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: 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: That Arguable Grip

He argued
Fore cynicism
Farced to choose between
What’s left
What is right
And he one handily
With won hand tied behind his back
Soundly
Like the slow clap
With the only hope
That he is not contagious
And that joy can be found in abandon
In the grip of whatever he comes up with

This poem continues in my perpetual theme of cynicism versus hope, with a tip of the hat to the post-election ennui experienced by much of the American electorate and non-electorate.  Like I have been known to say: cynicism is its own reward.  Got Cynicism SPIRITUAL BUTTONThis poem awards cynicism with one of my favorite insulting critiques: cynicism is like masturbation, except without the short-term pleasures or long-term benefits.  While experiencing the grip of cynicism qualifies as normal, cynicism strikes me as a profoundly maladaptive response to building a long-term, hope-filled relationship with reality.  If you argue for cynicism, on whose side are you on?  Of course, misery loves company.  Incorporate that company in your worldview and you win amputated possibilities and learned helplessness.  Cynicism is locked in lamentable necessity and wretched necessities.  The cynic says, 'One man can't do anything.' I say, 'Only one man can do anything.' John W. Gardner quote SPIRITUAL BUTTONHope lives in possibility and possibilities ordered by our deepest dreams.  Hope accepts the hard work of recognizing that our stymied yearnings are more of a reflection of the depth of our longings than mirror confirmation of our foes’ oafishness.  Cynicism is fueled by the easy focus on others’ shortcomings.  Hope is fed by the steadfast convergence of dreams and dreamers.  It is easy to fall for seasons of cynicism and its many accomplices; I only ask that we keep the spring of hope in the lineup and work to swell the list of usual suspects…

Enthusiasm Trumps Cynicism PEACE BUTTONThe first step in the evolution of ethics is a sense of solidarity with other human beings -- Albert Schweitzer quote POLITICAL BUTTON

POEM: Gordian Knot — Owed To Mother Hope

Reality can be a mother
Halving given
Cynicism wide berth
Big brother
Too hope
A mist
Crying incessantly
And the crapping of won’s pants
Entrapped
Flanked by sterility and fertility
Fenced buy utility and futility
Until something
Something all inspiring
Ever knew
But barely seed
Shh
It happens
As springing from dis illusion
And groan together
From that exasperating brood
In awe
That kin be done
And what might be
A parent
Or knot

This poem arose this day from the comment of a friend who did not see hope where I saw some, and yet he still hopes.  As a poet, I often see humanity in an epic struggle between cynicism and hope.  Idealists Raze Hell -- POLITICAL BUTTONHell is where hope is abandoned, to allude to Dante.  Heaven is where hope flourishes.  Hope Trumps Despair PEACE BUTTONAs John Paul Sartre, the existentialist philosopher and author, wrote famously in his play, No Exit, “Hell is other people.”  Know argument here.  Of course, I wholed to the other half of truth, as well: Heaven is other people.  Solidarity trumps alienation.  Hope is the better portion of reality, that mother that teaches us sow much.  Those caught in the mine of this earth may argue quite rationally that hope is the leanest in the efface of the meanest.  Still, hope strikes me as both the lightest and most profound portion in the efface of darkness.  Life and death.  Heaven and Hell.  Hope and cynicism.  The thin line between genius and insanity is less of a border than a union. Stuart Hayes quote SPIRITUAL BUTTONWho dares dance in their mist?  Many people at most times choose to fight over merely what they halve — that is given.  Fortunately, we don’t have to live in most times.  We only have to live in the present.  Let hope be the present.

As I am prone to obscure references, I must note the meaning of Gordian knot, though you may myth the point with or without it.  A Gordian knot is often used as a metaphor for an intractable problem (disentangling an “impossible” knot) solved easily by loophole or “thinking outside the box” (“cutting the Gordian knot”):

In Greek and Roman mythology, the Gordian knot was an extremely complicated knot tied by Gordius, the king of Phrygia in Asia Minor. Located in the city of Gordium, the knot came to symbolize a difficult problem that was almost impossible to solve.

According to legend, Gordius was a peasant who married the fertility goddess Cybele. When Gordius became king of Phrygia, he dedicated his chariot to Zeus and fastened it to a pole with the Gordian knot. Although the knot was supposedly impossible to unravel, an oracle predicted that it would be untied by the future king of Asia.

