POEM: To Be, Sow Fly

Could it possibly be
A cliff hangar
She jumped
In what felt
Like
A free fall
The feint of art
Closing their eyes
Thinking this only is
For the birds
Or perhaps angels
Or butterflies borne by the wind
For life is never a breeze
Fore the heavy
Thinking
Too much
Wait
Never suspect
Beyond
A cruel goad
Only trying
Too flutter me
Amid fleeting heir
In the grip
Of only that
Which can be
Grasped by wings
Feeling confidant
Enough
To be
Sow fly

This poem is about the lightness of heart and soul to take off in life.  This poem is also about the courage needed to let the seemingly ethereal stuff of life lift us up.  Our highest hopes can offer a birds-eye view of what is often a harsh landscape.  A higher perspective can reveal paths and possibilities outside of the realm of those anchored only in concrete reality.  Plus, flying can be real fun and absolutely invigorating.  May you find flight for your dreams and be a beacon for those looking for a way.

POLITICAL CARTOON: CEO Jesus Retirement Plan

CEO Jesus: You Had Me At The Retirement Plan

CEO Jesus Retirement PlanAfter a long hiatus, CEO Jesus is back.  This comic was inspired by a poem I wrote recently:

At Jesus, Inc.
I came for the love and mutuality
I stayed for the retirement plan

This poem and political cartoon is a parody of the often namby-pamby, first-world Christianity that passes for following Jesus these days.  I sometimes joke that I wish there was a religion where the founder was a nonviolent rabble-rouser crucified by the state, perhaps even as their fellow clansmen stood complicit.  That’s a leader to which I could relate.   I occasionally wonder what Christianity would look like if we amped it up so that, say, 1% of Christians were killed as a direct result of their radical love challenging the powers that be of this world.  What if Christians seriously risked destitution or death for the cause of love more commonly than building “secure” retirement plans?  These are the kinds of questions that haunt me and in which I find little traction or resonance within the walls of American Christianity.  Ahhh, for a Church that boldly embraces such questions; this is the Church I long for…

Peruse more political cartoons featuring CEO Jesus, General Jesus, Comedian Jesus, Dr. Jesus, and Palestinian Jew Jesus

POEM: Love Making

I was mistaken
All those years
Those sweetest ours
Thinking I was making love
When in truth
Love was making me

This love poem, as most of my poems, can be read several ways.  Of course, the simplest reading is a testament to the transformative power of romantic relationship love.  Love is more than something that we, as individuals, “make.”  Love is something larger than ourselves that we participate in.  Love makes us better humans, much more so than could be designed by our minds however clever, or imagined by our hearts however large and open.  Certainly, love makes us better than we could ever be outside of human relationships, on our own.

When thinking of poetry, I suspect that thinking of love poems is the most common and iconic.  Love, the mystery of mysteries, is at the heart of poetry, trying to put into words that which can’t quite be put into words.  I have described writing poetry as the heart and mind making love.  The melding of the workings of the heart and mind is a struggle for balance and wholeness that pervades every human endeavor.

Psalm 85:10 describes this as peace and justice kissing.  My intent in writing this poem was also to allude to such a wide theme, that of loving the world in a way that makes the world a better place for all.  Peace and justice kissing is the way this becomes a reality in the world.  Practicing that discipline of love makes us better humans, even if the reciprocity of that love is not immediately evident.  Describing such ventures as love of God — love of Love — is a common spiritual discipline to carry us through the dry patches of of unrequited love on earth.  Such love lives in the hope that the way of love (God’s will) will be “on earth as it is in heaven” (from the Lord’s prayer).  Of course, the demands of justice are trans-generational, perhaps perpetual, requiring a patience and perspective beyond our own life.  We don’t work simply for ourselves, that is if we are working in love and for justice.  It strikes me, sometimes in the face, that love of enemy is the gold standard spiritual practice for melding peace and justice, holding fast to perfecting love, in creating a world where one side fits all.  Every loving act brings us closer to peace and justice, no matter how far off they seem.  Every loving act engenders hope and courage for both the gentle patience and bold courage needed for peace and justice to kiss.  May you find love in every personal relationship, within your community, and in every conception of God you may have.

 

 

POEM: For Awe Inclusive Crews

In this backwards god-eat-god world
In the phase of gratuitous violins
Love surpasses all of the prose
In the ultimate hatch it job
Super seeding awe conceptions
Overrunning all of its boarders
Teeming with those borne agin
Depraving those of what little they halve
Razing hell
Only to make everything
Beyond accost
As be stowing
Such sublime vouchers
For awe inclusive crews
Who take up
The cause

This poem is about the tenaciously subversive workings of love and the sublime benefits of orienting one’s own being and doings with transcendent purposes.  The breakneck, in-your-face cynicism shilled by consumer culture and tribal goading runs roughshod over the deepest and most satisfying harmonies in life.  Actively and collectively working for good in this world may be best centered around these awe-inspiring forces in life that bid us to meet gratuitous violence with gratuitous love.  May love upturn any low impulses that may interfere with boldly welcoming a way of life big enough for awe and small enough to meet every child within.

