Damp Grey Climate

On rain drenched mornings
words may feel too heavy
to absorb dense Truth,

May smell too bleached
to taste thin Beauty,

May sound too restrictive
to recreate revolutionary visions.

Yet, absence of words
may sound too drenched
in universal drizzle
to comfort,
to circulate lively blood
for warm interior climate cleansing

Rain water
tomorrow’s more fertile
silent soil
silk skinned soul.


Silent Skirmishes

Words as offensive weapons
dwell on ugliness of bad-humored life.

Words as effective tools
dwell on beauty and truth
of good-humored health,

Yet, swords become plowshares.
Plowshares are used as unwieldy swords.
Regenerative intent becomes degenerative chaos.
Degenerative discontent becomes regenerate
tipping point
within silent complexity.

Can words become weapons
for active peace?
And still tools
feeling quietly unresolved internal wars?

Between curious ancient communioned minds
and courageous ego bodies,

Between original health-tooled womb
And today’s wealth-weaponed tidal means,
unsustained strength
yet resiliently flowing ways,
transparent brother dissonance
voicing sister confluence
through empowering vulnerability;
revolutionary stillness
actively listening
between quiet health-wombed rememories.

Wisely employed wellness tools
for feminist well-being weapons;
cooperatively-managed words
for hearing embeautied Truths,
re-seeing Ways,
rekindling communicating Lives;
revolutionary politics,
awesome economics,
wondrous revitalization,
compassionate communion.


Tools Become Weapons

LeftBrain uses words
like communal tools
and autonomous weapons

While RightBrain invites rhythms and patterns of sound
and silence
like poetry
and lyrics,
sometimes angry and frightened turbulence
sometimes loving and reassuring sibilants
murmuring Earth’s quietness.

Of these,
LeftBrain weaponed words
cannot be truly free
speech to unwarned
so unprotected
listening libertarians,
messages fired against militant non-listeners
already armed to demolish
voices unprepared for retribution.

Healthy tools become deadly weapons
when used against
those they were transparently designed
to vulnerably serve
strength of LeftBrain truth
as RightBrain’s chiming beauty.

Without these two
held proactively together,
free speech is any message
from any medium
tragically unfree.


Word Producers

Producing large quantities of words
cleverly without considered substance,

Unveiling my needy novel entertaining intentions
yet not revealing news or even pretensions
about who I today am
or tragically have been,

Is this fertility
or merely self-absorbing pregnancy?

If the distance
between Earth’s nature
and Heaven’s spirit
is as precisely wide
and concisely deep
as a filament
figment of my imagination,

Then what could true or lie between
ecological processes of health
and theological systems of graced wealth?

If nothing lies polarizing between,
Then what more silence
need remain
dissonance unsaid?


If I Could Take Time Back

If I could take it back
I would.
When I can bring you back
I will
make our bad word weapons disappear
so your heart and hope need not despair.

If I could repair your strong-heart soul
rich with vital confidence,
you can do this,
you can be this,
you are part of this,
in your way
which is a right way
for us to become with you,
you are doing this,
we are doing this together.

If I can take it back
I do
absorb our black ballistic tones
in minor tragic keys I aimed your way
out of my own fears
I can not love you fierce enough
to remember you must know
this extended Earth-stream has your back,
is your back,
together with you,
part of you,
always voting Yes for mutual wins,
where love embraces our shared hope
and not despair.

If you could catch this hope from me,
please do.


Sound Barriers

Words must wait for welcome
within this sacred green laced vista,
a cathedral incubating nuances of light
and shadow,
of succulent sway
inviting minds and tiny bodies
to come along this way,
then that,
billowing breeze
then soporific tease
lulling silent waves of blue grey clouds
continue on their more steady play,

Twilight looms for this day
and life,
more peaceful without ego’s endless string
of intrusive
anthro-culturally enslaved,

Waiting to welcome new winds of time,
noticing this embrace
within Earth’s voracious voice,
vibrant flow
welcoming this time to go,


Spacetime Lament


I’ve said it all before,

last time you firmly closed my door.


Where have my words dreamed since then,

hiding fugitives in labyrinthine recesses,

backwaters of insane progress

confidently processing toward unknown intent?


I’ve feared it all before.

This flirtive closing door

on other sides far too vast

with needs sucking out my lungs

squeezing timid-static heart

closing rich sensory prehensile shutters

until concaving Yin weeps with righteous loneliness.


She’s sung it all before

time’s merciless karmic door

open always as before

yet No Admission

without formal dress,

accessorized dysfunction.



You’ll say it all again

next time I mercy fuck your home.


What will your words do next time,

laughing boldly through primordial eclipse,

surging equinoxing rivers

streaming global madness fear?


You’ll find me once again,

my grace-open salvific door.

Death’s other side slowly swims

languidly breathing advent into

fertile faith-ballooning diastasis,

wide-sweeping invite into ego-silence,

warm echo belonging,

blanketing Yang’s eternal karmic kiss.


He’ll dance with Yin again

in carnaling EarthTribe’s permacultured soil

zero-carbon holonic balancing

banquet for all Earth to savor

frequent fractal organic fusions.


I’ve said this all before

time gave birth to four dia-metric space,

biological, binomial, and bicameral,

in Bucky’s regenerate,


geometric (0) soul-fractal place.



Yang encultured power praxis,

male-dominatrix history.

Yin polyculturally integrating harmony,

feminist nutrient permaculture.

Revolve in RNA’s relational fractal structure,

regenerating natural systemic template:

U = +P

C = (-)NP

A = Yang-convex Vertex

G = Yin-concave’s Dark Vortex

cooperatively stringing


EarthTribe’s eternal memory code.