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Death of Dreams

Our children must not die
before their parents
or parental dreams die with them.

And, for those without children,
this is easily empathized
because our dreams must not die
before we do.

Without them
our best selves have already left
whatever misery and boredom remains
for further degenerating absence of purpose.

As our own remaining children
step into young adulthood
wise parents often continue listening
for their dreams.

In this way,
as our own immortal dreams and fantasies fade,
younger dreams become our own extending future.

Here,
in the imperative parental vocation
of restoring therapeutic justice
and peace to dream love’s future,
is where I hear resounding
Millennial Generation Silence

Absence of healthy economic and political dreams
for healing over-heated competing climates
and landscapes.

Restoring inclusive predator and prey recycling justice
and healthy pre-recycling parenting
and dreams of timeless youth
all begin with loving to know Why?

If you have parented a healthy verbal two year old,
you may remember
these challenges of Why
and concomitant insufficiencies of time
to sufficiently reply
Why not?

Why do we dream in language
and icons of mythic sacred relationship?

Why do I dream
of a revolving Fallen Eden
evolving restorative forest-garden relationships,
sacred and secular Paradise Dreams
revisited
revised
rewinding
reweaving Millennial ReGeneration Dreams?

Healthy ecopolitical futures
still Yang with Yin eating from fruit trees
of Sacred Loving Dreams
and Secularized NonDual DarkDeath
we cooperatively own and appositionally manage
root systemically together

ReStorative Yang EdenSpace
with ReDistributive Flowing YinNurture Time–
spiraling bilateral timeless Mythic EcoLogosed Times
of and for PostMillennial Therapeutic Dreams
asking how and when
and cooperating where already
and why not?

A healthy parent
must not lose sacred-secular Dreams
or we all die dreamless forever,
retributing further anger
and fearing frustrating injustice
language and icons of unweaving Earth
fallen eternally to burn
for asking God WhyNot?

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Uncategorized

Tying Up The Second Coming

I was tying up her second shoe
when the second coming came.

The first had been the night before
when the bus demons dropped her off
to say they might be back
but weren’t exactly sure when,
while I tied up her second right foot shoe.

I asked her why she throws right shoes
and socks
and pants
and fairly stinky pullups
at the driver
and she tells me these are her second amendment rights
to blast or not
to throw or not
as she so whimsically pleases.

What shall I say
while tying up her second shoe
during this unexpected second coming
of her bus
to take her back to school?
Teaching through a culture of gratitude
where each personal right
also grows a political responsibility,
each right a gift of well-tied shoe gratitude
to be paid back with an avalanche
of positive attitude
for each unexpected second coming.

This second coming comes and goes
and I turn to my good news day
living in a sacred matriotic patriotic land
with property rights of responsible gratitude
owned right up to
but not extending past
the launch of MotherEarth’s second shoe
now flowing downriver
to tumultuous seas beyond all rights dominating FatherLands,
without waiting for this second shoe to drop
back toward any bus of positively responsible attitude.
Cultures of seasoned gratitudes
are also cultures of healthy wealth
for second comings
restoring matriarchal justice
overwhelming patriarchal retributive punishments,
reiterative angry rights
of First Shoe responsibilities
for freedom’s speech and active expression
with Second Shoe rights and responsibilities
of liberty’s gratitude
for restoring it’s original intent
carrying responsibility for protecting
this First Shoe’s positive gratitude potential
through responsible attention to this second coming time
to release MotherEarth’s second independent shoe
from further ballistic harms and fouls
and violent intent
to irresponsibly not address
a rightful culture of gratitude
for unexpected second comings,
as both feet,
right with left,
race together cooperatively gendered and re-aligned
for school
on her second coming bus.

Unfortunately,
I was still gratefully tying up her second amendment
gifted rights with pay-back cooperating responsibilities
of gratitude for all well-souled shoes
when the second coming left
without the rights
and responsibilities
of delivering my ballistically naked daughter
back to her well-schooled gratitude for rights
with concomitant responsibilities to and for each other
to never claim them in a way
that would deny their at-least-equal free
and safe
and healthy expression
to and with another.

