Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |
We don't have a lot of time,
or, well, I guess you do,
but I don't,
so let's plunge right into the first big question:
Which came first, form or function?
False dichotomy. No such thing as a totally dysfunctional form,
and no such thing as changing function without some form
distinguished against a static background, or understory.
OK, that was quick!
it just seems that way to you.
what about space and time,
which came first?
Space adds formed place
to time's potentiating and exforming bilateral linear function.
so linguistic paradox meets coincidental evolution as co-arising time travel,
So you say.
And, yang and yin?
Yang empowers Time's form
while Yin unfolds as yin-yin nondual co-implicating bipolarity,
all binomial time and co-gravity frequencies,
synergetic natural trend strings and cycles and tipping points,
mutually revolving gravity waves;
like not-not injunctions
and co-arising natural intelligence
as accessible as the nearest regenerating cell,
subconscious non-languaged awareness
of integrating communication as cooperative community,
emerging from an enthymematic holding place
of polycultural multisystemic Black Hole dual-dark love,
mutual subsidiary solidarity
and coredemptive navigation from past stimuli,
pulling, inviting, seducing, branching
toward future's ecojust karmic response,
ecological reconnections from past to future in each present moment,
re-genesis of The Tree of Co-Arising Death and Life,
fear of too-brief time's revelation, revolution,
between death and life and rebirth
yielding both further death and purgation
and further freedom and facility and harmonic diversity
of both species and uniquely ego-centering song;
until we sometimes overheat our climatic landscapes
with less than fully optimized cooperative function.
Was that good for you?
I don't know how many nested climaxes you intended to create there,
what about dark and light,
black and white,
dispossession and possession of transparency?
Black is white light's full octaved closed-set form
as light is emergent black's informating octave-ergodic dark-dense function.
So is that like a color wheel observation
or some kind of cosmologically universal statement?
The ultra-violet spectrum completes time's full octave frequencies,
your human natured atomic picture frame,
the outline of a tree
including the tree's equivalent subterranean understory,
and undervalued root system.
Undervalued by egocentric left-brain dominant culture,
not by right-left bicameral balancers
and health/wealth harmonizers
all the way back to shamans noticing naturally seasoned
cycling systems of birth and decomposition
and then new birth again.
You did it again,
when you sound like you're channeling Bucky Fuller
and you start talking about one thing
and then pulling words about some other irrelevant thing,
turning analogical coincidence
into ecological correlates.
I suppose that's how language evolved
to iconically place-hold neural memory patterns
of synaptic crisis and aptically benign eco-norms,
structured as DNA fractals,
cycling octave holonic frequency functions.
I'll take a pass on even pretending
connections between DNA's structure
and revolving articulation of syntax.
How about the chicken and egg?
Which came first?
What's the difference?
I don't know.
It's one of those questions philosophers like to ask.
I mean, what's the difference between a chicken
and its egg?
Well, one has feathers and wings
and sometimes lays an egg
and the other is sort of oval
and smooth hard-shelled,
and gooey inside.
This chicken you are asking about,
did it lay the egg
you are asking about,
did this chicken emerge from the egg
you are asking about?
Or, maybe both,
at different stages of chicken with egg development?
then I guess they too evolved coincidentally.
If I may comment off record here,
you keep asking questions about evolutionary production
and consumption cycles,
as if progenitive decomposition,
through self-renewing stages of paradox
were not the reverse face of regeneration,
as if we could have mature plants
during summer's contenting heat
without cold hibernation
of winter's dissonant contentiousness,
or any concept of optimized cooperative living
without something we fear as death,
loss of corporate-structured life.
I told you I would only do this interview
if you promised to not critique
our stupid questions.
There is no such thing,
but some are much more perennially
and permaculturally productive than others.
If you say so.
What would be the most insightful question I could ask you
and please go ahead and answer it too.
Save me some trouble.
Why is the duration of your DNA's life potential
measured only with egocentric
"Closed Set Universe" rooted quantitative values?
Because "Open System" inductive/consumptive life-form balance
is only perpetually (not conclusively) defined
by eco-ionic production of (0) sum binomial root systems,
double-crossing Eulerian prime relationship spacetime function.
The beginning and end of your DNA string
appear terminal rather than transitional
if you identify your self as ego,
rather than as your co-operative portion of eco-regenerative consciousness.
OK, well, thank you for that,
How do you feel about the ground covered so far?
Anything else I should ask?
I wish you would give higher priority
to ecological and feminist justice platforms.
What's the difference
between a feminist agenda
and an ecological platform?
very excellent question.
Which came first
is like asking which is the producer
and which is the later consumer,
when these functions emerge coincidentally
throughout a life,
Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |
Imagine we live in an eco-normative story
of competing for wealth-commodities,
cash piled in quantifiable currencies,
collectively blinded to our Win-Win
biological health and well-being value roots.