POEM: Open Adore

Awe
That knocks
Me too
My knees
Shaking
Hands
Earth below
Heaven above
In articulate silence
And still
Hear
I am

Awesomeness is often met through silence and with silence.  There is a power greater than words dare speak.  Experiencing the power of such awesomeness is a bulwark for my highest hopes and that which incarnates most deeply my daily peace and joys.  Awe flows from this.  May such awesomeness visit you and enliven awe that you are.

POEM: The Rein of Hope

A tsunami of hope is coming
Are you preparing such a weigh?
Will you be caught looking
Through shot glasses
Only to be decked out with eyedroppers
For blood shot eyes, those cynical vanes
Ill quipped to see arose
As a master of heavy arts
Uprooted by a juggernaut of serendipity
Leaving ewe to find won self
Oar reel state underwater
In the bust of surf and turf
As well sculpted ideologies
Serve up anchors and chains
In efface of assail boat
Occupying the same
Regardless of weather titanic cap size
Kicking buckets down the road
As if
Awe is to be fathomed
Only too arrive
More than any won dare expected
Even as some specious of large-mouthed perch
Will settle
Just enough
Too fill one’s lunge
In a whirled turned
Upside down
As big fish in a bigger pond
And still
Hope floats
Not even holding water
A parent as sow much hot air
As a cloud to water
The sores of life cleansing
Bound to witness new arisings
From such a gossamer point of you
Not to be governed by stars
Returning only amor
Gentle reign on earth

This poem addresses head on and heart on one of my favorite themes: hope.  Cynicism is easy. Hope is often somewhat more elusive.  Courage, enthusiasm, and an open heart are prerequisites for hope to flourish.  Change is happening awe the time.  Do you see it?  Don’t get caught looking through shot glasses or nurturing any of the many chronic dis-eases characterized buy the hardening of the attitudes.  Love is skulking about working its way into the seemingly hermetically sealed hearts of the ignorant and perversely-incentivized, and when the time is right, love will flood the vacuum in such vacant souls.  Things will suck in anew weigh for those not paying attention in tuition of life as a topsy-turvy whirled writes itself a new future.  Feel free to spice up your life with such advent seasoning…

POEM: Living Between The Pages

He wrote
She read
Studiously massaging
Fact and fiction
And in between
The pages
They lived

This poem addresses both the role that storytelling plays in the narratives of our lives and the need to move beyond fiction to incarnate into our real lives such truths as stories may impart.  Storytelling through literature and theater serves more than mere entertainment.  Storytelling can model character studies, cautionary tales without the real life tragedies, and heroics of all types without constant personal risk.  The emotional catharsis of vicariously experiencing the many and varied lives of others, biographical or mythological, can inform our own exploration of our highest ideals and darkest impulses.  Still, storytelling, even at its best, is no substitute for living.  At some point, we need to author and act out our own narrative on this stage we call earth.  And life has all the complications of live theater — and more!  There are no dress rehearsals for life; this is it.  Life does not offer any assurance of a Hollywood ending, and you can’t read ahead in a script to nuance your motivation.  In life, tragedies are real and heroics are risky.  Of course, such a precarious situation offers a much more spellbinding way of living than recounting even the best “studiously massaged” story.  May you cast yourself into the lead role in your life, and may your story be original and lively enough to bear repeating.

POEM: Won Race

He ran his won race
Not around other men’s tracks
But in open fields
Into sunsets and sunrises
Never looking back
As no one affront
And know time
Where mostly losers must collect
Outside
The whiner’s circle
And still
Fodder time
Will only
Weather win place or show
Every champ yon door
Will not cry out
As sum hoarse race
Only to whinny
But one race
In riding a loan
And won for awe
Jockeying honor
In steed
Bye only crossing
The finish line
In unison
As a singular knows
Tide for thirst

