POEM: Personal Boundaries

Sometimes I have trouble telling where I end and you begin
No, wait, that’s you!

This funny little poem plays with the confusion inherent in having fuzzy personal boundaries.  Codependency is a very popular topic these days.  Sorting out what is your own business versus what is somebody else’s business can be a very difficult task.  Fortunately, we live in the world of interdependence.  So, I suppose that sorting out oneself from others would naturally present some difficulty.  I cannot claim any great wisdom in regards to that fuzzy line between what is one’s own business and what is somebody else’s business.  However, I think I’ve stumbled upon a fairly good cheat.  If I focus on who I am and who I want to be, this seems to be a full-time job, leaving little time for messing around with other people’s business.  Self-awareness and self-discovery is a lot of work.  However, if we were able to achieve a decent level of self-awareness, then what do we bring into our relationships with other people becomes much clearer.  Of course, it also helps a lot, if the other people that we are in relationship with know who they are and who they want to be as well.  In the end, this probably boils down to the simple reality that minding other people’s business is just a roundabout way of avoiding dealing with what is truly our own business.  Somehow, it seems so much more fun and/or easier to diagnose and fix other people’s problems!  Unfortunately, I am the only one that can truly take care of my business, and if I don’t do it, then I can’t blame anybody else.  Of course, if I just stick to blaming everybody else, I don’t have to deal with my own stuff.  Is this just me, or is that you?!

POEM: Running Like Chickens With Their Heads Cut Off

POEM: Running Like Chickens With Their Heads Cut Off

Have you ever looked a chicken in the eyes?
Most of us city folk probably never have
Where are you?
Chickens can look quite different in the city
Just the same
Their bodies run around
Like death will catch up with them if they slow down
Their heads flit about
Ensnared by nothing at all
Abiding mirror fax of life
Who has got one’s back?
Missing only you, won’s greatest faux
Possessed by a vacancy
That will soon enough be dismissed
Wading for something more
Unable to see what’s beneath their own feat
Where we are grounded
Still, six feet is better than two
When it’s not yours!
As if one May fly!
To live but for one day
Today
Even four proves oddly better
Fore what can thou dust do, in turn?
Don’t you see?!
Chickens re-member!?
They are almost everywhere
Though they are practically invisible where I live
So I am bound to run into more than a few
Even more so if you cross to the other side
Just, please, don’t bother asking me why
I must
Have chickens
Incite me
To a whirl
Without
Chickens
Running about
With their heads
Just being
Cut off
Like trafficking enflesh

I wrote this poem a while back, but thought that it might be a good poem for the month of May, given the reference to the short-lived May fly.  Nonetheless, this poem fits on a long-standing theme, particularly for those living in Western civilization, of busyness and not being present in the moment. Like many of my poems, you may have to read it several times, because it involves a lot of puns and multiple meanings depending on how you read various phrases.  It’s difficult for me to comment on longer poems, because I end up commenting way, way longer than the poem itself.  Sometimes I like to leave the poems to speak for themselves.  Still, I think it’s probably comment on one strain in this poem.  The phrase: Still, six feet is better than two is a reference to being buried 6 feet underground and a reference to a chicken with its head cut off lying on the ground looking at the 6 feet of three other chickens and taking some small comfort that it is not their two feet that they see in their last moment of life.  Also, this is an allusion to the apparent ease at which we will trade other people’s lives for our own.  If you find this somewhat morbid, then take some comfort in the line: Even four proves oddly better.  In our fixation on the quantitative in our culture, it might seem odd that four is actually better than six.  However, the four refers to two sets of feet and a pair of chickens or people.  This refers to the comfort that we find in companionship with one another.  This value of companionship strikes a sharp contrast to the hurried busyness that tramples our presence of any given moment, and rushes by authentic relationships with others.  In this crazy world, which may seem dangerous and short at times, especially if you are chicken, companionship and solidarity may prove to be the reason or purpose in our lives.  I guess the message is: pay attention to the people around you.  Oh yeah, you may want to pay attention to the chickens around you as well.

POEM: Free Will Compelling

I find the experience of free will very compelling.