One day, our Permacultural Received View
unveils a co-operatively synergetic evolution of positive health
and articulation of mutual subsidiarity--
natural laws of economic and political
and psychological and biological
health and survival through thrival
with Ecological Wealth objectives
defining spiritual principles, procedures, ethics
laws of co-operative solidarity,
co-passionate peace with ecojustice for all,
mutually subsidiary freedoms to live full healthy lives
balanced with freedom from dying deadly unhealthy deaths.
Oh, yes! this feels familiar somehow.
This appositionally poignant permaculture spectrum
originates with the emptiness of winter's purgation,
to evolve bio-systemically toward,
to incarnate as to inform,
to revolve full cycle to incorporate the opposite end of life's spectrum,
not mere half-assed egocentric and anthrocentric competitive life,
but fully sustainable health and well-being wealth
from now through our grandchildren's grandchildren,
and all their several cousins of diversely rainbowed
and sensually intelligent
forms with functional memory eco-logical species,
bio-logic information processor systems,
bicamerally fully conscious.
We reverse our Left-brain dominant economic overshoot!
As our cognitive disconnection from our own permacultural story evaporates,
this confusion about measuring wealth with money
rather than with sustainable,
about-faces toward inclusively co-operative survival
of the most synergetically interdependent systems,
positive deviant psychologizing
new economizing healthy wealth,
rather than BusinessAsUsual industry,
pursuing toxic short-term Win-Lose evolutionary designs
and plans for overshoot development;
collective worship of Left-brain dominant Ego-theism
rather than continuing our pilgrimage
toward Left-Right bicameral mutual governing equivalence values
following a nutritional thrival trail
back to our Original Big Bang ProGenitor,
TransParent Pre-Temporal Timing
of our Elder Right lens back through nutritional enculturing transparently binomial, time's core spinal fold,
erupting solid massively dense formation
out informing polyculturing functions,
fractal seasonal revolving rhythms
of radiantly Bi(0)-versive Exodus
of Love's enlightening Time.
When we choose healthy co-operative survival optimization
by starving competition to accumulate wealth deposits,
we will address stealth impoverishment,
now feverishly hiding within un-consciousness of economically
and ecologically violating Golden Rules
that advocate health and sustainable hope for all Earth's Grandchildren;
the pan-ultimate measure of a culture's true wealth
is its mutually balanced positive and negative nutritional feedback loops,
seeking our Zero-Sum Co-Operatively Healthy Win-Win
Eco-Normic Game Plan.
Polynomial Power sustainably optimizes
where monomial center trends toward Universal Co-Passion,
healthy fulsome flows and frequently reiterated functional patterns
of HereNow TransParent Bicameral Consciousness,
Ego as SoleSubject
greets and mutually bows toward
Eco-Logical WeSelf-as-SuperEco's Objective,
Bi-Nomially Permaculturally Balancing Time's 3-dimensional bodymind Space,
Pace of unfolding
Beloved Community Memory and ReDevelopment.
like messianic shamans of all times and cultures,
steward natural systems with a mutual-mentoring premise.
Our Host Environment, EcoSystem,
is both our Subject in the present moment
and our Objective reconnecting toward a shared cooperative future,
inclusive of all endogenous natural systems, species,
air and water flows,
sun and shadow glows.
This SuperEco ProGenitor
Hosts and Teaches
through Elder Memory synchronicity.
First, permaculturing prophets and alchemists listen
requiring the purgation of Ego-
confluent with all SpaceTime balance and harmonies,
flows with positive and negative functions, ionic frequencies,
cognitive dissonance too often hiding
psychological dynamics striving for comprehensively balanced
Eco-Zero-Centrism and Balance,
as EcoLogical BioJustice Economics and CoOperative Governance.
Bicamerally Left-Right confluent con-science
brings sustainable healthy wealth of RNA-rooted memory systems.
Bicameral Binomial-Consciousness emerges
as human nature's cooperative stewardship
our co-mentoring vocation,
Commons-space syntax shared with equal rights
by all Earth's Natural Systems.
EgoCentrism is eisegetically held as good and normal and appropriate
only as long as AnthroCentrism remains Left-brain Dominant,
continues economically incarnating through Win-Lose competitive assumptions
rather than choosing permacultural models
for EctoSymbiotic Polycultural Revolution.
A Boddhisatva-Ego lives in cooperative service with SuperEco,
Universally Thermodynamic Balanced (0)-Centric,
bio- and eco-logical,
caretaker and metric "PlaceHolder" Polyculturist
within Earth's RNA-syntax Tribes,
encultured fractal (0)-sum economically cooperative souls,
blossom Beloved Economic Community
in full "Climax",
incarnating integrative positive trending economic development,
as transmillennial revolution
away from pursuing wealth,
toward co-operative health
as our ecological paradigm
and economically sustainable re-exodus toward wealth optimization
with equivalent freedom for all,
and Beloved co-passionate peace.
