Feminist POEM: Me Too — Now A Brand Knew Whirled Of Daughters

They rise from along history
Yet much more so from her story
As tectonic plates ready to serve up
Unseen
Earthquakes
From a thousand generations reserved in silence
Now a brand knew
Whirled of daughters
A raze of sisters
A planet of mothers
Assault of the earth
Kind
Of guy
Proffering
A little cue and
Eh
All up in her grill
Did she
Ever have a preyer
And sow unwilling to take it like a man
As scorn his money shot
That unequivocal denial
In gendering truth
Giving phallus testimony
As lord of the manner
What gender buy ass?
All the wile
Repeating his know bull
Saying
He said, she said
Firmly regarding women
No one can ever no
As patently reckon sow
Never the less
The young cry out
Listen, those who have years
And the owed cry out
Of chorus we believe
Agin and agin
How becoming
Suspect to boot
Those inconceivable wholly catholic believers
Accused of mass hallucination
Wile evangelicals ax for forgiveness
Can we hear an “awe men”
Convicted of repentance
Fore “Whatever”
Might
Or might knot
Curred
Even “so”
Prone to think not
Either weigh
Scores are cutely a ware
Of the deference between men and women
And their coming forwardness
Women taken longer for what sow ever reason
And presumptuous minute men
Pressing for Deliverance™
The move he perfected in reel life
Yet she persists
In efface of such a lie
As a nation crime seen
Takes it tolled
In that kill her attraction
Boys will be boys
As if only, desperately only
Girls will be boy’s
At his will
And over her dead body
Yet ever rising agin
Women take the stand
With a flood of testimony
Wee will sea
Who rights history
As righteous her story
You can bet your posterity
This is the time
Where few will scarcely believe
Such daze
A nation myth taken
Bye men of owed
Having all ready pain
Billed a thousand stories tall
More than merely high
Will occupy that feted place
Having long a go
Razed hell
And now we are where
Everyone is free
To converse with angels
Holy on the level

This poem is my latest ode to the Me Too movement and a living prayer in contrast to awe of the phallus preyers offered up these daze. Women Brought All Politicians Into The World, We Can Take Them Out POLITICAL BUTTONI find inspiration in the Me Too movement to combat the pitiful and hurtful lack of trust and faith in women testifying to their own experiences, particularly about sexual assault. While the very process of the Supreme Court nomination of Bart O’Kavanaugh, aka Brett Kavanaugh, is a profound driver and marker of the progress of the Me Too movement, if Bart O. is confirmed as a Supreme Court justice, he will be a clear and present danger to all women facing sexual harassment and sexual assault. As documented by the National Women’s Law Center:

Kavanaugh’s Record Signals Danger for Survivors of Sexual Harassment

  • Stop Sexism - STOP Sign POLITICAL BUTTONDuring his time as a judge, Kavanaugh has routinely ruled against working people, going out of his way to make decisions that deny people meaningful legal protection from sexual harassment and other forms of discrimination. His approach would harm those challenging workplace harassment and suggests a general hostility to discrimination claims, which could mean he would also make it harder to challenge harassment at school, from health care providers, and elsewhere.
  • SEXISM is a Social Disease POLITICAL BUTTONSexual harassment is not about sex, it is about power and control. Undocumented immigrant workers are especially vulnerable to sexual harassment and abuse, because they lack power in the workplace and elsewhere. Luckily, the Supreme Court has made clear that federal labor and employment law protects employees regardless of their immigration status, including their right to be free from harassment. Kavanaugh could change this. In Agri Processor Co. v. N.L.R.B., Kavanaugh dissented from a decision holding that an employer must bargain with employees who sought to form a union. Kavanaugh disagreed because many of the workers were undocumented immigrants. In the face of clear Supreme Court precedent to the contrary, Kavanaugh claimed that undocumented workers were not “employees” protected by the National Labor Relations Act, solely because of their immigration status. His analysis suggests that he would also hold undocumented workers are not “employees” protected from harassment and other forms of discrimination under federal law. This would give employers a blank check to sexually exploit undocumented immigrants and otherwise engage in the most despicable kinds of discrimination.
  • The #MeToo movement has shone a light on broken systems that prioritize protecting employers over helping those who experience harassment. One such system operates in Congress. Staffers experiencing sexual harassment at the hands of members of Congress or coworkers must endure three months’ worth of counseling before they can even file a formal complaint, for example. Kavanaugh, in Howard v. Office of Chief Admin. Officer of U.S. House of Representatives, would have further weakened the system protecting Congressional staffers from harassment and other forms of discrimination. The case involved a Black woman who worked for a Congressional office and alleged she was discriminated and retaliated against because of her race and paid $22,000 less than her white male counterparts doing the same job. Kavanaugh’s dissent argued she should be completely denied the right to bring her discrimination case in court, because judges should not inquire into most employment decisions made by Congress. Congressional employees, like other employees, should be able to go to court to enforce their legal rights and not be relegated into internal systems designed to protect their employers.
  • Federal law prohibits workplace sexual harassment. But in Miller v. Clinton, Kavanaugh wrote a dissent that would have denied a group of employees working overseas for the State Department any legal protections against workplace harassment and other forms of discrimination. His dissent also argued that those protected by civil rights laws are less desirable employees —a troubling worldview.
  • As the #MeToo movement has made clear, women are still too often disbelieved when they speak up about sexual harassment and assault. Unfortunately, Kavanaugh’s kneejerk reaction is to believe employers over individuals alleging discrimination. For example, in Jackson v. Gonzales, Kavanaugh wrote an opinion dismissing a Black employee’s claim that he was denied a promotion because of his race. The employer argued that the white employee who was promoted instead was more qualified even though her qualifications didn’t match up with the requirements in the job description. Kavanaugh ruled for the employer rather than letting a jury decide whether the employer’s explanation was believable.
  • Many individuals who experience harassment are afraid to come forward because they believe doing so will make it difficult or impossible to find another job. Kavanaugh has shown no concern for these real-world consequences of challenging discrimination. In America v. Mills, an employee accused his former employer of race discrimination, and the former employer agreed to pay the employee thousands of dollars to settle the claims. The settlement agreement also said that if prospective employers contacted the former employer about him, the only response would be a neutral reference. Instead of abiding by this agreement, the former employer gave a reference that included statements such as “he may not be the guy to take it to the next level…” and “I don’t think he got along with everybody…”; he had significant difficulty finding a new job. Kavanaugh held the former employer was not liable for violating the settlement agreement because this was close enough to a neutral reference. In the real world, of course, comments like this can torpedo a job opportunity. As the dissenting judge (a Bush appointee) noted, Kavanaugh’s analysis renders meaningless the part of the settlement agreement that was meant to ensure the individual’s future job prospects were not harmed as a result of challenging discrimination.

