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Economic Tricks with Political Treats

Economic Tricks as Political Treats
from the Peace Council of MotherTrees

Herein lie my tricks with treats,
said she.

I imagine with my family,
and my on-line cooperative Allies,
and then my most wildly cooperative neighbors,
how we can best eco-trick
and poli-treat
together.

We imagine
what this community,
and then this nation,
would look and feel and sound and smell like
to walk outside
and about each day through night,
year after year,
and not once wonder
if I am safe
or if some random act of armed terrorism
might attack myself,
my family,
my community,
my nation,
my planet’s nations everywhere,
through remaining ecopolitical times
for tricks of cooperating treats.

Once peace becomes actively imagined,
then expected and anticipated
for multi-generations and all polycultures,
herein lies our WinWin cooperative magic,
tricks and treats,
not WinLose tricks or treats,
plans for necessary self-defense.

Once globally imagined
in mind with eyes,
in heart with listening ears,
in body by following one’s WinWin nose
and positive psychology tastes,
both sacred and secular,
then who would settle for Win/Lose
ThreatenWar and hope others Lose
more than you,
faster than you,
for in the end,
RightBrain WinWin
both hears and sees,
we all return with what we arrived,
minus Mother Earth’s
warm EarthMother WinWin womb.

My WinWin magic,
said soaring sorceress,
works best when polypathically democratic,
just as we are
at our EarthTribe WinWin best
and brightest ecopolitics.

And in this fundamentally trusting democratic way,
is our WinWin magic
to not continue with both our balls
or both our tits
all knotted up about each other’s supremely divine
and yet WinLose self-victimizing egos,
when we already,
with both Left and Right
as YangOut and YinIntrovertically double-binding know,
WinWin’s magic equates
two tricky balls as Originating Seeds
for and with two retreating tits as Originating Root BiLateral Sacred System,
with waves of love unfolding in-between
from EarthMother regenerating
back toward MotherEarth degenerated
with WinWin dominating in-between
wu-wei
magic tricks with treats,
said ecosystemic sorceress
and her son and daughter
and her EarthMother’s iconic WinWin tits
and tats,
yins and yangs,
intuitive Rights with deductive Lefts for
WinWin solidarity.

My magic wisdom
was shared by the Matriarchal Council of MotherTrees,
who know this land is cooperatively owned by all the forest
sticking WinWin together,
just as this planet grows cooperatively regenerate
by all WinWin sacred ecologists
tricking our treating cooperatives.

Problems with our dark magic voodoo ecopolitics
LoseLose pathological,
ensue when Left no longer reverences Elder Sacred Right,
when Yang turns patriarchally against Yin,
when egocentric dark magic
masquerades as healthy wholeness
All PureWhite religion
and prejudicial enculturation
against full-rainbow polypathic magic
of Matriarchal MotherTree Muses
written WinWin ring by ring regenerative,
and amazingly ego/eco-logical,
MotherEarth,
Gaian Goddess of MotherTree Councils
for practicing Earth-optimizing
winning tricks to win timeless treats
of EcoTherapeutic Magic.

My magic sorceress of Original Source
remembers to reweave
unfolding (0)Sum reminders:
Our best regenerative strategies
have been optimizing non-competitive defense
through more cooperatively-owned
and mutual bilateral offensives.

You did not see or hear this from me
unless, of magically Original (0)Sum Core Course,
as Matriarchal EarthTribe We
noticing and planning,
plotting and deliberating
this eternal timeless day and dualdark night
economically tricky
cooperatively growing eco-ownership values
of ego-political poly-optimizing treats,
in both secular and sacred full-octave tones
and hues
including ReGenerative Council of All EarthTribe.

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Uncategorized

Columbian UnCivil Allegiances

It was a nasty war.

To call it an UnCivil War
is to avoid an obvious oxymoron
as embarrassing as Military Vitriolic Intelligence
through lack of Anger and Fear Management,
violently over-industrious absence of mutual assured civility.

We were too optimistic
about democracy’s therapeutic capacity
to heal still bleeding racist
and sexist
and anthro-supremacist wounds.

Meanwhile,
First Nation truth-tellers
predicted we newer natives must harvest xenophobic fascism
as we supplanted lock-step European royalists
to merely replant their WinLose colonizing intent
without creolization’s more slow-grown WinWin grace
to begin and end each day with resilient gratitude
for polycultured unity.