I like this simple one line poem because it juxtaposes two seeming opposites.  Free will is often viewed as some kind of absolute.  Compulsion is on the other end of the spectrum, except that we also typically view it as some kind of absolute, that which one has no choice about.  Of course, this reminds me of perhaps the only quote I can recall from the complex, sophisticated and difficult-to-read author and philosopher, John Paul Sartre: “We are condemned to be free.”  I view neither free will nor compulsion as absolute.  Free will always has limits, and the very existence of free will and human beings bring some freedom to any situation no matter how compulsory we view it.  However, let’s get back to the poem.  What I mean by finding the experience of free will very compelling, is that it is predictably surprising how free we are, meaning that we always have a choice in any situation.  By exercising our free will, our awareness of this essential and irreducible freedom can grow.  We are faced with an infinite number of choices at any given moment.  If you don’t believe this, you may have just flunked the first question of a creativity test.  The reason I like Jean-Paul Sartre’s quote so much is that it also juxtaposes two apparent opposites.  Being condemned, or forced, to be free.  Of course, this is what drives John Paul Sartre into an existential frenzy, being unable to pin down any ground of our being, or God, he is left with a conundrum of being condemned by some unknown or unknowable reality, yet mystically or coincidentally, he happens to experience the good fortune of gaining freedom within this reality.  In fact, freedom can be viewed as a nuisance, in that facing that infinite number of choices at any given moment, and seeming to have no ultimate basis for making any particular choice, leaves us to our own subjective devices.  I actually find it kind of funny and ironic that Sartre felt so compelled to find the determinants (sic) of free will.  Of course, I’m teasing him a bit.  More fairly, he did groundbreaking work in epistemology, the study of the limits of human knowledge.  Quite obviously, one cannot find the determinants of free will.  However, one may be able to map out certain boundaries to where and how free will operates.  Since he won the Nobel prize for literature, I’ll assume that is genius exceeds mine in this respect, or perhaps, no one could understand what he was saying and thought that giving him a prize might be appropriate to not appear stupid.  In my own experiments with free will, I feel compelled to experiment more — to exercise my free will more and more.  This seems to be more practical than writing a 300+ page book about the structures of consciousness.  But that’s just my choice…

POEM: Metaphors be with you

Metaphors be with you

This simple one line poem which is only four words is a takeoff on the Star Wars saying, may the force be with you.  Is it any surprise that one of these four words is a pun?  Of course, I love metaphors way more than Star Wars, which I enjoy quite a bit.  I love metaphors because they can hit you right in the face with an apparent literal meaning while simultaneously launch a much grander and ephemeral meaning.  I suppose that literalists are confused by metaphors.  However, I might note that literalists are confusion.  This poem is also a simple blessing that the metaphor rich reality in which we live is ever accessible to you.  Like another poem of mine, everything else reminds me of everything else.  Rather than a reality that is barren of meaning, reality is so robust with meaning that it nearly busts out everywhere.  So, metaphors be with you!

POEM: Near Life Experience

I once had a near-life experience
but that’s another story

I like this funny two-line poem because it turns around the mysterious fascination with near-death experiences.  This poem implies that near-life experiences may actually be the uncommon experience.  This is driven home even further in an ironic fashion by not even bothering to tell you about the experience but simply referencing it as just another story to tell.

POEM: Protesting Pet Peeves

I would protest against my pet peeves
Except, I’m not sure that “Honk if you want to end noise pollution”
Would work out so well

I like this funny little poem because it teases at the natural limits of something like protesting.  Many people consider me a big-time protesters.  Perhaps fewer people recognize that noise pollution is one of my major pet peeves.  I love the sign that protesters have that say “Honk for peace” or the like.  This is a great way to invite others to get involved in making a public statement about something very important.  However, when you put these two things together: a honky protest and a desire to end noise pollution, the incongruity becomes comical.  Life is funny!  Thank God!  Sometimes we just have to live into the mystery and find things laugh-worthy along the way, especially when dealing with serious or difficult issues.  At some moments in life, it may not be possible to have both peace and quiet; it may be a choice of peace or quiet.

LOVE POEM: Stolen Glances

I have a confession to make
I’ve stolen so many glances of you
And just us demands
That I stare into your eyes
Until further notice

This love poem is dedicated to my sweetheart, Maryjo.  Fortunately, when only the two of us are involved, the eyes have it!  May it be the same for you and your sweetheart…

POEM: Flowers Cut

I set before you these flowers
For your reflection and edification
These flowers were cut from my yard
A yard not unlike the two yards that will cover us all some day
Some may say that cutting short the lives of these flowers is wrong
But what do I say to this?
That the greater danger is cutting our own lives short
For it is much easier to harm ourselves than to harm another
Unlike most flowers and most of nature
This flower lives in the city
Most flowers and most of nature
Are as beautiful as they are unseen by human eyes
But these flowers, these city flowers
Go largely unseen, even as so largely present
People pass by, out of their minds
Racing to that whose beauty cannot compare
Neither flowers nor nature require our attention
But, ahhhh, the beauty is all sufficient
So, if I have cut short the life of these city flowers
By some few days such is life
Pardon my offense
And help me repay such expense
With such beauty they briefly impart
Not unlike this poem
Which from the mind will soon depart
Let such beauty replenish the beauty of your heart
And prepare you for every worthy start

