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Irrational Numbers, with Lyrical Pretensions

The number of folks sitting
on the back porch
waiting
for peace to strike,
like waiting for my garden to grow
without yet having planted it.

The number of people
noticing that chronic victims
suffer from critical victimization events,
minus the number who also notice
that chronic crimers
also suffer from critical
criminalization
events.

The number of people
horrified by the number of victims
of prejudicial discriminashunishtion
against their ethnicity,
economic lack of class,
and suitable gender,
and age of maturation
but also unaware
of how we celebrate
positive multicultural discriminations
for diverse ethnicities,
economic cooperative sufficiencies
of fairly decent incomes,
genders, including preferences,
and age-appropriate behaviors.

The number of folks who also see
impoverishment and marginalization,
chronic social criminalization,
whenever they hear it said
of retributive justice,
deterrent incapacitation
and restraint
as additional most negative,
and possibly unnecessary, constraints.

The number of folks we retributively select
willing to settle
for uniform dark punishments
of retributive overkill,
without the slightest hint of redistributive overjoy
most anywhere
for or with anyone,
mistaking this for the unity of restorative purposes
we more peacefully
and co-redemptively
so long for.

The number of excellent scientists and parents
seeking deductively reasoned
learning processes by day
while dreaming inductively co-operatively
seeking warmer compassions through each night.

The number of economists
and politicians too,
of parents
and educators
recognizing communication
through diversely humming channels beyond simply straightforward speaking
and hearing
and watching,
to include RNA’s more regeneratively primal
feeling
and tasting
and absorbing
through rooting systems,
functioning like reverse lickers
and stickers
and salivators
and saps
and pheromone freaks.

The number of scientists
who might somehow come to realize
that tree conversations
could take place through rooting systems
underground,
plus those who also celebrate implications
that tree co-empathic conversations are,
at their highest co-operative best,
currently over our mutually
co-regeneratively
reiterating heads.

The number of folks
who feel complicit
in our punished guilt
plus those who can still celebrate
our nature’s mutually complicit passions,
born both loving predator
and beloved prey,
until parents and Sunday School
and day care teachers teach other not-so-wise.

The number of communication buffs
who think these two populations,
society’s predators and victims
reallllly neeeeed to talk,
and listen,
and not so much both at the same time,
and probably not lick
or hit with a stick
because that would be so icky.

The number of kids
who would predict
that their parents
and teachers
will compete to heat our climates up
so we all can drown together,
regardless of primal
tribal
co-identities.

The number of prophets
recognizing selves
as original native residents
of indigenous EarthTribes,
speaking
and listening
cooperatively for co-planting,
and thereby growing,
ego’s active cooperating peace
as and of and for
eco-restorationelating justice,
Left in rational solidarity with SacredRight,
DNA mutually sniffing RNA’s
optimal Paradisal CoOperating Climates.

The number of folks
still settling for talking and praying
against demonic climate changes,
when we could also be cooperatively planting
and growing
rich climates of health,
cultures of gratitude
at least for and with front porch
EarthFlag-waving
Positive PsychoEcoLogists.

The number of people
who fail to recall
that what ever you were taught as
Orthodoxy’s Sacred Truth,
at one time
was first naturally felt and sensed
as eisegetical WinWin hope,
mutually-licking and sticking
hypo-principaling around theses
with their appositional un- and anti-theses.

The number of systemic processors
actively hoping
for zero-sum
ego-in
eco-out
balancing,
Plus-Plus double-binding
both before
and after notnotnotnot yet
bilaterally timeless linear Time
restoring polypathic RealTime Tipping Points
of ZeroSoul rationality.

The number of Earth’s creatures
waiting for war’s continuing fires to drop
when we could more cooperatively learn
to wait instead for peace’s inside-outside
other secular-sacred nondual loving shoe to drop.

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The Ambiguous Apprentice

When does ambiguously free verse
also become emphatically political verse?

