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Long poem by Christine Phillips | Details

Honey Bee Flying Around In Winter

I have been reluctant to pen this verse 
Because I don't understand what it was all about
I have been reluctant to pen this verse
Because I don't want anyone to  get hurt
Morning comes and evening goes
And everyone is looking for an easy way to end the show
But the icing will not go on the half baked cake  
Unless the details are sound practical and clear
Year after year it has been the same
Using innocent lives for political gains
What happen to the humanity 
Your self-absorb and heartless plans have ruined your dignity
I have been reluctant to pen this verse
Because the message came from mother earth
They are scattered everywhere so you better beware
Yesterday I sat in streets watching the sun shining brightly from the East
spreading its beam all over the land exposing  perpetrators 
and harnessing the dictators
It burns through the  promiscuous  sky
waving its hands as it passes by 
sitting on top of  the tower waiting for that appointed hour
It searches out the evil hearts that is dividing and pulling everyone apart
It shines with dignity while listening to the dishonesty 
I sat in the rich man's parking lot waiting on I don't know what
I was waiting on something very important to end the ruthless confusion
I sat patiently on the concrete edge waiting
Not even Vladimir and Estragon had that patience 
Godot didn't show up in the rich man's parking lot
But Godot did appear in the form of a cat.
I kept staring at the  blatant sun penetrating the cold 
and spreading its furious flames around
I don't know why I went there 
everything was cold and bare
Business had come to a stand still and there was no life or energy within
But as I showed up at that place morning came alive
and passion starts  running high
I warmed my cold feet and listened tentatively to my heart beat
All of of a sudden the parking lot start filling up
Dirty cars that has not been washed since the beginning of winter
was parked all over
They all look like the usual cars strolling up and down the street
Blocking traffic  and crowding the neighborhood street
and harassing  peaceful foreigners walking along the street
Suddenly  businesses comes alive  and start selling pudding and pies
Even the Russian was out parading in  his military hat and gown
I wonder what this guy was thinking by adorning  himself in a Russian coat
The music shops were getting customers they have suffered all winter
America is a global pretense  
which is why she has lost most of her closest friends
She has people lined up for every occasion and for every difficult situation
Life and death resides on the tip of her tongue
this dissimulation  will not last long
I sat there patiently watching the  stubborn morning unfolding
Fake shoppers  filling up the parking lots
Spending money that they have not got
This seems to be a normal pattern 
When America is trying to make an impression
This is downright deception that has infiltrate the mother land
I sat on the concrete edge waiting; waiting  patiently for something 
Warming up my hands and feet and praying for the journey to complete
Suddenly a dirty jeep came speeding down the parking lot
and a white man emerged  from inside coughing and spitting on my side 
He knew that I was sitting there but he just did not care
But something in my Spirit cried out no! 
It's perhaps the best way to end the miserable show
He grabbed a little boy from the back of the jeep
and  head straight into the cafe
If he was in Singapore he would be fined for how much I don't know
for coughing and spitting at strangers in the street
I did not let it bother me at first I felt offended
But like everything else I allow  my Spirit to sucks it in
Everything seems to be coordinated; it was unnatural and fabricated
Who is behind the mascaraed it must have been someone in high authority
Everyone is familiar with this same old dirty game.
Everywhere you go the pattern is the same
There was one man  walking from store to store
wearing an orange shirt  and wielding a little child about
His rhythm was abnormal and he too was playing games
It  is a shame that they use children in these dangerous games
I kept my eyes on the sun while waiting on the gun
Suddenly a woman crossed my path wearing a fancy leopard coat
she crosses directly in front of me and went to another shop
I  sat there waiting, waiting on what I don't know
Then another woman  wearing a blue tea-shirt tucked inside her over coat
she greeted me with a smile as she passed by
She went her way and drove quietly away
I still sat their waiting,waiting on I don't know what
The woman in the leopard coat crossed my path a second time
causing me to raise an alarm
I wish I knew what it was all about
Who are these people flirting upon and down the town
Everywhere I go I see them on the bus on the trains
In the perking lots and around the bend
They even use mentally derange men and women
to antagonize and harass people in the street
What is it they are hoping to achieve?
Just as I thought about it
A honey bee came out of nowhere and land on my left shoulder
It crawled up and down my coat then flew to the ground
I looked for it but I could not find it
The message had arrive and land on me in plain sight
I went back to the my truck and a white man rushed out of a white car
Asking me a silly question if I saw who ran in the back of his car
Immediately I knew that he was one of the county harasser
I politely answered no and went in my truck
I came out of the truck and left the door open
and went back to where I was sitting
I stood there for a while then returned to the truck
There I found the bee buzzing around
I caught it in my cup and place a paper over it
But it burst out and flew  all around  my truck
I drove away with the  buzzing bee in the truck and returned to the house
When I open the door it flew away and disappeared in the air
Honey bee buzzing around in winter has
strong symbolic meaning in many cultures 
and can be traced to the Druid, Celtic, 
Greek and Roman culture
They say that honey bee  symbolizes money and  personal power
The power of the sun and the power of the Goddess
What ever it was its a good omen 
The bee brought a message of hope 
and perhaps that was the message I was waiting for
Honey bee flying around in Winter is somewhat peculiar

Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2018

Long poem by Crow thepoet | Details

Emo Love

With this needle and thread I stitch the wounds Avril left
but with this blade I angrily carve a new
rough, short, jagged adjacent from the bone in my wrist
for a reflection of our relationship
and an outlet for the anger unable to release
Then another upon my neck where she used to sweetly kiss
fresh and clean, letting the blood fall slowly and peacefully
as I fall to chaos on the inside
Blue is the warmest color
the words sting more than the knife I hesitantly hang
above the vein I'm so desperate to cut
How can something so warm become so bitter, so brutal
I search the mirror for answers just to see her face instead
piercing me, mocking me; a bonfire to laugh at a candle
as she disappears in an array of fragments
falling to sleep by the lullaby of the earthquake 
resounding from my fist
Cradling my hand, tossing away the pain
I collapse under the weight of my destruction
a king of night slain by the queen of day
as music, my magician, attempts to revive me
installing hope while simultaneously shrouding me in defeat
How can cupid so small shoot an arrow so mighty
I curse the sky, it's betraying hue
as I pray for night, praying for mercy
falling asleep in the arms of sorrow protecting me...
Where am I
I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white, an illusion
my world is pitch black and I can't open my eyes
As I begin to panic, shaking the bars upon my heart
for it to beat once again 
As I begin to panic
beating upon the neurons while screaming, 'STIMULATE! '
As I begin to panic, kicking the glass in my iris to bring forth color
a vibrant world in contrast to the island of grey 
I persist to escape
a calmness washes over me
a calm voice whispers so eloquently to me
'Hush thou art deceived
come, follow the sound of my voice; come to me'
Is this angel sent to guide me into a peaceful forever slumber
or is she a temptress so beautiful I die at first sight
She said I am deceived
deceived by what, by who; I must know
'Hush thou art deceived
come, follow the sound of my voice; come to me'
That milky, honey echo so familiar
so tantalizing, tangible; the feeling of invincibility to follow
'Hush thou art deceived
come, follow the sound of my voice; come to me'
That sound, that voice bouncing off the walls of my dreams
I burst through to find a coffee shop
teeming with no one but me 
Then, like a miracle of air, there the voice beholds a face
a captivating beauty so perfect
Her hair, a halo of pink lost in a maze of fields painted black
Her eyes, twins pools of green, the most amazing I've ever seen
that no words give release as I make my attempt to speak
My mouth gains dust as my jaws begin to rust shut
Then she smiles
her cheeks produce dimples, her nose slightly scrunching
yet it's still enough to make me melt
me, now a puddle within my shoes
She giggles and lifts me up
I without a fuss as she sweeps me up in a hug
With a voice to make Aphrodite jealous she whispers softly
'Hush thou art deceived, you are not in love with me
but I in love with you so here take my hand
I'll show you my world if I can to see if you understand'
Puzzled I take her hand but I still don't understand
my breath won't resurrect so I save the rest
as she pokes my chest
for her to hear me breathlessly ask her name
She takes a step back with a small little laugh
she grabs my hand as I realize where I stand
Stunned and amazed I turn to run
but the sight of a whale shakes me to the core
the same frequency as I shake her
With a playful smile, she bothered to ask
'You've made castles by the shore, no? 
I know that we are more so let's make castles on the floor'
With a gleeful jump, she began to work
as my panic turns to curiosity, shaking my head in disbelief
I join in, my mind in a tailspin
I have a whirlwind of questions but they blow over with the ocean tide
as she regails her tale of the other side
a world unfamiliar yet she gains my intrigue 
with stories I can't compete
Though silently I beg the question 
How am I deceived, this feels right to me
How can this be wrong with her bright smile bringing me back to life
She looks up at the wrong time, aware I'm elsewhere
runs and jumps into my arms
placing a phantom kiss upon my lips
a stone fortress under siege by vulnerability
With a phantom kiss I return to her realm
amidst her question hanging in the air, 'Is anything amiss? '
I reply with a smile and a shake of my head
asking for a simple change of scenery 
I have a request but it goes unheard
a mouse on Christmas night; though I shake with slight fright
as she gets my request just right
I sprawl out on the grass, the night sky spread out
a cluster of piercings mapping out my former source of glory
now the orchestrator of my misery
I wince with sudden grief, shedding tears of pain thought renounced
pausing only to find the object of my current affection
eyes brilliant pearls, mimicking the stars stoic beauty
perched upon my lap; staring at me intently, intensely
and without words asking who has wronged me so
With words I cannot bear to voice that name
so I pull her into my embrace
her gaze away from the image of me, clutching what ails me in my hand
till my knuckles turn white as snow then I let go
letting the memory fade so I know it's true
And with a sudden moment I look her square in the eyes
for love is all I have inside
as I ask her to sprout wings of butterflies with me
black as a panther mixed with red of passion for me
a costume of gold with a pink lining for her
for she's perfect beyond reason
I ask her to fly away with me to a galaxy outside the milky way
Sadness in her eyes, she denies
placing her finger upon my heart as she cries
reviving my stilled heartbeat...
Was it a dream or just my escape as my eyes flicker wide
welcoming a world I don't recognize
I try to sit up but I fall back
a heavy sigh to escape my thoughts, 'Where is she'
Like an owl, my head spins in a circle just to locate her presence
but like a ghost arises her voice in my conscious
'Hush thou art deceived for I lied
you are in love with me and I in love with you 
but we can only exist in your dreams'
I know I should've savored every moment
but what happens when every moment was an illusion
to everyone, everyone but you

Copyright © Crow thepoet | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Brendan J. Simons | Details

The Hotel Caretaker

How unparticular the day had particularly been,
On March the third of two-thousand and eighteen,
For the caretaker at an historic Adirondack Inn,
Had lacked company, and therefore, dopamine.

‘Twas Sunday when all the guests had fled,
From either boredom or towards it in vocation,
For two-day vacations left this specific town dead,
Sequestered by its icy and secluded location.  

The caretaker, Ben, took care to shut off the lights,
And prepare for yet another week alone,
In a five-story hotel without a soul in sight,
Besides those that his television has shone.

Until the weekend he should not socialize,
For patrons choose not to stay through the week,
Such solitude and silence are his solemn prize,
Broken only by muttered squeaks of sudden self-speak.

Ben no longer cared to believe in ghosts,
For if so he could not bare that which might lurk,
In each crack of a floorboard or knot in a bedpost,
That would scare him away from his work.

As he sauntered up the stairway towards his bunk in the employee barracks,
To yet another repeated night of binging beer and Bates Motel,
He heard a knock both frantic and oddly hysteric,
From the cellar-door of the vacant Hotel.

The knocks clicked in wicked groups of threes,
The gaps between their contractions shrunk,
Until they sounded to be in such desperate unease,
That they morphed together into a louder clunk.

“Hold on! Ben yelled from atop the stairs,
Of the cellar as he searched for a switch,
And the knocks were replaced by commands in pairs:
“Let me in! Let me in!” In a piercing pitch.

Finally Ben had found the light and door,
Then sunk beneath the kitchen into the concrete hollow,
And stumbled upon unused clutter across the floor,
To open the door with a heavy swallow.

An old woman poured in with a greeting hidden in a wheeze,
And like smoke, she puffed her way across the floor,
As if a bellow blew her in with a squeeze,
To replace the air she sucked right out the door.

“This used to be the entrance,” she grimaced,
With a frown so old it may have always been,
And as she glared at the confines of the premise,
She halted on the eyesight of Ben.

Beneath her cloak a crooked hand had curled into a secret fist,
Gripping with an arthritic shake: a locket wrapped around her wrist.

“Don’t just stare you simple twit,”
She snarled between her hissing dentures,
“Is there anyone here with half a wit,
Indentured to maneuver this business venture?

Or is it just you,” she gagged in sheer disgust,
That Ben was the only employee there,
For in her eyes Ben spied a lack of trust,
In him to offer hospitable customer care.

Ignoring the insults from this mysterious hag,
Ben ushered her up the staircase,
Carrying her single travel bag,
After she shoved it in his face.

He lead her towards the hotel desk,
And asked her for her name,
She paused and muttered “Grace Burlesque,”
As if he should have known it for its fame.