Feel free to view my feminist and women’s rights designs:

Feminism Is The Radical Notion That Women Are People POLITICAL BUTTONGlobalize THIS - WOMEN'S RIGHTS [earth graphic] POLITICAL BUTTON

Customer Service POEM: On Hold

Holed for service
A fool 40 minutes
Before it curse to me
Awe this while
Writing a verse
And now
Awe is write with the whirled
And still
Feeling somewhat loopy
With Muzak
As the soundtrack of my life
A borrowed cell
To get my net back
As technically
I have no phone
Without it
Beating this conundrum again
Buy perpetually wading
Virtually forever
A least weigh
Passed an hour
As much after
Out to lunch
Liable too due the same
In need of stomaching something else
…and halve an our later
I’m done
With out to lunch
Buckeye CableSystem you suck
The poetry write out of me

I wrote this poem while on hold with Buckeye CableSystem after my internet went out. Unfortunately, my phone runs off of the internet, so I can’t use my phone to call service. I have a landline, no cell phone. I borrowed my neighbor’s cell phone. After 90+ minutes on hold, I decided to hang up and dial again. Fortunately, they answered this time, after about 15 minutes. They had the internet up and running after a few hours. Unfortunately, my phone still doesn’t work, 13 days later, as my telephone provider, Pioneer Telephone, concluded after a week that whatever change Buckeye CableSystem made to the network was blocking the phone service. Perhaps typically, the phone technical service folks didn’t bother to tell me what they had concluded; I just got an e-mail that the ticket was closed. I sent an e-mail copied to both service providers asking them to get together and work this out. I haven’t heard anything yet. Perhaps they tried to call me!! I have been pondering stepping up my media sabbaticals. As I will soon enter week three without phone service, I suppose that I should be careful what I pray for.

FUNNY POEM: Weight Fore It

In the dark
Weight fore it
There it is
That singular smile
Making light
Of everything
Taking a twinkle
Over
Awe the whirled
As never
Settling for number one
Even as wading for it
On and on
As inevitable
As unstoppable
Groan
Only doing what comes naturally
Going
That second smile
On that throne
Laughing
In efface of death

	 Human Race has one really effective weapon: laughter - PEACE QUOTE BUTTONCourage to Laugh Master of World as He Ready to Die - PEACE QUOTE BUTTONThis poem is autobiographical, reflecting on my persistent inability to be serious while simultaneously and chronically dealing with serious issues. While my joking may be self-deprecatory, I specialize in deflating and parodying the powerful, dangerously powerful, if that’s not redundant. For me, the lightness that characterizes the best of life comes face to face with the all-to-often brutality and injustice that intersects, often vivisects, our lives. This laughing in efface of death is my most treasured place to be, in the role of jester, for which I am willing to die, that is, die laughing.

POEM: Awe The Less

I woke up
Knot a moment too soon
My values dying on the vine
Just realizing
In efface of
Every dollar
Unspent
Awe the less
I had to urn
And in that mean time
Aaah, lined my values
Every little thing on the table
Like the crack of daze break
In hail
Of every thing of late
That interminable rush
Expressly beyond reach
Eclipsing will
To simply be

Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication - Leonardo da Vinci quote SPIRITUAL BUTTONclock with NOW at all times SPIRITUAL BUTTONThis poem is an ode to less is more, aligning life to our deepest values, and slowing down in helping us get there.  Speed kills, substituting urgency for importance.  We rush to accomplish never present values, getting nowhere but in record time.  Rushing to dreamed futures we outrun life’s manifold presents, that which is fixed in unbroken attention to timeless values and awake to now.

This day, may we each experience a deep presence to that which is awe ready present.

Bull Shit Meter - FUNNY POLITICAL BUTTONOr…in countering every pretense dropping, cut through the stuff that makes life grow.