The beginnings of this poem struck while I was taking a walk late yesterday afternoon.  I was to go to an Occupy Toledo General Assembly meeting early that evening, and I decided to take some cut flowers from my yard.  I love it when the muse strikes!  It is a glorious curse of the poet to pay homage to the moment when inspiration strikes.  Having a life where I’m able to do this brings me incalculable joy.  Some may say that I have too much time on my hands, but I certainly don’t have a watch on my wrist, or a cell phone in my pocket.  Anyway, to the calculating chronologist, we all have the same 24 hours each day.  Poets know better, I say in all humility, or rather awe.  While many of us live a similar amount of time, in terms of times our heart is beating and there are waves in our brain, there are simple and great differences in how well we live that time.  I am partial to the blessing given by the late Will Rogers in saying, “May you live all the days of your life.”

POEM: Feminists Know Something

As a man
One day I wondered
How come there are so few
Women politicians
Women economists
Women lawyers
Then it occurred to me
Maybe they know something we don’t

The quest to understand the difference between men and women has probably been around as long as there have been men and women.  This feminist poem seeks to stimulate reflection around the issue of self-selection of a career or vocation.  While there are certainly barriers to women entering, succeeding or advancing in certain male-dominated careers or vocations, there are definitely self-selection factors based on gender.  In this poem, I choose the specific fields of politics, economics, and law for reflection.  These fields are dominated by men.  However, I suspect that much of the reason women are not attracted, or dare I say engendered, to these fields is because of both the nature of these fields and the way these fields have been shaped (or distorted) by a male point of view.  As a man and a feminist, I try to understand and value women’s experiences, ways of being, and points of view.  Of course, men’s experiences, ways of being, and points of view, are transmitted more easily in our society due to men’s dominant role and control over many structures and processes in our society.  Given these realities, we should all be feminists, seeking to strike a more healthy balance between the genders.  This requires that we all pay more attention to what women know; and by knowing I mean much more than simply intellectual content but the whole range of experiences, ways of being, and points of view.  And by all means, I don’t relegate the field of “doing” to men, given the fact that women do most of the work in the world.  Simple curiosity demands that men especially seek insight into what women know that men may not.  Of course, being counter-cultural, this takes work, and for some reason women either seem more willing to take on work, or just experience ending up doing more of it..  Either way, we should all pay more attention to these differences.

POEM: The Human Race Is Not Well Done

The human race
Is
Not
Well
Done

I like the short poem because in seven words in five lines it can be read several different ways.  The human race can be seen both as a species and as an actual race, such as a foot race or a rat race.  Whether or not this race, either way you take it, is done well or, well, done is an open question.  You can meditate on that one for yourself, and for others if you like…

POEM: Everything Reminds Me of Everything Else

Everything reminds me of everything else.

This one-line poem is a quick way to get into my mind and how it works.  I probably love metaphors as much as I do puns.  This short poem cuts to the chase, so you don’t really have to deal with all those messy details.  My thinking and belief is rooted in the idea that everything is connected.  Thus, if one is paying close attention, then everything and anything that you see, think, hear, or feel, can be traced back to everything else by some undisclosed number of degrees of separation.  Poetry is just playing with all of these connections and associations.  Metaphors are just representations of the next level of connections and associations that recognize that everything is connected.  People who are not poets may consider such things eminently impractical.  However, consider this:  if everything reminds me of everything else, then I don’t need Post-it notes.  Who says the mind of a poet isn’t practical?