I was emphatically reading pieces,
ambiguously written
about my sons,
to my oldest son’s girlfriend.

The longer I read
the more she cried.

Now it had been my hope
and passion
to become the next Kurt Vonnegut
of PolyCulturing Healthy Outcome Design,
or at least John Irving
at his all ecopolitical lives matter, and not, satirical best,
and so I finally had to ask,
Are these tears of sadness?

Yes and no.
Sometimes, says she,
mostly happy that someone else
sees him as I do
when I am at my best,
but sadness too
that we live in your world
of our own re-creation
about what you write
is too often left unsaid
uncreated
or even thought about.

I thought this might be a compliment
and so I read bravely on
through her quiet tears
of sad happiness
until she asked me to stop.

Could you teach me to write
like you?

No.
I doubt I could even help you write
like you.
Why,
are you having trouble writing by and of yourself?

Yes.
I worry I have nothing to say,
no place to safely yet nakedly live.

About half the poets
and novelists
believe that is a prerequisite
to great literature
and becoming an authentically mature artiste.

Having nothing to say.

Yes. But saying whatever very well.
And the other half,
what they mainly have to say
is to have something to say
which you would be wiser through hearing
yourself say
what you just said.
And if they believed
as does the opposing mindless half
then they would not embarrass themselves
by writing any no thing at all.

Well, which is right,
do you think?

More to your point,
which is right
about your writing?
If you can trust each empty page
longs to fill with your good humor
and best wisdom,
then you might begin
by having nothing on your Left languaged mind
except some brief turn of lyrical phrase
or return of some event
devoid of context
which musefully incarnates as content
as your pen rolls along each shaping word
and returning phrase
and 4 dimensional as seasonal
reasonal harmonic lines
and sentences for joyful life,
not just lonely sad death.

Next thing you know
sad death cooperatively together
restores joyful life justice
where lived sad loves lived evilly alone
and you are editing in search of paragraphs
to create sufficient spaces
between maturing lines of thought
you heard as one compare/contrast before
you’ve always said
and hoped someday to read,
then editing through pages of ego/eco-logical content
about…
what?
We’re not sure
until we’re done.
———————————————————–

She was crying again.
So I found an old barely used notebook
and a fresh pen,
a nearly full box of gaily pure white tissue
and handed them to her,
Suggesting she might write about tears
of sad yet lovely joy.

Where might I best begin,
she wisely asks.

At the top,
either left or right
depending on which hemisphere you most speak,
I not so wisely answer.
And, the first principle of multicultural story telling
is to be sure your reader
continues to understand and appreciate
and feel gratitude for
your protagonist
inevitably our favorite underdog,
because life’s a joyful sad bitch
but what are we going to gratefully do
with it?
The pen and notebook?
In your left and right hands?

So, I just start at the top
and re-imagine us
whether protagonist-in with antagonist-out,
or potential future solution
within a vexing co-present problem,
ways we choose to fold and unfold
sad space
as also joyful time of opportunity?

Spoken as a true tragic-comedy loving physicist
pretending to become a metaphysical teller of history,
your story,
written as we speak together
in domesticating yet still wild imaginations,
political thought experiments,
narratives,
prose as also poetry.

Precisely as I see our sadly joyful situation too.
All we have are protagonist underdogs
and antagonist overlords,
and each lies both sadly and joyously
across each bicameral heart and mind
singing
When I fall in nondual co-arising love,
we will be forever,
Reading stories of favorite sons
to tearful joys of future daughters
for revolutionary story telling,
more cooperative
than my damnably antagonistic
overlording sons!

When did ambiguously free verse
also become emphatically democratic verse?

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Uncategorized

Pledged Allegiance to the Sun

Wilderness edible forests,
to hungry mothers,
became wild undomesticated wastelands
to commodifying and taxing FatherLand patriarchs.

Wilderness matriarchs once Pledged Allegiance to the Sun,
and Gratitude to GrandMother Moon
for both interdependent fullness
and new womb emptiness,
grace-filled promise
of future healthy integrity,
pregnant with promising fertility.