Time gardens out.
Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |
Multisystemic feminist ecotherapists,
deeply immersed in permacultural eco-logic,
a systematic teleology of cooperative economics,
remain rarely flushed out from their camouflage.
with shamanic nature-as-spirit tendencies,
our most articulate mentors often wander off
to pray for,
breathe and suffer and dance and sing
with Earth and all Her polyculturing species and seasons,
spaces and times,
avoiding glaring spotlights of media networks
and shallow soundbites.
perhaps I can share lessons from my children
about internal and external landscapes of justice
passion for justice.
Spencer is my cooperative networking
At 18, he remains with me,
has not yet wandered off into his camouflage,
in part because I am a slow learner
in comparison to his lightning networked intuitive consciousness.
I am a more thorough and systematic teleologist,
but also ponderously detailed,
like Thomas Aquinas and Buckminster Fuller,
unwilling to leave any paradigm untouched,
producing a cooperative ecosystemic thesis
and antithesis of cognitive dissonance,
that remains undecipherable
except to those few who already speak
absorb polypathic nutritional polycultures.
What does justice look like for my 20 year old African American son
who graduated from special support services at Entitled Upper Middle Class High School
with a fourth grade cognitive and affective functionality,
no marketable skills other than his physical strength
which shows decreasing likelihood of endurance
due in part to horrid nutrition
lack of self-care
his preference to self-medicate
away from his internal dissonance.
He prefers THC,
although he is angrily aware this means state and federal employment protection laws
form a moat around his buzz,
with all opportunities on the outside
and far too many long-term risks on the inside of his bleary silo of despair.
My loyal handsome young adult son,
in comparison to outcomes for self-medicating with alcohol.
It's a cultural thing that old people do to his Transmillennial Generation,
like declaring wars so they can learn to fight each other,
while elders suck our fat wealth deposits into
sport cars of shifty ludicrosity.
His skills do not include multiplication,
much less division,
but he knows when justice divides his population of young adults
looking for their first jobs,
so they don't have to live under tyrannical oppressors
Self-medicating with alcohol can easily pass a drug screen test
with one day notice from Human Resources,
while my son watches from the other side
of this divide.
Can he get through at least eight weeks without medication
that does seem to help him feel and think better
of and with himself,
given any doubt that any of this makes any sense,
how long before he stops bothering to apply for any hope of a full life?
Eldest son understands the justice and injustice of attending a horribly designed State contracted job training program,
to sit for eight unpaid training hours,
for at least four weeks,
probably six or even more,
in a summer classroom with no windows,
with 29 other ADD and ADHD medicated trainees,
to face the dismissive derision of their trainer
for being who they are,
losers who will never actually be sent through to the paid employment stage of this card-shark process,
violating perhaps every justice principle intended by the Americans with Disabilities Act,
while the trainer draws his pay at my tax dollar expense.
My son was not outraged that the State had no record of contractual oversight,
no evidence that anyone who did eventually get paid could not have done so with one week's unpaid training,
no evidence that there were no other training contractors with the capacity to avoid violating the civil rights
of those supposedly receiving a service with positive outcomes,
rather than rejection and dispossession and dismissal and further hopelessness outcomes.
He was not alarmed that the Commissioner,
his own State Senator,
his US Senator,
did not seem to raise so much as one eyebrow
to a misuse of public dollars and trust
with outcomes that could not even perform at the thinnest level of justice:
If you cannot do any good,
at least be sure you cause no harm.
He has become used
within an economic and cultural ecology
that does not include him,
and others who look and act and perform and breathe and beat their hearts,
and try to balance their bicameral hemispheres as best they can
in a "Business-As-Usual-Means-You-Do-Not Matter" environment.
So, he reminds me of what I recognized long ago,
growing up gay male in a homophobic
I am reminded of what it means to have no economic right to employment
and no ecologically supported right to love,
to be valueless human nature
negatively deviant from all that is universally orthodox goodness,
that justice could not include any honest relationship within a Beloved Community,
could not include acceptance as a healthy soul
as the appropriate offspring of socially acceptable justice.
My son's bottom line,
"If they wanted to abuse us,
then I wouldn't have minded so much
if they were at least going to pay me.
I'll be The Man's whore if I have to,
but I won't be his bitch."
Long poem by
Terry O'Leary | Details |
Though still within our infancy,
we strive and thrive, but woefully
we flash and flaunt our 'primacy',
display our trophies pridefully.
Our terra firma ecstasy
destroys the planet's harmony,
lays waste to life beneath the sea,
and all in name of vanity.