POEM: Wrong Ballpark

Being in the wrong ballpark is a mere scheduling error
Maybe I need a game changer

This simple two-line poem is meant to challenge the reader regarding both the size and nature of change that may be needed to change one’s life, to better one’s life.  Being in the wrong ballpark is a generally recognized phrase for being in the wrong place to accomplish what you want to accomplish.  This poem plants the idea that being in the wrong ballpark may be merely a scheduling error, a matter of timing.  Of course, timing is often said to be everything, and a timing error or scheduling error itself can be fatal to one’s enterprise.  However, in combination with the second line of the poem, the nature of the error committed and the change needed to correct such an error is put forth as potentially a mere distraction.  Even the second line, maybe I need a game changer, has a double meaning and is more than what it first appears.  The typical usage of the phrase game changer refers to a significant event that changes the course of the game.  However, the second and intended meaning of this phrase refers to changing the game itself, not merely playing the current game better.  Self-help gurus and inspirational speakers like to talk about paradigm shifts.  The reality of needing a paradigm shift hits home when one finds oneself doing the same thing over and over again and getting the same results (which many define as insanity).  This usually doesn’t happen all at once, and the incremental nature of getting progressively diminishing returns on one’s investment in an enterprise often leads one with the illusion that if one just works harder, or perhaps even smarter, that one can change the nature of the unsatisfactory results one is getting.  Thus, it is often not immediately clear when changing the game itself is needed, when a paradigm shift is needed.  The image that comes to mind is a frog in a pot of heating water.  If a frog were thrown in a pot of boiling water it would immediately jump out.  But, if a frog is placed in a pot of cool water that is slowly heated, the frog will adapt to its changing conditions and desensitize itself to its impending demise, being cooked alive.  Do you have something in your life that gives you a warm satisfaction, perhaps even because you have adapted so well to changing and difficult circumstances, but you are seeing red flags of some impending doom?  If so, you may want to ponder changing the game.  Go ahead, hop to it!  Saunas can be nice for limited times but knowing when a change of venue is needed can be life saving.

POEM: Arguing with Atheists

Arguing with atheists is like panning for gold in a bathtub.

This one line poem is certainly provocative, and probably dangerous.  First I would like to concede that I cannot prove that God exists.  Secondly, and equally, I don’t think that is a proper understanding of reality to conclude that God cannot exist.  Thus the chasm between theists and atheists.  Actually, the term “God” is so loaded for people I would like to suggest a different tack.  I think the issue boils down to an argument between subjectivity and objectivity.  I find that the predominant view of atheists that I have met or read about seem to take an objectivist view, what I would call scientific reductionism.  While this view can be very helpful for understanding part of reality, it specifically rules out any subjective reality.  While this seems eminently reasonable to most modern people of a scientific bent, it ignores the most basic experience of human life: that humans are subjects, subjective.  If folks would argue that people are not subjects or subjective, then we don’t have much to talk about, and perhaps all that we do have to talk about has been predetermined in the infinite cascade of objective cause-and-effect.  The philosophy or arguments that preclude or exclude subjects or subjectivity destroys both humans and God in a single stroke.  Now, while it seems quite easy in terms of simplicity or Occam’s razor, to just eliminate God, the “Subject”, from the equation, eliminating oneself and all other subjects seems much more dangerous, even foolish.  I can probably appreciate absurdity as much of the next person, probably more.  However, scientific reductionism comes to a nice clean and neat end when it reaches absurdity, which perhaps ironically, it inevitably does.  It can go no further.  I wish to go further.  This requires uncertainty, even absurdity.  However, I think that this is where the gold is found.  Panning for gold can be a long and tedious process, and it may not even pay off for many, maybe even most.  Nonetheless, such gold cannot be found in a bathtub, the proverbial scientific reductionist billiard ball world.

One last note, on the concept of arguing.  Arguing is often seen as an intellectual exercise.  Unfortunately, the intellect has its limits, and there are places for which it is not an adequate instrument to explore.  These are the matters of the heart, of subjectivity, of life itself, which cannot be reduced to a machine, at least not with the unintended consequences of killing life.  Residing in the heart, centering our experience around the heart, living a wholehearted life, is a way existential enterprise.  There is meaning, and we discover that meaning through our subjective faculties.  I must surpass or transcends mere intellect.  I must literally vote with my life, my life force, the subjectivity that is mine.  Ultimately, talking about or arguing about things is inadequate.  What we do matters.  How we live our life matters.  Ultimately, our life is our message.  If someone else’s life seems argumentative with our own message, then so be it.  A certain amount of conflict and absurdity is necessary in life.  I don’t think many would argue with that.  Though feel free to pan my views…