Many individuals came to Gordium to try to undo the knot, but they all failed. Then, according to tradition, the Greek conqueror Alexander the Great visited the city in 333 B . C . After searching unsuccessfully for the hidden ends of the Gordian knot, Alexander became impatient. In an unexpected move, he took out his sword and cut through the knot. Intellectuals solve problems; geniuses prevent them. Albert Einstein quote SPIRITUAL BUTTONAlexander then went on to conquer Asia, thus fulfilling the oracle’s prophecy. Alexander’s solution to the problem led to the saying, “cutting the Gordian knot,” which means solving a complicated problem through bold action.

May you live in the won reality where everything is knot as it seams.

POEM: Lost And Found

Sum wear
Long the weigh
Countless souls
Lost
Their sense of humor
Only too end up
Way to Sirius
Occupying that eternal box
Under the counter
Only willing
To pass it long
To whom sow ever
Claims it for their owin’
And consider it
Awe the more
Than mirror junk
And that unmatched
Like a kid smitten
With another helping
Bringing it awe back
To the whirled of the living

This poem was inspired by a couple of occasions where others had spoken about how they had lost their sense of humor and I thanked them, because I had found it.  Courage to Laugh Master of World as He Ready to Die -- PEACE QUOTE BUTTONI find humor nearly everywhere.  Life is endlessly intriguing, stubbornly surreal, and surprisingly funny.  Many may look at my life and might consider it a perfect storm of their worst scenarios.  Nonetheless, I often feel like a kid smitten with that unmatched experience of finding joys in what others consider unwanted junk in the lost and found box.  Valuing what others consider trivial or worth avoiding can be vexing at times, yet there is an expansive freedom in not chasing after and competing for the same stuff most everybody else is.  Some days I feel as though I am literally living in a different world; yet, I sense that I deeply see our shared reality, replete with pain and suffering, countless contradictions, and despair, just as abounding with joy and serendipities, poetic beauty, and profound hope.  Human Race has one really effective weapon: laughter -- PEACE QUOTE BUTTONI find that humor abounds amidst odd juxtapositions, playful exaggerations, and a rich appreciation for the possible.  I often use humor to see past cynicism and fixations on the ugliness in life.  Sometimes this may strike overly serious folks as grasping for baubles, but value is largely in the eye of the beholder; and if conventional views snare despair, then it may just be time to discard such views.  Humor may not be everything, but humor can be found nearly anywhere.  If you have lost your sense of humor, I’ll keep an eye out for it.  Trust me, I’ll give it back to you if I find it.

You Laugh at Me Because I'm Different, I Laugh at You Because You're All the Same - FUNNY POLITICAL BUTTONGot Laughter SPIRITUAL BUTTON

ACTIVIST POEM: With Eyes Fixed — Owed To Shannon Frye

She was tired
Enough
Fore sentries of human bondage
Still
Those precious wons
With eyes fixed
On the prize
Forever remanding us
Stay qualm
And carry on

All the darkness in the world could not put out the light of one small candle. Jewish Holocaust victim's epitaph POLITICAL BUTTONThousands of candles can be lit from a single candle and the life of the candle will not be shortened - Happiness never decreases from being shared -- Buddha SPIRITUAL BUTTONThis poem was inspired by Shannon Frye’s blazing commentary that I recently included in my blog.  Her response to why she delivered this heart-on-fire outpouring was simply “I just got tired.”  May we all get so tired!

This poem is also part of a larger, lifelong project and dream of mine that every person on earth have a poem dedicated to them.  And Shannon Frye, you are poem-worthy!

I have witnessed many candles in the wind, their flame not ensconced within an enduring heart.  I have seen too many young people embrace cynicism, unwell earned, hermetically sealing hope within suffocating rationalizations and fatal truths.  Shannon is a breath of fresh air, awe about inspiration, and connecting the unseen stars for those waiting to exhale.  May the flame in her heart set the world ablaze.

POEM: As Far As One Kin See

As far as one kin see
It is a sin to crush some one’s body
And infinitely greater sow to crush some one’s spirit
In sum vain temped too raze awe questions
Can God
A-bridge
Between infinitude and soully you
Make piece with that which is wholly
Eternally now and to marrow
Not trading
In sin
As just
Some won
Violence
To that which is ardor
Too due
And infinitely greater

This poem is a tribute to the oneness of humanity, body and soul.  This poem recognizes the brutality of crushing one’s body through violence — whether through weapons or crushing needs.  This poem also posits that crushing one’s hope and dreams is udderly worse, steeling one’s soul.  This poem is an ode to those who accept that the hard work of creating justice on earth, here and now, is in seamless alignment with practices of the spirit in seeking evolution and enlightenment.  The inward and outward journeys must find some parity, or ails be subject to earned cynicism or learned helplessness.  The hopeful, those fuels for justice, must join up with awe those down in the trenches, those on the margins of cagey and fuel of street whys. Humanity has a shared destiny, and the key lies, not to cell, each other out.  For won humanity, there must be won love.  Sow let’s get together, body and soul, and cut to the chaise!