Who dares our spheroid's symmetry
by doubting Nature's regnancy
defying laws, like gravity,
affirms a fatal fallacy…
for, centered on the 'world of we',
we feed our vain insanity
on thoughts beyond eternity -
seems strange when looked at cosmically.
Perchance there is no remedy
for those in shadow's prophecy -
unless we handle skillfully,
as clay we'll pay the penalty.
The Moguls rule with cruel decree,
control the crowds like puppetry,
pursuing greed addictively
with no accountability.
The winds, they reek of Royalty
(that's bathed in suds of treachery)
and blow across the peasantry
left gasping in their pungency.
The Queen, so steeped in snobbery,
sits, preening proud Her pedigree,
on throne of ash and ebony
while sipping Sekt immodestly;
to sate Her Regal Majesty,
a caviar clad canapé
is served with golden cutlery
by maidens bent submissively.
The King is bailed from bankruptcy
by Knaves who hoodwink artfully
the down-and-outer evictee
(he wallows in their lenity).
Forsooth, the Money Monarchy
ordains the dollar dynasty
portending highway robbery
by Peacocks plumed in finery,
for Jesters and the Fools agree
to dabble in duplicity
while stripping masses witlessly.
Long live the peon's penury!
To justify the oddity
that one plus one is sometimes three,
one reaches to theodicy,
takes paths of circularity.
In bygone trials of travesty
the doubters, draped in blasphemy,
endured the pain and agony
inflicted by the papacy.
Inspired by the Trinity
fanatics bent cosmology
in geocentric fantasy
while Bruno burned for heresy;
and aged women fruitlessly
(while racked and wrenched) begged clemency
from justice framed in infamy,
were set ablaze for witchery.
That epoch of credulity
(when savants fostered sorcery
and practiced ancient alchemy)
arose in dark age quackery
as clerics dripping piety
(while raging, raving rabidly)
pervaded thralled society
with callous inhumanity;
'repent', they bellowed, 'verily,
forsake the world's iniquity,
live lives of want and chastity,
and give your gelt to God through me'
The Masters make a mockery
of freedom and democracy
by holding down the uppity,
released from bonds of slavery,
now fettered in a factory
else strewn across the Bowery,
still chained in bonds of bigotry,
immersed in seas of poverty.
And colliers, tapping balefully
in sunken-mine solemnity,
yet thrum a mournful monody
some call the digger's elegy.
To children, pale and raggedy
(behind a day of drudgery),
the boss man, oh so gallantly,
presents a penny, niggardly;
though some are fed (belatedly),
their eyes recede in apathy
while bellies swell, inflatedly,
with mothers watching, wretchedly.
When met with health adversity
or broken bone infirmity,
the pauper dangles helplessly
with no insurance policy;
and those engulfed in lunacy
are ailing blobs left floating free
through psycho-dream obscurity -
a dire death row odyssey.
Forgetting mankind's unity,
our rich and poor dichotomy
breeds empty domed finality,
Just as in days of chivalry,
wild warriors fighting forcefully
bring freedom neath the gallows tree
while blending blood and burgundy
to toast the slaughtered enemy,
or else convince the colony
to cede with smile on bended knee
and yield her diamonds, silk and tea.
At first they call the cavalry
and then again the infantry,
so proudly primped in panoply,
and armed from finest armory
(embraced in hands so tenderly),
inflict benign atrocity -
but soon atomic weaponry
will cancel our posterity.
Misusing high technology
(to feed the face of gluttony)
depletes our Rock of energy,
now slowly dying thermally.
Our gadgets breathing CFC
fuel ozone holes' immensity
while cloud bursts, raining acidly,
wilt woods in their entirety,
and rivers, tainted chemically,
refill our cups methodically
and drown our souls organically.
Adjusting genes mechanically
may well blot out the bumble bee
annulling fruits' fecundity,
but brings big bucks reliably.
We wager perpetuity
to revel momentarily
in shadow-like obscurity
ignoring the futility,
but if we bet unknowingly
on fickle fate's contingency
and thereby act haphazardly
we're doomed to lose the lottery.
The mildly mad bureaucracy
so often lacks coherency
when raping rules abundantly
but offers no apology.
They paint the past in reverie
when, slyly comes the tendency
to take away our privacy
which paves the way to tyranny.
With earlobes lurking furtively
that listen surreptitiously,
and eyeballs peering doggedly,
we've lost our mental sovereignty,
and those who dare to disagree
must hide away in secrecy
else perch in penitentiary
with water board anxiety.
Yes, sans responsibility,
our marble in this galaxy
will crumble in catastrophe
ere ever reaching puberty…
Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |
My TransITion began there
in my woodland playground,
when I first knew
something right feels wrong to others.
I was blind to curve-balls
hurled at me.
Being "It" is not why I grow
this TransIt mind and body!