POEM: Subconscious Not What You Think

Don’t bother pondering the subconscious
It’s not what you think

This funny poem is a reminder that much of what is life is not directly accessible by us.  Most of what goes on in our bodies is outside of our consciousness and cannot be put under direct control of our will.  This is a good thing!  Otherwise, we would have to spend all of our time trying to digest our food along with a million other bodily processes that happen without the benefit of our puny consciousnesses.  Further, even the state of our mind is largely outside the realm of consciousness.  It takes a lifetime of attention and reflection to get a decent grasp on our own mind , and how it is affected by our own emotions and external conditions and situations.  Western civilization is obsessed with control.  The idea that we are not in control of all the things let alone most of the things in our life can be maddening for many people.  Reflecting on this lack of control is not an exercise in futility, but gets to the heart of wisdom, that there are larger forces at work in our lives, and even in our life force or spirit itself.  Learning to recognize those areas of our life that we don’t have any control over is just as important as recognizing those areas of our life that we do have control over.  Courage applied to beating your head against the wall is foolishness.  Not being grateful for all the good things in our life that we didn’t bring about, well, seems ungrateful.  We stand on the shoulders of others, and we are steeped in a good creation that God gave us.  Back to consciousness!  It is commonplace to reduce consciousness to intellect.  This is a mistake of the highest order.  For instance, the reality that we need to muster courage in order to deal with the things that we can totally transcends the mere concept and workings of intellect.  Wherever courage comes from, it strikes me that it is a much deeper place than just logic or mental analysis.  Much of these above sentiments are captured in the serenity prayer: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.  Amen!

POEM: WELCOME To The Corporate Person Hood

WELCOME To The Corporate Person Hood!

Abolish Corporate Personhood POEM: Personal BoundariesTheirs an outside chance
Say 1%
Facing such a ghostly figure
That passes over
What sum
Say billions
Who could passably planet that way!
Ether way
The Almighty Logos
Taken it
To the Greek
Drug through history and currency
Only to Rustle a new Brand®
This is not where democracy comes from!
Where livestock and dead stock are just the same
Like making a buck that is deer to no one
They get it all
Backwards
As they are
Dyslexics
Every won of them
Amiss take
Immorality for immortality
And in morality plays
Where the real masses
Cry out
Author!  Author!
Only to fine themselves
Taxed
For a library of legal fictions
Worthless signatures
On countless dotted lyins
Part of the lessen plan
Buying and selling naming rights
With naught even a real bastard for the lineup
Only edifice complexes
From mother corporations
And fatherless spawn
Unendingly descendent
Fostering your loco shop lifter
As a parent
Such up-rearing is
Unconscionable
Never reaching scion
The promised
Land
A job
Putting on heirs
Like PR
Not even
Real state
Only wanting
Cold blooded lizards with personalities
To assure us
Real people need not apply
When animation pawns itself off
As real life syndication
When incorporeal “persons”
Claim the hood
More like a ski mask!
Robber barrens
Steal magnates
Attracting lowlifes
And burgle kings
Rifling through any goods
Is its dealing
Like some pharmaceutical pillage
Hearing only its own
Plunderous applause
The racket here
The William E. club (that’s Bully to you!)
Breaking a-head
Forging new bonds
Sharing penitentiaries only for prophet see
Conjuring con jobs
Open to all takers
Never no-ing an inside job
Sincere sinecures for counterfeiters
Who mint to say
Money speaks
So those without
Must shut the buck up
And weather a safe cracker in a penthouse
Or a black mailer selling us some interest
Re-morsel-ess tie-coons
Doing
Whatever
It takes
Getting busy-ness
Producing nothing
Yet reproducing!
Grafting itself
To any stock to be had
With no judgment
It Chases any merger
Acquiring any firm it may manage
With holding company
Only hoping its too big too fail
And to not get caught in the pokey
After a wile
Breaking up
Because its not hard to do
And its back up plan
Is too slinky down the back stairs
Making that booty
Quiet an undertaking
No witnesses
No hi Jack
Know Union Jack
Heisting the flag as cover
Left with just a big stick up
Jolly Roger that
Scoring more than a little snatch
Going where no man has gone before
The S.S. Enterprise
If it’s good for US, they banned it
Wee the people
Of the corporations
Buy the corporations
Fore the corporations
Their constitution
Is paper thin
Yet thick as thieves
They no no flesh
In bored rooms
Where they can’t be too rich or too thin!
Their currency (mostly DC) is rarefied
In corporation papers
Well suited
For what
They do do
Leaving US the tissue
Yet raising the stakes on these fly-by-knighted vampires
Is never enough
Thou dust never see them!
Merrily
In an Antoinettesque turn of a phrase
They take the cake
As we end up eating it
For seeing
The preoccupation
of Wall Street
Money
Verses
CITIZENS UNITED

I wrote this poem yesterday.  The first notions struck me before dawn.  I turned on the light and I sat up in my bed to jot down some ideas.  By the end of the day, the poem was finished.  YES, I may have too much time on my hands.  But, like they say, I may be underemployed but I have an OCCUPATION!  Long live Occupy Wall Street!