THIRD PARTY POEM: A Door Number Three

A Door Number Three

Caught a mist
The cross
Fire
Between partisan streams
Shooting for number won
Too put out
In
A narrow mined field
Wear white is anti-black
And black is nonwhite
So fanatical about your stripes
Yet no zebras aloud in this pocket-sized zoo
With mirrorly elephants and asses
Projecting pathetic passabilities
And discount dreams
Reeking of good buy
To anyone who dares no them
Walking like a duck, talking like a duck
Only to be ducked
And incorporated
Into a sterile sermon about oral sects
And sow called impenetrable rectitude
Of know choice
But fear
Perpetuating too
Evils
Passing for number won
And number two
Making sum adore
Number three
Sow choice

Wince agin the American electorate is being cowed into the udder failure of two-party politics, milking each other, and US, for all they are net worth, in an increasingly bankrupt political system.  Do You Suffer From Electile Dysfunction? The inability to be aroused by any political candidate POLITICAL BUTTONThe time is ripe to wake up from this surreal nightmare and start making third party, fourth party, and fifth party politics a reality.  Of course, we are so distant from a functioning democracy as an oligarchy, plutocracy, and corporatacracy, that only direct action and mass movements can pivot humanity and the planet onto a sustainable path.  Mass protest and outright resistance are the increasingly emerging result of a growing gap between the will of the people and elected officials beholden to elite interests.  As is typically the case, political revolutions will be led from below, not from the top, as the status quo spins out of control.  Given the natural limits of our planetary ecosystem and the human spirit, resistance is rising.  Stop Repeat Offenders - Do NOT Re-elect Them POLITICAL BUTTONThe vain hope of an authoritarian fixer like Donald Trump, the anti-republican Republican is a wholesale abandonment of enlightened democracy by the people, and a sad reflection of our national worship of celebrity and wealth.  He is the most incompetent, unqualified candidate for president ever nominated by a major U.S. political party.  The anti-democratic Democrat, Hillary Clinton, is tragically enmeshed in elite, monied interests, and a devoted product of American exceptionalism and the project of empire.  Her cynicism and reluctant leadership in granting citizens social benefits in acquiescence to the powers that be is unmasked and unleashed in foreign policy and multinational business where kowtowing to the American electorate is better aligned with nationalistic interests and American privilege and power, keeping Team America on top.  Republican, Democrat, Not Playing Your Silly Games Anymore POLITICAL BUTTONThe United States of America, led by either of these candidates, will neither further democracy nor steer US clear of our current path of planetary catastrophe.  It is time to do something different.  And yes, you do have choices.

Feel free to browse my Third Party electoral and resistance/political revolution designs.

The further a society drifts from the truth, the more it will hate those who speak it -- George Orwell quote POLITICAL BUTTONWashington 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 BUTTONGlobalize THIS - RESISTANCE [earth graphic] POLITICAL BUTTON

WARNING: Civil Disobedience Causes Increases In Human Rights POLITICAL BUTTONThose who profess to favor freedom, and yet deprecate agitation, are men who want crops without plowing up the ground. Frederick Douglass quote POLITICAL BUTTONActivism Is My Rent For Living On This Planet -- Alice Walker quote POLITICAL BUTTON

 

POEM: Namaste

Who dares ax
Why I am
Sow meta for
As the spear it in me
Razes up
Too meat the spirit in you

http://www.toppun.com/Religious-Spiritual/Buttons/Don-t-Have-A-Sacred-Cow-SPIRITUAL-BUTTON.htmlThis poem is an ode to my favorite version of the greeting “namaste:” may the spirit in me rise up to meet the spirit in you.  My poetic version plays with the meeting of the spiritual and physical, the spirit and the flesh.  How do the sublime and the crude coexist?  The short answer is that life is marvelously messy.  Daring to question why I am the way I am can be a precarious project.  Delving into why the great “I AM” is “I AM” can be downright dangerous.  Existence is puzzling; essence more sow.  One of my projects in life is to be in touch with my bastard nature, daring “too meat” the spirit in you.  The churning of my spirit yearns to kiss the whirled of flesh, and perhaps more.  The paradox of “Razes up” speaks to the inextricable cycles of destruction and creation, countless resurrections, risings up from the ashes like a phoenix. Re-born Again and again and again and again SPIRITUAL BUTTON This is a death-defying game: “the spear it in me.”  Still, I like to stir things up.  Things that are settled strike me as dead.  My Karma Ran Over Your Dogma. SPIRITUAL BUTTONWhere there is pretension, expect to be punctuated with vulgarity.  Where there is cynicism, expect to be flooded by my delugings of unabashed hope.  I will hurl sublime poetry over your ahead, but I won’t pick at your soars.  I will lob softballs to hit you out of park, but know one will keep score.  The hallowed and the hollowed will mete.  There are plenty of weepin’s in this life too be had.  How ever, weather I reach hi or lo, behold my arse and all.  Think good that the pun is mightier than the sored!  What ever this life is, it is the most beautiful thing I ever metaphor.  Metaphors Be With You SPIRITUAL BUTTONNamaste.