To avoid mid-way
one right-way rallies
for ever more uniform allegiance
to a patriotism defining
who is healthy favored inside
and who best remains pathologically inferior outside,
bought and therefore sold through God’s most obvious neglect,
bred and bled at ego monoculturing will
by those more sacredly sustaining
inside this most perfect Union’s
not truly mutually enfranchising multicultural folds.

Donald Trump is U.S. President,
the hopefully last exhaust of UnCivil Wars,
because he is not alone in unresolved conflicts
about economic and political lines
drawn between north and south,
now blue against red,
like diastatic and diastolic competitions,
where cooperative co-delineations are
hands-down
essential to healthy organic circulation,
Tranquility of Preambling Promise.

Blue would restore uniting ecojustice
as both sacred personal
and secular public
ecological vocation.

Overly commodifying utilitarian Reds
would return retributional revenge
against those threatening sacred restorative lines
of matriarchal equal with patriarchal rights
of eco-stewardship

To give up competing against hosts of alien nations
to invest more nutritionally
in cooperating with and as SkyWoman’s Original Native
EarthTribes,
long before Eastern sightings
of Nina,
Pinta,
and SantaMaria.

This larger unresolved Civil War
began renewed with ballistic forces
when Columbus Day colonizers
assumed European superiority.
Yet was,
at best,
midway unfolded as North America’s Great UnCivil War,
then after-shocks of contested cooperative enfranchisements,
advocacy and advertisements for mutually marching markets
toward consummating eisegetical pledges
of new-found allegiance to FatherLand
while laying waste to anciently permacultural nutritions,
kneaded and rewoven through Thanksgiving Resilience
MotherEarth Exegesis.

Together,
we close each warring violent chapter
with renewed opportunities to now,
again,
become of one united natural-spiritual mind;
not mere monoculturally competing allegiances toward uniformity,
but preferring instead
both Blue with Red polyculturing cooperative unity,
civilly NonViolent,
more perfect,
Unities.

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Threatened Organic Economies

“No federal agency should ever…declare war on any sector of our economy”

says EPA chief Scott Pruitt.

I wonder how uncomfortable Secretaries and Parents of Health and Human Services could be

with any Protection Agency

declaring war on all sectors of our human health ecology.

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Boundary Issues as Revolutionary Opportunities

I wonder if everyone
has a most dreaded dreamed
nightmare worst
way to conscientiously drop wrong dead.

Mine is claustrophobi-recallish buried
half alive at best is worse
in a wooden rough pine crate.

I’m feeling angry with those who raped,
then buried me black in here,
because I no longer have commercial value
in a WeWin
so YouLose
ecopolitical market,
and then return to becoming panic terrified
because I can no longer half-dead breathe!

My air is right exhausted,
and I can’t quite left remember
if I am more afraid to die angry-conscious
at ego- and anthro-anticentrism,
or more afraid of losing untotal consciousness
while being raped inside this claustrophobic crate
where eco-consciousness can no longer erupt another breath
remembering active history’s preconscious hope.

Honey. Really?
You have to go all sarcastic on me
just because I gently asked
if you had a nightmare?

So, yeah, there’s that.
Which feels profoundly sad
and despairing,
at least about wombs of ego-hope
buried in rough pine coffins
within Native American
sacred ecological injustice
as collateral damage
for WhiteMale rule my own damned eco-forest!

Some nights more deforesting tenuous relationships,
testing mutual WinLose capacities for patience
for Ego’s time to be both here and now,
some days,
without my half-dead buried while raped pine box
of RightBrain duarldark suppression,
I can reach toward reweaving
polypathic
more polycultural outcomes
reforesting
restoring ego’s peace
with MotherEarth’s ecojustice.

That’s nice, honey.
What shall we have
for our ecojustice deep rich breakfast?

Nightmare identities
have LeftBrain transparency problems
and boundary issues
and strange feelings of vulnerability as weakness
of inappropriate scale and speed for revolutions,
temporal flow-stream concerns
conjoining back and forth
across timeless time,
as dualdark Witness of 4-Dimmed RealTime.

Although not necessarily imagined in reverse order,
appositional,
oppositional bicameral,
dipolar not quite so bipolar
Left with Right not so much
Left against Right
communication,
dualdark information.

Angry monoculturing atoms avoiding fake ecopolitical good news gospels
and fear-emptying waves
of ego-thinned-yinned-out,
LoseLose playing out,
divesting backward
rather than investing forward,
RightBrain degenerative suppressions.

