Political Muse Poems

Music
especially sacred music
feels round

Not such clear lines
prescribing desecrating marches
needing to move somewhere
noting something
speaking against someone
in StraightWhite privileged time

Right/Left balancing divas
sometimes sing in resonant rounds,
round
and round
in...

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A mental health difference
between being stuck
in an impoverished designation
and being stuck 
trying to merely survive
with mostly "Loser" marginalization
dehydration
ancient locked-up degeneration

Feels like same difference
between economic red-lined
unenlightened...

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I don't know that poetry
needs be anything but poetry,

while myself realizing
that definition greatly varies –

but I have seen acrobatic
words that flop like
wingless birds, 

and predictable...

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"The Auditing"

We are all numbers
aren’t we? continually,
we are audited daily,

we audit each other
regularly 
but we aren't regular 

we are the noun 
that rhymes with 
britches

too...

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Lost Art

There was a time
when we waited eagerly
for the mailman -
when mail deliveries 
had actual mail in them
 
There were real 
hand-written letters 
from parents,
cousins,...

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A problem with breath-focused sitting
eyes hooded
closed down sensory receptor meditation,
in my peak omnipotent mindful experience

This inside passive form of seeking resilience
presumes we consistently care
about furthering...

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"Laid Upon Their Alters" 

qhapaq hucha 
it begins at birth
the most precious 
resource of all

we are registered,
audited, one by one
under the rod measured
by lizard rule...

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When my unlanguaged
RightBrain intuitive
mute muse default son
speaks in throated sounds,
urgently loud,
quietly lulling,
boisterously laughing
from belly
up to smiling dimpled face

He wants
and expects,
possibly demands,
nonviolent communication

And needs
compassionate companionship,
as do...

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Why does she know
laying our music down
raises musicality
reality up?

Does she also know
why my lips prefer to sing
in resonant Oh,
Oooooooh...
oozing round O's
and singular Ah's
free of mapping...

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Sometimes pandemic people share
pieces of our unspeakable personal story

That no health care worker,
sex therapist player,
or green resonant systems organizer
wants to hear,
much less smell,
or touch,
or deeply...

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I find it easier
and, admittedly, more fun
to climb through tough terrain,
piles of leaves,
loose rocks,
debris,

If
and when
my goal is not to push sweaty through
by force of independently...

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Anger
is such a useful learning silence tool,
when not too short-term
ballistically reactive,
weaponized.

I have seldom noticed
when my own hot-burning issues
cold turn into
a Self and Other harsh
punishing vengeance...

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If muses
have sacred meanings
deeper
and before secular evolving purposes,

As ordained vocations
are to painful employment,

Then what music
would
could
should we prefer outside
to health care inside
digest?

Together peaceful
in resonance

Deeper
and before traumatic
warring
wearied
worn...

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If I were a poor woman
I would dance and sing
through basement boogy woogy bars
all these days and nights
of EarthTribe healthy men

Winning
not measured in applause
but absorbing...

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How could an established Muse
sing and dance 
invisibly transparent?

What could a mute Muse
not sound like?

Absence, without/within contentment
Neglect, without/within benign compassion
Divestment, with out/in co-investment history
Loss, without/in...

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