I remember
Puddles
Skippin' along the curb, puddle ahead
Shallow or deep, maybe probe with a stick
After a torrential rain
Sticks leaves & assorted debris
Blocking the city storm-drain
From sending water to the nearby Mississippi like most Minneapolis
Effluent systems, why we were told
By our elders never to fish from
The riverbank below the cities!
The city never cleaned up the gutter
After Jimmy B's head was crushed under
His dad's rear truck tire
Walked past the red-splattered curb
For weeks on the way to school
Walked down the opposite side every day
Nobody talked about the accident
Jimmy & his elaborate basement
Train metropolis were neighborhood
Legends, even written about in
Local fish-wraps in the early 60's
Ponder on it now, some 60+
Years later
Have to go look if the house
Address iron-numbers, embedded
Half-way in the giant Elm on Jimmy's
Boulevard have remained disappeared
Don't know why I want to go look
They were swallowed by the tree
Last time I checked 30years ago
I guess time
Swallows
Everything
Letting go of the encasement of amber.
You are now free to explore physical things.
Letting go of the muddled emotions.
You are now free to explore clear precise feelings.
Letting go of the paradoxes of dualities.
You are now free to explore unified mental dimensions.
Letting go of the fear of dark dreams.
You are now free to explore in the light.
Letting go of the babblings of languages.
You are now free to explore rich deeper sounds.
Letting go of the tangled past relationships.
You are now free to explore clean open connections.
Letting go of the out of control causes.
You are now free to explore effluent effects.
No comfort for the stickler, sticking literary fixtures depicting conflicting inklings to their minds as perfect pictures.
With one stroke of my pen the standards rose again and damned be lesser men.
As the pros of prose impose and profess, chaos needs redress.
For I, who's distress you must address, now cower and cleanse this mess, confess my prowess only serves to impress all reason to, "stop the press".
Anachronistic the measure of their metric, imperialistic so the eccentric can spiral in tantric concentric circlejerks.
Central to themselves, it works.
The stench of sh!t, a rose by any other name, smeared with effluent smirks.
With all due respect you may cling to the historic.
If you wish to press/play, I will lay waste.
I'm not here to copy/paste.
The past won't be replaced, though clearly trampled and retraced.
Finding you're fittingly faced with chagrin laden grimace feeding bitter distaste.
Thou is to doth o'er and o'er, as men of the cloth in unrestrained glory.
Touting the gospel loudly and poorly, wholly unaware it's a fairytale story.
I vow to you our country, all earthly things below
to cleanse what we as humans have done to nature's show.
Our rivers are polluted, and air that creatures breathe.
Discarded waste and effluent now cloak both land and sea.
The climate's been disrupted, affecting food supplies,
and all of God's creation, is raising piteous cries
But there's another country, I've heard of long ago
a garden full of beauty, where nature's free to grow
with seas and skies of freshness, with land that's lush and clean.
We have what God now gives us, to bring back what has been.
So we should be resourceful and with a firm intent
restore our lovely country, to such as we have dreamt.
Tune: Thaxted
effluent stream
traveling over pebbles
one inch more each year
This in-between place
and time
and space
is *****.
Neither the straightforward seer
of new beginnings
nor the recalcitrant rear
of old sweet and sour endings.
Bicameral climates of transition
listen for our most humane imaged left
and see through our most divine beauty right
symbiosis,
complexly bilateral metaphor,
secular and sacred transubstantiation
substantiating disempowering empowerment of creolization,
of co-investments, elite and non-elite,
of left investors
co-arising right effluent divestment
away from competing capital-headed
Business As Usual
In-between lose/lose alpha-point of birth
and win/win omega warm felt beauty
harmonious destiny,
Sacredly holistic resonance
co-passioning left-hemisphere resilient liturgies
Of songs verbally and non-verbally danced
rhythms entranced
co-gravitating with and toward trans-regenerative stories
of competitively deep curious and ***** cooperations,
steeped in-between courageous analogical health
as meta-phonic wealth,
Ecologically robust polypaths
toward polyphonic metaphor.
You have
the plasticity of beauty
and the detail of enchantment
that touches who looks at you and sees...
Effluent Waves of Rare Perfumes
that sprinkles loving odors you cast ...
We feel convulsing apropos you
in sensations that sublimates glances ...
Everyone submits to yours
spells ...
You have the power to suspend stars
to adorn the sky of your passions.
You have a way of throwing dew on the flowers
to build the purest garden
of love...
You are a gift that is tender in us.
and in me that love you ...
Your absence still
contents me ... your presence
delights me !
Silent empathy,
whether majority or extremely lonely minority,
without active integrity
is unvoiced noticing
without informed feedback looping
understanding resilient communication
mentoring
Who we call each other to become
in courageous solidarity,
curious about our remaining future fertile non-uniformity
Catalyzing co-acclimating communions
of perpetual becoming
co-empathically active
and more polypathically informed.
Sung empathy,
especially if simultaneously danced
in harmonic rhythms
and causal-effective rhymes
with reason
fertile seasons,
if polypathic integrity
grows most resonantly polyphonic
effluent,
Multi-laterally rooted
in ZeroCommon
prime bilateral
polynomial affluent communion,
healthy-wealth abundance
of not monoculturing disinformation.