We pledge allegiance and gratitude to our Sun,
One Icon of our First Native Nations and Wilderness Tribes,
reforesting and harvesting indivisibly synced
under and within SkyMother Earth
with liberty to not be unpatriotically bullied
to rescind each democratic individual’s right
to equal liberty of mind and heart and body,
and forest wilderness ecojustice
for all GrandMother Moon’s health planting
and wealth harvesting children,
Moon-matriotic matriarchs
and Sun-patriotic patriarchs.

Expressing grateful loyalty within
wilderness edible forests,
to and for hungry parents and grandparents,
becoming wildly domesticated fertile lands and waters
to cooperatively commodify
and sacredly deify
and co-invest Mother EarthTribe
matriarchs rewombing
matriarchs and patriarchs,
born equally of transubstantiating Sacred SunLight,
Love,
Grace
breeding and feeding cooperatively owned Gratitude.

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Ms. Liska

When I was a FreshPerson in a new higher school,
our English Literature class was delighted
to meet a new to our rural area Ms. Liska,
who was a beautiful teacher
both outside
and in,
and so we all loved her,
and knew she loved us as well,
although sometimes not happy with one or another
due to smart-ass behavior.

One day,
for reasons we could not imagine at the time,
nor would I remember in this rhyme
of metaphysical reasons for living
and dying,
Ms. Liska
asked if any of us had heard of Marcus Aurelius.

Whom I happened to be reading at the time.
So I was, as I recall,
surprised to see only my hand up
because I had probably just volunteered
to display my FreshPerson ignorance.

She did in fact go there
and ask just whom I thought Aurelius was,
which seemed to me
to be
a Roman Emperor
who was also a published Stoic philosopher.

And so it seemed to Ms. Liska as well
so why not dig the Stoic grinding ax some deeper?
And what is Stoicism?

Now definitions
are not my strength,
I’m more of a delineating guy.
So I thought a Roman Stoic
might be like a British Churchill,
keeping a stiff upper lip
having looked at all our deadly facts
and blundering on anyway
with this mysterious life of stoicism.

Of course Ms. Liska
would not allow stoicism to rear its obstinate head
within its own stubborn definition
so she kindly invited me to try again,
not because I was wrong,
she quickly added,
but because I could become even more right.

Marcus Aurelius reminds us
if life is indeed a bed of roses
then we should expect some deadly thorns
along life’s thunderous way.

He invites us to embrace our birthday
by remembering
this celebration is paid back
with an ultimate death day,
as what grows up must also fade down
and back.
It’s a package deal.
Accepting this package as gift
in its life and death polarities
is a stoic thing to do,
and a delusional thing
not to do,
a Greek act of hubris;
not very Roman patriotic,
not stoically realistic.

Ms. Liska found this better
than my stoic thorns
along life’s bed of dying roses way.
But,
then we skipped along to something else
and I never did have my time
to ask her what she thought
about similarities and differences
between who has authority to induce life
and whom might, then,
find responsibility for deducting my life,
any life,
humanely compassionate
or more stoically otherwise,
like a hungry Roman Emperor
or voracious bear.

For it seemed to me
quite transparently true
that in accepting my right to live
and do the best I could
to stoically tolerate
everybody else’s own acceptance of their right to live
and do the stoic best we can
with life’s inevitable ups and downs,
then we must agree with our inherited justice system,
and to live within a just war view of stoic death
is also an unjustified view of my authority to live responsibly.

I was no more authoritative
and remain no less responsible
for causing my own stoic life to begin
than to end my own life,
much less anyone else’s,
or to delegate authority
to some tired State
to do this for me.

I think Marcus Aurelius
was more stoically comfortable
with society’s right
to invite
each person who has taken a life
to become responsible enough
to consider choosing their own death
within a wider ecological context
of restorative justice.

