Uncategorized

Competing Roads to Peace

History,
one of the Muses,
like Music,
and Poetry,
and Liturgical FireCircle Dance,
and Regenerative Design,
offers three types of fertility/bereavement stories:

Yangy War stories,
Yinnish Peace stories,
And everything in-between life and death,

Hybrids of diverse creative and degenerative tensions
struggling with and against each Other.

War stories remind us
no one is special dead.

Peace stories reweave us
Everyone is uniquely special
called and challenged
fully alive

In-between stories
restore and destroy
special meanings
for and against unanimous death
of EarthlyOther
as our co-empathic EgoSelves.

War stories sadly proliferate
like BlackFriday tragedy shopping hours
and NRA ViolenceFirst! membership cards
and automated death machines
and climate sickness
in public squares
and private circles
of remunerative capital despair.

Peace stories gladly integrate
ThanksGiving Days
toward peaceful everyday Advent
of new born communal princes and princesses
living healthy happily ever paradise after
integrity of war-torn story ends.
Sometimes we call PeaceStories
love stories.
I won’t even try to list all the bad names
we sometimes give competing WarStories,
children are probably deeply listening,

But,
They all seem to have something sinister to do
with reducing Earth’s natural fertility
to mere spiritualized manure,
toxic attitude,
definitely not centered in ultra-nonviolet gratitude
for PeaceStories
and their MultiCulturing Muses.

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Uncategorized

Great White Father

About those anti-BadNewsMedia rallies
while our SouthWest is burning
and while our SouthEast is flooding
and wet windstorm conflagrating,
feeling the flamed-up wrath
of an angry EarthGoddess,

Why do you plant and nurture hate
and anger
against potential WinWin integral communicators?

Did it not once occur to you
to wonder why you chose to be elected
in this climate precarious time?

Why are you like BadNews zealously mendacious Saul
when we so obviously need a more integrated St. Paul?
Filled and overflowing with healthy integrity,
Holy Matriarchal Spirit-Nature.

Your mockery
and tongue-lashing
and transparent ego-promotion
will not help one child
recall what a great job you did
while made in U.S. of A. family homes
and forests are burning
longer and stronger
every devolutionary decade.

Your egotism
and anthropocentrism
further inflame climate disasters
and absence of accessible health care,
cooperatively given as received,
and healthy wealth of economic and politically reasonable reassurance
that, together,
as a healthy bicameral democracy,
we can rebuild this co-dominating
co-operative constitutional
integrity we so redemptively WinWin need

We need to gather to heal Earth’s climates,
not to destroy them
with bad attitude and vilifying pathologies
rather than gratitude and health-wealth celebrations
to restore justice and invite cooperatively owned peace
into ego/eco-centered green health hearts
and wealth societies
reforesting our WinLose deserts,

Revolve
resolve our storming desserts
for past hubris
of Great White Fathers
demanding missionary colonization
inflaming idolatrous hate
rather than inviting
our seas to still
our surviving trees to witness our worship.

One difference between you
and Barack Hussein
I notice you never mention:

You look at historical outcomes
for nature/spirit WinWin Native Americans
and gleefully declare
“They lost!”
Barack recalls those same disempowering outcomes
and sadly, yet more patriotically, notes
“We all lost.”

I wonder if the burning homes
and trees
can hear that terrifying empathic difference
for future integrity
of a mental and physical
mind and body
spiritual and natural healthy democracy.

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Deep Learning Games

When we are new born,
and perhaps reborn,
we know nothing of past and future.
Only here as now.

As we age
we become at risk
of allowing authority of past WinLose experience
to strike terror
where also lies potential opportunity
for future WinWin responsible integrities–

regenerate resilience reborn
as a seed speaks of hope,
a tree speaks of good healthy faith,
this theological planet revolves around
and between
and within WinWin love–

climate healthy grace.

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Challenged Young Men

When is the difference between
a terrorist
and a challenged young man
not a realistic distinction?

When the young man
grows up in an NRA culture
celebrating justified evangelical military violence;

Choices for death
by automated
ballistic
monoculturing
rabid
force.

Military cultures
teach mental illness,
social pathology
of living in a fundamentally dualistic world
that is ecologically anti-trusting
and theologically
notsecular-notsacred double-binding
LoseLose dualistic

MADenning
Mutual Assured Destruction
rather than Mutual Acclimating Restoration
WinWin polypathic pedalogical.