 

 

 

 

 

Please feel free to check out other spirit-filled, inspiring and life challenging designs:

A Conclusion Is The Place Where You Got Tired Of Thinking SPIRITUAL BUTTONIf you are in control, then you are going too slow. SPIRITUAL BUTTONWhy not go out on a limb? Isn't that where the fruit is? Mark Twain quote SPIRITUAL BUTTON

Not All Who Wander Are Lost SPIRITUAL BUTTONFind Your Own Way -- Buddha SPIRITUAL BUTTONThey will say you are on the wrong road, if it is your own. Antonio Porchia quote SPIRITUAL BUTTON

Don't take life so seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway. SPIRITUAL BUTTONFirst Things First But Not Necessarily in That Order SPIRITUAL BUTTONReality is for people who lack imagination. SPIRITUAL BUTTON

BORN AGAIN and Again and Again SPIRITUAL BUTTONEver Wonder? SPIRITUAL BUTTONGot Inspiration SPIRITUAL BUTTON

The Beginning is Near SPIRITUAL BUTTON

Comedian Jesus: Any TRUMP? NO, Go Fish, I’m Not Playing That Game

This Comedian Jesus cartoon combines the contemporary unwanted news cycle of Donald Trump with the timeless question of: Precisely what game are you playing?

Comedian Jesus: Any TRUMP? NO, Go Fish, Not Playing That Game

This Comedian Jesus cartoon is an inspired hybrid of a pun on “Trump,” and my poem, “Different Game:”

Sorry, I don’t have any bargaining chips
I’m playing a different game

Perhaps it goes without saying that I am a real card.

The fact that Jesus hung out with fisherman, real working class people, is just another bonus layer on the metaphor of the card game: fish.

Elect Satan - Why Pick The Lesser Of Two Evils - FUNNY POLITICAL BUTTONA ballot is like a bullet. You don't throw your ballots until you see a target, and if that target is not in reach, keep your ballot in your pocket. Malcolm X quote POLITICAL BUTTONIn the current epic game of the lesser of two evils, Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton vie to benefit more by comparison than by any solid or transcendent standard.  The cynicism in politics is largely defined by the perpetual cycle of disappointment in the politicians that we elect.  We are frightened by both “means” and “ends.”  We are blackmailed into compromised candidates, wear fear and compromised boundary setting conspire to deliver the “goods” that are, in fact, not good.  As captives of fear, compromised “means” unsurprisingly produce congruent “ends.”  The simple fact is that you will not produce politicians substantially better than the electorate.  We want politicians to save us from one another, when what we need to be saved from is our own fear. This myth of redemptive politicians short-circuits the reality that we must be the change we want to see in the world.  CAPITOL PUNISHMENT: Those Without The Capitol Get The Punishment [capitol building] POLITICAL BUTTONThe fact that we look to fundamentally compromised candidates to triumph over other fundamentally compromised candidates, speaks to low expectations consistent with the tattered boundaries (based on our values) that we set (or don’t set).  These boundaries are based on who each person wants to be, not who they want others to be.  We are all leaders.  We need solidarity with one another, not the desire to rule over others.  Defeat The Elite POLITICAL BUTTONElectoral politics is overwhelmingly about choosing who, some elite typically, to rule over us.  Ruling over others is the devil’s game. You can’t beat the devil at his own game.

