POEM: The Yeast Of These

Wile there is much bred
Daily preyed for
Ample for concerned
That seemingly still
Fomenting swell times
A mist repleting agin and agin
In dubitable motifs
Giving ascent to
That for most ingredient
A telling signature of homme
The yeast of these
Which will provide
That effervescent up
Rising
Without flail
Soully as flower and water
Well grounded
Flourishing in a rest
And taking the heat
Toward its full realization
Satiating more than just us
And peace meal gain

This poem is about hope springing eternal, utilizing the metaphor of yeast responsible for the rising of bread.  Hope often strikes me as a grounded firmly in both necessity and .  The that hope is comprised of the stuff that makes for a juggernaut gives me profound comfort.  This fuels a much more joyful social activism. The subtle and permeating workings of hope inspire the artist in me.

The metaphor of yeast rising, the smallest portion of the bread — the yeast of these — responsible for the very nature of a successful outcome, speaks to the infective and catalytic role that hope plays in social transformation, in social uprisings giving results often surprisingly larger than the sum of the mere parts.  That the uplifting power of yeast is invisible to the eye is far from insignificant.  Even the penetrating scientific will likely lead to a disgust to our human sensibilities: the gas released by yeast that expands to rise the dough is the waste product of microbial fermentation, yeast farts if you will. To add insult to injury to some, the pockets of dough that successfully capture these farts so well is attributable to the much demonized foodstuff called gluten — be afraid, very afraid!

Beyond the world of bread-making, in the human world, the downtrodden, dispossessed, and are the necessary ingredient and driver in social movements.  The sanitized conventional that it is an class of intelligentsia or highly formally educated “managers” who guide social transformation is simply wrong.  In , such conventional forces are typically beholden to making a different kind of “bread” — or bred.  Bread Not Bombs Flour Power Its the Yeast We Can Do-FUNNY PEACE BUTTONThe lessens learned in the school of hard knocks are fertile fodder for street smarts and a built-in “” that powers authentic personal and social transformation.  The primary purpose of so-called social and “middle-class” living may very well be to erect a firewall between one’s own (and kin or clan) and the milieu of the messy, grungy, and sometimes vulgar “lower” classes.  This firewall is the very barrier that creates and perpetuates social .  The sanitized, , distant injustices of the board room and bedroom communities are normalized as “civilized,” even though they are responsible for far more human lost potential and than the “barbaric” physical acting out of street and “bad” neighborhoods.  White collar crimes go unpunished or perhaps dealt with “as a cost of doing ” — on occasion there is a slap on the wrist, more like going into the penalty box within a blood sport.  Almost without saying, waging is a duty, not a human tragedy.  “Street” crimes involving actual people — as opposed to corporate people — are an almost exclusive focus, to protect property and mostly respectable people.  People of color, those lowest on the social ladder — or any “other” — get the book thrown at them by erudite, costumed judges and enforced by less-erudite, armed, uniformed .

This poem alludes to nonviolence, Rising/Without flail, but this is not simply a comfortable nonviolence of safe pacifists.  On the receiving end of by the and the , its victims eventually realize that you can’t beat the at its own game.  Besides being outgunned, “non-sanctioned” is used to discredit social movements and serves as a convenient excuse to violently suppress — in a “civilized” way of course — social revolutionaries.  When rising tides of reach critical masses, is what the knows best to put down .  The usually unbroken veneer of civility is deeply threatened when persistent bares the brutish, overwhelming power of the state.  This is a highly effective weapon in manifesting true civility.  The needed for such a daring and dangerous venture is rooted in the shared experiences of the many disenfranchisements that the yield.  The equation of having more to gain than lose in such a venture presents the palpable opportunity and deep root for real social works against such opportunity, when the favors one’s own personal interests.  Plus, beyond any simple equation, the gained by living in restores some measure of the robbed by injustices.  Long the weigh, many realize that peace is the way, and such folks offer another way of living that doesn’t re-lie on the dehumanization of others.

May you find peace long the weigh and bare its many fruits…

POSTSCRIPT: On a somewhat more vulgar, and perhaps somewhat embarrassing, note, this poem can be red quite well as a sexual poem.  This was not my original intent.  If you read it that way, you are probably a man!  This is a fine example of how it is possible, particularly for a man, to sexual eyes most anything, any metaphor.  Hopefully, this multiple meaning will harm no one.  Enjoy!  I hope to never lose my touch…

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