Ben saw there weren’t any bookings this week,
Nor was her ridiculous name found on the computer screen,
But, then, before he could begin to speak,
She announced “My usual room is 313.”

“I believe my key is in an envelope,
As it usually hangs on the door,
Forget the towels, shampoo and soap,
I’ve brought my own and need no more.”

“I can assure you there is no key up there,
I cleaned all the rooms this afternoon,
You must be thinking of a hotel elsewhere,”
He said to the slowly souring prune.

“I can assure you there is a key up there,
In each third month on its third day,
I visit this very hotel in room 303 where,
I enjoy my yearly Adirondack stay.”

Ben beamed at her in disbelief,
Surely there was no key of which she spoke,
So he lead her towards 303 with grief,
As he pondered that he was part of a joke.

When they arrived at the tall locked oaken door,
Ben’s stomach jumped into his throat,
For there was that which was not there before,
With a key and a handwritten note.

It read: “Dearest Grace, I hope this finds you well,
For our new Caretaker has yet been acquainted,
With what the walls of this Hotel tell,
Behind the wood that time has painted.”

Ben of course had not read the note,
For he was frozen in a froth of confusion,
Wondering who had left and wrote,
This note that he once considered delusion.

“Well, that settles it, now you can leave me be,”
Croaked Grace in triumphant glee,
“I hope now you can come to agree with me,
That I have properly reserved room 303.”

“My apologies,” the befuddled Ben conceded,
“If you need anything let me know,”
With that he walked away and proceeded,
To wonder how any of this was so.

The next day Ben went to room 303 at noon,
To bring a cart full of complimentary cuisine,
And from the door he heard a nostalgic tune,
That he used to listen to when he was a teen.

“Housekeeping,” Ben announced as he knocked on the door,
But heard nothing inside but the song,
So he repeated until he knew she was not on the floor,
And went inside when he saw what was wrong.

The room was silent, empty and unused;
 There was no music to be heard at all,
And as Ben stood staring blank and confused,
He saw a locket hanging upon the wall.

He grabbed the locket from the hook,
And left to search for the missing tenant,
Though it did not matter where he would look,
For all that remained of Grace was her silver pendant.

Grace had not returned that afternoon or night,
Nor the next few days during the week,
So Ben quit all efforts to reunite,
The locket with the living antique.

Curiosity crept upon his meddlesome mind,
During the boredom of his lonesome time,
So he decided to take a look behind,
The locket, for a peak was hardly a crime.

It opened effortlessly for the spy’s two prying eyes,
Which widened when then they found the inside,
For a photograph of himself fit neatly to size,
By the vignette of a flash and silver iodide.

The man in the picture was certainly Ben,
Dressed in early twentieth-century attire,
And on the other flap there was written in pen,
“My beloved, Ben, who I’ll always admire.”

Each hair on his arm erected a goosebump welt,
As his spine stiffened into a frozen post,
And liquified as he felt each memory melt,
Into a puddle, reminded that it was a ghost.

Copyright © Brendan J. Simons | Year Posted 2018

Long poem by Christine Phillips | Details

The Storm Is In The Calm

The angles are in the storm
Just before  the break of dawn
Sending a message to everyone
Telling them to remain calm
The angels are singing out loud
They want to break the treacherous cloud
 and relinquish that awful tradition
That has turned water into wine 
swapping barely for wheat and washing the master's feet
Church is church and earth is earth
if you mix water with earth you get dirt
They are swimming in a tradition that is waxed old
guarding and breaching the tethered fence
and whipping up support around the bend
I blink my eyes and cross my legs
So I will prevail until the very end
I have not cried for many days
My chest has grown hard 
and my spirit is getting broad
But today was somewhat peculiar
tears upon tears come rolling over
I wasn't angry or sad 
I just felt that the heavy chain was broken
Piercing me to the core of my heart 
and  ushering me out of the dark to a stronger start
Playing games with innocent lives is not right
Everyday we are rubbing shoulders
But my spirit is getting colder
Here I am sitting on the floor
Looking at the horizon and the broad expanse
Stretching across this magnificent land
I remember when we were in our glory
and how we dominated and conquered the globe
spilling innocent blood plundering 
and running off with  boxes of gold
Those days are  over and its time to seriously think things over
The essence of leadership is not to wave a big stick
But to walk infront and let the people steer the ship
If you ask me what I want,
I would give you a long shopping list
And seven billion people would have seven billion different wish
I could never satisfy everyone's demand 
and sometimes I have to force myself to make concessions.
Empty  your mind and soul 
and start enjoying life before you grow old
You can lead, work hard, and still have fun
Solve the simple and most important  matters first
and leave the difficult ones for last
We have all gone to school
and don't we all know the golden rules?
In business you have no friends 
but relationship is what wins at the end
Loyalty also counts but some people are  sold out
and  I have no choice but to force them out the door
They have enjoyed luxury  for too long 
which is why they have no concrete  plans
They boast of their turkey and red meat
while people are hungry and suffering in the streets
Many have tried to make ends meet
Yet they can't seems to rise to their feet
When my heart melts and my spirit grows cold
Who is there to protect me from the biting cold
They devise ways to throw me out in the streets
With their hired  agents, and  harassers
They  try to take everything away from me
To prove that they are the one in authority
I want to remind them again that their orders cannot
overpower  the supernatural mighty powers
It will grab them by their two hands 
and swirl them across the globe
And they will be puking from their mouth
They have been bickering at me for years
Dragging and pulling me all over the place
Trying to own a world that is not their own
disdaining and looking at me with a terrible frown
They have been turning family against family
Lying to our children  
and filling the children's heads with rumors that are untrue
Who the hell are you?
They have taken everything away from me
Trying to test  their true powers
While their own people are living in darkness
Their streets and communities are desolate at nights
They dragged people out of their beautiful homes
By imposing high taxes that have grow old
so that they can reclaim and take back their property
They don't have good paying jobs
and that really makes me feel sad
I wake early every single day to work from another place
but even so the bills are piling up and I have nothing to cook
Half of the community is empty and they hire
drivers to drive up and down the street
many of whom have nothing to eat
and no decent or comfortable  place to sleep
They do this to make it seems as if the city is upbeat
They deprive people of good paying jobs
so that they can kick them out in the street
And then they can say their journey is complete
Everywhere I go I see their entourage gallivanting about
They have already lost their stance
and  dominance over the globe
Yesterday I walked passed the cemetery
and a cold wind blew in-front of me
Just that spot had the wind blowing in my face
and I could read the message within
The dead souls lying in their graves
are crying out in deep despair
Everytime someone strong comes along
They  weaken them so that they can't dominate the land
They trampled down their power so that they can make them suffer
What is their lesson? no body seems to get it or can learn it
They must come out from behind the hidden curtain
and show their  faces to the entire world
They go around mashing up the world
With their ideology that has already grown old
They use the gangs and mafias
And even the seditious drugs dealers
to harass and con innocent souls
Can they prevent a global catastrophe
When the order is given to melt everything down?
Here I am sitting on the floor
crying like a child who is five years old
I just cannot console myself, I have had it up to my neck
I have not had headache in months but today my spirit is crying
Something strange has been happening
But the Holy one will deal severely with the  perpetrators 
Brother Sam is still messing with my computer
Everywhere he goes he is piling up data
while the bird man is cooking up a plan
 to annihilate the distant land
You waste money on data that cannot prevent an imminent disaster
so be prepared because I have nothing to fear
I  have watched my friend standing on the floor
Her silver hair is crying out loud
They have tossed her around for too long 
when they know that she is very strong
Someone will have to pay the price
for all her hard work, sacrifice  and sleepless nights
Show respect when it is due or the zombies will come for you
They will force you to carry your own tomb stone in your hand
And beckon  you to bury your own carcass in a distant land
Seventeen agencies spread out all over the globe
sticking  karma down their own throat
The storm is in the calm!

Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

Father Time's Surprising Taoist Intimations

Tell me,
Father Time,
if you would share this space
it would mean everything to me
to us, so kind,
which forms of integrative diversity
incarnate your highest priority,
most comprehensive,
social-political-economic-cultural issues:

1. Domestic economy flat-line trends,

2. International peace intent and praxis,

3. Universally perpetually optimizing CQI health care
practices and standards of outcome-production value,

4. Eco-centric and -logical regenerative revelation
in response to climatic, yet chronic, changes,
unbalanced monoculturating times,
evolutionary paradigmatic
as polydigital-language trending
symbiotic evolution?

timelessly offered lifeskills Master Time.

Trying again:
In the unlikely event
that you have the capacity
to give a straight answer
to an eco-political question, 
theoretically far afield from your more temporal concerns,

Which of these four options best fits
your crystal-ball signs of cultural impact,
critical climatic co-responsiveness
should Quinnipiac College survey
synergetic trends
across most likely voters
in our next national election?

Oh, so glad you finally said so.
Let's see...

Number One is too sad and hopeless
at either national or international levels,
but maybe if we interpreted "domestic"
as 'familial"
and/or 'local"
or even
"genetically tribal exegetical branches
and root systems of eco-enriching

It's against our real time language rules
to make up language that does not meet
exe-culturating standards.

I would respond,
but I hardly know where to begin
reiterating the total number of double-negative
standards within your un-natural logos.

This has always been a problem for me,
knowing where to begin,
to end,
to continue our story.

Number Two glares too starry-eyed
for prickly realists,
attorneys and pyramid-structured financial insurance agents,
for struggling real property commodifiers
and landlords, and ladies, of Earth's Commons.

Number Three is too "liberal-Clinton" associated,
in the U.S.,
which is one of the few places
on Earth
where health-assurance continues to be a debated political and economic issue,
rather than an Earth Health Rights
environmentally inclusive
ecological imperative
to respond to global critically screeching
wilting, extinguishing, refuge-seeking demands.

Number Four speaks most clearly
to our stormy TransMillennial emergence generation,
syncing health as following eco-centric polycultural network optimization trends
of YangForm with YinYinFunction.

So, for young adults
through infants
of all currently incarnating
and co-evolving species,
I suggest Number Four,
to optimize culturally transformative healthy wealth
both effective health outcomes
evinced through Best Permacultural Practice research,
anthro-epic mythic-rooted definition
for Beloved Climaxing Unto Near Diastatic,
Eco-Centric Community,
with concomitant Positive Psychology,
communication reiterating-regenerating
co-arising trends
for and from public/private discernment,
reductive harmony meets inductive prediction.

like external,
climatic change
continues to forewarn
we are over-armed with mutually intended ballistics
while under-anchored
with mutually co-arising ballastic in-formation;
organic Earth's co-intelligent red sky
points both dusk and dawn
of this co-operating local/global economic network.

It is like pulling wisdom teeth
without appropriately timed
and functional anesthetics
to follow your run-on temporal syntax.
Father Time,
your words are too dense
for normal neural travel.

If you were consulting a potential political policy
to empower globally inclusive economic incubation,
which of the following four options
is your strategic choice
for mentoring Earth's residents
as faithfully
and lovingly
and effectively
and regeneratively
as possible
through our internal
and external climatic need
for positive healthy enculturating revolution,
designed to logistically deliver
sustainable health outcomes
through life's projected eternity
on planet Earth:

1 Eco-normic thermodynamic political balance?

2. Increasing healthy multisystemic ecotherapeutic relationships
between bio- and eco-systems?

3. Achieving an exegetically accepted
eco-logical polycultured metaparadigm
of analogic-steering
Fullerian Midway Tipping Points
as permacultural Yang/Yin
co-operative harmonic wu-wei discernment
for eco-climaxing regenerative outcomes,

4. (0)-square-root sprouting
our metaphysical spacetime eco-consciousness
on, in, of, by, through
bicameral 4-prime fractal
regenerate RNA-rooted
co-arising intelligence?

Cultural history might suggest
reiterating prior cycles of spiral-octave cultural evolution:

Number One gifts our nondual future
with TransParent NegErgodic
Co-Gravitational Cosmology,
giving birth to RNA
as Host of bilateral Time's awareness
(that's my familial line).

Number Two erupts RNA
eventually spawning Left-brain ego-dominant
deductive-languaged DNA's
lexicon of Yang/Yin double-fractal
Zero-Centric octave sets of frequency,
placeholders of confluently exegetical
positive/negative synaptically reiterative
transgenerational memory.

Number Three barters co-operative political relationships
with co-arising economic optimization,
Us-Them [P=N(NP)]
Win-Win Gaming Tree
on WWW's Earth-as-Universe
balanced electromagnetic
binary-bi-nomial form and function
unitarian languaged mainframing
redundant information discernment systems.

Number Four yet emerges a Positive-C
(or "e" or "P")
evo-logical language
balancing Time's timeless
Right-brain love
of symmetric pattern
and fractal-holonic rhythm frequencies
double-boundaried, self-justifying implicate order
of negentropic dia-syntax,
bi-cytosine as Not(Not-Uracil)
uniting +U/(+/-)C-fractal
defining SpaceTime's 4-prime bi-equivalency,
sustaining enculturation's cooperative economics
with co-arising
primal Tao (temporally bilateral and dipolar) co-relationship.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

Two Wrongs Worth a Right

Today, our first “All About Me” History class begins
when we comprehend every day and night
co-arises with “All About We”
bicamerally encultured
and regenetically reiterated
in and through,
by and for,
before and after,
each moment of Earth Tribe’s timeless surfing times.

