Said the caste abolitionist
to the privileged preservationist
What Earth needs outside
we both feel inside
What people want inside
fills and spills outside
Following polycultural
polypathic
polyamorous
polytheistic Golden Rules
Ways
Means
Golden Ratios.
Caste abolition,
like anthropocentric constraint,
and unlike narcissistic complaint,
engages transformative potential
to recreate an organic civilization
in which every sacred body
has what is needed
and every polyamorous mind
has what is wanted.
Every neurological system
well-trained
and peace-making empowered
to recognize
and responsibly self-correct
any dissociative dissonant differences
between body nurturing needs
for kind touch
and mind-care wants
for compassionate communication
Spoken
and unspoken,
saged
and mused,
crowned
and rooted,
mountained
and valleyed
FatherSunned
and EarthMothered,
LeftBrained
and RightBodied,
enlightened
and empowering,
polished Win+Win
and abolished Win v Lose.
Normally people claim to like
New things. However, this is
Not always the case.
Neuropharmacologists have found that high levels of
Norepinephrine can alter minds to cause other
Neurotransmitters to direct thoughts along
Non-divergent paths so that the old is preferred and
Now reject any changes to environment.
Naturally people will take a
Noncommittal approach to all of this by denying all of this if asked
Negotiations will then take place to elicit the truth from these
Nonconformists who feel that anything said will be printed in the latest
Newsletter for Neurological Sciences which will make them appear to be
Neurotic
Neophytes. They may feel they have to inhale copious amounts of
Nitrous Oxide to regain their sense of
Normalcy. But this is being
Naïve.
No amount of a drug will allow them the
Novel lifestyle they so enjoy.
My neurological needs spread like a flea, sapping my strength, sucking my blood like a relentless disease.
Creating chaos, disorder this man has no order where which his life goes.
God only knows my hope's a fragile border that turns barren and cold.
Where once was order, now shadows arise.
As harmony fades and the light slowly drains where no life remains.
I've observed my thoughts
They naturally flow through my mind
Some true, some scripted
Some redundant, unkind
These are my memories, creating emotions
They're my unique experience in this life
Viewed from a platform
Sometimes exposing a neurological strife
We must turn through all the pages
Go beyond the human history of time
It is there we find the answers
Stamped in our ancestral climb
Like waves in the ocean
That relentlessly pounds the shore
The past flows through us
Like a stranger knocking at our door
We try to avoid this stranger
We’re frozen with fear
But the knocking keeps coming
Year after year
It's the ancestral sound
Of those who came before
Surprisingly, the noise lessens
When we open antiquities door
Now the waves begin to subside
As does the ancient battle in my mind
I become the true observer of the thoughts
They're clear and kind
Story of pat,
Can you hear the sirens?
The old mans values engulfed with burning lust of minors,
Patrick’s family left in suspense & deprived,
Waiting to hear news, if their son is alive.
Peter 5:8 of the bible reads the devil walks among us,
I have met him in a house on fifth street living just behind us,
Across the road from a park there is a house of sin,
This is where a dark story in my life will begin.
Twenty- two years have gone by,
For Pat, his life stolen at the age of 9,
PAEDOPHILE, PAEDOPHILE, PAEDOPHILE! You took more than a life,
But if we tell anybody that you touched us, we will get in strife, right?
Twenty-two years later a neurological hijacking of a memory I must revise,
Tearful compassion as I feel the pain for Pats horrific demise,
I am sorry to the family if they find this written poorly,
“This is Emergency can I ask who is calling”....
Can you hear the sirens?
Troy.B.
I arose, hoping to keep my eyes closed, ignoring the sights and sounds of neurological discrimination.
What becomes of this world if I feel withheld, admist a landscape of devoid or justice or reason, my view unexplored.
This world has me shaking, it feels me with vile hate.
It's not about black and white, nor the height of our fellow man.
I'm sick of this need for social greed.
Forgotten are the struggles of those who quietly stand ideally by.
What about my pain?
What about my strain?
Yet here I remain burdened by this neurological chain.
This is my voice these are my issues.
But I'll endure the murmurs and whispers that arise.
It's my problems, my struggles, but I just can't contain.
This bleek, black feeling of empty thoughts and unexplained pain.
Who listens to my shouts in the night?
When my beating heart rises and my breath falls short.
A silhouette seeks passage in a shrouded cloak and my scripts are composed for one.
Who is the creator of my subconscious soliloquy which narrates into an empty room? No encore sought, just a faded thought grasped in the morning light.
Exhausted, my sweat drowns in a cotton wrap, beaten, submission arrives when my eyes meet the sanctuary of dawn.The epilogue is short, the words fall silent when my limbs, now weary, rise from its stage.
Each night, a mare of twisted verbs that weave and turn. This suitor haunted through nocturnal tales where rest is brief and the journey fraught. My torment continues through the lottery of night. Let this one be calm?
REM disorder
Neurological disease
Seeking a cure soon
There is a darkness that light cannot find
Perhaps neurological: all in the mind
nevertheless, it's a most spooky place
housing strange shapes of forgotten disgrace.
