Panic’s funny if it’s explained in rhyme.
I’m at a brite, swank, corporate event
summarized by its unexceptional
atmosphere - so I put on my watch face
- hanging back, an observer in the pack.
Fitting in is emotional labor
I couldn’t be more chilled - there’s a ‘work’ me,
who knew? Like a LinkedIn survival skill.
It must be a very recessive gene.
Adulthood happens without my consent,
like old iTunes agreements no one read.
Sooner or later we must all face the
unsparing proposition of working
- the need beneath it is adult and real.
Not money, in my case, something bigger,
something I must approach indirectly.
The wheel of life may spin quite wildly, but
ultimately, it lands on consequence
.
.
A song for this
kid by everything but the girl
kid by the pretenders
The reflections of
your broken mirror
are more distorted
than you know
You wear your
true colors
on your sleeve
& they show who
you really are
I see your scars
& your pain
along with the regret
that hides with
your shame
Your feigned
indifference to the
pain you cause others
doesn't hide a thing
It brings your true
nature to the surface
automatically & not
in a casual way
Your purposeful acts
graphically illustrate
the self hate you
bury deep
What's on display?
That weak inner child
weeping & dying to be
heard so badly
that it screams
Lashing out
in attempts to be seen
only highlights your
recessive traits
Your aggressive verbs
define your pronoun
as it relates
to the whole
The hole you continue
to dig only gets deeper
but if that's the goal
kudos to you
What is that mirror
reflecting back?
Broken versions
of you
a truth that you
obviously don't see
If you did you'd
free yourself from the
illusion of what you think
you wanna be
If i see it
be sure that
others do as well
even if they don't show
or tell you
Could pray tell
these words be the
missing pieces
your broken mirror
wants to show you?
Rose's are Red
Violets are blue
Crimson is the
colour of blood
All in a symphony
of love
Skin colour is only
skin deep
White, dark, ebony brown
skin colours
Ebony black is dominant
While white is recessive
Running only skin deep
Crimson is still the
colour of blood.
(Written January, 2026)
It’s all an illusion.
We are the stuff that dreams are made of.
Delusions of grandeur.
God’s special project, Earth.
It certainly stands out from all the rest.
Water is life. Is water God’s blood?
The atmosphere, His breath?
The Universe, His Body?
The Stars, His eyes...
Where there is no escaping His gaze,
Or the occasional Solar flare.
Then there is me.
His souper special project.
I certainly stand out from all the rest.
Yet I remain hidden
From all the scrutiny.
I’m not a god like Krishna
Being born a little differently.
Am I more or less likely
To be born in His image too?
Or am I just an anomaly
With my twelve toes and bi-fid thumbs?
Perhaps, I have some left over recessive ancestral alien DNA
Coming to life thru me?
Or maybe, I’m just a mutant all mixed up into the gene pool
Swimming thru life doing the butterfly stoke, feeling it’s effect
All the while sipping poetrysoup
With a perma grin plastered all over my face
And the word ‘SUFFER’ birthmarked on my other cheek.
The universe swallowed my thoughts
In another instant of uncertainty
Truthfulness and doubt together were something
Morphed into a new creation of nothing
As if my time itself were the black hole
And I, a dwarf star in the infinite sky
Waning in the moment’s loss of control
Where another hope was left to die.
Shapeless and unseen in darkness
Lost in the infinite, recessive light
A contorted mass of possibilities gone
Like the dim light of a rainy dawn
Ambitions and plans stricken by loss
And I, a fading star in a familiar crowd
Carrying an even more familiar cross
To be convicted of the sins I’ve avowed.
Brighter stars illuminate without me
Much like the brilliance I once exuded
A new creation of barely something I’ll be
With much less to adore in low luminosity
And as the universe recycles these thoughts
Uncertainty strangely becomes known
In all my doubts, I have become a have not
With my mistakes left with me for which to atone.
The circling
revolving nature of Earth
spirits spiraling change
through seasons of light and dark
spaces emergent
and recessive
times and seasons emergent,
sometimes obsessive
About our aging human nature
of LeftBrain spirited people
to resist change,
the unknown
noisy risks of trauma,
abuse,
emotional neglect
And to further resist
restrain
strain against
the awkward
the embarrassing
the humiliating
shaming
blaming
Judged an anti-social health risk
safety risk
immoral behavior risk
anger and violence risk.
Thank Gaia
for pushy green cooperative
co-governing ecofeminist
network
systems
Recreating polytheistic sacred myths
matriarchal sabbath legends
medicine women
wise old women
domestic economic circles
nonzero open wholistic sensory-neural systems
Win/win resilient
resonant
cognitively virtuous
resilient
trauma-prevention networks.
At last,
we are angry with each other
coincidentally,
simultaneously,
which may be a coincidence,
but probably not;
Depending on active faith
in linear cause-effect relationships,
leftbrain dominant yang powers,
And/or
circular dipolar co-arising
co-passioned effective unpolarized relationship,
causes v effects = effective causal recycles
of rightbrain both/and recessive yintegrity.
Now,
at last,
we have set our synergetic communication stage
to test this ancient hypothesis
that two negatives
are equal to a potential positive co-passion,
as polynomials
may equal not not polynomials
Where positive
also equals leftbrain healthy
and rightbrain safe
And negative anger
equals leftbrain liberally
communication healthy
when rightbrain feels conservatively safe
Despite never considering this internal hypothesis
because of patriarchal
dualistic
win/lose capitalistic faith
in not not equivalent potential
for ego/ecosystemic win/wins
Despite respite death through life
ego/eco-recycles
repurposing timeless eternity
of unity
more flexibly equitable
than uniformity
of leftbrain thoughts
against rightbrain feelings.