If your story
and history
or herstory,
is wrong,

If wrong is negative,
If right is positive,

When do two historic
two cultural
two personal
two political
two familial
two subspecies'
wrongs make it right,
just as a double negative polynomial equals a polynomial positive?

Perhaps when this double-negative shy yinyin,
playing the role of wu wei,
issue develops linear appositional polarity
as negative correlational and co-arising
Tipping Point
of co-gravitationally balancing outcome indicators
of optimizing Continuous Quality Improvement
embracing permacultural health 
and defensive eco/egojustice with contenting peace
and positive economic
and environmental outcome indicators.

Sexism breeds reverse sexism
as racism breeds reverse racism,
two appositional wrongs,
looking for a median flow
creolizing right,
an ego/eco-centering polypathic consciousness.

When the Industrial Age WRONG trend
toward oppressing yin feminist intuitive,
inductive information processing
and Wisdom Languaged systems
the coincidentally nondual co-arising Information Systemic TransMillennial Stage
of Left-brain dominant language
competitionOVERcooperation reverse-equity WRONG (about value-neutral capitalism's antidemocratic evolution, anyway)
deductive-reductive STEM monocultural norms for rational information v. analogical/ecological-temporal-spaciated-sequential-revolving-seasonal-reasonal-health-wealth creolizing wealth,
ecological enculturation,
digital-quantified, commodified, domesticated,
wrongly over-weighted
as of more evolutionary scientific nutritional value
than analogical/ecosystemic
lexical dialectic,
racial-cultural dialectal diversity,
gender balance in political and economic diastatic systems
as Yang/Yin bicameral Left/Right balance comprehended
hypostatic ego/eco-consciousness
bilaterally RIGHT

When hubris WRONG 
of overly competitive commodified domesticated information
political wealth


WRONG undervalue
for cooperative gift-it-forward
Zero-EgoBalanced Interest
Organic EcoSystem Interior and Exterior Consciousness Landscapes,
deep nurturing ecology of health optimization
for all binomially normative Earthcentric biosystems,
all co-arising with co-falling consumer-producer political economies
all infolding with outfolding fractal-holonic dialectal dipolars,
all inhaling with exhaling RIGHT Earth Tribes.

When the WRONG
most over-heated, wilting,
political-economic competitive Win-Lose Game
early health and wealth marginalized losers
begin to notice,
then listen,
to comprehend ecoconsciousness,
why life’s, nature’s, Earth’s
cooperatively co-gravitational
and thermodynamically permaculturally balanced
health as wealth standard ecocultures,
eco-normists for political/financial ego-cooperative AND ecosymbiotic 
struggling-with (not struggling-against)
wu wei tipping points
shyly lurking in mythos engaging logos,
Wisdom Language,
nondual co-arising ReGenesis
of full-life


polyculturally climaxing
Love-Beloved EcoPolitical Community.

Let our polycultural cooperative
emergent composting party
Our egg is fertile,
our Time is PostMillennially
culturally ripe
with bicameral dipolar decomposers, 
policy discernment facilitators,
of political and familial and personal ecosystemic rights
of freedom toward balanced ecological healthy wealth,
with mutually subsidiary double-binding boundaries
excluding ego/eco imbalanced relationships and transactions.

Positive Polynomial Zero
is informationally equivalent
to double-negative Polynomial Zero.

“Yin” is Lao-tse’s “non-being”
as metaphysical as not-now Special Case
except for NOW
as organically-systemically articulating
with full
or near-full trending Yang/Yin
co-arising dialectical diastatic ecobalance
in Special Case physical-natural Universe,
surfing timelessly through Time’s 3-dimensional spaciating
linear-implicate TransParently balanced 
progenitive relationship 
with space.

Primal issues
wear two faces:

Yang asks,
How do we cooperatively intend and practice optimizing
our cultural environment
to facilitate-evolve
healthy individuals,
including ourselves,
with co-resonant respect for our most diastatically
inclusively imaginable voices,

While Yin asks,
How do we/I not lose sight of,
how do I/we defend,
my/our ego-self’s healthy esteem
by optimizing my/our individual/communal
freedom to fully articulate
our most deeply held sense of “ego/Yang” = “eco/yinyou(+/-)yinother”
bicameral balancing identity?

How do we hang onto our most polyculturally,
yet intimately,
held Positive-Esteem Cooperative Psychology,
as individuals (Interior Landscape of ego-boundary identity)
and as a species (Exterior Landscape of eco-freedom boundary identity)?

These two Landscapes bicamerally reside within each human mindbody
of co-arising evolutionary RNA/DNA-syntaxed balance,
DNA dialectal for thermodynamic balance,
fractal-temporal-neural syntax normed
at (0)-soul point of political and economic equi-optimizing interest intent
toward PolyCultural EcoConscienceness.

All About Me days
All About We life,
relational/transactional integrative integrity of  love.

Positive Life is only the cooperative integrity of each bicameral moment’s
potential for co-arising revolutions of  love,
Beloved Community is our polycultural love revolution.

Spread nutrients around,
we’re catching on
when we organically pitch positive compost.

Please send in your questions.
Class dispersed for our further evolution.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

YangyYolks with YinYin-Whites

Start and end each day,
and life,
with a taoist egg.

I doubt my eggs are religious.

No, but they are natural,
organic incubators, 
co-arising nondual yolk form
with white-transparent regenerative function,
and cosmology, maybe,
if you're a chicken,
or a turkey, 
or a sitting duck.

So you say. 
I guess these eggs are merely metaphysical.

You might best remove "merely" from "meta"
lest you perpetuate an oxymoron.
Metasystemic physics,
like life, 
at their best, and most permanently encultured, 
have room for culture and language and religion and spirituality, 
as well as economic science 
as eco-logical nature.

OK, but I'm not absorbing this political empowering metaphysics
of a co-arising incubator,
or an egg,
or whatever.

Eggs are temporary organic incubators.
Therefore, comparatively Closed-Set,
double-boundary individuated.
Only their exterior shells 
remain actively interdependent with their environ-mental 
risk and opportunity.
This double-boundary formatting eco-centric development
responds to thermodynamic balance
both yolk-cellular
and transparent organic/holistic fuel,
compost of 4-channel co-operatively balancing synergetic organization.
Eggs are sensitive to co-gravitational pressure
and have bilaterally limited tolerance levels for speed of climatic change,
which interact with their relative temperatures,
temporal sense of internal heat and exterior cold,
breathing in and out,
slower warm and faster cold.