Yet, once in a while, I will journey there
often to disarm an ugly new scare.
The last time I went there, I met a man
who dwells in the darkness by his own plan
The light hurts his eyes; it should hurt our''s, too
it shows the wrongs we can never undo
It's best, he says, to avoid all the light
and keep our demons safely out of sight
You now know my story (I might be dazed)
because by the dark, I'm no longer fazed
If I've wronged someone, please accept my shame
I didn't do it, my mind is to blame.
(FND awareness)
Functional Neurological Disorder
Sounds far more serious than required.
However, life now makes more sense.
That's how it is. It's the way I'm wired.
I thought I had a medical "epsy"
Due to crazy symptoms that make one tired.
It's good to know it's only FND.
It's not my fault. It's the way I'm wired.
The structural hardware works just fine.
(An explanation I've now hired...)
The wiring itself is up the creek,
So the wrong signals get fired.
Why have I come in here?
My memory has expired!
Yet, suddenly I remember that
It's down to the way I'm wired.
There's never a dull moment.
So much humour can be inspired!
There's many a joke that can be told
About the way I'm wired.
I feel like am in a dark hole,
Being sucked in by her thoughts hovering in my head like a satellite in space.
I have found myself bound in a cobweb by her series of thoughts.
It’s clear when it comes to her, I have neurological weakness.
I don’t blame myself, she’s a nice piece of art and as a painter, and I know art when I see one.
Her thoughts are like tyres with treads leaving trails whenever we see each other.
because I am definitely far from your name and because I feel the coldness of the stones I inhabit, in addition to the roughness of the surfaces I find, the lack of comfort and the wind from this distance, I pushed aside the smiles but failed to ward off the fool pain of your memory, storing everything in the same shadow that consumes me, because up here the sun is not light, up here every star is just a fierce blade and the quicksand of this soil swallows all life and hope and so, because still I have something human left, I allowed this instance to be a kind of neurological slaughterhouse where the red corridor and the hanging hooks would spare you, leaving you only to observe my gestures, now limited to sorting the debris of my thoughts, classify the waste and remains of the of the last years, the decadence of my galaxies and its stupid stages, the incorrect decisions that only increased my mistaken selfishness and now here you are, a squalid image of reality, the projection fantasy of my sick mind, witnessing in the abstract the last staggering steps of the nightmare I used to call existence.
The pursuit of erotic
exotic climaxing paradise
is not neurotic
about biological perfection
And almost entirely resilient
and resonant impressions
through sensory neurological connections:
Feeling touch
Smelling taste
Sighting sound
******** directions,
cooperative indiscretions.
Enticing beat,
ancient accolades, achieving ancestry
backbeat barrage, buoyant beats
crescendo chorus calculations
dulled dirges, double drumming durations
environmental echoed egos
faint, fading fervent falsettos;
Ghost-Note grooves
hi-hat hoop heads hued
intended isolation idio-synchrony
jembe jaunt journeyings
kidi kick knockings
linear lick loggings
metronome mallets magical
nostalgic notations neurological
ostinato off-beat odd-modulationss
paradiddle percussive permutations,
rudimentary rack repetitions, relentless rolls,
soft solitary shakers, steady shredding, single stroking spurs,
tenacious, tribal tectonic tympani trance
udu utterance
vibraslap virgin, vivid vibes vile,
wood-block whirls winging wild
xboba, x-hat, xaern
yearning yugen yarn
zigzag
enticing beat.
I can see difference,
but also sameness,
between neurological networks
and internal/external co-empathic sensory experience
InBetween metaphor and analogy
reflecting contrast and cooperative comparisons
between natural perception
and spiritual feelings
Of confluence/dissonance
with and without
all that is Holy
and Dissonant
Persistently
devilishly against all we feel holonic
organic
synergetic
interdependent
creolizing
integral.
A root metaphor
for this win/win creative intention
invites a seed's natural potential
to experience a healthy spiritual root system
embedded in a polyculturally wealthy experience
of naturally spirited EarthGaze
Nights and Days
for co-invested wellness
of universal health
ConCelebrations
for unitarian wealth
ComPassions.
Competitive capitalism
is about dominance,
which increases separation,
space between Winner haves,
and Loser have-nots
Degenerating into polarized views
more culturally dominant
than old-school cooperative middle
in-between
socio-economic median disappearances
Away from civically active democratic imagination,
focus,
functionally experiential frames
favoring cooperative democracy
over capital plutocracy.
Democracy is about win/win bicameral consensus
which grows integrity
between co-investing Haves
and HaveNots,
depolarizes our EitherHave/OrNotHave
eco-politically valued lives
Mediating in-between re-membering,
reweaving multigenerational cooperative
matriarchal empowering history
of mutually enlightening democratic health care
Through cooperative ownership
stewardship
citizenship
home and meal management
integrity of co-responsive thought and feelings,
polycultural communication
and multicultural energy systems
Refracting integral re-MEMEory
left-hemisphere empowering
right-hemisphere energetic win/win
neurological waves of win/lose healing
win/win co-investing light.
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