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WinWin Invested Wombs

Before dimensional
discontinuous investment returns
of MotherLand
there was a water womb
of continuous gifts
growing through primal matriarchal relationship
of deep gifting vulnerability.

Intimate wonder comes prior to thoughts
of becoming more deeply connected,
invested,
in both natural and spiritual ways.

Warm water womb
births landscapes
for exploring nature-spirits,
whether emerging from a distended womb
or a fertile egg
or a vulnerable seed
filled with wondrous unfolding potential integrities
of previously well-Landed interrelationships.

Restorative justice and peace
originates here,
in water’s intimate embryo
fueled by a gift economy of WinWin Wonder
predicting politically powerful cooperative relationships
should we Land
and continue regeneratiing
restoring Zero-Sum balance
love
harmony
grace
synergy
between Yang passions of well-wombed egos
and yin’s restorative wombs
sufficient
perfect
nutritional nurturing integrity
of purpose
with healthy intent,
vocations reweaving wealthy Landed cultures
born of EarthMother’s vulnerable
intimate politically double-bound warm waters.

For there to be retributive Land beneath our exhausted feet
there was first restorative water
to welcome our potential gifts.

For us to become filled with Earth’s spatial wonders
there was first a timeless bilateral gift economy,
sufficiency as grace
through vulnerable sacred nurturing,
secular nutritioning,
WinWin dipolar exchanges,
wealth of healthing Wonder.

Before the dualism of landscapes
there was water immersion.
Before restorative water,
waves of redistributive winds.
Before winds of time and change and revolutions,
sacred WinWin Wonder.

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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

Rivers of Degrading Memory

Once upon a time
I was merely prescient
in the genes and blood
and air and water
and other ingestions
of our ancestors.

Among these were Elders
who may have stopped along the banks
of the Connecticut and Hudson Rivers
to drink from their sacred streaming source
and fish
and camp under maples and oaks nearby.

When these elders come within prescient me
to see these same rivers now,
perhaps from nearly the same spot,
now an eight-lane concrete highway
for transporting faster capital-invested competitions
lacking sufficient slow river-time for healthy redevelopment,
together we hear and smell,
but dare not taste
nor feel compelled to feel
cool once-clear bathing and drinking water
as when we were here
back in the day
and nights of great river love
and life,
happiness and vocationing prosperity
with plenty of clean and delicious water
and fresh fragrantly invigorating breezes of quiet joy
with pine needles needless
under sometimes naked running feet.

But we,
my generation
and that before
and before
back discontinuously through industrializing
and commodifying
and commercializing
and capitalizing degenerations,
we are now trying to remind ourselves
that what we currently must not drink
or even taste,
probably don’t want to touch
much less smell
and even less actually jump into it
and all the broken glass
and rusted car parts
embedded in its toxic death bed,
this is what we must accept as our new normal.

This unraveling of my Elders’ rivers
to the point of toxic exhaustion
is my expected price of admission
to all my New England happy birthdays
for continuing prosperity
and freedom and dignity for all,
except the rivers
and the air
and those they feed,
and the pine needle kindling
that remembers our Elders to this day,
back when we were more cooperatively invested
in asking and responding to
Why can’t we all just get along
together?

Rather than compete for how rationally
we could tear apart
memories of Elders
first seeing and hearing and smelling
promising prescient delights
of bountiful Hudson
and Connecticut Rivers
still healthy flowing
for and with and of and in their great grandkids.

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Uncategorized

Secret Lives of Shame

We could speak together,
Decry rabid violence of chronically stressed kids
and young adults acting like kids,
apparently regardless of income or race;
perhaps not of enculturation.

Feeling claustrophobic,
anxious about an unpromising competitive future,
drowning in inch-deep and narrow-specialized peer and mentoring relationships,
without therapeutic merit, or even intent;
these are commonly anticipated
in overpopulating species,
whether RNA-regenerate plants
or DNA-endowed with language and memory
about consuming and producing re-investments in people
meeting them at their diverse seasonal stages of development.

In the Secret Life of Trees
we discover MotherTrees nurturing their vulnerable saplings
in ways that balance natural nurturance with ecosystemic culling
to optimize Her ForestTribe’s ecopolitical balance and harmony
of organic thrival function.

Saplings born in poor rocky soil,
where MotherTree must choose optimal light and water for all,
not just through Her sapling’s young adult maturation,
but also their capacity to raise their own healthywealth
grandbaby saplings,
The poorly sited sapling
is ecologically abandoned too soon,
re-joining Earth’s reforesting skin
of Sacred Ecology,
holonic RNA and DNA decompositions,
preparing Time’s regenerative composting entropic mid-way.

Abortion,
in response to ecopolitical feelings of overpopulation
and under-whelming future resource prospects,
bears this resemblance to culling out weak futures,
typical of rabid chronically stressed populations,
especially young adults,
younger MotherTrees,
not yet ready to provide sufficient shade
and light,
water and vitality,
regenerative future potential
for Seven ReGenerations.