Maybe I am lost in the forest of your analogizing
but sounds more like you are co-arising
well-composted ego in these eggs.
And, this shell sounds like a scientific eco-paradigm,
with some seriously revolutionary boundary issues,
mutual incompatibility building up a defensive perimeter, 
anti-inductive while pro-deductive
of in-formation dissonance
protecting internal design process,
even language and enculturation,
secluding indigenous specialists to research within,

Still not seeing the Tao in this egg, 
or ego,
or co-arising incubator,
or whatever whenever 
and cultivates 
new life.

If Yang is the power of yolked formation,
while Yin is bilateral-squared flow and function
of ecologically positive octave-frequency nutrients,
regeneratively composting embryonic fractal forms
of RNA/DNA-rooted teleological function,
then which is this full-colored economic health-yolk
and which is this transparent ecological webbish light,
and is it healthier if they tango gracefully,
or tangle bad karmically?

OK, yes, now I see the taoist, well-timed, egg. 
This begins to feel like egg-cooking class for a vegan. 
Now what?

An embryo is a "budh", 
if you are a conscientific Buddha-brain
co-arising embryo,
and a "bud"
in English.

If you imagine your Left brain ego-identification
as your egg's DNA yolk-center
being fed most eco-nutritiously 
by your RNA-inclusive 
SuperEco Right-Only Bilateral
Not-Languaged Eco-Exegenesis
TransParenting cultural fuel-power 
of yin binomial light squared = c-squared 
= e-squared prime-relational Wisdom,
that might be how a post-millennial eco-scientist
would incubate,
and research, 
and nondually bicamerate incarnation,
comprehensively con-scientific 
polyculturally co-operative 
co-arising consciousness
as co-regenerative enlightenment.

So, we are all economic scientists balancing ego-logical 
as eco-normative systems.  
Homo Bicameral Sapiens as EcoNomists.

But, because Yang (+) ego/eco-bodies
are dipolar incarnations 
of Yin's transparently co-arising eco-soul intention,
Yin is Yang equivalent only as squared,
or double-negatived,
or double-bound,
or double-identified,
or both-and
as well as either-or,
or dipolarly frac-taled,
like RNA strings of regenerating in-metaphysic-formation,
coincidentally co-arising
balancing eco-binomial 
[prime root of "polynomial"] 
Right intuitive fractal-octave frequency harmonic
in RNA/DNA's spacetime natural co-arising systemic consciousness.

Wow, dude, that's some really esoteric shit you've been smoking!
Left-yolks just bangin' gracefully away
with Right
TransParently flowing evolutionary information
of eco-conscientific revolutions.

but sticking with generic embryonic Left-brain beginnings,
embryonics, genetics, metaphysics,
a bicameral Taoist ego language developer
might re-paradigm "esoteric" as "eco-terra"--
Earth's ecological syntax-normative
autonomic intelligence,
as ubiquitously displayed
in co-gravitated fractal-root tree structures
of healthy temporal-spatial cellular development,
emerging from aptic-universally transparent
permacultural awareness
appreciation of a more aptic-thru-synaptically inclusive
bicameral Right-unitarian with Left-universalist eco-consciousness.

Now you're saying we are a species of anonymous Buddhists,
and also Unitarian Universalists?
You know,
that "anonymous Christian" conjecture
by Hans Kung
really didn't get great reviews
from many multi-religious exegetes.

but Christianity is a theistically framed view
of our shared eco-consciousness,
our Original Story,
while UUs,
and Buddhists
emerge naturally bilateral co-arising principles of shared consciousness
as self-proclaiming exegetical teleology
incarnating systematic theology;
an ecologic of Fuller's Universal Intelligence,
Yang-Form with Yin-Function, nondually unitarian,
assumes co-gravitational balance as transparent purpose
toward discerning ego-satisfactory meaning (and "meme"ing),
for "Universe",
"Earth", and all DNA/RNA encrypted Earth Tribes
sharing a cooperative vocation
to balance our co-gravitational solidarity
with our thermodynamic eco-DNA/RNA harmonic default preference
for Win-Win mutual Yolk and White subsidiarity,
reverse-hierarchical governance eco-norms,
electromagnetic with elder webbed transparent nutrients
co-mentoring infant yolk.

I think more rainbowed folks
will like these yolks
but I'm not so sure our whites
will appreciate such co-arising/co-falling transparency.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

Professor Glory's Active Hope

The title of this talk today,
"Win-Win Politics of New Feminist Economics"
suggests questions,
more than emasculating 
definitively deductive

Would you imagine
a minority-identified Buddhist,
more likely as a feminist
or culturally comfortable
with political and economic Left-brain domination,
monopolistic competing toward total self-consuming
reiteratively ritualistic functions?

How would you compare broad cultural trends
between East and Western language
on a feminist v. Left-brain monopolistic dominant spectrum?

Which might be more ego-centric,
and which would you expect to be more eco-centric?

Where would you expect to find more
competitive v. cooperative economic support structures?

Which would you expect to be more family-tribal-clan oriented
and which more individualistically ego-oriented?

Which more anthropocentric
and which more nurturing of all life-centric?

Who is more likely to be a feminist-cooperative economist,
a Permaculture Designer
or a Trumpican Party Platform Developer?

Why do you imagine our world,
our nation,
in this appositionally

As a cooperatively intended illustration
of discovering political relativity 
within an economic bicameral lens,
let's compare our sacred colleague Charles Eisenstein's
description of "The Growth Imperative"
with a bracketed revision 
which might be entitled "A Regenerative Imperative."
This, not to suggest disagreement,
but to suggest dipolar co-arising confluence
through using both Left and Right lenses of consciousness:

"Abetted by technology, the commodification of formerly non-monetary goods and services has accelerated over the last few centuries, to the point today where very little is left outside the money realm."

[Abetted by double-binary balancing technology,
the decommodification of newly-commodified goods and services
is accelerating
over these last few decades,
to the point today
where surprisingly little is left
inside the overly competitive quantification of value realm.]

"The vast commons, whether of land or of culture, has been cordoned off and sold--all to keep pace with the exponential growth of money."

[Our Commons of land and culture
and genetic-holonic individuation
continues ego- and anthro-centrically self-strangling
through dispossession of cooperative ownership--
all to keep pace with 
the exponential monopoly of quantifying reductive values,
distorting nurturing health as not quite core-wealth.]

"This is the deep reason why we convert forests to timber, songs to intellectual property, and so on."
[This is the deep ecology of why we permaculturally harvest forests
for timber,
culturally nurture songs toward cooperative intellectual property,
and so on,
yin toward yang
and back again 
balancing evolution.]

"It is why two-thirds of all American meals are now prepared outside the home."
[It is why two-thirds of all American meals
are now less nutritionally prepared
outside our under-valued
health-producing organic homes and lives.]

