Sexual Situations

I was about to check out a new detective drama
and paused
however briefly
when I noticed a consumer warning
“Sexual Situations”

Which I find confusing.

as long as I continue to wake up
however partially
I am not gender impartial

I awake into my
Sexual Situation

I live in a sexual body
with a neuro-sensory communicating
communing pheromonic mind
filled with multigenerational memories
and multicultural images

Whether conscious or not,
if you can read
and understand this,
and even if you couldn’t,
you too live
in a sexual situation
among a sexual species.

So, I’m wondering
when will I read a consumer warning
“No Sexual Situations”

No drama

No detective work
or play

No plot

No sensory interest

Better off
to go take a wild
creamy nap.


Cantos of Communion

All relationships
steadfast monotheistic
become stagnant hate

And change becomes
rightly and left weighed
swayed animation
and delayed

Yet we are not entirely changed
from our first health wealthy estate,
transubstantiating positive
by our changed circumference
our becoming does dilate
and integrate,

And, returning to our selves
at co-related length
and width
and depth again
each day through night

Do awake
to working play
our cooperative perfection
as if by compassion’s fate


Note: Inspired by, and respoken with gratitude becoming, Spenser’s “Cantos of Mutabilitie”


Blank Page Syndrome

Blank page syndrome
feels like full page longing
to be done with some work project
that will not slowly grow worthy
of my time
and certainly no captivated reader.

I feel victimized,
tortured, actually,
by blank page syndrome

Where I want to feel some opening
and rewarding opportunity
and not dull risk
of further unnoticed failure
to richly
and wisely communicate
warm and wild communion.

My blank pages
demand content
spilled across blue horizontal lines
with a red left side vertical

Demarking where orderly thought correctly begins
to unfold top left
unfurling cause effectively
toward right bottom

Yet Left dominance
overpowers Right feelings prominent
circling and recycling
whirling and spinning
spiraling out of win/win control
re-membering risks
of nontransparent failure
falling brawly short
of both peaceful Truth
and vulnerable Beauty.

Yet a bleakly black blank canvas
with no red
or blue bicameral communion rules
or tools
feels most frightening
intimidating of all
vaporous calls

“I can’t draw,
or sketch,
or paint,
or write,
or sing,
or dance,
or speak out woke”

Can’t preach
or teach inside voices
ignoring outside echoing choices
to evoke
childish dreams,
daydream schemes
to become Earth’s greatest love
of blank paged warm regard
for how we flew
and walked
and swam
and grew to Here embodied
meets Now compassioned mind

trusted EarthBeauty
dipolar co-arising
all scared yet sacred Time’s unfolding

Win/Win regenerative
peaks and valley sand
defining ecstatic
aesthetic lines
refining intimate circling graced spaces
etched throughout
neuro-systemic elegant
multigenerational potential

Not not synergetic journeys
deeply and widely
back and forth
out and inside
polyculturing communion

While staring at this straight lined
and otherwise white privileged
square-cut manufactured page

Holding my green health hope
and content contented circling pen
praying for worthy inspiration.


CoOperative Agency

They are friends,
I imagine,
Or perhaps unfamiliar
yet curious

These two seem to like
to lick
each other

And probably value public transparency
more than personal privacy

I wonder
how they became work out
and play in partners,
surprisingly athletic,
and inventive

With minds
that began flirting,
Engaging bodies
now urgently culminating.

for this newly heated
yet ancient
sacred communion

A warm summer kiss,
a shared soiled towel,
a sapient smile
in the shower.


On Doing Nothing

“Do nothing
and everything is done.”

Do no spiritual thing
and every natural climate is finished.

Become no merely natural being
and every spiritual becoming
has already been merrily fulfilled.

Play no win/win nature
and every lose/lose spirit is working out

Play only win/win nature
and all lose/lose spirits
become way too much ultra non-violet work
for even the most left-hemisphere dominant
to become deductively distracted
from inductively healthy
good humored
full moon light for
multiculturing family life.

Do no win/lose capitalistic work
and every win/win playful communion is done.

Or, like he said,
Do No future-planning Thing
and Every past Thing is Done.