This poem plays with the tensions between the importance of both our inner experience and compass and our collective outer experience.  Self-knowledge and self-awareness are prerequisites for healthy functioning in the world.  Otherwise we will be doomed to project our ignorance and misunderstanding onto others, confounding communication and degrading joint enterprises.  We must know ourselves and trust our inner experience and instincts, if we are to live our own lives.  This recognizes a radical aspect of our own inner subjective experience: that part of our lives is uniquely our own, both in terms of being only indirectly verifiable by others (what’s going on inside) and that our own agency gives us responsibility that cannot be pawned off on others.  To some inescapable degree, we must run our own race.  Recognizing this freedom and responsibility is the key to winning our own race: Not around other men’s tracks/But in open fields/Into sunsets and sunrises.  If we gauge our own lives too much by others’ behavior and the various cascading situations in the world, we risk living lives as mere reaction formations of our environment.  While this is a profoundly sad loss for ourselves, it also robs the world of the gift of another real live actor in the play of life.  Of course, human life is an ensemble role; we share a collective stage and have intertwining stories.  Life is not a horse race, with the inevitable winner and losers — though that may be part of the narrative we act out.  In sharing both a collective stage and the power of each to contribute their own role to the play,  life is pretty much guaranteed to be dramatic, perhaps somewhat chaotic, and hopefully interesting and fun.  Human life begs both individual creative response-ability and a deeply collective attitude and respect for our shared enterprise.  A wise ensemble of actors, recognizing the varied roles of protagonists and antagonists, gladly plays their role, not another’s.  And as passions rise, the story unfolds.  The story is not won by who is present in the last scene, but who are present at awe, wherever they peer.  If there is a larger winning in life, it may very well be the solidarity of comrades sharing passions, but not necessarily playing the same roles: In unison/As a singular knows/Tide for thirst.  As for that horse race: break a leg…

POEM: Fore Awe That Can Be Souled

He lived buy
The law of the jungle
Except for that whole jungle thing
And law
Fore that madder
Welcome too
Living bye
A-morality
A-weigh of living
A-lien from nature
As not giving
One ascent
Fore awe that can be
Souled

The so-called law of the jungle is largely disrespectful of nature and law.  The presumed law of the jungle is typically a rationalization for amoral behavior.  Buying such low living is not becoming to humanity.  Greedy, fear-filled, and violent people swear by the notion of a “dog eat dog” world, even if they have never seen a dog eat a dog.  And if one has witnessed firsthand a dog eat a dog, it is a near certainty that this resulted from the instigation and/or training by a human.  Contrary to popular mythology, the overwhelming majority (95+%) of living beings on this planet live and die without being eaten.  Live and Let Live SPIRITUAL BUTTONLive and let live is a far better characterization of the nature of nature than some arena of death thrust upon us to bedevil us to our untimely end.  So, this poem is about respecting the higher harmonies of nature, including human nature — the nature of the soul, if you will — as we experience the gift of life.  Such higher harmonies lean into the predominant reality of life as a gift rather than a curse.  It is a destructive lie to characterize nature, or our nature, as a taker rather than a giver.  The jungle is a wild and beautiful place, but the awe and wander of its presents inspires its true companions to revel in reverence rather than dreadful competition or wanton violence.  A Savage Is Not The One Who Lives In The Forest, But The One Who Destroys It POLITICAL BUTTONMay you find that the wild places in your life bring you life-affirming inspiration and render you a lousy accomplice to greedy and guarded weighs.

POEM: Boulder Climate Change Strategy

Know madder
What
The body politic wants
Wee are
A given
Political climate change
Fueled agin
Buy dollareds
Hot air
And cheep solutions
Trapped in a net worth
A slew of zeroes
Proffering barren fruit
Taking
Their cut
Wile the snare drum beats
US like lemmings
Lurid over
A bluff leading know where
With the last feather in their icy cap
Plunging a head
At breakneck pace
Their ultimate un-doing
In won weigh or the other
Hung by a tight rope
For good
Snappy necks ‘n dashing suits
In their bald Sisyphean crowing
As gods joke
Boulder for brains

This is another in my unrelenting series of global climate change poems.  Western Civilization Is A Loaded Gun Pointed At The Head Of This Planet -- Terrence McKenna quote POLITICAL BUTTONI mock cowardly politicians beholden to earth-destroying corporate interests, offering only half-ass solutions to what is likely the greatest threat to humanity and the planet this century.  I mix several metaphors simultaneously, but the prime metaphor is of Sisyphus as the symbol of grandiose futility.  Of coarse, the climax of the poem offers Phoenix-like hope as these Sisyphean politicians bash their brains out on the rocks of the reality they so persistently deny and discount.  And for good measure, and a backup plan, they also hung themselves with their own rope, in a tip of the hat to the old Marxist joke that capitalists will sell the rope to the executioner for their own hanging. And for a triumvirate of metaphors to seal their destiny, a bird metaphor (“cheep solutions, “last feather in icy cap,” and “bald Sisyphean crowing”) assures that the brains dashed against the rocks are bird brains as well as boulder for brains.  Be on notice chicken-hearted and bird-brained politicians, there is no escaping the carnage of my poetry!  Of course, I hope to embolden planetary citizens to take bolder action to relieve such politicians of any authority or power over the fate of our Mother Earth.  Man is a part of nature, and his war against nature is inevitably a war against himself --Rachel Carson quote POLITICAL BUTTONMay the people of planet earth rise up and create a sustainable destiny for humanity that fully respects the deep harmonies of nature.