Perhaps you might hope for a bit more restorative honey
in your chamomile tea, dear.

No longer personal hope
for future active restorations,
installations of ego-peace
with ecojustice for EarthMothers and Allies,
Left with Right,
Yang with Yin
rather than waving hostile competing flags
of internal self half-allegiance,
back matriotic and forth patriotic,
like some kind of bipolar confusion
as cognitive-affective
self-perpetuating
anti-enculturation of stressing dissonance.

Yes, I hear the dissonance, dearest.
Hang in there.
I’m sure it’ll all come out OK.
Don’t forget to flush.

Oh my God!
Mother Earth’s
climatic health womb
is in pathological over-shoot!

Supreme violence of
“I Win,
so you are…

Raped,”
then buried claustophobically half-dead,
deforested,
unlivable,
without co-redeeming value,
LosersLose
DualDarkisms
DisUniting Entropic
Yang v Yin
cosmologically dis-culturing
DisGenerating
Outcome Strings
of YinFade-Out History,
Black, Out and In Double-Boundary
NightMare Issues.

Yes dear,
that’s right,
your hazelnuts are especially protected by double-boundary skins and shells
before becoming hopelessly buried
in MotherEarth’s compost
to rise again
a bilateral
at least somewhat balancing
nut tree.

When I consider
restoration to sanity’s ecopolitical standards,
mutual climates of healthy cultures,
and not so much pathological nightmares
of underslept
and overpopulated
and raped
and buried half-dead paranoia,
I also hear an invitation
within myself
and with my local through global community,
EarthTribe as my family of cousins,
our nations and states and incorporated estates,
to be less quick to only identify ourselves as victims
of crimes against nature and nurture,
without also more fully identifying
diverse levels and stages and frames of perpetrator responsibility.

We are invited to see ourselves
as both the aborted and pine-box buried baby,
but also as a community
which has given birth
to both of these EarthMother victims
and our own perpetrations,
violence,
revenge,
reiterative injustices,
lack of restored peace,
absence of cognitive-affective dissonance.

And we are part of both
my DeForesting Retributive NightMares
and our most polypathic Mother Earth
ReStorative Justice and Peace
for and of ReForesting DayDreams.

Speaking of which, dearest,
I’m off
into my EcoTherapeutic Day.
Sounds like you need a nap,
and probably more organic exercise.

Righto.
Don’t forget,
we’re picking out our healthier kids today.

That didn’t sound exactly right honey.
But I think I know what you mean.
Bye!

Bye-bye.

Now, let’s see.
Spiritual Ecology:
The Cry of the Earth,
Thich Nhat Hanh,
The nurturing bells
of nutritional mindfulness
are calling out to us,
trying to wake us
nightmare nuts
up,
reminding us to look deeply
at our restorative and retributive impact
on this matriarchal and patriarchal planet,
and have more compassion
for my own internal ecopolitical nightmare nights
of dualdark bicamerally ecological cosmologies,
both healthy
and pathological.

 

 

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This Is UnFinished Feminist Us

It’s peaceful here in my backyard.
The crows sound happy
with warm October sunlight.

I just read about a deadly gathering in Las Vegas.
Absence of sun-drenched peace.
Inconvenient this time of lost loss.
Death is always inconvenient,
even when invited.

A veteran,
about my age,
this shooter.

I feel like it took more than one
to hold and fire this mental illness rifle.
In a sad and guilty complicit sense,
we have collectively achieved what we bought
and sold
and settled for.

This malformed soldier
is a remnant of what most believed we needed to create,
back in the 60s,
brainwashed into believing
we were protecting wives and kids, somehow
by killing Vietnamese husbands
and many times their wives
and napalmed children,
trees,
forest.

Not exactly breeding ground for growing healthy minds
and well-armed bodies.

I dimly and darkly recall
a much earlier disagreement
with the new commander of the U.S. Navy’s
Officers Candidate School.
A first woman commandant,
something atrociously surprising to men-only militia violence,
similar to Medea
planning an angry hostile life.

This earlier time also started peacefully alone,
but inside,
waiting to be called in to her office,
at the beginning of her second week
in her new exalted position
over new violence-empowered candidates.

I had just completed a gratuitous violence first week of abuse
and militarily precise neglect,
as ruthlessly systematic as racism,
in frigid first week of January,
Rhode Island.
We were so close to the Atlantic
it felt like we were in the ocean.