POEM: Owed To Stormi, The Poetess

It was a dark and stormy night
The starry heavens
Replaced by blinding light
Striking as lightning
Startling awe
But the bravest
From places unseen
With undeniable power
Sow ready to rumble
Reigning like a queen
Poet, poet her, poetess
Oh my God
Correction!
On my goddess
Her super natural wind
Clears deadwood from mighty oaks
And what remains
Still
Stands
Of gentle reads
On the edge
Of the river of life
And in her wake
Sleepy souls
And well wrested
A like
Find themselves
In what might
Be called
Daylight

I wrote this poem a while back in homage to Toledo poetess, Stormi, aka Paula Blocker, who graciously hosts a poetry reading every Friday night at The Trunk, 3353 Franklin.

POEM: This Is Knot Poetry — When Red Allowed

Waiving his red pen
He made his mute point
That spoken word is knot poetry
Like meting
Meter and anti-meter
And the invariable deconstruction of awe
As if
Employing free
Versus
The hire mind
For awe
That its worth
Save in alliteral weigh
Abut
Alas
Bringing too bare
Undisciplined obscenities uddering
As opposed to the ladder
As any won
May eye
Make this suggestive
Perhaps you’s
An unpronounceable cymbal farmerly no’in as prints
Pulling weeds
Of biblical pro portion
Fore whatever
It maybe worth
There is know space
Sandwiched
Between poetry and knot poetry
Between amateurs and prose
Knot that which isn’t
Nor which is
The wurst
I ever metaphor
Whatever
Call me
I am
An outspoken unspoken word artist
Unspellbound in my crappy weighs
And should upon
In the coming daze
Sow called poets anon meet
As shepherds to sheep affix
Due the write thing
Feel free
To shut the flock up

This poem was inspired by a blog article that a friend shared, entitled, “Spoken Word Is Not Poetry.”  My immediate response was simple: “I find it helpful to see everything as poetry.”  Of course, this is the gloriously useless mode of perception I aspire to use awe the time.  However, this poem represents a more detailed critique of the assertion that spoken word is not poetry. The author of this article pined that many readers at open mics are not trained poets and typically use free verse or prose poetry.  I must confess: I am an untrained poet, except by my tutelage under various muses.  Further, the often quick use of vulgarities offended the author’s parently higher sensibilities.  I strongly suspect that the work of any poet or poets is never complete as truth in word, as opposed to doing the deed in life, because life is F’ing ineffable.  Claiming that spoken word is performance art, which it is, seemed to be a means to taint spoken word artists as something other than poets. I certainly don’t mind being seen as more than a poet!  I wonder if the author would consider a novelist not a novelist if they read their work aloud — that would be a novel idea!  I related to the author’s point that an important part of poetry is the relationship of the reader to the written word without being nailed down by a verbal representation (or layering upon it performance art).  Most of my poems are best read silently, to allow for the multiple interpretations and meanings to brew within the reader; this process is at the heart of my poetry.  I find it difficult to read many of my poems out loud because I must pick one way to read the poem which inevitably shortchanges the beauty of dancing multiple meanings.  I must admit that when it comes to my poetry I am conveniently an anarchist, formally rejecting socially constructed boundaries of form. I do not doubt that the many fine forms of poetry developed over centuries are worthy of attention.  Nonetheless, I consider deflating pretensions as fodder for my poetic vocations.  If this itself seems pretentious, please feel free to take a meta view of my sow-called poems as self-parody.  At the end of my daze, I want parity for awe.

POEM: Promedica My Ass — Owed To Branding

Logos used
Too mean
Know ledge
Like that age owed ad vice
Would you jump off a bridge
If every won ails did
As in sayin’
Bye your good will
As money oozes from the non-prophet, health care (sic) system
The sores of philandering philanthropy
Well, come to PR medica
An unholy owned subsidiary
Of Tourette’s Industries
You will swear
Buy them
Weather you want to or not
Their marketing deportment is
As good as goaled
As black as poets inc
Greasing their wills
Stuck with irresistible pitch
As verbally contracted
Not worth the pay per
Printed upon
Yet this awe
Will in deed
Make it passable to live
As resistance is feudal
And being
Penned
Is what poets due
Indubitably
Sow branded
As live stock
For tolled
Too get a rise
The Tao jones
Working in our flavor
Over and over and over
Un-till bank rolled
In a dark ally
Buy and buy
Hour justifiable salivation
Attending too in trap meant anon
Agin and agin and agin
Fore the yoke is on-us
Awe the more
Fore the fire brand
Not with standing
In a flesh of genius
Is incensed
As won red scent
Becomes too
Until udderly crying out
In an unherd-of steer
I love the smell
Of nay palm
In the mourning
High noon
And too fly by night
Sullen this, sullen that
Soully worried
How irate
In some won ails size
Butt, its my skin in the game
Lonely hoping
Knot to be found
Within and without
My pants around my knees
As its only
My panties in a bunch
Over
Awe that madders
Poetic license
And corporate patronage
Some body
Has to
Pay the piper
To keep your roost ere plumbed
As upright as it comes
Why cant you
Say “uncle”
You know
Like that rich uncle
Who wants you
To sit on his lap
And tell you
Bed time
Stories
That will mark you for life
Butt kept mysteriously in a family weigh
As long
As in your genes
As in c’est la vie
Or sow, I’ve herd
As if
We are posed to be prod
Of being cattle
Scarred I’ll go
All Gandhi on you as
BE the beef
Awe the wile beating a different conundrum
Refraining that whole eat me thing
The mark of the best (sic)
Or rather sic sic sic’s
Sow fresh and hoary unholy revelations
Indulging vain wishes for dead presidents
And CEOs
Men of letters posterior to autograft
Ass-ever-rate
In playing defense
At my offense
With such propriety, proprietary and property
For my own good, posedly
Their mirror deflection
But, but, but, but, but
Except two a t
And so
I’m bare assed
And without
They’re money
You’re nothing butt
A bum
And the rush
Too be just
THAT