"It is why herbal folk remedies have given way to pharmaceutical medicines, why child care has become a paid service, why drinking water has been the number-one growth category in beverage sales."
[We, together, are why herbal folk remedies
could further enrich pharmaceutical medicines,
from which they originally derived,
why child care has become a paid
yet under-valued
why bottled and labeled drink of nature's primally flowing health
has become the number-one competitive growth category
in what used to be
the Commons egalitarian river-flow of life.]

While we each have internalized theories
about what positive and negative correlations
we evolve between Left-deductive dominant
v. feminist-egalitarian values and disvalues,
co-relations only recently occurred to me
as what co-operative political assumption
feminist-ecologist-economist culture
may share as ubiquitously as individuated DNA
co-gravitates toward universal RNA syntax.

Buddhist, and Taoist, philosophy
calls dipolar correlations
"dependent co-arising"
while scientists may share this same principle
of thermodynamic,
and gravitational
co-elliptical curve-linear temporal balance
"endo/ecto-symbiotic evolution."

As inclusive theoretical physicists
and mathematicians
and statisticians
we might re-member political mutuality
of species evolution
as co-relation,
coincidental trend emergence
between two or more
interdependent dipolar-articulating variables.

Buckminster Fuller
labeled his entire geometric metaphysics of consciousness
and ecological development
after this primal principle
of interdependent co-arising "synergetics,"
and re-ligioning
and re-cognizing 
synergy is to physics
as love is to metaphysics,
and perhaps economics
and eco-logic,
health and well-being,
co-operative Positive Psychology,
design and development ethics and organic health/wealth outcomes,
which begins to feel
like ethical policy development,
useful for a healthier political
and conversational
and familial
and ego/ecosystemic
balancing process.

Where I did not anticipate discovering 
mutually-dependent co-arising cooperation
was in the Prime-Origin field of Cosmology,
although a cursory glance at mythology,
shamanic teaching,
taoist co-existential paradox of evolving Yang/Yin principles
within nature
inclusive of human nature,
predicating male/female functional co-arising
and natural balance;
these were all,
in hindsight,
significant clues saying
"please don't be surprised
when you get to universally unitarian cosmology
as double-transparent co-gravitation of our Commons".

Dual transparency of Time
as Zero-dimensional negentropicentric space
bicamerally suggests
co-operative  gravitational power politics and economics
lie at the (0)-Soul Core Prime Relationship
of our global Origination Story.

Interdependent co-arising revolutions
continue unfolding
into our political lap
during this endangered
Cooperative Transitional Generation.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Laura Breidenthal | Details

To Be A Friend Pleaser

I heavily recall two times when I had made you cry,
Both of which bewildered and moved me
My response was that of disbelief, and regret
And never, upon recalling, 
Have I felt more of the need to address these moments

We were young, certainly, tied together by our imaginations, 
Our wit, and artful talents, 
You, an adept, musically inclined, 
And I musically aroused 
It seemed such a normal day that my guards were broken,
And I freely blabbered, 
As I would to a sibling, or my favorite play thing
We had known each other for a while,
And I deemed it right to show my all
You shared your favorite toys with me, 
And I made it my signature, in my goofy ways, 
To disperse each play session stirring your mind
So that you may laugh, and I may laugh too

I remember the living room, 
Sitting on the light brown carpet floor
And Grandma, for I considered her my grandma too,
Contented on the couch, enjoyed our giggles, and smiled,
While she read her weekly romance novel
I always wondered the reason for her reading,
And how she might receive pleasure in such a simple thing as
Attending to our nonsensical trifles

We played with our stuffed animals,
Hers was a white, fluffy bear with sophisticated clothes
And mine, an alligator, naked, and morose looking
I thought it would stir more laughter if,
In contrast to the kind, gentlemanly bear,
The alligator would respond in grumpy exclamations,
Even insult, if he were pushed too far to conform 
For as the gentlemanly bear insisted upon conversing with the alligator,
Having tea with him and discussing matters of interest, 
The alligator’s response, frank and cold was soon drawled to,
“No, no, no, I do not want to!”
Having repeated such a phrase a couple times,
I saw that it resulted in her laughing,
So, repeating the phrase, 
I meant to conjure more fits of joy,
However, after the third repeat, she suddenly stopped, 
The insistent gentleman was speechless
In a strange pause I stared at my friend,
Watching her pink cheeks pale,
And her eyes water with sudden tears
I squeezed the alligator, almost cursing it instead of myself,
Watching her and wondering what had caused this sadness and pain
She turned away from me, and cried, 
Getting up quickly, embarrassed, and darting into her room

Grandma seemed understanding, 
And this bewildered me even more
Surely, I had done something awful, 
Making my closest friend cry,
And surely, a lecture was soon to put in me in my place
Instead though, she apologized to me, 
And told me not to worry, that she would be just fine
Though never, being the friend pleaser that I was,
Did I feel more awful, and more worrisome
I thought of what I might do to make her feel better,
As Grandma walked down the hall and entered her room
I thought perhaps, she would want me to go home,
So I got up, stuffed my bag with my things,
And waited at the door,
Rehearsing in my mind a thousand apologies

She returned out of the room, 
Saying nothing, but motioning me to the floor with the toys
I obeyed her, never more guarded and thoughtful in my life,
And we resumed our play session
The alligator had took a turn to being quite the sweet chap
And realized that the gentlemanly bear was not as annoying
And bossy as he first thought,
That he only needed a friend to talk to
Someone kind and understanding

The second instance was in a later year
Dear Grandma was away in a separate apartment
Her father was frequently at the house, 
A quiet, but nice man, 
Always retreating to the back room
Whenever we entered the house for lunch or to retrieve a doll
Despite his kindness, his reserve slightly intimidated me,
And the few times he addressed me 
Were always awkward, and thankfully, short
We were more inclined to outside activities those days,
Roleplaying, sporting, and running about,
I the servant and she the princess
I did not much mind the role of the servant, 
As I had many quirks, 
And nothing too great was expected of me
We often, befriended despite our opposite positions,
Would sit at the swing set and converse together
As equals, almost,
The princess gaining from the servant wit and adventure,
And the servant, gaining from the princess,
Patience, poise and simplicity
But our session was long over as I heard the call from her father,
And we both sighed, and ran into the house
My mother had come to pick me up,
And her father, gently, led me to the front door,
With the usual, “See you later!”, 
And, “It was good to see you again!”
My friend, happy in countenance, bid me goodbye,
Smiling, though pale, once again
It did not occur to me at the time,
That she was on the brink of tears
And as I got into the car, 
As we pulled out of the driveway,
I saw the look of sadness and despair on her face
Her eyes… they splashed on me grief
She was staring at me, tears running down her face,
Her body quivering, standing at the curb
I could barely make out from the muffle of the car,
The sound of her crying out,
Just as her father stormed outside, dragging her away,
“Ashly, what the f*** is wrong with you!!!??”
And we drove away, my face plastered to the window,
Thinking to myself, 
“What have I done?”