Or, is it?
Could I become TransIt
if we ubiquitously cooperated
sharing coincident TransIts?
TransIt and Ego
play best alone
He slows down
to notice ocean surf
waving back and forth,
SurfEco ocean sighing "Hi" then "Low"
Upward thrusting in,
then pulling back to receive shore's insertion,
sweeping in and sucking out;
Why are TransIt-Genes so shy?
Or, are we hiding herhim camouflage?
We're not sure, confident,
some of both, ambivalent
but bi-androgynous "Him,"
Yang leaning Yin,
fears no one else will notice
that surf reverses out before rolling in.
If not Bicameral She Womb,
then no incoming children of God,
one way, one gender, one race,
with the other,
TransIts know bi-naturally cooperative laws
of primal order,
prehensile full bodied and souled grasp
of organic life's humorous ambiguity
of Yang with Yin within,
as to come,
as to belong,
as to become EarthTribe together.
It's so restraining to not love
bare expose cooperatively unbalancing HermAfro-ergodic It.
S/he is soooooo much fun!
laughs with everyone,
always both Self and Other
com-prehensively ubiquitous mirth and EchoJoy,
optimal enough to return
breathe out Earth's abundant favor.
TransIt's polypathic polyculturing
binomial bionically binary buddha brain
saturates flowering rain,
positive with negative nutrient flow patterns,
dissects words to help
disharmonic unbalanced double-bound,
overwound loops of lazy logos.
Through permaculturing tipping-trimming needles
decompositional exegesis of meaningful rich language,
TransIt loves to ultimately find
unerringly eisegetical and exigeneral,
generically radical revolutionary Commons,
post-millennial Fullerian Taoism.
TransIts choose holding hands Red Rover
SockHer left-brained domination;
TransIt plays teacher with His baby sisters,
but also learner,
rather than driving too-techish trucks and trains,
not organic enough for our TransBionic steady diet;
TransIts think compulsively about this problem of evil
as primal resolution for Live Composting Fertilizer's
full-sponsored PolyReality Show.
While watching Leave It to Beaver,
where Father Knows Best,
TransIt wonders why Mrs. Beaver always got the wisest lines
but never the headline.
TransIt feels older and wiser then "Him"
but they are born twins
Yang over Yin
or so BionicIt seems to transmorphosize
as TransIt mysteriously explores incarnational cycles
as nature's four prime Seasons,
unveiling double-funneled raincloud whirlwinds
winding wending wu-wei Way,
revolving tips of tree hierarchies
balancing polynomial (0) Core
binomial primal Universe,
etching dipolar whorlwinds in our Memory Sea
of shared RNA-structuring identity.
TransIts abhor stability,
love spinning our revolutions of joy,
adore regenerating poly-solidarity.
TransMillennial Tao is a hollowful Zero-Core Vortex vessel,
and TransIts functions are infinitely inexhaustible!
like the Black Hole Fountain Head of all things.
TransIts sharp boundary edges resonantly resolving rounding off
prime torus tangles crossed untied,
TransIt light tempered balancing enlightenment,
its turmoil equivalently sub-merging and resyn-ergodizing;
yet absent darkness, like deep ecological water,
It seems to remain,
sustain econormic Commons.
I do not know whose Sun TransIt is,
if not an image of what existed before and within
Black Hole's regenerating Progenerator
mutually gravitational fusion
as Beloved Diastasis.
TransIts most therapeutic response to arrogance,
fear and anger,
both with Beloved Self and TransIt Other,
rather than justice evolving as One
without the Other.
Our most therapeutic reconnections
to what is lost,
are tears of anger and grief and relief and joy.
communication within self-con-sciencing community,
carries and buries TransIts most appropriate therapy
of seasonal development
from argue through blissful enlightenment.
like their bodies,
heal in our own ecological reincarnational spacetime
of opportunity and risk
for integrating our Self+Other
only AND every co-incidentally balanced,
this HereNow Moment's integrative,
of consonant harmonics;
of polyculturing TransIt ReGenerational diversity.
Long poem by
Robert Ronnow | Details |
I am feeling the shock of fast change. How to cope with it is of course the question. Listen to Beethoven through the neighbor's window? Look up from the page? Appreciate doves even though they are so numerous? I seem to have limitless choices although this cannot be true. Could I have become a computer specialist? Sure! How to remain still in the ever-maddening mandala. To remain still on the outer edge of the wheel is to ride laughingly and pluck at the gold key. I force myself down into the craw of the black vortex New York until I feel the strong oscillations gather rhythm and expel me or accept me.
What do I find within the black electric walls of this unique vortex? I find there is more space between people than I'd ever dared to hope. That my efforts are unnecessary and hopeless. I cancel my subscriptions and stop eating. I embrace wild roots and run through streets with arm around my girl.
