Whoever said
Landlords have all the power
Knows that of which I speak:

Reading land leases.
Not a normal pastime,
but perhaps because
I have not read even one
written in compassion’s voice
and not retribution’s
self-empowering choice.

Thou shalt not
do anything
to attract
or pests.

No composting,
no vegetable gardening,
no careless garbage bags outside.
We retain the right to change our minds
without cause
or notice
about your little bird feeders too.

Vermin or pests.
Such choice of language
sounds King James Version jarring
denigrations of Old Testament
sinister degradation
I keep waiting for other pathogenic threats
like leprosy
to appear in these forbidding rental contracts.

And why vermin or pests?
Are there some vermin
royal white privileged landlords
wouldst not as well define
as pest?

Although I can think of pests
respectable people would not reference
as vermin–
or not into a live microphone
at Republican Conventions
for not least is best.

Why not rodents and insects?
Cause we know our landlords
are speaking pejoratively
of enterprising rats
and homey nesting mice
as disgustingly not nice.

if I were to put up bat houses
for those who would happily devour mosquitoes,
am I helping with this sacred anti-vermin cause
or offending golden contractual rules,
or both,

How refreshing it would be
to read
and reread
compassion-driven leases.

To find that Impossible Dream lease
where all creatures are respected
and everybody knows
to read
and write
and speak
and act
in cooperative WinWin
playing nice
rather than ragging
on flies and mice

As merely pestilent vermin
infesting a place
that used to have highest
and best punishing value.


Can’t Make You Stalk Me

Turn up the lights
Fold up the bed
Turn up those voices
outside my head
Lay out for me
Feed me with lies
Just hold me up, your patron saint
Do matronize me

‘Cause I can’t make you stalk me
if you won’t
You can’t make your mind think something
it don’t
Here in my light,
in these early hours
I will pick up my heart
and not feel your power
But I can’t, no I won’t
‘Cause I can’t make you stalk me,
when you don’t.

I’ll freeze my eyes,
then you won’t see
The heart you don’t feel
when you’re not holding me
Evening will come
and you’ll do what’s wrong
Just give me till then
to give up this song
And you could give up our wrong

‘Cause I can’t make you love us
if you won’t
You can’t make your mind feel something
it don’t
Here in our light,
in these late hours
I will pick up my heart
and I’ll feel our power
But I can’t, no I can’t
‘Cause I can’t make you stalk peace,
when you don’t.


With apologies to Allen Shamblin and Michael Reid who cooperatively wrote one of my favorite songs.


Dancing Through Thin Margins

There is an old and wise saying,
Take only what you need
and use everything you take.

We often consider the first part,
or at least make occasional stabs at simplicity,
but the last part is less frequently said
or thought about
as essential to healthy vulnerability.

If we don’t use everything we take
and have been given by others,
then we can be sure
we have been given, and perhaps taken,
more than we need.

Taking only what we need
sounds obvious and transparently ethical,
perhaps even aesthetic
in purity of harmonic intent,
yet more mysterious
and richer
and deeper
when we remember
that life itself,
and human life even evolving more so,
is lived in margins,
double-boundaried spaces,
seasons of growth and decay.

Earth’s marginal soul
is living soil and water,
surface wind and fire storms
and swells and ebbs.
RNA and DNA regenerate
on and within this thin biosystemic sphere
between atmosphere
and dead bedrock.

Life, as contrasted to not-life,
is a marginally placed process
of learning to take only what Earth offers
and gratefully using everything as cooperative gift.

Life derives from prehistoric photosynthesis
on Earth’s evolving and devolving synthesis
and revolving skin.
And our senses, all five,
each take what we need of this synthesis
to LeftBrain adapt
and RightBrain adopt
what our thin margin offers us
of and for a healthy simplicity
yet wealthy diversity
of synthesizing double-boundaried life through death.

Humane life is evolutionary
within Earth’s marginal organic boundaries
as we choose to use everything
our RNA and DNA Elders
have gracefully and phylogenically offered us
to swim and walk and fly
within Earth’s bountiful health boundaries.

Humanity defines what Earth has given
as marginally sufficient diversity
and is uniquely poised on a constant multicultural edge
to fully delineate,
know polypathic gratitude
for this polyphonic boundary grace,
to deeply digest
and warmly decompose
every sensory gift of Earth
we take in
through this vulnerable ride
between natural birth
and spiritual revolution,

Taking only what marginal wealth
we need
and using every double-boundaried health
we gratefully receive.


Redeemer Howl

Forgive me
for soundly sleeping while you silently weep,
for bold breathing while you belligerently wilt,
for heart beating strong and true
without you and yours,
dust fore-given free.