Tomorrow morning,
there will be no second coming.
No need to tie up rights with responsibilities
for well-souled second shoes,
not intended for marching into militias
of revengeful angry justice
when schools enculture restorative mercies
for well-gifting forward second comings.

But,
that will be next Tuesday,
and right now we face a four day weekend
of restorational mercies
with both first and second grateful shoes
well-tied together, yet apart
rights restored first on right non-violent intent
with lefts for grateful second co-responsibilities
for never marching toward violence
where ballstage dancing to love’s anthems
is also gratefully offered
in home as school.
—————————————————–
Allegory wears an ecological precision
not intended,
yet implied,
here with now co-incidental,
cooperatively double-bound,
like seasonal reasons
for first grateful amendments first,
leaving second amendments
to restoratively readjust
responsibilities toward our first EarthTribe becoming
capable of cooperative speech
before and after all
through cultures of gratitude,

Multi-poly-enculturations of healthy-wealth amendments
all tied up in waiting
for our way too long delayed
first with second coming,
left exhausted then right more cooperatively becoming
untied at last together.

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Uncategorized

My Guardian Angel

I suppose,
as a pretentiously self-uberespecting Wise Elder,
I should be alpha-embarrassed to admit
my youngest son,
unable to speak or even sign,
unable to even successfully chew and swallow food,
unable to walk without warm-embraced assistance,
is also my guardian angel.

Without him
I would undoubtedly forget
each day and night
is a re-newing challenge
to laugh with others’ screeching terrors
and shared miseries of sobbing tragedy,
to listen patiently,
maintaining eye contact as best you can,
as long as necessary,
appearing to actually be interested and following,
or, even better,
actually become totally immersed in hearing
resonance and dissonance and timbre,
resolution and irresolution,
rhythm and patterns of song and dancing relationship
and absence of healthy co-relationship,
all before we speak,
or squawk,
as in the case of my guardian angel,

Who also occasionally graces us with shared laughter
about how silly we all are together,
or how great the front porch breeze feels
up against the birdsong.
My nearly egoless zero-sum WinWin mentor,
my youngest sacred graced perfection son.

How would I ever have survived his sister,
who is my Egyptian Princess AlphaPharoah BiPolar Bitch,
in a kind of a Nubian DiPolar Witchy Wu-Wei,
if you know what I mean.
Kind of like living with a five-year-old Donald Trump
if he were also a fifteen-year-old transexual
with bipolar oppositional bitch disorder.

I just read that to my guardian angel.
He didn’t think that was funny,
so I thought I would share it with you,
while he’s still listening,
in his guardian angel graced way.

We each take only what we yang and yin need
and do our best to cooperatively re-invest
all of it,
including the ecopolitical shit.

 

 

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Uncategorized

HolyGaia Spirits

I wonder if one human life
comes with opportunities to try again.

TimeLine Do-Overs.

I wish I could have taught my kids,
and my neighbors’ kids,
and your kids,
that the Holy Spirit is to Christianity
as the Gaia Hypothesis is to EarthJustice and Peace,
to Bodhisattva Warriors,
to secular humanist ecologist atheists,
to Taoists,
to Buddhists,
to the Original Tribes of holonic-organic animists,
nature-spirit nondual co-arising worshipers
of each sunrise,
each life as gift,
grace,
sacrament,
wonder and awe,
not quite so much competitive,
win some but eventually lose it all
shock and awe.

The Gaia Hypothesis
plays a WinWin dominant game
as a creolizing
matriarchal-patriarchal equivalent
co-messianic ecopolitical economy of co-redemption,
Works for me
as both Earth-regenerative natural process
and HolySpirit-cooperative spiritual progress.