But, just, fair, equitable restoration of a life
irresponsibly taken
does not in any way,
not even a stoic way,
suggest society’s collective right
to irresponsibly take yet another life
now lived across a threshold
of authority
beyond which we cannot responsibly live
cooperatively together.

In choosing to kill,
in choosing to sanction acts of deadly violence,
in choosing to maim and harm,
in choosing deadly and imprisoning revenge,
we stoically choose our own death day
with no more or less authority and responsibility
than for our own birthday,
and each day that follows
between life’s roses
and deadly shaming blaming thorns,
between integrity
and separations
devoid of restorative justice opportunity,
further WinWins
for each and all EarthTribe.

It is difficult to teach how to stoically fall on one’s own responsible sword
when raised in a military-industriously violent society
determined to competitively invest millions of dollars
in deadening revenge
rather than enlivening sacred invitations
to more stoic restorative justice,
celebrating life feeds life birthdays
and eulogizing death breeds death days
lost in mythic pasts
when we first sacrificed virgin children
to a drought-inducing
Vengeance is Mine
SunGod,
even before Holy Roman Empires.

Justice as revenge
assumes our competitive choices
are between brands of death,
while restorative justice,
more stoically balanced,
presumes if we did not first, more primally,
have cooperative choices between brands of life,
then branding and marketing justified death
would remain an ecological and historical moot point
of LoseLose vengeful nihilism.

And so I continued in my smart-ass ways,
wondering what Ms. Liska would think
about balancing our right to life
with fight against condoning death
except where stoically chosen.

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Thinking And Therefore Becoming

It is all very well for Mr. DesCartes
DeCation
to think with his mind
and therefore be with his body,
yet this fails to explain
why when I think happy and healthy
I feel like I am more,
and when I think sad and depressed
I feel like so much less.

Somewhere back in the sleepy land
of Cartesian dualism,
we can still recover the WinWin contrast of Eastern philosophy’s
co-arising nondualism
of mind and body,
what is spiritual is what is also natural,
what nurtures sacred wisdom
with what nurtures secular rationality,
but also other dualisms
not merely appositional contrasts between inside-Right
and outside-Left
evolutions
and revolutions,
but oppositional tensions between ecopolitical health and pathology.

Evangelical and Supremacist Trees Knowing Good Or Evil
growing in Earth’s original Eden forest,
may feel more Eastern,
and RightBrain seen and heard and smelled and felt,
as WinWin KnowledgeTrees of NonDual CoArising Good AND Evil,
ecological virtues with some egocentric sins,
healthy climate governing decisions
and those more deadly,
and cognitively dissonant,
and depressing
and chronically stressing
and decompositional,
devolutionary,
rather than Tipping Point nondual co-arising balancers
of positive evolution,
regeneration
aptic contentment-happiness,
Left and RightBrain collateral dominance
within Positive Psychology and EcoPolitical Earth Sciences
throughout parenting
and educational systems
and faith and trust building systems, communities
of nondual co-arising (0)Sum WinWin nonduality
as contrasted to Cartesian dualistic assumptions
which are more (0)Sum WinLose,
Either-Or deductive-reductive fundamentalism,
rather than BothLeft AndRight co-inductive cooperative rationalism
of SecularLeft Yang with SacredElderRight Yin ethological discernment
re-combining both revolutionary regenerative health
as cooperatively grateful life trends
and evolutionary decomposing bilateral pathologies
through competing to subdue maladroit LoseLose death-trends.

Our Western difference between sacred health of mind
and reductive-secular pathologies of merely natural wishful-thinking therefore aming bodies
together provide a co-arising nondual bilateral view
of what we nutritionally/toxically are each day,
each year,
each life,
Yang cooperative and ecologically proudest for having achieved
as part of EarthTribe’s national Treasure,
but also as Yin grateful for co-arising decompositions,
recompositions,
reweaving reunions
through (0)Soul YangSpace-YinTime
4D Real SpecialCase HealthWealth Time
WinWin self-governance
polypathically and polynomially and polyphonically and polyculturally applied,
noticed and appreciated,
non-violently listened to and with,
planted,
fed nutritionally and watered through thermodynamic balanced root systems,
harvested,
decomposed,
regenerated toward and re-invested through
Seven ReGenerations of Trees
knowing both good ecological nature
and bad egocentric spirits
paranoid about Earth’s LoseLose
Left v Right Cartesian dominant Western dualism.