In my view, we need to be well centered in solid and/or transcendent standards along with the courage to see a different game possible.  The solid and/or transcendent standards speak to a long game, dare I say eternal (or timeless).  The courage speaks to every moment presented to me where I have a choice of ruling/dominating over others or living as true equals, with equal respect and claim to our human rights.  It is not in the nature of politics that the best men should be elected. The best men do not want to govern their fellowmen -- George MacDonald quote POLITICAL BUTTONSuch a courageous game of equality and solidarity is anathema to privilege.  True solidarity is always directed at the disenfranchised, those whose human rights are trampled, humanity marginalized, and personhood monetized.  Gangs of privileged folks crying, “All lives matter” in the face of people rising up to claim their human rights is not true solidarity.  For a long time now, I’ve viewed “First Worldism” as the fundamental disconnect on the planet.  This disconnect is centered in the USA.  Americans certainly have their problems at home.  Nevertheless, these problems are rooted, and overshadowed, by the disconnect with the wrest of the second and third world — most of the world.  American exceptionalism is exceptionally bad for the planet and humanity, and a nearly psychotic break from reality.  For every thousand hacking at the leaves of evil is one striking at the root. Emerson quote POLITICAL BUTTONIf the game in the center ring is to secure better social benefits on the deathstar that is America, rather than dismantle the deathstar, then America will be a plague on this planet and a cancer on humanity.  I intend to play a different game.

Please feel free to browse other thought-provoking designs on breaking through the lies and propaganda in politics to live in transparent truth.

POEM: A Constipated Citizenry

Not so deep
Within the body politic
A constipated citizenry
Yearns to be free
Crying out
In a full groan democracy
Mourning the dearth of moral fiber
Humanity squat
An abject lessen
Lo expectations
As number too
Clinging to far-fetched promise
Toil it issues
The cant of superdelicates
The sulky left over
And faltering last rights
Uptight a bout
Weather we have it
In US

Stop Repeat Offenders - Do NOT Re-elect Them POLITICAL BUTTONThis is at least the turd poem of mine that has featured the metaphor of constipation.  As a trained nutritionist and poet, I can’t help but notice the metaphorical parallels of Americans having the smallest poops in the world and having a constipated democracy.  The highly processed American political diet, dangerously low in moral fiber, has created an unhealthy buildup of whatever it is that makes the American electorate want to let loose the half-digested pablum of which it is fed up too hear.  The bowels of American democracy are grumbling.  Perennially high cynicism with mainstream, centrist politics has reached new highs.  APATHY - The Deadliest Weapon of Mass Destruction POLITICAL BUTTONAnd lo, the constipated political party elites have built up blockages creating no sane path to a functioning democracy, that is, a democracy that actually reflects the will of the people.  The bankruptcy magnate Donald Trump and corporate-owned aristocrat Hillary Clinton have the highest negative ratings of any two presidential candidates in modern history.  The disconnect that they represent between privileged power and the will of the people captures most of what is poopy about American electoral politics.  Don't Laugh, He's Paid For [politician] POLITICAL BUTTONHillary Clinton is beholden by corporate persons of the unhuman kind.  Donald Trump trumpets his freedom from a moneyed world precisely because he was born, raised and romps in a moneyed world.  Irony futures must be having a field day!  Still, the citizen-consumers of America are scared shitless of being number two in even the littlest weighs; and bounteous demagoguery is the cheap consolation price afforded voter and non-voter alike. While it’s easy to moan and groan about the lack of inspirational candidates in electoral politics, this is a function — or dysfunction — of non-electoral politics. The sum total effect of non-electoral and electoral politics is as Thomas Jefferson stated: A ballot is like a bullet. You don't throw your ballots until you see a target, and if that target is not in reach, keep your ballot in your pocket. Malcolm X quote POLITICAL BUTTON“The government you elect is the government you deserve.” Of coarse, this hole constipated citizenry thing won’t change until citizens give a shit.

BOTH Parties Are Revolting, Why Aren't You? POLITICAL BUTTONMay you find an outlet in irregular politics to make the world a better place.

POEM: A Truth Foul

If you should believe
The hole truth
And nothing
A butt the truth
You may well be
Full if it
Perfectly primed
For letting go
Unable to be taken
Any more
By a singular won
Given
By an other