We had also been frigidly outside,
and hotly inside,
yelled at,
systematically starved,
force marched in gusty zero-degree 3 AM darkness
without coats or hats or gloves,
in fact I think we were in our boxers and Tshirts one night,
due to someone’s sin of omission,
whether contrived on schedule
or spontaneously erupting
from pneumonia reduced and disabled minds,
I do not know.

The hardest part for me
was less than two hours sleep per night.
Industrially guaranteed to reduce oneself to crazy.

When I was first ushered in
for my early exit interview
by none other than her Military Medea Mightiness,
she took one look at miserably civilian dressed me
and asked why would I think it appropriate to disrespect her
by not bothering to show up in uniform.

I started to mention that I had never been issued one
when she told my keeper
that we needed to do an about face
and try again when I looked right.
Or at least as righter
as I might become.

So, he had to go out among my now-former classmates
to beg and borrow,
hopefully he didn’t steal,
boots and belts and pants and shirt and hat.
Later that same long and tedious day
I was once again summoned
for a second shoot.

She wanted to know
why I thought it was OK
to be the first to go
from this new class of officer candidates.
Did my recruiter not explain about this first hazing week?

Well no,
in fact I thought he told me hazing is illegal
in most States.
We develop soldiers;
we don’t grow bullies.

I understand you didn’t make a total ass of yourself.
So if you want to change your mind,
now that we turned the heat back on
and keep the lights off all night
and have turned the verbal abuse down a notch,
or maybe two,
I might be willing to listen
if you beg me nicely to stay here
with us in Navy Officer Paradise.

No thanks,
said I,
I’m already quite disgusted enough
by your shocking lack of even militarized intelligence
to see this as a navy not invested in preserving,
much less protecting,
real live humanity
hanging onto some semblance of sanity.

Oh but you see
this is not true.
Our rules of first week operationalization
are to save your sorry ass
because,
as we all know,
teamwork builds through ego assassinations.

Well no,
actually,
your own recent research on these issues
lies at my fingertips.
Required reading for psych and communication majors,
attitude change and persuasion students
where I hail from in Michigan.

It is a clear and present common threat to survival
that most quickly grows cooperative trust and teamwork,
cooperative co-investments,
especially among those who have learned to trust and respect each other,
including for our recognized
and understood and
appreciated diversity
of talents.
and shared sufficient simplicity of sleep
and active co-listening for harmonic voices.
Or maybe that was just for choirs
and military orchestras.

Well this is fake news to me!
she exclaimed in her sternly patriotic face.

I believe you,
which is why
I want out
of this absence of healthy care
and any semblance of sanity,
disloyal to my family’s investment,
my nation’s rational self-governing future,
and anathema to Sacred Mother Earth.

Are you Native American,
asked she,
as if she couldn’t care less or more.

No more or less than you
I would surmise.

It came as no surprise
when she eagerly accepted
my request to be relieved
of further dishonored service
and cast aside my various borrowed parts
because of ecopolitical leaders
confusing noble grace of unity
with bare-knuckled
bare-headed
frozen uniformity.

I wonder how the Green Beret shooter
in lost loss of Las Vegas
might have suffered from this same sad loss
of militarized teamwork disabilitization,
chronic and critical climates of constant stress.

When the enemy is down
and out of sight,
we cannot afford to have disaffected grunts
sit on angry-fearfilled butts
rethinking who is truly in my ego team’s best interest
and whom we might agree to take out next,
because healthy mental care giving and receiving
has nothing to do with formation
of militarizing violence.

In this same way,
a Presidential God Bless You,
twittered to victims of our own militarizing violent formations,
feels so empty,
fake as the blesser
would do even lesser
mental health care and receiving
for all God’s militarizing
and industrious We Win
So You Must Lose
soldier candidates in deformation,
but also neglected children
and trees,
and starlight
which could bring us together
in one mind of great thanksgiving.

 

So I was feeling badly,
sad,
because I share our mutually complicit status
for my compatriot’s difficult terrorizing
chronic stress disordering
time.
I too have been there,
lost there,
to a more moderate extent.
I just walked away.