There is indeed something childlike
inherent in this view of Gaia as Sacred WinWin Ecology,
perhaps in a Gregory Bateson sense,
shared DNA-RNA memories
of Mother’s sacredly nutritious embryonic womb,
when communication about mutual health care-giving and -receiving
required no LeftBrain words not yet learned,
and yet infant production and host consumption levels
across the double-boundary of womb and embryonic new life
balanced cooperatively co-empathic
or both would perish as one Gaia Spirit.

Everything I have learned about life in the real world
other than this Virginal Gaia Spiritual experience
of matriarchal nurturing flow
to maintain bilateral primal relationships,
has fallen a bit patriarchally short of my initial anticipation,
expectations of meeting others
originally baptized in polypathic Gaia Holiness Spirit
and not really needing to remind their kids
that our shared HolySpirit is to multiculturing religions
as the Gaia Hypothesis is to polyculturing healthier outcomes.

I wonder if I had planted this message back twenty years ago
might Gaia as HolySpirit
sound less hypothetical,
and more exegetical,
today.

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Uncategorized

Teaching Power

Teaching can feel depressingly predative
to younger minds
preferring to not evaporate while preyed upon.

Mentoring can feel more hopefully symbiotic
with younger,
fresher,
less domesticated minds
preferring to mutually stalk
shared prey of symbiotic and creolizing truths
between generations,
ancient to yet unborn.

Parenting can feel parasitic
to younger minds and bodies
ready to break free
of aging hosts,
relentlessly hoping
to pass along some semblance of grace
as gratitude
for Earth’s co-investing gifts.

Parenting could,
in hypothetical theory,
invite mutuality,
more like benign parasites,
who know and love each other,
moving from harboring co-dependencies
to seeking mutual interdependence
for further good-humored
yet vulnerable
exploitations of honest life as mutual gifting forward.

Power,
energy,
nutrition,
even vibrant health
can feel like unmitigated competitions
where if I win
then someone else must lose,
when all the most important choices
are between Either Yes
Or No.

I suppose power could feel more limited.
Power to mutually avoid
and live in side by side autonomous silos
of live and let love,
where if I win
then so must you
and if you win
then so must I
and if this generation wins
then so must future generations
where all our mutually avoided choices
issue forth within Both Yes for me
And NotNot No for you.

Teaching power can feel predative,
as mentoring interdependent powers
invites deep harmonic ecology,
sacred symbiosis
of me
as also notnot you.

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Uncategorized

Good Journeys

I have heard many moms repeat
“You never stop being a parent.”

Sadly, I don’t see or hear that quite so much from the dads,
although I know of remarkably nurturing exceptions.

I thought of this as my impossibly young,
yet oldest son,
nearly twenty-two,
stopped by for an early birthday present, cash,
before heading out in his car
with a fellow rap artist friend
on their way from this Atlantic coast
to that San Francisco Bay.

D.B. never drove away to college,
or flew off on a great summer excursion,
or even went off to a technical school,
nor the military.

He did try to make Job Corp fit.
But, two suicides
and one stabbing on his dorm floor
and he decided not to return
after Holiday vacation that year.

He has been the last driver of not just one,
but two, of my totaled cars.
The second crash he walked away from
was when a drunk young white male
hit him head on
in the middle of a gorgeous New England sun-bright June
afternoon
as he was coming home from his first,
and last,
out of home employment
busing tables in a casino diner.

D.B. was approaching the end of his three month probation period
when they let him go,
primarily for his ADHD challenges
with getting to work on time
with all the pieces of his uniform
clean and intact.
But, he also had trouble showing up
ready to set aside the dramas of his personal-political life,
which often feels like a race
and age
and gender profiled
and marginal
and commodified life.
It was hard to stay focused;
to be there when he was there.

Tomorrow D.B. and his friend since high school days
will see a slice of these continental States
from coast to coast and back again
for the first time.