This poem, like many of my poems, can be understood (or misunderstood) many ways.  Mostly, this is a poem about both hubris and hope.  If we are so full of ourselves in our ability to ascertain the truth and we are skeptical enough to find believing nothing as a dominant mode, then we may very well dangerous to others seeking truth.  Hubris is the blinding arrogance of our own experience of truth as the dominant mode.  This is typically matched by a substantial discounting of others’ experience of truth.  Hubris is cynicism producing and the enemy of hope.  Hope is able to blossom when our perspective is genuinely open to others’ experiences and whatever current ideology we hold is alive enough to grow in the light of the living truth in other living beings.  This is typically paired with a humble attitude toward our own limited body of experiences.  I see true humility as a right-sizing of our place and role in the world (and universe).  True humility, as most commonly viewed, is not being too big or oversized.  Of course, true humility is also served by us rising up to whatever responsibility matches our particular endowment of moral agency and power.  Being too small is a vote for humiliation, not humility.  The line in the poem, “Unable to be taken,” similarly cuts both ways.  “Being taken,” as duped or cheated, is perhaps one of the most unwelcome and trust betraying realities in life.  I suspect that it is difficult to overestimate the effort we will employ to avoid such situations.  Similarly true, “being taken,” as in being taken by a lover or experience of overwhelming awe, can be profoundly life transforming in previously unimagined ways.  I think that the openness and vulnerability inherently in “being taken” inextricably links both forms/meanings.  Hardening oneself to being duped or cheated likewise hardens one’s ability and likelihood of enthrallment.  By cutting ourselves off from vulnerability and intimacy, we rob ourselves of its upsides, in essence throwing the baby out with the bathwater.  I posit that living a life that is not adept at being taken is a life that to that same degree is not fully lived.   May you find hope and enthrallment that is worth infinitely more than whatever you have been cheated out of life.

POEM: Life As A Breeze

Life peers to me
As a gentle breeze
With fragrant harmonies
In the tenderest victories
Know longer bought a bout by yielding hope
Prospecting in rock
Dead set, vane certainties
Or coarse inclinations
While a sole breath moves through me
Not ever posing
As superior
From above
Securely skeptical
Of won scoffing up
A flunked up humanity
As a praising sneer life experiences
From the cryptic
As a well found cynicism
In the phase of unmerited bounty
On a head of the game
As dead or alive know matter
As inspiring expires
Weather we apprehend or knot
And how ever we reckon our peeps
It is realizable
Still possible
Life sucks
Or with equal viability
Life blows
Seemingly a parent either weigh
A cruel duplicity
Winds of change
Running lapse around you
Leaving won too
Giving no quarter
And only making spare cents
As scorn points
Awe the wile know one wants
Too be still
As the heart beats
Have the time
Know longer wanting
Just deserts
A trial of tears
And fated watering whole
Pooring out
As in is capable
Only too fine life in such delugings
In this tempest of life
Wear wind and water
Meet on earth
In a saucy plan it
Of surf and turf
Wandering whether
Life is fare
A mist such room and bored
With awe of its chinooks and grannies
Ever present ciao time
Reigning in time
And timeless
A mid week prostration
And fateful eras
Wrest a spell
As a right full heir
Fore life is a breeze
Only to be
Bared at see

This poem is about the ethereal nature of human life and the breezy character of the human spirit, where success has more to do with experiencing fragrant harmonies than vane certainties.  Ever Wonder? SPIRITUAL BUTTONMy skepticism about skepticism partners with my playful heart as hope and willingness trump willful crass pragmatism or cynical “realism.”  Apprehending such tender truths is better realized as believing is seeing more so than seeing is believing.  Hope, gratitude, and unmerited generosity open our hearts to seeing better than through stacks of the thickest and most erudite reams of scientific reports.  A fruitful life of the spirit is a prerequisite for a meaningful and abundant life.  In a paraphrase of the Bob Dylan lyric, “You don’t need a whether vane to know which way the wind blows.”  May you follow the winds of the spirit without overly kneading to no from whence it comes or where it goes…

POEM: Going, Going, Gone

Scores of politicians
Going for green
As peddlers of pabulum
Powered buy vicious cycles
Going for blue
As admirals of addled ad mirers
Sailing cynicism
Going for red
As wore, wore, wore
Posing as knew
Gone adieu this
Until nothing left
Gone adieu that
Until nothing right
Going, going
Too too mulch
For tender truths to sprout
Gone
With the win
Un-till effacing larger truths
Over taking
And out with the owed
In with the new
Re-coup-ing
Awe that was lost
A hearty evolution
And overdo revolution

Here’s another election poem taking on money in politics and politicians who use deceptive and hypocritical generalities to engender just enough support from party loyalists, ironically called the “base,” and from the remaining few who vote, enough support from those who dislike the other candidate more.  I will pass on such centrist and cynical electoral politics that serves few except those already in power.  I vote for a hearty evolution where citizen activists create the change they truly want to see the world, with unrepentant idealism.  We can do better!  I pledge to work each day to create a life for myself that when overdue revolutions arise that I won’t be hesitating between my current privilege and a better future for all.  I will plant and cultivate tender truths amidst the excrement that passes for mainstream electoral politics.  Hope is in our nature.  And Top Pun never sells out!

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: 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: How Does It Awe End?