There remains
only integrity
of this Moment’s
health-wealthiest play potential.


King of the Hill

When I was a ginger eight
my many cousins and I liked to play
King On The Mountain,
or at least the older and stronger
enjoyed being on top of a grassy mound
as lesser beings formed military alliances
further magnifying their/our winning majesty
in this empire-struggling win/lose game.

Engaged in our playful struggle
so long as autonomous individuals
and cooperative team members
continued to win often enough
to retain recreative tension
about push and shove battle outcomes.

Issues of patriarchy
with feminist trust levels
did not emerge
as I recall,
although this may be because we were cousins
already well acclimated to our sensory/sensual diversity
and recreational integrity
for resilient play without anyone getting seriously hurt,
emotionally or physically,
spiritually or naturally.

Patriarchal offenses
and retaining the King’s defensive power
over all comers
may be more of an issue for long-exercised narcissists
in immature adult full-bloom rabidity,
speaking and doing viral negative
pushes and shoves,
name calling
and invitations to go back home
rather than respect for tenacity,
trying to become King of the Mountain
cooperatively together.

Somehow we found enough emotional room
for everyone at the top or the bottom.
We came to trust each other enough
to know and feel critical differences
between sometimes winning and sometimes losing
degenerative/regenerative in-between tension
lapsing toward probable lose/lose chaos
and win/win recreative intention
of contests balancing autonomous competition
with interdependent cooperation

Creative and recreative strategies
to keep our hill full of healthy opportunity
to share times of aristocratic supremacy
in a challenging, yet freely engaged, game market
that all my cousins would continue investing in
so long as each win/lose struggler
continues to feel reassured
cared for and with
more than plotted against
dissonant and dismissed.

When this role play exercise ended
we would all go back to becoming the same ego characters,
primal relatives that our mothers bore

So we would have each other to play King of Mountains,
Queen of the Romantic Ball,
and Who Can Spit Watermelon Seeds Furthest,
most accurately,
with the highest graceful arc,
with the least and loudest spitting noise, etc.

If we had known
King Of The Capitalist Hill
is the only local through global Game
of win/lose power
on an overcrowded planet,
I wonder if our trust
in win/win interdependent healthy outcomes
would remain so robustly influential
to our affiliative strategies
and compassionate cousin feelings.


First and Lasting Light

He awakens.
Stretching lambent brown-earth eyes fully open
then stretching smile
while sitting stretching up
to meet morning light’s soft greeting
mystically caressing his warm dusk skin with cooler delights
across curious face and neck and grateful arms.

Bluejay scolding
squirrel chattering in scathing manic response.

Hawk hovering above,
praying for prey this day,
as he watches
through stretching preying agape eyes
returning into this day’s dramatic Earth events
to taste and feel and smell fresh breeze
dancing caress
fading smile
drooping eyes
to dream as falcon
soaring Earth’s grand eloquent delights.

He awakens to play
as he prays without embodied replay;
echoing eco analogical sounds with smells in co-flight
of and by and with and in and for his exegeting earthy nature.


Hide and Seeking Anthropoids

If true, as anthropologists report
hide-and-seek entertains children of all languages
and cultural sport
throughout all humanity’s extended family history,
might hiding-seeking ubiquitously regenerate among children
as among haunted-hunting adults
gathering food to hide from hunger,
daily plowing for payroll plunder,
postulating procreation,
BusinessAsUsual play as work,
taking turns hiding from god,
trusting divine spirits to continue seeking
my blend-in brand of humanity.

While too tribally divine to attract anthro-specialized notice,
my roommate cat, Simon,
also excels at both hiding and seeking,
terrorizing my unsuspecting shoe laces
as I naively strive to pass him by,
leave him behind,
as if I were in charge of times to hide
and reasons to seek.

Is not all science and life,
adult and childhood,
human natured and other natured,
some hybrid hide and seek
as marvelous stimuli
for curious research response?

Wondrous where and how
our cat-gods of destiny will pounce,
not sure we prefer too soon
over being last to win such grace,
joining conscientific players of adventure evermore,
seeing sight beyond time’s domesticating hidden door.