My daughter is only 10 years young,
but she's studying to learn a foreign tongue.
She makes many friends and loves without fear,
bringing bursts of warmth through the atmosphere.
Sunbeam locks caress her fresh glowing face,
and her lake eyes reflect a gentle grace.
Her smile swings wide like a jumping rope,
circulating kindness and future hope.
She's a star on skates and a babe on a bike.
She plays with makeup and dresses ladylike.
She's great at maintaining an artist's mess.
Her favorite subject at school is recess.
She rules over our hearts as queen of all slime,
and still loves a hug and kiss at bedtime.
Her small fingers strum her ukulele
with a new song, dedicated to me.
She's the kind of girl I would love to be,
with the best genes of my husband and me.
Our recessive traits are a hidden gem.
In her unique presence, she unfolds them.
She's a hybrid of sweet and sassy swirled.
What a pleasure to share her with the world!
My LeftBrain dominant voice
has been almost Either/Or
Win/Lose persuaded
To think accurately,
robustly,
resiliently
requires tuning out RightBrain dissonant feelings
intuitions
flow of conflicting emotions
must not over-rule logical flow of thought,
or effective win/lose communication
will give way to affective lose/lose non-communication
of what is monoculturally significant
useful
valued
healthy
egocentrically wise.
Whereas, my RightBrain recessive integral-spiritual consciousness
prefers transparent flow powers
as more traditionally We-spirited
and immediately health-bound
with bilaterally informed emotive/cognitive resonant wealth.
always adding
10 in 24 or did i
more my family
by rambling yet
another
what did i
find in the recessive
word of
recess
do implore
school begotten
school obsessed
there was always
a time
instead
but they took
following a
different
book that
even my son
glossary or
index or pages
to remind
his mind
NO one
anything profound
no profundetise
or profund
next lets
open
the banned pages
of a book so
grand that
my Father
hoped to stand
a military
man two
tours in
Vietnam
In Taoism
as I have experienced it so far
embracing ancient nature/spirit wisdom
of Yang strong gospel anthems,
ecologically singing in all four seasons of color,
theologically dancing,
psychologically balancing,
biologically dominant and recessive reweaving combinations,
All these invite Sabbath memory
co-arising Holonic YinFlow
BiLaterally multiculturing everyday Sundays
in and from and for now
and forward,
and back into original baptism in
cooperatively shared nutritional economies
emerging from SabbathEve's matriarchal womb,
Interdependently regenerational EarthWomb
(not so much PatriarchalTomb),
cooperatively-managed,
ego-egg and eco-conceivers,
sacred environmental receivers
and givers
of health care Sabbath practice
nurturing WinWin wealthy baby/mom co-insurance.
Or,
having a really bad
toxic
pathological
entropic
degenerative moment,
or day,
or week,
maybe a month or more
of chronic ballistic anxiety
about climate changes uninvited,
internally
and/or externally felt too-pregnant
without reasonable future environmental reassurance.
It's now your turn,
Back never to turn,
So kindly just pack,
To revisit your 'state' there back,
Too late to say sorry,
I don't have to worry,
Because you took me as a trolley,
Any direction you used me to adjust,
Of-wich it was unjust,
Too late to say sorry,
Rather than beeing held captive,
As if to you am possessive,
Part of your 'genetic'material,
I cant withstand the granted action,
Too late to say sorry,
For best i chose the alternative,
Of the respective affair,
To devote for the state of un-affair,
Because 'recessive' was beyond my expectation,
Too late to say sorry,
Clearly it was meant to be,
Good beeing the bye,
In between the 'lines',
Go through the 'content',
Too late to say sorry.
WHITE
~~~~~~~~
A recessive colour... white... dominated by all colours...
There is no black... or white in the human race...
All shades of red... from darkest brown... to pink...
You do the math...
~~~~~~~~~~~
January 14th, 2018
Entered in What is White? - Poetry Contest sponsored by Debbie Guzzi
Warm wind circulates
night's conspiracy of primal option:
Stand up with me!
or Give way!,
let us have this day,
it cannot be your's alone.
We bare too many sickly souls
for soulful mediocrity.
Stand up with me.
Help.
Or, please get out of our healthy way
for this day is ours
to plant and harvest
produce and consume
dance and sing EarTherapy
Consumer mind with productive body
empowering healthy integrity
and authentic in/out-facing normativity
as from polycultural wealthy old
Tao's neuro/geo-systemic
wu-wei re/de-generative
Me/We pole/hole
dominant/recessive
mind/body win/wintegrity
Crown/root yang/yinergy
Peak resilience/valley-resonant co-relational
passion/pleasure
EarthMuseCalling CoOperative.
Once, sweet, unassuming persona so demure
Morphing into arrogant, calculating figure
Dexterous curves dancing like marionette
Now wilting shroud; prancing silhouette
Full, rounded cheeks with rosy shadow
Devolved into sunken crevasses with hue so sallow
Full, lustrous lips distilling frothy, sweet nectar
Transformed into dull, recessive spouts brimming with tar
From twinkling eyes stardust did flow
Now only flittering sawdust doth strew
Your warm, sensual fingers did titillate
Now dry, brittle tendrils do stagnate
Sparkling, coiffed hair with gilded braids
Became disheveled bristles with dulling shades
Soft, entrancing words did enrapture
Now dull, discordant notes obscure
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