Sow ponderous are wee
The nature of God
And
God of nature
Never two be the same
As one
Awe weighs
Whichever becoming
Created in won mine
Weather mirror mortals
Or I am parish-able being
A quest in during
Too haves
And halve knots
Regarding the spirit of what matters
Neither helled fast
Nor celestially slowed buy death
And aft-er life each claiming
Stern up trouble
Figuring the other’s sale is rigged
Know cents in fallowing
What is billed of star board
Oar all is port
As solid grounds a mast
Exceeded only by wind
Assumptions and renunciations
From the back spew and affront row
A mist
The sow called
Whys
Only wandering
How does it awe end

I am prone to venture into the dangerous arena of speculation on the nature of God in efface of skepticism and the idle juggernaut of cynicism.  This poem is about awe, that and much more.  I view awe as a primary experience of what I would term spiritual or mystical.  I find awe uplifting.  Dissecting life rarely leaves life still living.  In do coarse, most arguments about God or any sublime reality devolve into reductive thinking and defensive emotional stances, regardless of one’s belief in common ground or sacred spaces.  I am skeptical of any view of humans as solely common ground.  I am also skeptical of the races of men to lay claim to the sublime spaciousness that is sacred.  Awe is elusive.  The spirit is like the wind, as we know not where it comes from or where it goes.  I suppose that it would not be an unwarranted characterization to say the awe is my religion.  Of course, awe and wonder are the enemy and antidote to dogmas, in this dogma eat dogma world wee in habit.  Sow, this poem is a bout finding a place where awe does not end, where awe is not exiled from our ideology of the moment.  May you ask wise as you wander, and as you find awe that you are seeking, make more of it.

POEM: A Blinding Faith

Hers was a blinding faith
Sow bright
That it often left her without peer
Few could fathom such countenance
As she left them smiles behind
A grate number are partial
To glean faint moonlight
Mirror dim reflections
Of their dreary world
Rather than stare into one such bright star
Of such undifferentiated light
In discriminate hope
From celestial furnaces
Most believe
Better to be leery
Anywhere near foreboding
Inclement whether
Shoes dropping
On roads paved with good intentions
Or easy devotion to cynical amasses
Having it made
In the shade
Or even to a void in certitude
More at home groping in the dark
Than by a blinding faith

This poem is an ode to faith.  Faith is metaphysical optimism, the blood that beats through wholehearted living.  Faith is only manifest in the mettle of life fully lived, put to the test.  Such a way of life is akin to the scientific method, but its subject is subjectivity, metaphysics, a life lived to discover or confirm how metaphysical optimism can transform living.  Bold testing is the natural course of faith.  Where and how far can faith take us?  Empirical skepticism, the fuel that powers the engine of science, is analogous to this bold testing.  Yet, scientists, who are subjects themselves, often project their own hubris onto subjective matters, leveling “spirituality” for putting forth bold — unfortunately, sometimes bald — faith assumptions for good living.  All the while, there is a nagging tendency to conveniently overlook that there is no such thing as an assumptionless philosophy, even by those subjects operating in scientific endeavors. Yep, as quantum physicists know awe to well, the experimenter changes the experimental results.  In “real world” terms this is simply recognizing that what questions we ask determine the answers.  We, subjects awe, deeply participate in whatever answers will come our way. Look for the answer inside your question --Rumi quote SPIRITUAL BUTTON I, for one, am much more fascinated by the questions of how we transform our lives through the science of living matters, than simply nailing down the science of dead matter, fixated on predictability and control.  Of course, nailing down stuff plagues the human condition in both scientific and metaphysical endeavors.  As Alfred, Lord Tennyson, wrote “There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.”  The question still remains: in which half of the creeds does faith live?  This can only be tested and confirmed by personal discovery, in our living.  While there is a lot of truth in the truism that misery loves company, I would venture to say that passionate optimism is far more attractive than life-sucking cynicism.  This poem is intended to capture the reactions of living in the wake of bold metaphysical optimism, often through an irresistible pull to live fuller lives, and sometimes by shrinking into the seeming security of smaller certitudes.  May you find yourself putting your deepest faith to the test, and in this mettle may you discover many bright and beautiful alloys along the way.

