Long Womb to tomb Poems

Integrate
rather than segregate.

Yin
rather than too much Yang dominance.

At least in the worlds of Permaculture Design
and Systems Theory
and Democratic Political Theory,
Polycultural outcomes
are healthier
and thereby wealthier,
than monoculturing economic and political,
ecopolitical-psychological
and social and cultural
and any system-balancing
obectives.

Monocultural objectives
in an...

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Give as you can co-invest green,
Receive as you need,
Be all we are cooperatively becoming.

A deep root chakra foundation
of healthy polycultural life,
positive/negative mind-embodied
consilient unstrifed life
is far more than pre-death
in win/win whole open systemic
EarthTribe regenerative/degenerative networks
supporting transportively...

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Five WiseElders come together
hoping to complete their life circles
resonantly yin, right embodied
sacred light
resiliently yang, left enspirited
secular polypathic bright

Hearing emotions
before seeing to speak changing motions
of flow-strength, river currents spinningly deep
and winningly wide
to move Earth's deforested
un-glaciered mountains.

I...

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Unnumbered human corpses
mutilated and spread
like illegally-shot elephants in Waza Park!
From ‘man know thyself’
to ‘man hates himself’-
humans mutilate humans!

Future-bound glorious infants,
feeble moms
and luck-abandoned dads
bombed, suffocated, shot and slain
by politico-economic drunks!
Yawning stomachs here,
blood-dripping arms there,
open-mouth frozen heads...

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WOMAN'S WITS
By  Ronalyn M. Pupa
“There is a woman in the house!”
She is the man’s partner and supporter,
Maintains household’s peace and order,
          Alone or with you,...

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(Dedicated To Submariners All Over The World)
 
Dived deep in the bowels of the seas
My steely shell’s a womb.
Deep down amidst the oil and grease
I am at peace in the Lovecraftian tomb!
 
What’s with the...

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la 
                                 ...

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This is where black breaks open into bright bleeding feeling
as souls suffer the fire of flesh to enter arena Earth screaming
searching the ether for Adam and Eve's answer to forbidden fever
while angels wear snake skins...

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use ...

choose ...
the hues of blues
blacks, whites - news
a day-old bruise that lies like torment

under the skin, thin, to squirm and tickle
itching, twitching to send you the fickle reminder
the daily, hourly, minute-by-damn-minute message
vestiges of the...

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NOT PERFECT
God, my life is an open book and you wrote it
I am sticking to your script, sometimes am overly neurotic
But I pray you give me a sign
My ways are so dark,  give me...

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Years have I been traveling
The deep, dark, dreamy waters
Unraveling the babbling
Of prophets, fools, and martyrs

Sailing my ship of questions
Seeking wisdom and rhyme
Assailing the keeps and bastions
Of kingdoms lost in time

Time is really irrelevant
The beginning and...

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It feels sadly ironic,
and unwise,
to focus healthcare 
on digestive system deliveries
to feed and water our bodies

And underinvest,
too rarely applaud
and enrich
nurturing nutrition communications
made through our neural-sensory systems
natural/spiritual health care deliveries
and wealth care receptions
from abundantly compassionate
panentheistic worldviews

In...

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Alas, we live in an imperfect world.
We long for somewhere free from strife and pain--
Some Shangri-La or Eden whence, like Cain
When driven forth in anger, we were hurled.

And now our search is endless for some...

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Womb to Tomb

         New life from womb to pass 
        through childhood and youth
      and...

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MY MOTHER

See her laden and brimming with the sheaves
On a hilly furrowed plane shrouded by leaves
Her way homewards she plods and heaves.

See her joggles on the spinning wheel
A textile she winds out the cotton reel
And...

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Their elan and their eclat only made my ennui bloom
It made me long, made me yearn for the womb or tomb

When given carte blanche by the dilettante masses
I found my creative spirit to be lacking...

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From womb to tomb we are all alone...
Merely interacting with other vessels...
We stay busy with our repetitive, mundane jobs...
We are slaves to the green paper that sustains us...
We are all ghosts in shells meandering through...

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Tears smudged face
Sparkles in my eyes
Fears the spanks the cane paced 
The treasures she offered whole
When I was small

Shared laughter, fears and dreams
She hardly rest but beside my sick bed?
Holds herself like a sandalwood ...

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