
much less a thanks
for caring as best he could
to hear her oppostional rhythms and patterns,
irritating flows of hard-blown breath
with attitude.

Storming and brewing
birds cheering rage in her brain
shouting at co-arising gravity
to blow another way
with her exegetical universe,
her way,
the only way
she can imagine
to function in a reverse and upside down
political world of unheard powerlessness
when inside
she can only find her loud-voiced demands
to turn life around,
spin this slippery wind of Earth
to blow in her right liturgical way.

Baptism completes this wind drenched requiem
of full-life as anti-death survival
to cooperate this week’s regenerate vocational intent
and ecopolitical practice.

She joins her dad
for one last look
through jaundiced eye
at drenching rain that could fly back
from whence it came
if only wiser timed to start this day.

Birds now pray their benedictions
quietly in wind-protected nests
while he listens to swollen postlude protest
against co-gravitating time,
uprooting old rooted systems
decayed for newer octave use
as compost fading into swaying trees
waving back to join upriver’s grace of windblown time,
and forth to rejoin downriver’s centering roots
through February’s purging Earth
decomposing dance.

He closes his door to time’s external grace
to watch a smile warmly cross her chronic face
like a gust of refreshing wind
through a rainy karmic life.

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