Uncategorized

Dear Donald, Again

I fear you cast yourself in lights too grand
and powerful.

Is it not enough
to acknowledge this legal investigation
of whether you have intended to use your limited powers
for obstructing justice,
fairness,
equity?

You go too far
casting yourself as a witch
hunted for misuse of powers
intended for promoting justice,
fairness,
ecological equity.

Donald Trump,
you are merely President
by minority vote;
you are no hunted witch.

Except, of course,
within your own alternatively factual universe.

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Uncategorized

AntiClimatic Cabinetry

Community organizers
and multiculturing regenerators
and organic whole food farmers
all agree
we tend to end up
back to where historically empowered nutritional voices started.

Look at all these old white men
in their predominantly red meat patriarchal ties.

Is this a cabinet
made of polyculturing organic containers
for regenerate multicultural growth?

Or a funeral
for the not too soon departing
all WhiteHouse?

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Uncategorized

Earth’s Eulogy

Mothers have come
from throughout Earth
to bury our post-Trumpian dead.
Bringing both gifts and lamentations
as each finds appropriate
for healing
what cannot be stanched
and scabbed.

As gathering
we choose who will speak among us,
for this Earth eulogy.

At last our voices conjoin as bilateral one,
speaking back through history
and forth toward fading lack of future.

We have come from left to right,
north and south,
west through east,
patriarchal states
and matriarchal families
to bury our dead children
sacrificed for bipolarizing divisions
unwilling to wait
for this our dipolar co-arising
of healing cooperative polities
bilaterally harmonic co-investments
in Earth’s Original CoIntelligence.

We have come to bury and burn depleting polarities
but also to praise cooperative dipolarities
transforming this global revolution
away from climates of pathology,
here buried
burning climates of health regenerativity
here praised,
celebrating conflagration,
honored with both sacred and secular blood
of Earth-natured dispiriting loss.

We bury patriarchal losses to envy
and nationalism’s violent criminalizing greed
for lethal commodities,
once our productive sons and daughters
born through matriarchal love reborn.

We burn
in celebrated loss,
cut off from our resonant futures
through this inferno stink
of human flesh in cedar casket trees
no longer standing solidarity
of embryonic birth.

Our wombs like seeds
extend back
toward Earth’s first emerging dawn
now expiring
in this last flame of funereal dusk.

We disperse with silence
into this night,
each alone together
celebrating future songs
of praise for incentivizing peace
ever more resonantly co-resolving,
redeeming cooperative economies
of life for living love
not death for dissonant despair.

We witness this long new moon night
and following dawn
breaks to summarizing bottom-line headlines
for Mother Earth evolving stories,
turning creolization right side up
with multicultural agreements,
ecopolitical consensus.

No more
begin with war
to then follow by dividing up
the Father’s devolving spoils
for future competitions
in aggressive capital
self-inflation.

For ever more
default with WinWin peaceful resolutions
following resonant reweaving
of matriarchal regenerational co-investment,
multiplying healthy nutritional wealth,
polypathic dipolar,
co-arising polyphonic bounty
back to time’s embryo,
this dynamic universe’s original
enculturing intent.

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Uncategorized

Dear Donald

I know how much it means to you
to protect my health and safety.

And, for this purpose,
to stop the terror,
end the ballistic killing
within these disuniting States,
please ban the NRA,
and stop selling guns
to those with histories
of mental illness.

The statistics,
facts,
both real and alternative,
all inform quite clearly,
if you would put this same energy
you have invested
in keeping out
those who would reinvest in,
to helping out
those who already disinvest of our domestic peace
and nonviolence,
then this killing Association already here
might calm down
enough so you could hear
the silence of those seeking
absence of threat and violence.

Thanks so kindly
for your first priority attention
to these matters
of real lives and deaths,
in contrast to those you have imagined.

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Uncategorized

Special Suffrage

Since our most recent U.S. Presidential non-selection,
for one thing a Trumpian could not become
is therapeutically presidential,
I have become worried about our democratic suffrage.

Perhaps only mothers, or maybe also fathers,
of kids with special vulnerability needs
should be allowed to vote,
or perhaps each and all allowed to vote,
but only special needs parents to vote twice.

With each vote cast,
whether one or two,
this vote is cast for healthy futures
wealthiest nutrients imaginable
for future generations with increasingly special climate needs.

It may take a special mom,
a compassionately vulnerable dad,
to truly see each child has special needs
to regenerate toward full strength wealth of health
accessible to those born harmed
by an increasingly rabid ecopolitics
of every man for himself
(and also women and children, if and as time allows)
in a Might Makes Triage Right evolving world
of actively distrusting revolutions
between aristocrats who harvest power
and special needs kids
who, by comparison, harvest not,
and never ever will.

Unless, or course,
we might conquer democratic potential
and original intent
by electing candidates whose primary experience
of electoral special needs value
are WinWin outcomes as moms,
and maybe even dads,
of kids with climate healthing special needs
well met
suffrage through discontent.