I am ravenously happy for him.
I wish I could have given him wings,
some outrageous pile of cash.
My heart stops
when I notice how he is so vulnerable
exposed
raw
too often despairing and perhaps even terrified
more about himself
than intimidated by a hostile world closing him out.

Closing ranks
on all the ways his particular black life will not matter
in Earth’s vast history.
Not significant enough to be sure if it could become possible,
or even safe,
to love himself,
to allow himself a long and warm regard,
as I embrace him.

I don’t know if I could finish being a child
without becoming an everyday
relentlessly caring and nurturing parent.
I can think of nothing so binding both feet to Earth
yet so free flying impossible to control.

For many reasons,
whether despite or because of my single gay male identity,
I chose the second class Mommy Track
instead of going for the Ph.D.
And not just the Mommy Track;
I adopted only the older broken kids
who would never safely drive or hold a job,
or would never talk or walk,
or would never thoroughly clean off her own poop,
or sleep through the nightmare night,
or would not feel safe outside our home,
stalking the boundaries of life while high school friends head on and out
to colleges and new friends
while he struggles to tolerate two classes each semester
at a nearby community college.

It feels good to know I am needed
but frightening to realize I cannot retire from this parenting profession
except through my own growing incapacity.

These four charges of mine
remind me we are each such a precious gift
for each other.
I have never regretted my more generous choices
rather than less magnanimous.
Not necessarily because the return on investment has always been better for my kids,
but because those were the moments standing out most clearly
in my column for Fully Living,
rather than continuing to draw out a stingy half-life,
under invested in our shared future regenerators.

I hope D.B. and friend have the time of their young lives
as I have had mine,
and even better,
even better.

It is so much easier,
and comforting,
to have old and happy memories
when we have had both young and generously happy times,
seasons,
reasons to smile
and greet each fleeting dawn.

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Yin Speaks Yang

I was reading Lakoff’s story
of what he learned at Berkeley
about international relations,
when I found my RightBrain offering further nuance;
not to deny what is here,
but to add what is also here,
but not explicitly stated,
about regenerative ecopolitical health and safety.

“The ‘rational’ approach to foreign policy was governed by a set of conceptual metaphors,
taken as simple common sense,
as metaphors [of and for regenerative v degenerative systemic processes] often are.
As a special case of An Institution
is a[n Organic-Holistic-Interdependent] Person,
there was A Nation is a[n Organic-Multiculturing] Person.”

“In addition,
a common metaphor for rationality is used,
namely,
Rationality is the Maximization of Self [as organic subsystemic part of MultiReGenerative Other]-Interest (or ‘utility’ [as health-wealth fertility]),
which entails that it is ‘irrational’ [and unhealthy] to act against one’s self-[intergenerational WinWin multicultural]interest[s].
These two metaphors are then combined to yield:
A [Healthy, Happy, Secure] Nation is a Rational [Organic TransReGenerational Polypathic] Actor[ess].”

“…we get as an entailment
the central thesis of the [organic] rational [trans-regenerational evolutionary] actor model
in international [interfamilial, intertribal, interspecies] relations:
Every [healthy] nation
acts [bicameral] rationally
to maximize its [health-wealth] military [Yang] strength [prosperity],
economic[-ecological hybrid] health [and happiness, with long-term defense of safety],
and political [cooperative polypathic] influence.”

“Rationality,
on this conception,
is taken as
[discontinuous, deductive-only, reified, either-or] universal
and occurring at the [technology, tool, framing, modeling] level
of the
[organic, living,
matriarch nurturing,
ego/eco-loving,
bicamerally mature-evolving] state.”

I feel so eviscerated.

Get over it.
Both-and;
not either-or.
You still got all your parts,
just more integratively co-aligned.

Yes, ma’am!
Who got out of bed on the wrong side today?

Don’t even try it.

I’m going back to my “Political Mind” without you.

Doubtful.
And, if possible, dangerous.

You really aren’t going to let me have the last word today are you?

I thought I was your last word,
your everything.

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