* * *
What is important.
I part my lips in the middle
eat corn chips, dipsy doodles
make love, eat grapes.
In their mere chronology
events have no relation. How was making love
different from eating grapes. Differentiation
is essential to bring order from chaos. The chaos
is the accelerated change created by our own species
whose consummations have a quantum effect
on the environment.
But the chaos
existed long before, and long after us
in both more serene and violent forms.
Again a duality, but here's why.
each duality may then be said to be in a dual
relationship with another duality, forming
These cubes are difficult to join
with other cubes, unless first they are
We were traveling among
these cubes, maneuvering
through a static array of equidistant points
but finding it impossible to avoid striking them.
So why the difficulty adapting. Because no species
before us had to adapt to its own effects upon
environment? No, every species must
but our adaptations (of the world) are so successful
(such fabrications!) One green, one brown
Two dead leaves
Then a breeze!
* * *
Loveliness and loneliness
they sleep apart/together
sometimes not always
using sheets of white nothing madly
connecting, splicing, parturition
continuing to birth life and ideals
like ants or any other species.
Tree, each poem, begins
and ends and giving up
to life's forms
surrendering to greater force, power, strength
whatever it is called, the clog of heels
upstairs to the door, turning of
the key, the taking out of the
garbage down below, car
starting, placed in
anyway, for myself, personally, speaking only
for myself, because although the Parks
Department rakes the leaves as it
did last autumn, to keep them
from clogging the sewer system,
I am in a heightened
state of vibration
like a long steel pipe banged hard against an
iron beam. The hard hat feels it in
his hand (on the gears) but
great buildings are built that
nature destroys in time
with a little wind
air, you glide down through the limpid air
toward the ninety-seven story abandoned structure
remnant of an earlier civilization
abandoned but not yet entirely
swept away in slow waves
Long poem by
Robert Ronnow | Details |
You can feel it spinning
the Chinese, Japanese, American and European junk
orbiting at several thousand miles per hour could
a hole in your armor, future. Thanksgiving passes, then Christmas.
A nuclear detonation, we absorb that fact. The scientist in us
delays sadness by recording observations. What is is,
sorrow's for tomorrow.
By reducing probabilities to near zero I hope to avoid sorrow.
In yr suburb.
In history when there were many fewer people we still found reason
to cross space, explore, trade and war. Now
may not be the problem but food and water shortages
get our attention.
I have Korf's fears.
And hear what I want to hear.
Some hear singing, some hear speeches or complaining.
Martin Luther King sang his complaints, dreamed of a brotherly nation
which came to pass, spinning fast, past Thanksgivings, past jailings
into reconnaissance, small wars, drones, renaissance, inventions.
At the border,
where the Juaristas fought Maximilian:
Benito Juarez (1806-1872) Zapotec Amerindian who served five terms as president of Mexico. He was the first Mexican leader who did not have a military background and also the first full-blooded indigenous person to lead a country in the western hemisphere in over 300 years. For resisting French occupation, overthrowing the Empire, and restoring the Republic, Juarez is regarded as Mexico's greatest and most beloved leader.
Each soldier chooses what war at what border, or just
spinning with the planet.
The neighborhood and surrounding nature is orderly.
But always there is implied force, violence holding it together,
kept out of the playground, government buildings, children's games
but lies within
the force maintaining order, a spinning tumor, a gyroscope of
The force of the spinning, the speed of the force bring one to one's
seasons, weather, earth.
While the emperor's being beheaded
enduring seeds are discovered and invented, cross-fertilized and bred.
Corn, yams, potatoes, sunflowers, rice.
Food is life and a good study,
The fighting man protects the farmer
and the farmer feeds the fighting man.
They elect the governor
who serves the people. Peace out.
Peace and war are transitory manifestations of spinning
The sun's a nuclear detonation, essential
to spring and planting. Food is life. Seeds endure
if man goes to his daily discipline. If woman is man.
Birth and death
together are orderly, the border can be known,
voluntarily. How we live together, by prayer or force,
is our story.
from laboratory to starry corridor keeps us very
Did Juaristas consider the rights of animals not to be eaten?
Not during that spinning.
And perform the history that surrounds us.
All that can be done
is written in the spinning:
The people of the land, the Indian farmers of North America - like their counterparts in Mesoamerica, the Andean region, and the Amazon - have continuously cultivated maize, beans, squash and other crops for more than five thousand years. One of the salient features of their traditional farming systems is the high degree of biodiversity. These traditional farming systems have emerged over centuries of cultural and biological evolution, and they represent the accumulated experience of indigenous farmers interacting with the environment without access to external inputs, capital or scientific knowledge. In Latin America alone, more than 2.5 million hectares under traditional agriculture in the form of raised fields, polycultures, agroforestry systems and the like document indigenous farmers' successful adaptations to difficult environments.
Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |
Elder Darwin swims in ethology.
He rolls in his deep grave ecology.
He itches and scratches his dissonance
that survival of most fitted and dense
implies manifest destiny for those YangStrong
while Darwin's Cross and his own eyes
camouflaged ectosymbiotic thrival of deepest flexible fit-in-edness.
both within and between polycultured communities and creations,
ReGenitor's co-redemptive grace-gift
a pointy-poignant Tipping Midway Rudder,
Yang sustained as ecto-entity through YinYin Win-Win endo-duel tippity,
for Yang/Yin mutually comprehending fitness,
breathing through past anger with future-fear,
toward balancing love's active endo/ecto comprehensive consciousness.
If only our early-encultured CD of evolution,
had more faithfully looked up and out,
less endo-symbiotically withdrawn,
as Bucky the Fullerest did cooperatively shout,
prophet of future's positive spout
flowing Solar-Systemic re-fusion of energy
still photosynthesizing light's Commons co-op horizon.
With Sun as shamanic Progenitor of RNA, then DNA,
and Mother Earth as pre-genetive virginal womb,
egg white nutritionally composting egg yolk,
provoking primally cooperative metasystemic transactions,
natural contractions with requisite expansions
issuing diverse relay racing genes,
needing to win-win to eco-redeem this global EarthTribe Team.
This problem of evolution's Win-Lose Evil,
like Kuhn's problem of incommensurable co-arising of paradigms,
resolves as Manifest Dual/Duelling-Destiny,
dying breath through inductive rebirth,
Yang's natural economic strength can't sustain life
without Yin's double-RNA encoded bicameralogical ego-defiant Right brain
flexibly Jaynes balancing revolutions of temporary death to identity
co-mingling with Yang's deductive-reflective notice,
as EcoUs within.
The political economics of nature challenge just enough
to potentiate optimal cooperative Win-Win transactions
tipping-point midway interactions
ecotherapeutic as metasystemic relationships of stimulating Positive Yang
deducing responsive Double-Negative Yin's boundary death issues;
pinch-hits and hints toward primal peace
when revolutioning double-bind dissonance,
resolving double-bind dissonance,
personal, familial, and tribal,
discerning tipping points of optimally resonant double-negative
wu-wei decompositional discernment of sub-prime co-arising trends,
outlining our means to fusion's full-octave
balancing of loose unraveling ends and outcomes,
our Win-Win Intelligence
positive evolutionary Way.
To evolve all ectosymbiotic solar seasoned days,
we resolve our resonantly endosymbiotic solar/lunar cycling
story-telling strings of Double-Dark Holed night-too-bright.
Bucky's response to Darwin's Double-Dark Dilemma,
thriving cooperative win-win systems
of primal fitting-in-ness,
challenging each and all to do our best
to win together:
to optimize positive systemic natural revolutions
of principle and order,
design an optimal evolutionary environment;
to purge ourselves of insubordinate competitively gluttonous economics,
invest more in mutually subsidiary cooperative deep ecologic,
ringing greater resonance in octaved natural systemic circles,
not-quite-so-much Independence Daze of Nationalism over co-operating Earthism,
minimizing Lose-Lose marching in mutual-immunity squares
of autistically demented,
collectively encultured competition-craze.
Decompose within as without,
to regenerate without within,
before as after,
to reflect after as if before,
response as stimulus,
effect as cause of what came after,
object as subject of mutually intelligent interest,
objectives as subjects of mutually cooperative subsidiarity,
nondual co-arising intent,
dissonance as still-contentious potential confluence
to resolve content-full dia-resonance,
Yang as Yin-Yin
to Yin optimally inclusive Yanging sustaining ecto/endosymbiotic life.
Thank you Uncle Charlie,
you did good.
Now, please go rest in peaceful co-arising bliss.
Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |
nondual manifest destiny of health
as wealth of eco-consciousness,
like double-transparency of ecologic's Yang,
with eco-normic YinYin-square-rooted
c-squared = e-squared = Language-squared,
Positive OVER AND WITH double-negative
subjective/objective Time's decomposing binomials.
"Instead of giving our children
clear and explicit explanations
of the game-rules of the community,
we befuddle them hopelessly
because we--as adults--were once
so befuddled, and,
do not understand the [Win-Lose] game
we are playing."
"It is an attitude of [win-lose] scarcity,
not of [win-win] abundance,
that has led to the depletion of our natural commons.
Competition and the accumulation of more than one needs
are the natural response
to a perceived scarcity of resources.
The obscene overcomsumption and waste
of our society
arise from our poverty:
the deficit of being that afflicts
the discrete and separate self,
the scarcity of money
in an interest-based system,
the poverty of relationship
that comes from the severance
of our ties to community
and to nature,
the relentless pressure to do anything,
anything at all,
to make a living."
