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GrandMother Moses

I was minding our own ancient business,
making maple and brown sugar oatmeal
for my constantly
and instantly
devouring daughter,
when GrandMother Moses
of Poetic Narrative
broke into my day:

frankly, I didn’t even know She could speak

Racism and Patriarchalism
are the inside Angry
and outside Terrified voices
perpetuating retributive injustice
and capital-value monopolistic
monocultural
monotheistic
win/lose competitive models
of Left v Right,
West v East,
North v South
Ego v EcoHabitat

VerbalMind v NonVerbalEmbodied
multiculturing intelligence
with ego/eco-cooperative therapeutic intent.

Then the kettle
began to whistle
a just-in-time
win/win
ecopolitical reminder
we can choose to compare
and contrast
across a spectrum
of win/lose
through lose/lose
toward appositional co-arising win/win
with sufficient
just-right/left
out/in hot water
and maple with brown sugar oatmeal
to feed our constantly
instantly hungry
potential EarthMothers.

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Uncategorized

Peace Mediating Poetry

Thanks so much for forwarding
these John Paul Lederach stories
of un-learning academic approaches
to peace mediation.

I wonder if you remembered
my ongoing certification process
for justice-restoring mediation
in complex multicultural conflicting histories;
which are typically antithetical to resilient peace
through ongoing safe and healthy relationships.

With this background,
I was struck by “un-learning”.

To regain his poetic heart,
to remain resonant interdependently forward,
to give priority to emotional intelligence,
to remain actively curious about multicultural context,
and win/win strategic roots of issue-devolution,
we do well to relearn left-brain dominant communication lessons
to co-arise right-mind prominent compassionate listening
before speaking of how to win more,
or at least lose less,
through competitive win/lose
either/or assumptions
contrary to the opulence of Nature-Spirit
function and flow ZeroZone patterns
everywhere immanently transcendent.

From this non-dualistic place
un-learning academic cognition hierarchical models,
maps pointing up to win
and down to comparatively lose conflicts
of self-survival interest,
feels more like relearning both/and,
higher and wider and deeper points
of left with right minded skills,
loves within interdependent complex feelings
thoughts
passions
curious cooperative historical interests,
emerging courageously power-with
2020 re-vision anticipations.

May Sarton, sometimes a poet, observes
“It is good for a professional
to be reminded…
professionalism is only a husk,

That the real person
must remain an amateur,
a lover of the work.”

“…if to be a poet
means allowing life to flow through one
rather than forcing” love/life
“to a mold the will has” calcified;…

“If it means learning…
the day shape[s] the work,
not [just] the work,
the day,
and so live toward essence
as naturally as a bird
or a flower”

In a meadow
arrayed in warm-lit splendor
health and beauty,
healthy beautiful wealth
optimized by transcendent right-brain interdependence,
metaphoric neurological relationship,
analogical
ecological
theological re-communication,
holonic co-operation with Earth-wombed Mother’s
healthiest past through future.

We are increasingly invited,
by left with right minded correlations,
to want to do
what our healthiest ego says we must,
and to love what we ego-must
do to ego-eco-theo-logically want
to retain wealth of cooperative inter-communion,
healthy immanent/transcendent relationship climates
becoming/being the opposite of excommunicated,
the apposition of impeached
by disloyal and hate-filled over-reactions
heralded by the insufficient love
of our hierarchical and too-monocultural forefathers

Invites us to restore EarthJustice
one momentary win/win relationship choice
in a lifetime of sacred multicultural invitations.

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Uncategorized

Nutritional Pathways

Resonant metaphors are nourishing polypaths
analogous to rich polyphonic relationships
comparing polynomial poetic communications
complexly contrasting nondual polarities

For those with humane identities
informed by richly cultivated Win/Win faith
to hear and feel eco-them
as the healthiest integrity
with curiously wealthy
courageous ego-us

Building not necessarily not
ZeroSoul metaphors
appealing not to and not for,
but always integrally with,
ZeroSum polypathic potential.

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Uncategorized

Poetic License to Kill, or Heal, or Both

I recently read a politically incorrect prolific poet,
or so I thought at the time,
or more felt than thought,
more truthfully,
integrally,

Who said, If poetry is politically correct,
it cannot be poetry.

So, if he is politically correct
in this statement,
is he thereby also not a poet in good standing?

An enigma to which I respond,
If so, then politically incorrect messages
also cannot be poetic,
but tragically disempowering.

Meaning that poetry has power
to change how we feel,
and sometimes listen
and sometimes speak about our relationships.

What are political relationships
if not correctly co-empowering
and incorrectly fragmenting
and disempowering–
without healthy reason
and without wealthy rhyme.

But, now I see this poet’s concern more intentionally.
If a poet’s intent is merely political correctness,
orthodox dogma of some monoculturally dangerous variety,
with no faithful participation
in change,
in our ongoing collective integrity,
potentiating,
developing,
shifting
co-relational organic powers for healthy communicating minds
still hoping to feed and feel healthy bodies,
then wealthy empowerment
becoming metaphorically richer
on Earth’s universal meaning together,
not accessible by apartheid and absolute supremacy,
with synergetic beauty
become mere utilitarian truth,
LeftBrain propaganda
politically severed,
and thereby RightBrain incorrect.

WinWin bicameral therapeutic intent
is politically correct,
empowering,
as seen in narratives of healing
and epic poetry
of time’s co-relational passage
musing into Paradise/Hell
nutritionally/toxically becoming

Where time
celebrates/ignores rhyme
and natural seasons
speak with/without spiritual co-relational reasons.

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Scriptures of Communion

In prose,
Writers hope to accurately capture
both felt and thought experiences,
realistic and unrealistic,
in a way that suggests
our writer knows and can deeply feel
the differences and similarities
between realistic and not so much.

Poets hope to not only capture
accurately felt and thought experiences,
realistic and unrealistic,
natural and spiritual,
but share this internal experience
embedding and thereby challenging
writers’ readers in shared language of communion.

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The Perpetual Beginner Poet

This may come as large surprise,
but I did once take a beginner’s poetry class
which I often confuse with my beginner parenting class.

In which we learned good verse
and voice
have structure
pattern
imprinting rhythm
rich metaphoric content
perhaps even epic regenerative story,
assonant bouquet,
climates of hue and cry.

Who would or could a poet be
or hope to at last become
and yet unresponsively disagree?

Not me.

Even so,
if what I write
cannot resonate within your calling day,
and hopefully tomorrow
and resiliently flow on back
through all your best, not worst,
imagined yesterdays,
Then we are not yet our resonant poetry
so it is not so richly mine,
nor true poetry at disfamiliar all
of any kind
or mean spirit
natural
or unnatural.

Strong poetry cannot flow anonymously
autonomous.

My poetic muse shrinks,
like wound from salt,
from capital competing
absent co-infested resonance
resiliently wounded assonance
cooperative co-governance
restorative resilience
of integrity’s best eco-aspirations.

Poetry
with green me
grows not only rhythmic swell
and political ebb,
but also liberating healthy smell
and not so hoarding ego fell.

Poetry praises time we share
nakedly co-resonant,
resplendent as spiritual underwear
inviting nature’s brilliant subharmonies
to speak again full-voiced revival choir
without degenerate
autonomous
naked despair

In which we learn good verse
and voice
have structure
pattern
imprinting rhythm,
rich analogic content,
perhaps even revolutionary story,
assonant bouquet,
climates of secular hue
and sacred silent cry.

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