I am not a big fan of branding, whether it is of livestock or in corporate public relations. I was inspired to write this poem because at a regular monthly poetry reading they secured a small amount of funding to pay invited featured poets. Will Work For Universal Health Care POLITICAL BUTTONThe source of funding included local community foundations plus the nearly ubiquitous ProMedica, the largest health system within the Toledo region.  I have come to call Promedica, “PR Medica,” because of its often over-sized logo and branding in Toledo, aka ProMedica-ville, is nearly omnipresent in venues big and small.  I found its intrusion into the local poetry scene offensive, particularly because I am an iconoclastic, anti-commercial poet who specializes in addressing social justice issues.  This was a little too close to home for me.  I announced before my open mic reading that I did not want to be considered as an invited poet.  I suggested that to de-commercialize this reading, sending back the portion payed for by ProMedica, along with a strongly worded letter (might I suggest F and U), would be in order.

This is not the first time that I have unleashed my poetic visions against ProMedica.  The first time I devoted a poem to ProMedica was when they sponsored a state-wide poetry contest on the topic of anti-hunger with an honorarium to the winning poet that would befit and maintain the status of starving artist.  My unsubmitting, unremitting poem: Speaking With Spoken Sword: Owed To Hungering Fore Anew ProMedica.

Health Care is a Right Not a Privilege - PUBLIC HEALTH BUTTONSingle-Payer Health Care - Everybody In, Nobody Out POLITICAL BUTTONProMedica, if you want to combat hunger, pay all of your employees a living wage.  ProMedica, if you want to fulfill your mission and redeem your non-prophet status, devote 0.01% of your revenue toward advocating for universal health care, everybody in, nobody out.  Until then, you can bye this poet all you want.

POEM: A World Worth Fighting For

Once agin
His eyes went
Threw me
Populating lonely
A whirled
Of perpetrators and victims
Bad asses and good ass
Of which I was won
Haunted by wonder
In what kind
Of world
Would we halve
Been friends
Now that is
A world worth
Fighting for

In a world flush with partisan rancoring and polarized perspectives, it is easy to pay know tension to each other’s humanity, often valuing each other less than common ground.  Who is a hero? He who turns his enemy into a friend. The Talmud quote PEACE BUTTONIn a world wear the lyin’ between winners and losers is sharply drawn, like an unbrakable sored, we risk a fate worse than deaf.  When we are effaced with the phallus choice forced upon us between perpetrators and victims, there peers no amor culpable of shielding us in what is right or left, split in two, halves and have nots.  The flush harbor in their stately effluence of fauxs.  Oar their wins carry them aweigh, atop endless serfs and bounteous fleeting vassals.

Can one side fit awe?Peace - One Side Fits All - Peace Dove - PEACE BUTTON  Courage to Stand Up and Sit Down Listen - PEACE QUOTE BUTTONCan we engender enough solidarity and courage to make peace?  What does fighting for won an other’s humanity look like?  Who knows, perhaps the genuine struggle to answer such questions in our living and dying may very well be what makes this a world worth fighting for.

POEM: That Cursory Savor

Life
As present
Did not add up
As if
A zero
Sum game
The passed getting bigger
The future getting smaller
That good buy
That eminent lessen
As holy for gone
As refuse
As waive that fortune
Having only
Too come to wrest
With that cursory savor
The eternal
Now

That was Zen - This is Tao - FUNNY SPIRITUAL BUTTONHere is yet another poem on the theme of the eternal now. Life can seem to pass by so quickly with so many distractions, perhaps wondering where it all goes. Know madder how attached we are to things, they seem to pass.  The present, arisen from the past and cascading into the future, is awe we have.  And we find ourselves, moved by weigh of this exquisite mystery, in the mist of where the passed and the future are knot won or the other.  Long the weigh, most of us look for a savor of some sort, weather short and sweet or lingering and rarefied.  Not with standing, we are prone to cling on, fighting increasingly alien forces, light years beyond any measure of good taste.  Our salivation dries up before our face, caught in a scrunch, as whither every fecund moment reseeds in a parent mummification.  And in spite of everything, the Tao jones arises again and agin…

POEM: Devil’s Advocate

He was invited too serve
As devil’s advocate
But he prudently recognized
That the job was utterly filled
Declining the precipitous prize
And elevated gratuitousness

