Get Well Soon

I don’t mind raising a ruckus
about injustice, people called
luckless when in fact they’re
strangled at birth, the future earth
a tangled rumor they have heard
but never felt,
trafficked by greedy manipulators
of belief. It’s tragic. The rich
construct an idyll for arrival
if only you work hard for just
another cycle, betray your brother,
deafen your heart to your soul’s
calling, you’ll be falling
on your feet tout de suite.
I share this improbable bloom
this glorious hibiscus just for you.
Celebrate your delicate beauty
available here today, the way
through the hustle of
unintegrated past that masquerades
as future, beckons, preens
triggering a chance to be seen.
We’re swimming in collective trauma
eyes open in the midst of drama,
reaching out to those swept away.
I cannot save you. I am revealed.
Hiding enslaves you so I’m
calling out the crimes, being
with my flaws, intent to heal.

Inspired by: Rumor, Traffic, Cycle and Ruckus.

Soundcloud recording here.

My Capacity To Resonate

Something emerging through the listening.~Thomas Huebl

He said, step into the shoes
of the perceived other and

I miss baba ghanoush, especially
—my one-time specialty—

of all the nightshades banned.
Oh, I understand when inflammation

is the only game in town,
each culprit a revelation

as I regain ground lost
off balance. It’s not by chance

that I exchange dairy and gluten
for freerange bison, high-falutin’

local food only, who knew?
Tomatoes and peppers taboo.

How must they feel, excluded,
deemed dangerous and never included

in my menu? Ah, loves,
our separation’s only temporary.

I sit in silence, release the stress
I carry—mountains of collective trauma

sparking my tired body’s drama.
And now into stress’s shoes I climb

and see, it’s what’s too much
that lingers, never felt just

branded on the skin, a red
raised welt. So many frightened

parts of us are banned, moving
with great longing to land, yet

pushed away. I sit. And say,
what’s culturally approved

what society gives sanction to
suddenly opens, the floodgates bursting

wide, the ones we’ve damned
and pushed aside reclaimed

right now.
Inclusion is the tao.

Inspired by: Revelation, Exchange, Eggplant (and thus baba ghanoush), Approve and a recent talk about being present to Climate Change between William Ury and Thomas Huebl.  You can watch it here.  There is a powerful 14-minute meditation starting at 37:40.

Soundcloud recording here.

An Enemy To All Mankind

All these grandiose schemes
of a nation proud of melting
ethnicities if only they can all
become white men or their
grateful servants. Those old guys
identify an American Dream–
just accept the belting
ignore the soul’s last call
to sit and shelve and swear
allegiance to the oil that buys
what they’ll call freedom.
These Orwellian shelling
innocents, the sanctions fall
on children rummaging on bare
earth, too far to hear their cries
the toppling regimes
tax dollars helping
surely then our prayer
the war-empire’s demise
is only fair?

Inspired by: Ethnicity, Nation, Grandiose, Identify, the horror of war by economic sanctions, Edwin Starr singing War (What Is It Good For?) and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt Last Call (Talk about the enterprise (sales or service) conducted by the last phone call you received from a business you’re not associated with (i.e. your workplace), or talk about that phone conversation itself.  Checked my call logs for the last two months.  Only received calls from friends and family.  I’ve got my blocking/spam ID in rare form!)

Soundcloud recording here.

Garden of the Gods

When I read the email interdict
something finally clicked.
Forbid me to meet and laugh
and tease, deny as frivolous
conviviality on which the soul feeds?
The pressure’s on to be
a callous cog
on the ruthless wheel
building the soulless world.
We’re trained we must not be
the being bursting
with creativity. No, we must
bow to the needs of survival–
pay the bill to stream
carefully crafted scenes
the only way our soul can feed.
Today I sing my own decree,
follow my intuitive nudges
dance with my grumbling grudges
and dreams about how it should
be–the shoulds that keep me
blind and deaf. The music’s
now! These groaning trees,
this patch of snow, the bit
of blue and white as the gray
grows to include a vastness
cursory glances ignore.
And I embrace poetry
and warm gazes, holding
hands and awkward hugs,
invitations unfolding
and when I can’t be with you,
I’ll be with me, glorious
wild woman spinning free.

Inspired by: Convivial, Frivolous, Pressure and Can’t. and this soul-food photo from an earlier time, a hike in Garden of the Gods, near Manitou Springs, Colorado.

Soundcloud recording here.

Someday I’ll Wish

When man up is extinct
and we escape the patriarchal
clinch, embrace instead
what’s rarely said in macho
bravos–lunatic fringe
simply a piece of our
extended tapestry–in short,
when we appear just as we
are, with deep respect
(the long neglect of hope
suspect when we must always
correct some fault that’s deep
within our ancestry) when
that day is here
I declare
the evolutionary leap
the shift is in the air
we breathe and suddenly
we see the edgy intricacy
of our imperfect beauty
simplicity when we
bowing, stunned, aware
there is no better you
the one that we receive
and care, unplumbed
perfection when we dare
admit the hidden pieces
the critic sighs,
looses and releases.

Inspired by: Rarely, Extinct, Hope, Clinch and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt Man Up, the last movie I saw.  Once again, the demand to create a stream of consciousness post stretched me beyond my comfort zone.  And I’m glad!

Soundcloud recording here.

Money For Old Rope

The path to crisis is boulder-
strewn difficult. One must
strenuously avoid the
temptation to do nothing–
that is, they say, when evil
triumphs. Beware any
chance to sit in silence
clear the inner murmuration
of starling-thoughts flying
intricate patterns of karmic
misperceptions. Try and try
again! Do! Move like a murder
of crows as the tempest
feeds on your panicked
activity. Onward, to the
breaking point! Trouble looms
and brewers, we foment
with such good intent, and yet,
our trajectile initiates from
hate, the very rules we seek
to dismantle. This is more than
we can handle.

We set down
the old-world tools
curious, unsighted
to receive what now
has newly lighted.

Inspired by: Triumph, Crisis, Nothing, Temptation and this photo taken in 1890 of my great-great grandfather visiting his son in Colorado.  Do we carry the old ways in our genes, or do they carry us on a wave of preconceptions?

Soundcloud recording here.

Grove Child

It’s important to keep drawing attention to the way we’re being manipulated out of having any control over not just what happens in our world, but over what we think about what happens in our world.~Caitlin Johnstone 

As a child, I knew one and one
is more than two. Objective science
impossibility, how can we
subtract ourselves from any
equation? Daffy ideas, and foolish
notions, separation presented as fact,
emotions denied, some caprice of robotic
will drummed into me, drumming me still.
As if an unsound tangent took the place
of integrated, syncopated pace
that I could see and feel and trace
in roots and branches, leaves
the grove in which I bathed perceives
me, dissected and inspected
enslaved by depraved systems
which I ought to imitate
for a good grade, abandoning
my precious glade. Urged to behave
while all around me science dug
its unearthly grave. A circling
pattern of thoughts inserted
and my young self perverted
until we arrive today.
That story no longer holds sway.
We see we are complete, as obvious
lies crumble at our rooted feet.
And here we compost this rich soil
with our collective intentions,
the cosmos glimpsed as we uncoil
poised for this evolutionary leap
waking from cultured hypnotic sleep.

Inspired by: Tangent, Daffy, Complete and  Caprice.

Soundcloud recording here.