Challenge us
to never swim without you,
to always win to win rich blues,
love’s lusty inclusion,
heroic trust.

Relent me
for needing to win
on backs aching with loss
for balancing harmonic dross
while children drift to sea
sons and daughters without home
except hunger to live free.

Redeem me
with my up-front birth deposit
within a more nurturent wombing sea,
no choice specific to how I might be,
or not become,
a fairly well-fed lottery ticket
avoiding your draft for violence,
ballistic anger,
seasoning sorrow
for a tomorrow without rational hope
of better than today
or last,
with all those wished-for lasts before,
your chronic path through over-populated messages
that black
and brown
and red
and victimed,
and oppressed,
and unhealthy subliminal suppressed lives do not fucking matter,
poverty trends to eat our young
to digest in tumors of rich fat deposits
before children can leaven hope to ever fly together
through a deeper embracing ecology.

Know me,
your nature’s genetic parasite
afraid of my own absorption
within our regenetic forested wild
while I sleep
to the beat
of a defenseless child
born too soon for time’s enrapture,
born without face
that splatters through dull culture’s consciousness,
no matter
if some grow fatter
while flowers fade
and next year’s seeds cease speaking
within their silo tree,
while others climb her privileged branches
to grow free.

Free me,
from this relentless suboptimizing justice,
for placing lack of empathy
where surplus of antipathy
breathed and smoldered more honestly,
relentlessly burning warrior hearts
in passioned love with eco-we,
reclaiming corporate integrity for ego-me,
free from investing in slow death silence,
quiet laissez-faire mediocrity,
free to live Earth’s incubator nest
of webbing life,
time’s space to be,
letting go of life alone at sea
to invest in fear of death as we
becoming, reconnecting me to echo Earth’s harmonic frequency,
to cosmic jazz-dance solar light of free,
with power to feel your beat as me.


The World and the Shaman

Banish listening, and teachings end.
Between “Yes!” and “No!”
How much spectral difference is there?
Between “good” and “evil”
Is the difference not normally 50-50?
That which we fear
Is indeed to be feared;
That which we love
Is indeed to be beloved;
But, alas, distant, yet also at hand, is this dawn of awakening
toward loving to be loved as
fearlessly unafraid of Beloved Climax Community!

We merry-make today,
self-congratulate while sub-optimizing,
As if consistently absorbing redemptive nutrients,
As if playing Mountain Ruler in Springs redolent climax;
I alone am mildly wild with harvesting unemployment,
Like a new-born babe that cannot yet smile,
neither grasping at joy nor averting lost identity,
contention with dissonance is like one without a home.

History’s prevailing culture has enough and to spare,
But I am like one left out,
behind marginal invisible boundary,
my heart and mind must be that of comedy,
Being as muddled,
ambivalently equivalent,
nebulously coincident!

Left-brain dominator cultures are knowing, luminous,
strength self-fulfilling and prophesying futures;
I alone am dull, confused, equivalent.

Egocentric culture is clever, self-assured;
I alone, depressed, repressed, suppressed,
impressed, pressed, pressing, birthing.
Patient as the sea,
Adrift, seemingly aimless tipping points.

We all have purposed meaning,
teleological ecological faith;
I alone appear stubborn and irrelevantly uncouth.
I appear to differ from SuperEgo Culture,
In optimally valuing succulent sustenance from Mother Earth,
universal natural systemic P=NP in-formation.


Note:¬†This is a paraphrase of an ancient Eastern shamanic psalm as written by Laotse, translated by Lin Yutang (Modern Library, 1948, pp. 128-9). While the “I” identity refers traditionally to the “Sage,” and functions within this piece as an effort to describe the shaman’s ambivalent role and responsibility, perhaps even authority, within the Beloved Community, my own word choices are at least partially the result of my own marginalized “outsider” and “observer” experience. At the same time, I am not claiming to have any more or less wisdom than those I actively listen to; which takes us back to the premise in the very first sentence of this piece..

P=NP is in partial response to a Clay Math challenge to resolve the issue as to whether rational and predictable Polynomial information trends either are, or are not, equivalent with Not-Polynomial irrational, chaotic irresolution of problems not resonantly resolved through any language algorithm, bionic pattern of rhythms, iconic symbols of linguistic reason and thought. I believe the answer is evolving toward P is equivalent to NP for the same reason of linguistic logic that a double negative contains¬†equivalent information to its appositional positive icon/polarity/nomial. If so, the negative correlational equivalance may also be the subject and object of David Bohm’s Explicate v. Implicate Order, Fuller’s Convex-Positive v. Concave-Negative geometric place/space, and Taoism’s Yang OVER Yin as essential universal binomiality.