At one point or another, we are each tempted to take up, the downside of an argument.  The temptation to play devil’s advocate is yielded to with such regularity that more often than not such encumbrances serve only to discourage rather than uplift.  Don't Explain Your Philosophy, Embody It POLITICAL BUTTONReflexive skepticism often bludgeons another’s confidence.  Incessant dissection and paralysis of analysis can stall horse sense.  The evil genius of devil’s advocacy is in the seemingly safe purview of inaction.  Sins of omission are much easier to defend than sins of commission.  Endlessly attending multifarious schools of thought offers erudite inaction at a faction of the cost  Nonetheless, in a world already fucked up, practicing safer sects doesn’t go far enough.  Inaction favors the status quo.  In action favors change.  Fortunes favor conservatism.  Fortune favors the bold.  The Devil needs advocates like we need a hole in ahead — don’t fall into that claptrap!  We learn more from what we due than awe the rationalizing in the whirled.  I’ll see you in the real world and raze you 100 devil’s advocates.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. Explore. Dream. Discover. Mark Twain quote SPIRITUAL BUTTONWhy not go out on a limb? Isn't that where the fruit is? Mark Twain quote SPIRITUAL BUTTON

POLITICAL POEM: Fighting Exclusively

It was his thing
Fighting exclusively
Battles he could win
His crowning I deal
Never finding himself
On-the-cide of losers
Whirled why’d
Naught ails
But win
Filling his sales
Whatever
He could bye
A captain of destiny
In habiting the same owed ship
Where awe is lost
Save hope
For another class

The modern conservative is engaged in man's oldest exercise in moral philosophy: the search for a moral justification for selfishness -- John Kenneth Galbraith POLITICAL BUTTONTake any conservative position on a social or economic issue and boil away all the rhetoric and what you have left is 'I got mine, screw you' -- Justin Rosario POLITICAL BUTTONThis poem is about doing most anything to win, and where pragmatism provides cover for sociopathy.  What one will not do, that sacred “NO”, defines the boundaries and character of one’s ethical system and ultimate values.  Without “no,” there is only sociopathy, boundless amorality.  This is synonymous with “winning is everything.”  The ability to lose, suffering loss, making sacrifices for a greater good, is at the heart of any mature system of values.  This is not saying that suffering is intrinsically good, but some suffering is a necessary part of any process which seeks to trade up to greater goods.   Our capitalistic culture provides easy cover for amorality, a mysterious “invisible hand” that will turn our selfishness, shortsightedness, and greed into durable goods.  This makes nonsense of literally any system of ethics and human values.  Capitalism is a meat-grinder of all that is human and humane.

In our contemporary context, Donald Trump is the consummate example of “winning is everything,” willing to trample anything and anyone to satisfy his rapacious appetite and infantile desires.  I DON'T ALWAYS LIE, BUT WHEN I DO, I AM DRUNK ON POWER POLITICAL BUTTONHis staggering indifference to coherency is perhaps the best testament to his sociopathy and megalomania.  As his collection of infantile desires churn about from crying to be fed by others, being lulled by the prospect of absolute security, and to poop and have others clean it up, momentary contradictions are twittered away.  During his campaign, Donald Trump illustrated well the height of his foolishness by claiming that he would regulate himself when he was president, even though he considered it his sociopathic duty to behave with no self-regulation in his shady business dealings, his defining “success.”  The fact that so many Americans ate up this pablum attests to the worshipful status of the mythical “invisible hand” at the center of capitalism that will magically fix our bad behavior while encouraging bad behavior (sic).

Though it is any easy target to point out Donald Trump’s extraordinary stockpile of character defects, “winning is everything” is essentially a corollary of electoral politics.  Losers don’t govern.  The threat of apparent helplessness induced by electoral defeat is enough for most politically active human beings to habitually subjugate their highest ideals and dreams.  Ideals and dreams are easy prey in the capitalistic meat-grinder of democracy for sale and ensuing plutocracy/oligarchy/kleptocracy.  The nonnegotiable principals of “losers” are better served outside electoral politics where this different class of human (“losers”) can demonstrate the true winds of change needed for equality and justice for all.  Losers, in terms of electoral politics, are simply those whose basic needs and human rights are not met by the governance of the current rulers in power.  The first step in the evolution of ethics is a sense of solidarity with other human beings -- Albert Schweitzer quote POLITICAL BUTTONThere are a lot of losers!  When the many “losers” unite in solidarity against the fewer privileged elites, the electoral “winners,” justice is expanded.  You may correctly note that in this equation the truest source and force for justice for all resides with the “losers.”  Truth is on the side of the oppressed. Malcolm X quote POLITICAL BUTTONWhen people with “skin in the game,” whether from involuntary disenfranchisement or in voluntary solidarity, confront those with soothing privilege, truth and justice favor the side off the oppressed.  May all of the “losers” of the world unite!