This poem is dedicated to all of the Wall Street occupiers and all of those dedicated to abolishing corporate personhood and money as free (sic) speech.

I usually comment on my shorter poems.  However, this poem is 145 lines,  just exceeding that which is gross (144, or corporate personhood, or money that speaks, if you are into metaphors).  To comment on this poem would take me most of another day, and like money, I will let this poem speak for itself!

Download a printable version of POEM: Welcome To The Corporate Person Hood!

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POEM: Actual Pie vs. Pi

Actual pie is way more than 3.14159 times better than mathematical pi.

This simple one line poem makes fun of Western civilization’s fixation on the quantitative versus qualitative.  It is big business to reduce everything to a number, preferably dollars if you can!  Of course, actual pie is quite enjoyable, whether it is apple pie, cherry pie, blueberry pie, raspberry pie, rhubarb pie, coconut cream pie, pumpkin pie, banana cream pie, key lime pie, blackberry pie, elderberry pie, cranberry pie, chocolate cream pie, peach pie, gooseberry pie, huckleberry pie, or lemon meringue pie; you take your pick!.  While there is definitely a quantitative nature to this long list of great pies, mathematical pi cannot compare.  Using the term way more is a device that can connote both a qualitative and quantitative sense to it.  In contrast to the 3.14159 of mathematical pi, the precision of mathematical pi seems quite ridiculous.  Some may argue that the unique nature of mathematical pi has a certain beauty to it.  I wouldn’t disagree.  Nonetheless, it’s their incomparability that I am comparing.  One of the interesting things about mathematical pi is that it never ends, its digits past the decimal place continue forever and ever.  Still, this holds nothing on actual pie which comes to an eventual end, probably gracefully, hopefully gracefully!  But alas, if you really must have it all, and you are quite the daredevil, you may have actual pie while simultaneously meditating upon mathematical pi.  Unfortunately, this falls into yet another trap of Western civilization: the illusion of multitasking.  We can really only focus on one thing at a time.  To alternate our focus back and forth between one thing and another can certainly be done but it almost as certainly alternately robs the experience of each thing focused upon.  An exception to this might be pie a la mode.

POEM: In God We Trust? Money Speaks!

In God we trust?

A graven image

We never leave home without

Good

For all debts, public and private

When miss taking goods for good

The most note worthy tender legal

By George, Abe, Alex, Andy, Ulysses, and Ben

Close impersonal friends

Treasuring some denominations more than others

Speaking for itself

Silencing those without

Trust

In God

Wee

It is hard to imagine anything much more ironic than engraving on our money, “In God we trust.”  In a so-called Judeo-Christian nation, the irony is even much deeper.  Jesus tells us that “No servant can serve two masters.  Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.  You cannot serve both God and Money.” (Luke 16:13, NIV)  Perhaps, the intent of engraving, “In God we trust”, on our money is to remind us that we are supposed to trust God rather than money.  However, this also just seems to play into the irony.  Of course, this irony has reached the point of the surreal in recent times in the United States, with the US Supreme Court declaring that money is free speech and corporations are persons entitled to rights formerly reserved for human beings.  God has created human beings, and human beings have apparently created some other form of persons.  In Wall Street speak it would be some form of human derivative.  Wall Street is a modern-day Golden calf, creating idolatrous graven images.  The reason such activities are considered idolatrous is because it violates the natural order of things.  Humans are to serve God and one another.  Corporations are legal fictions created to serve humans, a man-made technology or tool to be subservient to human needs.  Corporate personhood is a derivative of the modern-day Golden calf, the worship of Wall Street, its so-called best and brightest, and, in the end, the worship of money.  Money is a tool.  People who worship money become tools, dehumanizing themselves and others.  Wall Street brings us to a very sad state:  we put a precise price on everything, yet lose our ability to value anything other than the almighty buck — deer me!  We must not get caught staring into the bright headlights of unrestrained capitalism and its well funded propaganda trying to convince us that we are helpless against the idolatrous idea that serving money is inevitable and that we cannot do better.  It strikes me that living in this surreal and cynical situation requires that real people speak out freely against this dangerous fiction of corporate personhood and money as free speech.  Otherwise, corporations will rule us rather than the other way around, and money, concentrated in the hands of a few, will drown out the true speech of the people and we will be robbed of our democracy.  This is all just a fancy legalistic way of the richer telling the poorer to shut up.  What say you?