But,
abortion here in secret lives of Trees
is not a hidden or shameful loss
and lack of respect for sacred polyculturing
reforesting ecosystemic life vocations,
but more of a neighborhood forest decision,
a loss to MotherTree
and to struggling Sapling
to be reborn as compost
refueling Sacred Earth’s cooperative ecopolitical root systems,
RNA landscapes
for future DNA-sensed,
and spoken,
healthier climate times,
not quite so post-millennially overpopulated
with chronic adolescent and young adult messages,
You are neither economically needed
nor politically wanted
nor ecologically even probable.
Somehow lost in WinLose
cognitive-affective dualdark dissonance
about aborting culling futures of neglect,
and even violent abuse,
and the ultimate eclipse of ego/eco,
Left with Right,
Yang with Yin,
re-alignment of (0)-Soul.

Human nature has uncovered many abortive culling tools.
Some of these engage scalpels and chemicals,
but much more popular
and accessible
are guns and knives
and nationalistic guaranteed and warrantied wars,
paranoid official and unofficial militias of Rifle Associations
and race and culture and nature and spirit Elitisms,
profoundly active distrusts
of Sacred WinWin Ecological Wisdom.

I have no active faith and trust,
that if we each responded to our on-line friends
and followers
and allies
the way we don’t respond to our RealTime families
and neighbors
and people we don’t really know
for whatever distancing reasons,
we would have a better, more cooperative, on-line time
of regenerative laughter and mutual trusting regard.

I would expect instead,
in face of isolating shaming and blaming experience,
our VirtualTime environments would decompose any remaining vulnerabilities
into monoculturing rabid chronic paranoia
of stressed-out-sourced indigestion
into further domestic RealTime chaos,
Business As ClimatePathology Usual.

Abortions by matriarchal benign neglect
may be as old as MotherTrees,
but culling marginal populations through elitist patriarchal abuse
appears to be a more recent shame and blame
DNA-inspired monoculturing decomposition
within uber-elitist inhumane populations,
root systems no longer playing WinWin reforestation.

We could speak and listen together.
We could also sing and dance
and walk and reweave root systemically together
without racing and enslaving and over-competing against
each other person and plant and forest,
to reforest Earth’s WinWin PolyPhonic Paradise.

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Uncategorized

Slow Grown Sunrise

Some mornings I slow down.
If you saw me this morning,
you might reasonably conclude
I could not possibly reduce my productive pace,
a social disgrace,
slogging through my domestic place.

Days, or at least my light within each day,
grow shorter,
while everything remains to be done
to care for future generations
of children
and puppies
and cubs
and kittens
and kids
and calves.

Yet dawn silently screeches toward timelessness
as I realize
I was produced
in a moment of ecstasy,
but also nine-months prepared to thrive
on Earth,
while my unique,
yet resonantly symbiotic, DNA
is born of prehistoric generations,
back when time and light’s productive moments
were measured in full and empty,
ecstatic and aptic,
rising toward another regenerative morning,
and setting toward yet another sacred decomposing night.

It is this slow memory of near timelessness
that revolves through my bones and flesh
and is cooperatively shared
not just with my own Win-matriarchal
and Win-patriarchal lines,
but also our globally shared regeneration
through timeless ecstatic moments
of symbiotic great transitions,
commencing nine months for each preparation
to greet our brothers and sisters,
cousins and families
extending back through competing histories
and cooperative matriarchal nutrition and health mentoring,
fire and wind and water and safety education,
revolving through slow-growth wisdom
of timeless sunrise,
oceans of DNA an Elder RNA,
regenerative,
synchronic
places and times,
landscapes
and heathy creolizing climates.

I have bloomed and wilted
where I have been planted,
and where I have chosen to plant myself,
and our future
greeting past revolving sacred memories,
here with now.

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Classism USA

Many U.S. citizens
deny that democratic civility and classism can,
and often do,
co-exist.

These tend to be
those who also deny
the multigenerational inheritance of enslaving racism
in defense of egalitarian beliefs
about dignity and indignities of human life,
where some have access to personal and habitat and economic health
by right,
while others,
often born multigenerationally poor,
have yet to earn their equal health care receiving rights
until they have paid their economic care-giving dues
for another decade or generation
or two
or three
or more,
who knows?

So good to know
we live in a culture
without classism,
and certainly without racism.

We just think,
using that term loosely,
that everybody should live equally
separately
as things have always been since,
well…
back to the days of slavery and Kings,
the way God originally ordained,
after the Paradise Forest of Eden,
of course,
which is all our own damned Original Sin fault.

Nodoby would want to go all the way back
to that radical absence of classism
and racism
ReGenerative Creation Story.

Or,
maybe we would?
perhaps we could?
possibility we multiculturally should?

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