POLITICAL POEM: Trump U Verses Screw U

O pose
The establishment
Of his style
Outside is in
Down with up
As drive in reveres
“I love sow and sow more than anyone”
And awe
That is
Con men
Selling Brooklyn bridges
To no where
That is good
The big apple buying the farm
As if
Building no hows
With less than for walls
One card to trump them all
A big hand
In no need
To play with a full deck
Holding his own
Against women and labor
And everything in between
Winner loose
Screw U

Washington And Wall Street Have All The Money And Power, The Media, The Courts And The Police -- All We Have is 300 Million People -- Do The Math POLITICAL BUTTONAs Donald Trump moves from his many business scams such as Trump University to his latest and biggest scam, running the U.S. government into fiscal and moral bankruptcy, he will take the American people to school concerning authoritarianism and oligarchy with massive xenophobia.  Trump’s vacuous grandiosity may fool a few desperate for change, but his histrionic casino regime will produce many losers and few winners — a rich man here, a fascist there.  His parochial nationalism, riddled with partisan policies and incoherent rants, will chop this nation into ever smaller pieces.  The one hope to overcome such sectarianism is a unified opposition resisting in solidarity with one another, having each other’s back.  A love of the planet and the rest of humanity wouldn’t hurt either!  A longshot would be that running American empire into the ground might be the most practicable route to a better world.  People Before Profits POLITICAL BUTTONTrump loves creating chaos, betting that power and privilege can profit off crisis and uncertainty.  While this approach may seem new, and perhaps ripe for change, in contrast to the stultifying certainty and fixation on calculable security of traditional elites, it is simply the other favorite tool of power and privilege, though typically reserved for widespread use in imperial rule outside the U.S.  Bringing chaos and crisis home as the preferred governing mode is dangerous to civil society and democracy.  We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools -- Martin Luther King, Jr. BUTTONThe answer to such a challenge wrests in the creativity and unflagging unity of those subject to such an assault.  Creativity trumps chaos.  Solidarity trumps divide and conquer strategies.  May we revel in creative resistance and overwhelming solidarity!

POEM: Know Deal

He offered
Me
All the secrets of the world
And being more
Or less ambitious
I went for a few secrets
Not of this world

This poem is a tip of the hat to a famous Thomas Aquinas quote: “The slenderest knowledge that may be obtained of the highest things is more desirable than the most certain knowledge of lesser things.”  They deem me mad because I will not sell my days for gold; and I deem them mad because they think my days have a price -- Kahlil Gibran quote POLITICAL BUTTONIf a man hasn't discovered something he will die for, he isn't fit to live. MLK QUOTE BUTTONCertainly, knowing how things work in the world of certainty — or, at least, high probability — is very useful in navigating this world.  No cents getting burned in a wring of fire.  Still, the world of possibility, of may be, is where the heights of humanity are scaled.  There is a certain infinity in pi that boggles the mind.  There is a particular immeasurably to the census of a delectable pie.  There is abounding freedom in a life taunted by a pie ever-growing in size.  To gain the world and lose your soul is perhaps the gravest deal ever afforded our priceless lives.  Awe that I am saying, just, know deal.

POLITICAL POEM: Unite In The Write

Poets of the world unite
Delivering a bill of writes
To the regressive elite
And overcompensating narcissists
May the love of word in deed
Translate into a raging river of love
Pounding against that professed shore thing
Strait from the art
Sailing that authorship of see change
For good
Wresting in the hearts and hands
Of awe around US
For wee
Will
Make it
Sow

Non Violent Revolutionaries Raze Hell -- POLITICAL BUTTONThis poem is a call to all poets, writers, musicians, artists, and all creative human beings to put their lives and work on the line for justice for all.  Artists Make Lousy Slaves POLITICAL BUTTONCreating a beautifully compassionate and life-affirming world is the greatest work of heart that creative people can embark upon.  Art is pivotal in expressing sumptuous resistance and inspiring hope and sustained action.  As the saying goes, “I won’t join any revolution that I can’t dance to!”  Weather your most cherished struggle is smashing patriarchy, overthrowing oligarchy, routing racism, or pioneering peace, we should join won another in an unstoppable dance party of solidarity and mutual support.  Be the beautiful revolutionary that will yearn the weigh in the triumph of humanity.

rEVOLution is the Solution (LOVE) - POLITICAL BUTTONLearn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist -- Pablo Picasso quote POLITICAL BUTTONNice Day For A Revolution POLITICAL BUTTON

POLITICAL POEM: Heir Conditioning

As things went south
South goes north
Truly
Global warning is real
There is an arising
From the fires in bellies
And home fires burning
In efface of doors closed
Windows open
Those crazy few
Committed
Those sober many
Just sane
Mete the seventh generation
Au natural
As a sentry
Before being
Borne
Heir conditioning
The owed
Fashion way

This poem goes out to global warming activists and awe those in people’s movements growing in solidarity and size.  This poem was triggered this mourning from Predator-in-Chief Donald Trump’s executive order seeking to restart the Dakota Access Pipeline in a direct challenge to native american treaty rights, clean water, and a sane energy policy.  Environmental Justice NOW POLITICAL BUTTONDonald Trump, Brexit, and the latest rise in right-wing, authoritarianism will likely spur the uniting of growing global movements and local direct actions to counter such regressive policies and social conditions.  Globalize THIS - ENVIRONMENTAL RESPONSIBILITY [earth graphic] POLITICAL BUTTONNative peoples are, and have for thousands of years, been on the forefront of protecting Mother Earth.  Such formidable force and wisdom will confront the frightful farce and foolishness of authoritarianism, oligarchy, patriarchy, capitalism, racism, yoda, yoda, yoda — there is no try, only due.  In the missed of this generation, we will find our true north, hearts warming to the seventh generation.  We will find a weigh that cannot put down the arising of peoples everywhere there is injustice and anywhere there is injustice.  Just US first will be met with justice first.  The reckoning is arose, know madder what you call it!