I was so confused,
So sad, and so strangely angry
To see her father drag her in that way
Though I wondered, perhaps, I had faulted her once more
That in me leaving, she took it as a rejection,
And I felt it my duty to be near her again,
To assure her that I was always her servant
And she was always the princess
I could not, if I wanted to,
Revert to the mindless alligator again,
And, like her father, disregard her enigmatic feelings,
As well as her insistent need for affection and kindness
I vowed I would always provide her with my best
So that only smiles and laughter animated her delicate being

To be a friend pleaser—yes, that is what I am,
Requires more of self, to even enhance oneself, 
To build up the deprived,
To change perspective, 
And change character,
And in turn, serve selflessly,
For to gain the thrill of happiness
From a more than worthy companion,
Is, for me, to gain the world

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

Gaia Out Speaks

Queen Gaia
of Earth's Shabbat
is here to speak today.

she can only sign,
and the only way she can see
is through our DNA/RNA fractally-balancing syntax,
so she has asked if she could respond to your questions,
as she understands them
within Time,
who are her TransParent Gender Memories,

YangGod, of Physical Convex Special Case Universe,
and Goddess YinYin,
of metaphysical RNA-temporal syntax,
both bilaterally and bicamerally-reiteratively balancing
Earth Tribes of organic ecosystemic processors,
and planters and dialectical planners,
with interdependently balancing consumer and production functions,
exegeting iconic communication
about natural-empirical facts of Earth's nutritional life,
with Zero-centric dialectical neutral tone and energy
and spacetime,
+/(-,-) neural-synaptic/aptic
ecotemporal balance of Time's transparent memory.

Wow, go Gloria,
you optimize my Mother's BiCameral Pretensions
with such dense summary
of WinWin's PolyCultural HealthCare and Safety CQI 
CoOperative Agenda!

About which we are facing some increasingly climatic issues
of ecosystemically pathological trends
throughout our full RNAcentric EcoLens,
and through our DNAcentric AnthroLens,
where correlational trends
of human political and economic and nutritional systemic ends
of all paradigmatic cultural dialects
are now at both high and deep levels of pathological risk,
as well as polycultural and cooperative health opportunity
to mutually embrace this Transitional Time,
remembering our Golden Rule applies
through both our AnthroLens
and our EcoLens.

Thank you for that background summary
of your unfortunately limited synergetic flow power
during this Yin-recessive moment
within YanGod's precessive, evolutionary transition
toward full-balancing Interior with Exterior,
Ego with Eco, DiPolar Identities
of Time's polycultural diversity.

I don't know how many questions you will invest
with all your climatic signing
necessary to be heard and seen right now,
trying to gently calm all the "Loser!" angers and fears
within critical-transitional, revolutionary change,
so I will ask my personal favorite
because I find it so curious:

"Queen Gaia, don't you think it would be Bodhisattva Warrior timely
to come out of your bisexual agenda closet?"

You know, that is one of my favorite questions too,
in part because it took me so long to hear it.

It is difficult to hear and comprehend climatic questions
that you are confident you have already responded toward,
signed with sufficient redundancy
as to be ridiculously ubiquitously flying in obviousness.
Of course our RNA and DNA memory embryonic strings
are full dipolar-engendered,
so how could Queen Gaia of Shabbat's historical-cultural Creation Story
be anything other than TransParent Yang/YinYin as WinWin
evolutionary co-gravitational thermodynamic revolutioning balance
of BiLateral-Reiterative Genetic Time?

Species of systems,
like any possible imaginable metaphysical use of the word "system,"
must have Yang/Yin balanced-governance economics
to interdependently sustain synergetic dynamics,
positively healthy regeneration trends
capable of consumer and/or producer systemic function.
Neutrally (0)-balanced ecosystems,
sustained in RealTime cooperative interdependence,
are Positive-PolyCultural trending
and Negative-MonoCultural trending
dipolar BiNomial Balance of at least outsideness
as appositionally equivalent double-binding insideness,
cogravitational boundary of surfing BiGenderative Time.

So, yes,
Queen Gaia is BiGenderal
and therefore Shabbat signs
with DiPolar Syntax language,
with normative-neutral
ecosystemically BiGendering 
positive/light OVER negative/dual-bound transparent
equi-valent 4-seasons
of dialectical reason and co-intelligent in-formation
eco-flowing optimized,
nutritional flow of healthy resonant resolutional wealth,
celebrating Yang/Yin Golden EcoBalancing Rule
of Love/Synergy 
as co-arising Presence of mutual gratitude
for my Gift-It-Forward
ecologically evolutionary politically inclusive economy.

See, I knew we were sisters!
I mean,
how could the root nature of Time's Positive
equals Negative
climatic energy Shabbat
not continuously and confluently declare your BiGenderal
EcoConscientific Beauty!

Thanks. That means a lot,
especially right now
as we have arrived together
at such a critical moment.

OK, next question?

Well, perhaps I would add,
in defense of our timing
on this transgender balance of nature issue,
you do realize, I hope,
that millions of people
throughout Earth's ages
living within some level of transgender identity,
other than BusinessAsUsual missionary crusading hetero-anthro,
have understood "Queen Gaia of Shabbat"
quite deviantly from a Jewish concept
of a Queen Bee?
There are diverse nuances for "Queen"
which do not easily translate across dialects.

I can't tell you the number of times
we have looked in a lake or a river or a mirror
and imaged Queen Gaia in drag.
Imaging possibilities is how we recreate together,
usually within our own subcultural dialects.

Just as mutually therapeutic responsibility
is how we regenerate
as cooperative individuals
and as a species
and as this entire Shabbat Paradise-Potentiating Planet
of Earth's RNA/DNA ReGenerative Trees,
InFormating EcoMemory Rivers
dipolar rooting FireGod's transparent compost
of LoveLight to WinWin,
articulating (0)-centric 4D
endosymbiotically cellular
diastatically optimizing natural growth trends
toward just-right Yang/Yin balanced exchange atmosphere
for Queen Gaia of Shabbat
to rise and shine sustained.

You do realize that you can sign what you just said
a lot faster than all the redundant nuances of my language
can capture,
trying to mono-transculturate polycultural regeneration?
I'm having trouble keeping up with you.

Well, try slowing down
looking at trees,
contemplating their root systems,
noticing how under-standing revolves 
eco-normics of a political integritree.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Long Poems