 

 

 

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Uncategorized

Taliban Tales

How wrong could I be
were I to assume
most Taliban leaders
in Afghanistan
have aging parents?

Especially mothers,
as it is not specifically healthy
to be a male in such a violent
raped
poverished,
nutritionally-barren place

And Taliban parents
might also have kids hungry and thirsty
and afraid to give us grandkids,
for economic and political starvation reasons.

It might occur to healthy energy democratic leaders
thinkers and feelers
that feeding
and restoring healthy therapeutic ecosystems
could grow better polycultural Afghanistan wealth outcomes
promised by Allah
and YHWH alike.

Restorative, rather than more extractive, retributive justice
could work more WinWin effectively,
than continuing bad karma retributive violent goals
of assured mutual environmental destruction
and inhumane death and dying and terrorizing
paranoid children,
and other forms of almost incalculable dismay
through strategies rooted in punishment
and threat
and counter-terrorism terror,
visiting the sins of fathers
upon Yang soldiers
and Yin sacred daughters and aging mothers alike.

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Traveling Death Salesman

I can’t sleep.
Or, I can
and did
for three hours
but I continue waking
into a Stephen King nightmare
too real to ignore
because I feel isolated
in this quagmire
of hopeless history.

In this my collective nightmare,
President Trump goes to Saudi Arabia
like Mr. Smith goes to Washington,
bold as an August justice day,
to sell 110 billion dollars of U.S. manufactured ballistics
in this heart of Middle East thirst
for violence–
like selling dope to jonesing crack addicts.

This deal is signed in the blood of our children
then celebrated in full glare of multi media spotlights
with blood dripping off our chins
and hands.
This is a really sweet success
for climate health and freedom fighters
and, oh yes,
our wealthy industrious friends
who rake in their riches
on the strong back
of capitalism’s vaguely cannibalistic WinLose addictions.

This nightmare continues on to Israel
where Jewish leaders wait
until our blood-stained ambassador
of international arm-sales corruption
turns his back
before at last declaring their alarm,
echoed at his next stop
in the Vatican
where even this home of history’s Crusades
finds such dark triumphalism
a bit too treacherously much.

Yet, as often as I awake within this bloodshed bacchanal
blaring with unseemly deep night trumpets
I also wake to total BusinessAsUsual silence
here in this U.S. home.

Here it feels alien accepted
that this is whom we have near bloodlessly become,
crack and frack and oil addicts
selling our preferred markets of death
in exchange for oil
or cash,
our democratically held self-esteem so low
we cannot remember our lowest common denominator
used to be a shared multiculturing Golden Rule.

We have better stuff to sell
for hope of light
not deadly despair.

So here I sit
in the middle of this night’s terrifying domestic silence,
wide awake with guilt
about such dark leadership
we have loosed in a troubling Earth
longing for even just one drop of climate sanity.

110 billion dollars re-invested.
Ours
to grease these well oiled wheels
of military industrializing tycoons
even General President Eisenhower
warned us against.

I guess healing our planet
and our extending brother-sister relationships
will have to wait
until all our guns
and oil,
bombs
and hate,
soldiers
and their innocent children
are gracelessly gone.

I doubt that dawn will ever come again,
yet worry what new macabre celebrations
in vampire cannibalistic capitalism
may appear across our morning screens,
knocking on and out and through our back doors
while our children sleep
in too short innocence.

110 billion for nihilistic death and terror sales
and not one entrepreneurial peep in protest
of sacrilegious prancing.
It is this screaming silence of abject immoral despair
that continues awaking me,
hoping I might see midnight lights
of kindred nightmare souls
haunted by such dark blood business
baldly broadcast as if to help us better sleep.

I toss and turn alone
while other childlike immigrants on Earth
sleep through 110 billion bloody nightmares.

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In Season And Out

In and around Auschwitz
Barbed wire still weeps
through too long denied rain.

In and around Annihilation
Denied climates fast creep
toward pathology’s pain.

Through surrounding Anger
Charged hate denies sleep
for those who must explain.

In tyrannic Acid
Barbed boundaries sweep
out lies of monstrous strain.

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