Feel free to browse more global warming, climate justice designs:

Steward Ship - Planet Earth Picture-POLITICAL BUTTONToday, humanity faces a stark choice: save the planet and ditch capitalism, or save capitalism and ditch the planet --Fawzi Ibrahim quote POLITICAL BUTTONMOTHER Earth POLITICAL BUTTON

Got Clean Energy POLITICAL BUTTONOnly when the last tree has been felled, the last river poisoned and the last fish caught, man will know, that he cannot eat money. Cree Indian Prophecy quote POLITICAL BUTTONThere Are No Jobs On A Dead Planet POLITICAL BUTTON

 

POLITICAL POEM: In Daze Not To Follow

The plantation had fallen
Into this repair
As fore many
Present
Work
Over and above
The well, known
Used
Too deep scars
And familiar ditches dug
Subject to an other privilege
However bound
Too knew found freedom
And worldwide travails
In daze not to follow
As anew master
What is foremost if not awe
As the perennial struggle
Only partially one
Pregnant with possibility
Poised as a new virgin of reality
Offering womb to grow
And inescapably bringing labor wince again
As tender feat must come to terms
With maturity
Of awe that is
Never still
Borne
So exceptionally sow

While I wrote this poem long before Donald Trump’s election, I am offering this poem as an inauguration poem.  This poem addresses two major realities which are often met with conflicting attitudes.  The first reality is that we live in a nation and a world far from justice for all.  Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere--Martin Luther King, Jr. BUTTONThere are endemic, chronic injustices which bear heavily on the daily realities of countless millions of people.  This can be dreadfully depressing and diabolically disheartening.  The second reality is that every disappointing condition can be met with our higher, better selves and serve as an invitation to build solidarity with others experiencing injustice to create a better future.  Also, there is hope in the fact that persons who have experienced chronic injustice, for years or generations, have developed hardy and hearty abilities to cope and combat protracted injustice.  This reservoir of collective experience, skills, and hope for a better future may very well be the most positive force on earth.  This poem’s opening line alludes to the centuries-long battle for racial justice fought by the descendants of slaves against virulent racism and ever-morphing Jim Crow laws.  The Black Lives Matter movement is yet another creative continuation of this ongoing struggle.   Truth is on the side of the oppressed. Malcolm X quote POLITICAL BUTTONIn the short run, those living by the short run seem to have the advantage.  However, in the long run, those committed to the long haul, transgenerational justice, are greatly advantaged in bringing about better answers to the eternal human questions.  The apparent reality that eternal human questions can not be fully and finally solved on this earth is not an adequate excuse for cynicism.  Better is better and worse is worse.  Apologists preying on divisions in humanity for their own easy profit are as shortsighted as they are inhumane.  Donald Trump may be the king of profiting off of easy-to-divide scenarios where the well-heeled are well suited to make a killing from the ensuing chaos and trauma.  Globalize THIS - RESISTANCE [earth graphic] POLITICAL BUTTONThe answer to the stupid question that is Donald Trump is unyielding solidarity with the whole of humanity and transform the cowardly profits of injustice through the courageous cost of justice borne by all people of good will.  May we find the courage to put whatever skin is necessary into the game to assure overwhelmingly abundant opportunities for justice to prevail.  May our labors give berth to wondrous new realities.

POEM: A Star To Be Borne — People Knot Looking Up

In dozin’s of dozin’s
They were engrossed
Fueled time and time agin
In con founding sow a ware
Their tension helled by their idol busyness
In pitches black to looming executors
As orderly
As dark
Knot knowing her
Under stand
Oh so only
A pinpoint of light
Maid awe
The brighter
Bye her dark surroundings
A soul star
Hardily seen
By fortune it few
Wile spacey masses
Worship the knows on their efface
As oblivion too her
As if
A gazillion miles away
Holy unappreciated
Yet in good accompany
Uncounted others
As bidding awe
To glisten up
And down bellow
To those untoward souls
Doody bound to knot look up
The bind leading the bind
As eyes razed
Awe through the night
Dreaming of eight hour daze
And might as well be
Taken for granite
Ahead stone
In concrete cubicles
And dead lines
In deed missing
Hi noon
Starring you in the face
As you were
Out to lunch

This poem tells a story of lives lived in such a fast and concrete way that awe is mist.  Weather the gently glistening star unseen from mansions suitable for slumber or the noonday sun unnoticed as out to lunch, people make due knot looking up.  Threw out most of human history, people looked up to the stars as entree to the eternal.  Unshrouded by big city lights, beacons of planetary possibilities bound only by imagination lucidly invite us to feast from such a contemplate.  Even in the light of day, when our own earth beckons hour attention, original peoples looked to the sun in their measure of time, as the nightly heavens did their seasoning allot.  The latest version of humanity, with each precisely distracted digital watch, now combined with a wring tone of our favorite bland, solicits us to look down time and time agin.  Fastened in a virtual reality, the only looking up we due is Googling.  Sow trying, to keep up to speed!   Who can resist such a lure?  Perhaps a generous summon from a heavenly place can raze our efface.  May the ponderings of countless stars, or a singular sun, be sufficient inspiration in life to look up without flail.