I speak my hidden angry GodVoice
and my sad suffering supplicant Goddess
listening choice
And these feel counter-balanced
within shared robust HappyGod
speaking through widely effective
boldly multiculturing voices
and/or deep learning health-conscious GreenGoddess
effluent flows
of nature's silent
non-violent
communion whispers,
Inviting soul songs for slow-dance circling
drumming
thrumming
strumming
plumbing rhythmic muses
Re-membering EarthTribe
con-celebrating HereNow
questing Paradise resilience
with past and future
more tolerantly listening
in-between regenerating
transpersonal progenitors
In Earth's sanctuary
not here for exclusively right answers;
Here to learn
to ask inclusively deeper and wider,
healthier and wealthier questions
together.
His covenant speaks through cooperative contracts
within a universally tolerant midway
sacred transcendent space;
Her sacrament hears uniting cooperative invitations
into ego/ecojustice sanctuary
of divine
and for humane
bilateral balance,
becoming holy healed.
I speak in LeftBrain dominant
because all speech is Left/Right indivisibly prominent.
But, at my LeftMind best
at least I speak against colonizing oppression
repression of creolizing co-acclimation,
suppression of RightBody emotive intelligence
for health and nutrition EarthTribe loyalty,
wildly enthusiastic radical feminist fealty
enthymeming ancient eco-speakers
silently acting out with trees
in full moon clenching dreams.
I sing in RightBrain effluent
because all non-verbal muses
and myths
emotive mists are RightBodied
non-dominating communication affluent
With respect for bilaterally graced
EarthTribal nature/spirit-laws
nurturing health and nutrition compassion
cooperatively-held by non-violent revolutionary ecofeminists,
Matriarchally silent singing
within MotherTree reverse-hierarchical nurture memories
root systemically experiencing renewing moon motions
disinclining night-mare
dark muse of re-memories rebirthing
curiously courageous pro-active hope.
We have, I hear,
between each in-out breath,
only our integrity of potential wealth
for empowering health.
And so I feel compelled to ask,
What would it take
to draw us away
from our entertaining tools
and fascination with weapons?
To, instead, fall in love again,
with Gaian co-empowering outside healing places?
How will we deeply learn
HolySpirit
anima mundi romancing holonic living Nature,
health-wealthy relatedness,
ego individuation from eco-habitat
integrity and diversity
of our own sacred loving-kindness Nature?
Without an outdoor
universal-unitarian
affluent-effluent love affair,
a sultry night time flirtation
with moonlight
and stars bright.
What will you regret
as you lie dying
in a hospital room
drugged
and hooked up to communicating machines
more than communally interdependent organisms?
Perhaps having lost a bed of leaves
under long-loved oak trees,
raising your arms or branches,
as you are still able,
to kiss such ancient full moon light
still singing with our distant past and future
renewing moon starred-bright.
hey buddy, I have to tell you,
you stink just like rat pooh!
raw effluent smells so much better!
I wear a gas mask so I can breathe around you,
to say your dirty would be complementary,
I hear you work in a mortuary,
ain't that where all the dead heads hang out?
you, your head, you nutter!
get back to where you belong, back in de gutter!
did I use to call you bro?
a mistake, now I know!
I need fresh air gotta go!
before I do I bought you a bar of soap,
no, not to eat man, you on dope?
a word you do not know, 'wash'
now, now don't get violent put away that cosh!
go have a bath, with the soap use wire wool,
might stop you looking dull.
if you struggle, go get your brother,
no, not me, I'm no your bro,
a few lines back, I told you so.
right now I have to git,
when I get back I'll probably find that you have shrunk.
that's if you managed to shift ten years of gunk!
In case you do, I'll bring a shovel, cos ain't that wot you do best?
shovelling pooh, ten years of mess,
and the rest!
catch yuh later,
got to go going to meet your sister!
05/17/18
8 Mile Style Poetry Contest sponsored by Nick Trim
U F O is a W d o p u y t r e s a d f g h k l k m n b v c xz q?
Feeling ill cam be understood to be akin to laying down upside down on a constantly rotating piece of grass that moves so rapidly that ground cannot really fathom a place to stand still. But stillness is not stagnation nor is it syllables stalling for stillness is often likened to a giant hexagonal bee swarm rotating royally signalling to jester fish that the top of a yogurt reads the same as the top line of a paragraph but minus the full stop. Equations equipped equatorial effluent efflorescent elephant. And a stripey square ball rolled away in a hexagonal formation before jumping into the swimming pool. Bowl then. But only wearing a bowler hat. Great. Now that is done the items can be imagined to be interested in inkwells'. Fantastical news for ten z frames, a beeswax curdle, a shrinkable curry, a curriculum carriage, and a force ten thousand gale singing a pleasant hymn. Loudly. While practising gymnastics with a fork lift truck and a lorry in a leotard. Z organizationally Z at forty one knots knitting ro eighteen balls of wool lugging loaded leaf loaves. X
water runs full free and fast
flowing down cliffs
through meadow and marsh
carrying effluent on its back
time rules the hour
wheels turn winds blow
over fields of grain
swaying like waves
rolling with the tide
and her flaxen hair streamed
like silk ribbons flowing
golden and fair as she rode
in the balmy summer air
she rode across meadows
stretched long and wide
like a dark messenger
on a mission to hell
she paused beside a soft sandy mound
that breathed a sigh
and a message ushered forth
from deep within its depths
only she understood
then turned mounted her ride
and rode into the wind with abandon
her flaxen hair streaming
like fine silk ribbons trailing behind
she never looked back
at what was left behind
she rode and her flamen hair
flowed full and free
on the soft balmy breeze
riding by her side
Nightmare's foul bouquet,
Effluent of restless slumber,
Ochre smog, mind bog,
Cleansing chill breath from newborn day
Entry to "quadro" contest
12th January 2017
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