We are fortunate,
but too seldom grateful,
to learn at least as much from our fears and fear-mongerers,
(not to mention any RightWing dominating elitist names)
as we have from our great sacred and academic loves
and fellow lovers of healthy wealth
for more humane acclimating climates
within as without
EarthTribe’s natural-spiritual landscapes.

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Universal Stories

All of us,
or nearly all,
have had both spiritual experience
and some religious teaching,
sometimes from prophetic pulpit ScriptureSpeakers
and sometimes through more maternal StoryTellers,
and all immersed in prodigal parables
bridging gaps
between internal spiritual experience
of nutritional love through toxic hate,
ecocentric good through egocentric evil
and sad,
and religious instructions
about how to do better,
more cooperatively,
next time,
gratitude co-investing Earth’s rich health grace.

All of us,
or most,
for cooperatively better
and Yang/Yin competitively worse,
have had both economic ecological experience
and prophetic,
and sometimes pathetic,
political teachings
about how best to govern
our YangLeft-RightYin regenerative selves,
our local communities of bicameral cooperative intent,
our counties and provinces and bioregions,
our nations
as our MotherEarth Planet
eco-cooperative place
of original embryonic Earth-Mother’s
matriarchally nutritional
spirit-nature nondual
co-arising Grace
as both God and Gaia Earth’s Creation
invite more gratitude together
than Yang v. repressed Yin
apart.

Which came first?
Spiritual and ecological embryonic experience?
Or political-religious-cultural prophecies
and laws
and legislation,
mediated dogmas
and political nominations
for your persuasion
and co-investment in
Anger Management EgoTherapies
and Love Abundance EcoTherapies?

Or
do they SpiritYin–
secular NatureYang–
co-arise
nondually
toward equivalent
polypathic
Grace abundant Gratitude?

In other words
each embryonic new birth
is also an ancient reforesting regenetic unfolding
of phylogenic instructions
for reforesting our lives in potential-Eden,
for Paradise perpetuation
from now
through at least 7-ReGenerations.

To paraphrase avid David Holmgren,
we best remember
gains and losses
from culling forests,
ecosystems external
and egosystems internal,
are made health and pathology possible
by Earth’s deep rich cooperative eco-learning diversity
of Patriarchal Grace
greeting integrity of Matriarchal Gratitude;
experience first intended
while still in loving Mother’s Spirit-Natured Womb.

Be careful who you deepest listen to,
are fed and bled by,
said TransGender Virgin Mary,
when reforesting your forests
in and out.
From thunderous tones of too Patriarchal Voices
and the flowing grace-octaves of original sensory experience,
you can usually delineate
those who know differences between culling and raping,
and those who not so much have first clues,
prefer to speak first
about their own ego-political competing issues.

If in their most important scripture stories,
the women,
and the poor,
and the marginalized LGBTs,
and the people of rich deep color,
have only bleeding parts
instead of speaking
and singing
and dancing parts,
then it’s time to shop
’til you drop
for a more polycultured Creation Story
of PolyPathic EcoPolitics.

Can you imagine,
asked the VirginMother of Her Son,
Where Yang spies swimming upstream
Yin also hears and smells and feels flying,
gliding,
sailing,
weaving and reweaving
more downstream
than up,
first concave inside
then convexly out?

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I’m Not Sure

I’m not sure
if nature’s spiritual voices,
if Earth’s cultural songs and dances,
are merely subjectively interesting
nutritional creolizing metaphors,
or if all ecological analogies
are necessarily and objectively interesting,
or perhaps even both,
sacred-secular co-arising.

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