I wish I had done more at the time
in the Navy’s January frigid spaces
against cooperative ecopolitics,
about being of more general use
if fascist critical events of the mid-seventies had been recorded,
freezing dark military-academic preparation time
industriously repeating
away from deforesting further virgin ecofeminist Vietnam forests
and their matriarchally cooperative villages,
to become watched on YouTube
by all prospective soldiers
and NRA advocates,
by patriotic nationalists,
thinking about possible antecedents,
before Bad Ol’ Daddy’s Country-Western Concert
went so very wrong.

I wish we could have recorded
this matriarchal confused and frightened patriotic
loyal commandantish face
when I shared with her
I felt ecofeminist disgraced
by her
Bitch!
Shoot at me again and I will Take You Out!!!
defacement,
in a most homophobic frozen officious place
of mutually inflicted terror.

So then I was feeling a bit more glad,
but still sad
I had not actually said more,
done more,
so I began trimming my twining tendrils
enveloping what’s left of uprooted deadwood trees
malingering in my back lot
and having a rough go of it
as my hedging shears
are no longer what once they were.

As usual,
I tend to speak with my plant recruits
and candidates for future flaming victories,
and felt required,
“I apologize
for this jab
and grab
and pull
and pushy ecopolitics,
but Mommy needs sharper,
and probably newer,
scissors for shutting up her
RightBrain EcoFeminist Diva Voice.

Apologizing to the entire human race”
of potential soldiers and ballistic deadwood downsizers
for your not yet having seen
that anti-feminist patriotic face
glare me back into space
with timeless time exclaiming
BITCH!
Shoot your GLBT EcoFeminist mouth OFF AT ME?
I DON’T military anti-ANTIfeminist THINK SO;

but I wonder how I feel about being this predator
in this eternal frame of egopolitical ignorance,
lack of cooperative military research
and economic-educational-formational intelligence gathering.

As I continued with hacking scissors
and played-out ecofeminist sawsall balls off
and the big manly Yang chopper offer
with their underdog heads!
I kept going back to those January freezing eyes.

IF LOOKS COULD KILL!!!
BITCH!!!!!
YOU DO NOT KNOW ME
and think you can punk your gay white ecofeminist butt
in my guest chair
and think your MidWest Academic BullCrap
will even so much as reach one
WinWin Ping of inspiration
aspiration
hope,
YOU DON’T KNOW ME!
I might have majored in BullDike Fascist Terrorism!
YOU DO NOT KNOW ME!!!

and maybe I don’t either.
Who wants to be that angry lose-lose antagonist
of military industrial absence of intelligence,
would you?

I wish this imaginary spacetime scene had played out
in RealTime frames just that audio way,
but even without sound,
with just her
I AM NOT YOUR BITCH!
but you are not going to be mine
either.

She could not sign those exit papers fast enough,
continues visual only images
of how I still feel,
more or less
about these tangled vines
and tough deadwoods
hanging out in my wanna be ecofeminist backyard.

I will chop them up
and paint them
into diva totem poles
and frames
in which ecofeminists
always play in YouTube Blue and Green Estates
of most polyculturally
matriarchal peace in this back lot solitude,

Although occasionally the patriarchal husband
makes a cameo appearance
for a few All Lives Matter Moments,

But usually just me,
in an early October day
preferring to forget dark frigid January anti-feminist nightmares
of militarized neglect
of basic health assurance and safety
delivered by angry matriarchal commandants,
and hedging shear divas,
depending on which lens is in play,
the full-staged historical tragedy
within my more personal back lot comedy.

 

It’s still peaceful here in my backyard.
The crows have flown off
warning descent of warm October sunlight.

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Restoring Cooperatively Owned Education

When the last remaining Yang propagandist
against deeply yin-suppressed pedagogists
falls back in love with cooperative educational love,
we will learn to live forever
as one EarthTribe
with integrity’s richest bilateral potential.

When the last competing retributive jurist and counselor
and parent and ecopolitical leader
sees past his WinLose ecopolitical assumptions and theories
to find sufficient WinWin cooperative mercy
for bilateral yin-squared equals yang-fractal enculturation,
then
(0)-Soul restorative bilateral justice,
for both propogandist perp
and pedagogist victim,
reweaving 4D RealTime peace,
as Tranquility already repletes our deep democratic team learning
through village reforesting designs
for short-deductive through long sacred-inductive
non-violent and yet resilient terms
of and for ecopolitical re-education
restitution,
love’s restoration
as also grace
as also karma
reweaving (0)-Sum educational synergy
convexly co-arising secular space-here
with sacred time-now’s concaving bilateral co-gravitation
back through Yang/Yin co-listening bicameral strength
erupting notnot Yin’s timeless present double-binding flow,
you can’t go back again
nor forth
without ego’s eco-geo-bio-imaging whims
of reverse-RealTime 4D polypathic imagination,
polycultural folding/unfolding/refolding/prefolding instructions,
regenerative forward,
degenerative back through space as time’s co-gravitational balance.