God of PlayTime Loves

I know nothing brighter than disdain
for algebra’s insane fascination with irrational outcomes,
dissonating my natural empathy
with harmonic blends and rhythms,
patterns of fore-giving symmetry.

By contrast,
the only math I take to,
warm wet compost
transforming into well-fed root system,
more than geometry,
is logic,
especially ecological applications
to natural systems theory,
in which close enough,
and just show up,
and what goes up must come down
as what goes in must come back out again,
one way or another,
are all good enough
not only for government work but also self-governance
of God as Sun as ReGenerative Love,
Earth’s AnthroPlay.

like AnthroVocation toward reconnecting solidarity within all Earth Tribes
merging mystical languages of light as fertile health,
as dark politically economizes LoseLose decomposition plans,
anti-ecological suicide of God as Love,
AnthroVocation of EcoConsciousness,
like AnthroPlay of Love,
vocation is enculturing application,
play is regeneration.

From geometry of biology
I learned each BioLove Player has an Exterior Landscape co-gravitational center
as our Interior MindBody Landscape
has a bilateral dipolar co-arising ecoconscious center,
half Ego-identified Left,
half EcoExterior Landscape DNA-ReGenerative Right,
prime fractal-ecological light incarnation OVER
dualdark Original Intent of dual-dense Black Concave,
(0)Mega Climax of Time
syntaxed as Light/double-reverse TransParent,
languaged and enculturing as Love of regenerative light/dualdark balance,
storied as creative evolution of life, health, good, truth, positive, beauty, wealth, cooperativity
sung in harmony of resonant, full circle, resolutions,
danced in variations on a 4-step fractal-seasonal theme,
calculated in prime temporal-neural receptivity,
stored in dialectic +/-,- memory functions
with octave interdependent primal frequencies
of bilinear co-gravitation
wu wei balancing time as love
as cooperative relationship of midway dark and light,
yin and yang,
double-binding irrational outcomes
as half positive and half negative
so split the absent differences
and therein find opportunities
for new balance and symmetrical evolution
of God as Love as Moose Medicine blended with Owl Medicine
for self-perpetuating EarthTribe’s Love MidWay Medicine.

From logic I learned
if God (x) = Love (y)
then BioLove also = God’s Identity.

But, it took Buckminster Fuller’s geometrics,
blended with Julian Jaynes’ evolutionary theory of bicameral mindbody consciousness,
to remind me
AnthroLove evolved through cooperative ego-dialogue within
as evolution emerged without,
they are mutually phylogenetic,
political and economic and social and
polycultural love of health outcomes.

AnthroLove = BiCamerally Balancing God’s EarthBound TaoTime,
Yang Exterior-Deductive EgoLeft = Yin Interior-Inductive EcoRight,
LeftRight AnthroLove co-arising Prime (0) Relationship,
EarthConvex OVER EcoConcave Double-Binding Conscious Landscape

splitting dissonant differences
of prickly algebraic irrationality,
and other unhealthy, climatically dissonant, outcomes.

To algebra is hell,
to ecologic divinely regenerative.

If Love is God’s Identity
then God is cooperative EarthTribal Love,
RNA/DNA applied as creative work of evolution,
regenerative as radical paradise
through four seasons of playtime revolution.


Fun Home

For Robin Williams


This seems a funny time to die

right when everything stops working,

play disappears

with terminal humor.

So, is anyone left out there?

Is anyone home

devouring the last bite of this American pie?


I often laughed til I cried

addicted tears of joy

for faith in where we meet

our longing just to join.


I cannot belong here anymore.

Incarnation pulls and tears

addicted to this power of faith

we belong back together,

a jigsaw puzzle cast astray

with no pieces missing

except me, somehow


some place?


Where is my place

when spacetime greys to fog

enclosing colored laughter

in joyless tomb of  mutual decomprehension?


This could be a happy time to die

a final song to reach front page

screaming waves of not so solemn



togathering Earth and Sky,

death with hope,

tear flowing night

of dark ecstatic be-longing.


If I could,

it it would be enough for you,

I would burn my soul

to reach you.

Could we laugh our soul

to teach us once belong a time?


Good morning, america…

this seems a funny time….