POEM: Trash Talk

God is culpable
Of more than you can
Imagine
Your momma
Fodder unknown
Know Job
A dyslexic dog
Dissembling I’m OK, you’re KO
Unsporting
A boxer of tiny portions
And don’t get me
Going
On
That big, ugly, unmentionable cistern
You don’t no
Jacked up
As if
To win some race
In venting
All ready
Only hopping
To swear out
You’re welcome
Err flailing
Too give a peace of your mind
Brain dishing a bad as gratitude
For feigning
As mite be Abel
To kick the biggest brass of awe
At the Guardin’ of
Eatin’
Up The Big Apple™
Arboring a grudge
Match
To the hole place
As having conned him
Impotent
As a rubber
Ball
A real bouncer
Off me
Sticking it to you
How in
Sensitive too
The sores of your being
So stoned phase
Tow to tow
As without
A life less stand
Erect it awe
Wanting nothing
Except falling silent
As is
Sow miss taking
Not wresting
Till you
Accede
Punch drunk
Or even wurst
Bared neck deep
Be forgoing your sole
At the bottom of the wring
Floored affront a missive audience
Still
He lives
Fore this dream
In this verbal spar for the coarse
And dumb struck in aptitude
For all else remains
Stairing him down
Forever helled
In his hands dealt
Before any anti-up
Down with that
In a blink if an I
Never the first to given
To a choir
Such hush
Money
In a life unfare
And projecting big
However mum
However long
Too menned
As fraud eons lip
Silently psyching out
As sum unspeakable whore
With a price honor head
As taller rating a lowly art
In sending some alpha mail
Those sacred techs
And incipient twitter
Having never
Really metaphor
Sow allusive
To sum
At best semi-for
Better off
The mirrorly suggestive
Un-intimated by ancient versus
And ode records
An old man in a Jung man’s game
As if
Some ark-type
A pare before them
Where only won is going down
A know lose proposition
What madder
Is an other
Head swimming
As taut from the bottom up
As must be
Know one
Hear
Knot fallen
For that agin
And in
The tacit turn
Of events
Awe is ink or hear it
Or in mortality by a million bytes
Or the numb-er of hits
And what can won do
As trash talk
The next best thing
Too silence
And bring a bout
As know more
A self-maid man
Having a fuel
Fore a maker
As surly as
A chicken before egged on
A can o’ bull
As self effacing
Is only fare
In the whirled heavy wait
Division
Of those in the arena
Where countless I’s are fixed
On good byes
As behind
They’re back
To the wall
Outside on the billing
The name on the mark he
Can
But don’t halve two
In the singular
Word

This long poetry slam offers an energetic and frenetic take on the modern, secular resistance to our metaphysical nature.  A Conclusion Is The Place Where You Got Tired Of Thinking SPIRITUAL BUTTONThis poem employs the metaphor of a boxer trash talking his opponent before the big match, a grudge match: pure physics and impure metaphysics.  This poem intentionally juxtaposes in-your-face physicality, profane language and plenty of attitude with the stereotypically staid and academic stance of philosophical discourse and theological erudition.  This poem mocks the scorn often evident on both sides of the theism-atheism, materialist-metaphysical debate, that fracas awe, aka the no master versus the master debates.  Don't let your victories go to your head, or your failures go to your heart. SPIRITUAL BUTTONMy love of parodies reflects a sense of lightheartedness in a chord with the soul and doing a body good.  For the main event, we all love a parity of parodies.  There is little satisfaction in a blowout.  There is a nagging root for the underdog — whoever that, may be.  What ever weigh, the show goes on.  And the truth lies somewhere between showing up and showing up.

POEM: Left To His Own Devices

Left to his own
Devices
He was apped to cynicism
And awe of the most virtual of realities
Things looking up
People looking down

Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men--Martin Luther King, Jr. BUTTONThis poem touches upon one of my pet peeves: electronic devices preempting direct human contact and interfering with face-to-face communication.  Quite naturally, layers of technology between humans lead to a degraded quality of communicating and form a barrier to paying full attention to the other person.  That this catalyzes cynicism between people is no surprise to me.  Of course, in this age of corporate and virtual persons, technology and “things” are looking up and real people are looking down.  May you find yourself looking up and see another wondrous human eager to relate directly to you.

POEM: Sum How Present In A Stupefying Flash

Creation groans
In pregnant expectancy
More than
Any one
Ever anew
In a singular couplet
The quest in
And the call out
For who
All
Abel to hear
Blood from ground
Crying in relation
To the curse of can and will
Uncoupled from good judgment
Yearning for just us
Unearth as in heavin’
Our daily bred
Sow here
Those who have years
And those a loan
Willing to live in a wink
A parent to child like
In a second
Nature
As in tended
Present in a stupefying flash
A berth pleasing to awe
And sum how with unremitting accountability

	 New Beginnings Are Often Disguised As Painful Endings --Lao Tzu quote SPIRITUAL BUTTONThis poem reaches into the depths of our yearning for justice and calls us to seize the daze with every new moment.  This poem invites us to go where no won has gone before and yet travel in solidarity with countless courageous and creative comrades who have plowed the grounds of rectitude.   Where the eternal metes the now, we reap the overwhelming presents beyond just us.  As awe weighs, something anew is happening.  As we surf troubled waters, can we sea it?  May we discover a knew that which ever refreshes.