POEM: If You Don’t Know What You Want

If you don’t know what you want from life

You are quite likely to get it

This two-line poem deals with a basic theme of life: discovering what you want from life.  Of course, the starting place for this is not knowing what you want from life.  This is a universal experience.  Nonetheless, if you continue in life not knowing what you want from life, you will probably end up where you are headed.  Worse yet, if you don’t even know where you are headed, then you certainly cannot know where you are likely to end up.  The second line is the real twist that can be taken several ways.  First, what you are quite likely to get is not knowing.  Second, you’ll end up where you’re headed, which can be problematic if you don’t want to continue in that same direction or if you don’t even know which way you’re headed.  Third, and my favorite, is that life will bestow upon you a measure of grace and you may actually get what you want from life not even necessarily knowing what that is.  This is an axiom of one of my favorite personal sayings that God never gives me what I want, God always gives me something better.  This is the type of metaphysical optimism that I am prone to meditate upon.  While this is not an argument for not spending time and effort discovering what you want from life, it is a recognition that our ability to fully see what is good for us is limited, and God’s grace can play key role in self-discovery and interacting with the universe.  Surprises can be scary.  Surprises can also be full of grace.  One of the things I want from life is to be open to the graceful possibilities and surprises that transcends my finite mind and my veiled heart.  May you experience abundant surprises full of grace.

POEM: Morning Prayer, Waking Up

I say a prayer of thanks every morning I wake up

Except about the whole having-to-wake-up thing

This is a simple one of my short poems.  The first line of the poem strikes a very traditional chord, dealing with morning prayer and thanks.  Of course, the every morning I wake up can be taken two ways.  It can be taken as a wordy way of saying every morning.  Or, it can be taken as a reference to giving thanks for those mornings that you wake up as opposed to not waking up.  Combining these two potential interpretations contrasts what may be a mundane routine of morning prayer with the profound gratitude of being alive at all.  Then, not surprisingly, as is given my style, the second line of the poem is a reversal or a contrast with the first line.  The profound importance of a morning prayer of thanks for being alive is contrasted with the mundane and often unwelcome chore of having to get up out of bed, which of course, requires waking up.  I recognize this conundrum mostly from past experience, as my present life is of a leisurely pace and structure that typically does not require me to force myself to get up at a particular time, which my mind and body might deem arbitrary and unwelcome.  I have largely solved this conundrum that is commonplace in our culture of busyness and structured time.  For this I’m extremely grateful.  I get a double dose of gratitude by getting the wonderful opportunity to wake up in the morning and to take little time to appreciate that by not having to worry or be pressed by having to get out of bed.  In fact, calling this a double dose may be short-changing the reality of the synergy of graces of getting to wake up and not having to get out of bed right away juxtaposed to one another.  I highly recommend it!

POEM: Getting Your Ducks in a Row

I once put all my ducks in a row
Only then realizing
What am I doing with all these ducks?!

Getting one’s ducks in a row is an idiom or metaphor that most people are familiar with, meaning that we should get our business in order.  The twist in this poem is a reversal of the typical order that my poetry takes.  In this short poem, I take a common phrase that is not intended to be taken literally, and then take it literally.  Predictably, this leads to absurdity, and the ensuing absurd question of what am I doing with all of these ducks.  Of course, the absurd question is actually a question intended to jar one into a realization that getting one’s business in order is not always the most important thing in the world, though it often seems so.

Perhaps ironically, the pervasive idea of getting one’s ducks in a row, getting one’s business in order, can be a stagnant or deadening proposition that actually kills a higher order in our lives.  Life is messy.  Like John Lennon said, “Life is what happens when we’re busy doing other things.”

The question here is not whether one is for order or against order.  The question here is one for a higher order or a lower order.  Increasingly, my experiences in life lead me to believe that one of the most fundamental issues is achieving some clarity about following a higher order over a lower order.  Again, this does not negate the value of lower order stuff, it simply puts it in its proper place, puts it in its proper perspective.  Given that lower order stuff is typically more clear, concrete, and easy to see, it is little surprise that we give an inordinate focus to such things – they capture our attention (and us).  After experiencing many dis-orders in my life, I have come to the realization that the best way to reorder my life around those things which are most important, those higher order things, is to practice simplicity.  What I mean by this is that I need to be aware of those relatively few things in life that are most important to me.  Combined with an actual commitment to these things, then I can use these few important things to better order the many lower things.  More simply put, the higher should lower the order, and a few more important things should order the many less important things.