A double-bind game
is a game with self-contradictory
a game destined toward perpetual self transcen-dance--
like trying to invent
a perpetual-motion machine
in terms of Fullerian Synergetics.
The social double-bind game
can be phrased in several ways:
The first rule of this game
is it is not not a game.
Everyone must not not play.
You must not not love us.
You must go on not not polyculturally self-optimizing.
Be yourself, but play a deductively consistent
and inductively acceptable role.
Mentor your eco-self and be not unnatural.
Do not try to be not sincere.
Essentially, this game is a demand
for spontaneous behavior of certain "must"s.
being natural or sincere--
all these require a degree of balancing spontaneous forms
of co-operation, behavior:
they happen "of themselves"
like digesting food or growing hair.
As soon as they are not forced
they acquire that natural,
and "truth" atmosphere
which everyone explores--
strong and healthy
like mature vine ripened wine
Life and love generate effort,
but effort will not generate them.
in other people,
in Earth's abundance,
as in oneself--
is the attitude of allowing the spontaneous
to be spontaneous,
in its own way
and in its own time.
Faith is always a gamble
because life itself is a win-win gambling game
with what must appear,
in the losing aspect of our game,
to be colossal stakes.
But to take the gamble
out of the game,
to try to make winning a sustained certainty,
is to achieve a certainty
which is indeed co-arising/decomposing life.
From this bicameral win-win double-binding view
of Project ReGenesis
as balanced harmony-optimizing organic econsciousness,
imperative for death-through-life memory maintenance,
and identity fulfillment,
rather than lose-lose playing out
across an oppositional spectrum,
with appositional polarities of confluence
struggling with cognitive-deductive dissonance,
both ecologically and economically,
more primally than secondary spaciated Language,
enculturing an oppositional spectrum
as Good v. eviL
mirroring ReGenetic Tree RightSideDown Root Systems
of Health/Wealth Live reversing Die.
So, yes, Polynomial Positive Information
is Win-Win equi-valent with Not-Not Polynomial
as Reverse Temporal (0) Binary Dipolar Function.
Long poem by
Christine Phillips | Details |
Fall tumbles relentlessly on our door steps
young winter birds inducing provoking sounds scamper in trees
Watching winter crawling slowly under our feet.
The night rain wet the ground with sadness
washing away the environmental stench
purging the atmosphere of its infectious dew
And I could absorb fresh air in my lungs again.
I fell into a deep sleep shortly after nine but woke up
by my next door neighbor bustling activities.
Nice showers clean fresh air is the perfect night to
be drenched with sleep but instead I was on my knees.
An unknown burden overshadowed me, disturbing my spirit
raising my curiosity, causing me to ponder over unknown mysteries
unexplainable matters that doesn't concern me, yet they troubled me.
I soaked myself in prayer seeking for a plausible answer
And after praying I fell asleep again; a sleep that
I thought would be peaceful but here I am again
on an unannounced journey to the Far East.
I mysteriously found myself on a university campus in the Far East,
no paint, no color, everywhere was deserted, no one was around
except for dry leaves spreading out on the troubled ground
and dull trees astoundingly lingering in the autumn breeze.
I walked propitiously through the front door along a bare corridor
in search of a toilet to ease my body pressure.
A desolated corridor whose hope seemed to be diminished with the passing of time
a million feet must have trodden upon it, feet in search of freedom ,
feet looking for peace, proud feet, dirty feet, bloody feet, stubborn feet.
Feet looking for revenge and feet marching to the destiny of doom.
I moved anxiously from door to door but every door that I opened I saw
Asian toilet embedded deeply in the ground and clean water flooding all around.
I opened another door and found a western bath filled with clean water
I kept walking along the corridor but all the Asian toilets were flood with water.
At the end of the corridor I found one that was completely dry but there was no toilet inside except for PVC pipe fittings planted firmly in the ground.
I tread along the opposite side of the hallway still searching for a toilet
but only rooms whose doors were removed and leaning helplessly
in front of them occupy the other side of the stricken corridor.
I anxiously left the building and a slim young man in his early twenties
wearing shaded glasses ran behind a reception area outside the campus ground
and pretended as if he was at work, but that was only a deception.
As I walked passed him he tried to reached out to me
He complained about someone who has treated him badly
and pointed to a friend who was instrumental in turning his life around.
A sizable crowd gather around him as he illustrates his painful story.
He and his friend took me to the other side of the campus where
a larger crowd of young people had gathered for a wedding
some were sitting under large beach umbrellas
While others congregate in groups all over the campus grounds.
I walked upon a platform where the wedding ceremony
was about to take place but daylight suddenly exploded in my face.
©2014 Christine Phillips