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HiStory Times

Once upon an evolving time
we were a great first nation,
or second nation,
depending on your historical perspective,
but definitely not a third nation
although some cooperative economists
thought we might be competing ourselves
in that over-invested and ego-inflationary direction.

This first and second nation
had grown tired of electing puppy dogs,
with bought and sold kennel cough
and regurgitation,
as Chief.

Living within this mighty nation was a Big Bad Wolf
who campaigned by shouting “Wolf”
and cheerleading for BigBad Woolfacism,
and the sleepy and bored people
found this exciting as if more entertainment
must be a change for better
rather than almost unimaginable worse
and so nearly half of them
stumbled into dog-eared polls
and elected Chief B.B. Wolf.

B.B. Wolf took his wolfish degenerative promises somewhat seriously,
thinking, sort of, and both reasonably and unreasonably enough,
this was why he was new Chief Wolf,
but became frustrated
as he learned the larger half who had impudently voted for Other
were more hoping for a Big CoOperative Wolf
which he considered more of a Big Bad Bitch.

Tired of hearing “Wolf!..Wolf!”
and “Come hither Bitch!”
twittered and beeped and compressed across every media outlet,
this battered tribe began turning off their radios
at mere mention of B.B. Wolf,
stopped choosing to read his anti-potlatch tweets,
boycotted every paper and editor and blogger,
story teller and poet
who dared mention Chief Wolf
and his campaign of blighting promises
and threats
and competing WinLose compromises
and fake news
and non-events
and non-plans
and non-design
and non-cooperative
and non-trust
non-sense
non-sensed
non-sensing
non-sensual
non-sensical scrambling politics.

This went on for near a week
before B.B. Wolf’s press secretary
called a Briefing
to which no one came but him, or her,
depending on which secretary drew the shortest straw that morning.
No one even briefly bothered hearing for sure
which came to represent
further dissonance and dismay.

By afternoon
even B.B. Wolf heard his own empty echoing chambers
and twittered “Never mind.
I’m the first and best Chief
to ever hold a Brief without pressing business anyway.”
Then announced he would be happy to try something new,
to mindfully listen to questions and comments
and concerns
to see if we might together become smart enough
to come up and down with some well-planned feasible answers,
somewhere this side of more fake non-news,
non-events,
etc…

Someone
way in the back of the smallest press room
in the smallest town
in the shortest State,
some BBB, no doubt,
as the Chief would later say,
asked him what Saudi Arabia
might have been willing to invest in
with less toxic outcomes
if he had offered wholesale
on trees and organic edibles,
wind turbines and solar panels,
natural construction and organic gardening
and nutritional militias
armed with our best good regenerative seeds
and permacultural nurturing designs
for care-giving and -receiving
and global cooperative health insurance
and mutual wealth of resonance assurance.

Still, he had promised to think about it
and so he did the best he could
within his echoing silo.
But the next day
all this nation’s media
on- and off-polypathic communication lines
that spacetime 4D regenerative mattered
twittered and tweeted
blogged and editorially bleated
mindful questions
and cooperative “Yes…and…” responses
listed blisteringly out loud
like positive organic healthy yeast
far too deep and rich for B.B.. Wolf to hope for continuing control
much less to actually nurture and manna lead
like a Big Good Wolf might have started,
and then watched what we together might have remade.

He “Wolf!”ed to agree to disagree
and did so endlessly
but all the larger half not in his fan base
and at least half of his smaller half of former followers
were much too busy
refilling all his negatives
with their WinWins
“Yes that healthy choice,
and how about this nutrition too?”
instead of their old degenerating
WinLose
anti-climatic ways.

This remained such the larger gospel reweaving story
B.B. Wolf had no one to rant at
and, frankly, not much to do
other than playing golf
and counting his money
which were his trump cards anyway.

And so it is this story began
with selecting Chief B.B Wolf
and ends
with everybody living happily
and healthy wealthing ever after.

A moral of and for this story:
That’s what big bad wolves are for,
to show you what is best
to more relentlessly ignore.

But,
I’m sure we can, together,
think of both…and nutritional more.

Our Beginning:

Once upon an evolving time
we were a great first nation
and second cooperatively matriarchal established state,
co-depending on her-historical perspectives…

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Uncategorized

The Voice

Ecopolitics of music appreciation and performance
is not about race,
other than sufficiency of syncopating rhythm and pace,
nor only about competing subcultures,
although this comes closer to my soul matter.
Multiculturing music resonance appreciation
is about ecopolitical range of emotion
acutely and precisely and overwhelmingly articulated
sometimes with dancing performance motions
appropriate to deep wise lyrical resolutions.

Rooted in my permacultural music appreciation class
of many multiculturing octaves,
when choosing my richest and deepest performing Voice,
I am inclined toward denser Chris Blues
over simpler Country-Western one-octave ranges,
devoid of EastCoast creolic jazzy gospel shakes and rocks
and rolling moves.

Probably for similar ecopolitical music appreciation reasons,
I would not choose to replay a dissonant Trump card
when seeking both deep and widely healthy WinWin outcomes,
especially when our choice
is for lead ecopolitical health-wealth Voice.

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