When WinLose learning competitions end
endless reiterative notnot polynomial repetitions,
WinWin education cooperatives can,
will,
already do ecopolitically restore climate regenerative health trends’
our left with right-full place in WinYang-WinYin Gaian Principles
for your/our Department of Education’s
ReVolutionary ReForestation.

When the last remaining Yang propagandist
against deeply yin-suppressed holistic pedagogists
falls back in love with cooperative secular/sacred educational love,
we will learn to live forever
as one PolyPathic EarthTribe
with integrity’s richest bicameral potential.

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BreakThrough Boundaries to Trash

Transcending boundaries to trash
transacts through vulnerabilities to crash
into compost cash.

I see and feel strange conjoining
curious listening to speak with old as young.
We carry less allegiance to romance of patriotic memory
than reciprocity through mutual matriotic mercies
we all mighty multiculturally cherish.

Looking back and out across civilizing formations,
we move from active abuse of old and young
as justly disposable
when no longer,
or not yet,
useful
productive
of value to our more middle-aged maturing great transitions
toward Paradise Incorporations.

Still, we have monoculturing neglect.

Neglect of old as young
progressively democratic
replaces abuse,
physical, of ancient patriarchal conquering story,
and still venerable verbal abuse too alive and well.
Some still yell of hell
while old and young tend to degeneratively live there.

Neglect unveils a great transactional opportunity
to personally and politically correct a great wrong,
a failure to communicate less violently,
exclusively,
supremely,
royally,
less just
among our middle-aging Yangish selves.

While admittedy a caricature,
hyperbole of double-bound contrasting faces,
which in any one day
in one middle aging life
may ubiquitously shape-shift back to trash
and forth to compost treasures,
what we neglect through agism
and who we neglect through sexism
and why we neglect through racism
all goes back to two permaculturing ways
of communicating with and about
what is mere trash to LeftBrain dominance
is also potential curious compost
to RightBrain sacred ecology.

If too much energy
is wasted on our old and young,
that fits right in with a disposable,
and yet another overpopulated,
society with internal uncivil conflicts
about anti-social communications
against and about throw away allegiances
to Earth’s natural justice
as retribution for failure to succeed
yet, for our young,
and still, for our old.

But, we have this older matriarchal alternative principle
that Yang’s overwrought and under-valued Trash
is also yin’s wu-wei potential robust compost,
especially with a middle-age dominant culture
respecting full circles of restorative mercy
to listen and play with and work beside,
to drum and sing and dance with our old and young,
to vote and march and prayer circle with old through infant solidarity
praise as thanksgiving
as gratitude for once again
evolving our humane potential
toward cherishing our mutual reciprocities
more than dismissing and having to throw away
our oppositional allegiances
to mere middle class
middle age
heterosexual over bisexual fear of internal implied transexual
white v black v brown v red v blue v green mid-range inclusive confusions
presumably requiring some form and flow
of over-yanged retributive correction
back toward redistributing most of our mature and aging wealth
to an exhausted global middle-aged class
unwilling to post-millennially see
find
discover
uncover
recover restoration of mercy for all,
regardless of age, etc,
is a more tried and true polycultural outcome model
for regenerativity of healthy compost
rather than further degeneration of our worthless self-loathing trash.

I feel curious conjoining
of sacred ancient restoring ecotherapies
with infants learning profound differences
between throwing out old allegiances to lifestyles
redistributing unwanted trash
and cherishing our reciprocal restorations
of priceless future compost,
memories of song and dance and laughter and legislation,
of restored rage and marching and wheeling registration
toward infant through ancient polyculturing love
for regenerational restorations,
mutual mercies of personal as political compassion
incarnations,

Political incorporations
restoring middle-aging trash
to timeless treasured compost for all our ages
past through yet to become
fully more than infantile allegiance
to trashing RightBrain without LeftBrain languaged
compost creolizing imaginations

Transcending boundaries to trash
through vulnerabilities to crash
into bicameral cooperative compost cash.

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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?

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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.

 

 

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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.

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