Another major reason that I see lesser things getting a disproportionate amount of attention versus greater things, is a common confusion regarding what is urgent versus what is important.  Our culture value busyness.  Busyness is seen as an indicator of productivity.  Also, busyness is a way to avoid being seen as engaging in a cardinal sin of our culture, which is laziness.  I think this confusion leads to a systematic bias that often runs over truly important things in our lives.  Given the attachment to busyness, busyness actually becomes a surrogate for urgency.  Thus, the confusion between urgency and importance.

Now, actually, there are many things in life that are both urgent and important.  These are the most important things to which we should attend.  However, there are many, many things that seem urgent that are not really that important.  Likewise, there are many things that are very important but do not seem very urgent.  I believe it is in these very important things that do not seem very urgent that we get lost.  The Achilles heel here is that attention to these most important things that don’t seem very urgent, requires a more relaxed perspective, a broader perspective in relation to time.  Most great things in life require a substantial investment of time.  Also, most things worthwhile require some effort on our part.  But let me deal first with the time issue (the most important thing here).  This gets back to the laziness issue.  Our culture reinforces the notion that relaxing our views about urgency is somehow lazy.  If you are not dealing with the commonly accepted stuff that is seen is urgent, then you are viewed as lazy.  This is not necessarily true.  Now, while truly lazy people don’t deal with what’s in front of them, whether it is urgent or not, important or not, to deal with the important but not urgent things requires some way of being that is neither characterized by mere busyness nor laziness.  This is the difficult counter-cultural work of dealing with the most important and often most overlooked stuff in our lives.  It takes a great amount of discipline and work to slough off the avalanche of seemingly urgent stuff in our life in order to attend to the most important things.  In fact, it is this lack of developing such discipline and boundary setting that is the more important and urgent form of laziness to address.

Laziness is definitely an issue.  This gets back to the issue that most things worthwhile in our life require effort on our part.  Being fully human requires a lot of effort.  This reality requires that we overcome a certain lazy inertia in our lives.  The status quo, the way things are, has a certain stability, momentum and inertia to it.

If we keep going the direction we are headed in, we will probably end up where we are going.  However, equally true, the past is the best predictor of the future, but if you use the past to predict the future, you will always be wrong.  Or more eloquently put, by Yogi Berra, “Prediction is very hard, especially when about the future.”  This is because people are not billiard balls.  People are not simply determined being.  People possess freedom.  People are subjects, not objects.  Certainly, as long as people are involved, predicting the future with complete accuracy will be impossible (actually, this is true for so-called “things” as well; this involves a discussion of the inherent probabilities necessary to understand quantum physics, which I will gracefully save for another day).  This is the way it’s supposed to be.  This is not chaos; this is simply uncertainty.  This is the way the universe is ordered.  This is a higher order, not to be subjected to a lower order.  This takes us full circle, back to our zealous clinging to stuff that is more concrete, seemingly certain.  Our felt need to substitute certainty for uncertainty plays neatly into the hands of confusing the urgent and the important.  Life is uncertain.  If life were not uncertain, it would not be life.  If life were not uncertain, then life would simply be a quest of learning everything and then being ordered (notice the use of the passive voice, and the same language that we reject often from the bosses in our lives) by the ultimately determinable (that which can be reduced to certainty).  This would inescapably lead us to our endgame of being all-knowing and totally impotent (not free).  If this strikes you as a concept of God that is rejected by the vast majority of humanity on this planet, then you must be paying attention.  This so-called God that so many people legitimately reject, is not God, but the vain and enslaving-ourselves project of trying to be God ourselves.  Neither can God be reduced to simply “everything.”  God is more than “everything.”  This concept arises out of the paradox of subjectivity and objectivity, the difference between subject and object.  In this case, the difference between people and things, and between God and “everything.”  I hope that I’m not getting too far off course by getting straight to the heart of the matter.  If you want some additional commentary on these matters, and subjects, I would suggest browsing scientific reductionism.

So, now that I have put all of my ducks in order, I can get beyond the whole “duck” thing. In the end, for all this to work well, this means having our lives ordered in a way that is consistent with what we consider to be the most important, then we must actually know what is the most important stuff in our lives.  Do you know what the most important things in your life are?  If so, I would suggest that you make a list of such things, and while doing this may be of the utmost importance, I would recommend that you take your time to get it right.

Now, if you really want to blow your mind, and perhaps blow the lid off your heart, I recommend meditating upon this poem from the Sufi poet Rumi:

A good gauge of spiritual health is to write down
the three things you want most.
If they in any way differ
you are in trouble.