POEM: Innocence — An Owed In A Sense

Her innocence
Was immune to their dis ease
As be wilder
And a tempt
However tempered
Only to be
Dis missed
As just
A guile

His innocence
Deified awe bravery
In the face
Of accusations summoned
As subdude
As never a cur to them
Posing the quest in
Guise will
Be guise

Her bosom leaped
Skipping to a beat
As sir passingly chaste
Giving birth in maternal rapture
Nun the lass
Put out
By those racking up
Scorn points
Holy to be allayed

His heart sang
As here the music
Faced
Temporal forces
Craven reseeding
To proper gate the race
Certifiably birthed
In a heil of ballads
Or castrating scores
Of bullet points
Writing
Him off
In tom foolery or gaiety

Sow
There it is
In a sense
Light as it may be
Worth the wait
Up till
Abated breath

This poem, an ode to innocence, addresses the default cynicism and mistrust in contemporary modern culture.  Innocence is suspect.  Original sin has much more effective branding than original blessing. The unguarded are as likely to be blamed for violations as violators.  Plus, passionate living is often viewed as potentially dangerous.  Freely following one’s passions can often be inconvenient or unnerving to others who might prefer a more staid, predictable environment.  Exercising freedom, by definition, limits the predictability available to those who live alongside you.  Exercise freedom enough to challenge the socializing forces of any given culture and you can expect these forces to provide sanctions designed to exorcise your freedom.  Shame and punishment is a poor trade for the inevitable vagaries of free and passionate living.

This poem, with alternating female and male subjects, also confronts gender roles and their over-sexualization, particularly of women.  Hyper-sexualization is a major means of reducing free human beings to controllable objects, for the proper gating of the race.  Viewing others as free subjects in a shared humanity rather than objects in a controlled environment is essential to the evolution of humanity.

Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of innocence is the shame-free liberation it unleashes.  As a child responds freshly to the world unfolding before them, harmony and positive change become more accessible.  The maturity of experience can bring a disciplined freedom committed to an innocent wildness and natural generosity, even in the face of powerful shaming and sanctions bidding us to sell our freedom for a slice of the take.  May you successfully dance circles around the forces of shaming and punishment, ever inviting others to joyfully join the dance of freedom.

ELECTION POEM: We De-serve More Than One Date a Year

Even with
The sorry lack
He in the capitol arena
He refuse
To beg for change
As riddled with ballots
From a stone throne
Presumed in a sense
As the free mark it
To mock a difference
In hour damn nation
Weather staying qualm
Or carrying on
As beheading
The wrong direction
Right
That’s going to work
Like pulling jobs
Out of a hat
Railroaded
And Rand over
Take
You’re choice
Taking liberties
Wear ever
Whatever
Left
Dying
With boots on
Won’s neck
And arms flailing
In the heir
Violins playing
US again
And masses cry
Weight
For some guardian angle
Following-lite
30 seconds and never the goaled
Promising silver ballots
For the monster knock off of your choice
The leaser of two evils
Billed on platforms not worth one read assent
Rhetorical quests in
Skirting half the populace
Out flanking the body politic
And the only deliverance
Is backwards male junk
Ridden on drossy stationary
Acceding Stepford lives
Androids answering robo calls
Buy passing any hire power
Rebutting humanity
Like sum tally whacker
Awl to govern us
Violating our hides
Out ranking privates
Another poll taken
As nations pawned
And questions razed
From the dread
The answer
Lies
Before us
And incite us
The time is now
To re-wind
These vane choices
Truly bearing
As wee
Vote with our feat
And in-F-able arts
De-serving
More than one date a year
Arrest of our daze
Courting flaccid elections
Feudal proposals
And tickets beyond won’s means
Soully to forge more candid dates
And over power
Our faux
Never miss lead

It’s election day!  This election poem captures the perennially popular cynicism concerning politics, particularly electoral politics, and issues a call for a more encompassing path to redress our collective grievances and embody our shared hopes.  In short, this entails year-round civic engagement where citizens vote regularly by putting some skin in the game and pouring their hearts into public life.  This sort of direct democracy leads by representing ourselves boldly and honestly to one another, backed up by whatever integrity we have in our lives.  We get the democracy we deserve.  Or, in this case, we get the democracy we de-serve.  We stop serving power structures and start serving one another.   This saps the top-down power so fraught with abuse and alluring to those more interested in governing others than governing themselves.  There is no patchwork of half-truths that can stand without the consent of the governed.  Elections are largely contrived of narrow choices pandering to the powers that be and offering mere styles of the status quo.  If we settle for a democracy that only works a day or two a year, and barely that, then we should adjust our expectations commensurately.  Though this is not the only choice: hemmed and hawed candidates or non-participation, not voting.  Whether you vote or not — and I think you should make such a modest investment of time — the body politic is not formed in a day or two.  What we do the rest of our days is decisive.  Work, shop, consume, die may be one way to go, but what price do we pay for our “free” time.  Free people live and give freely.  Free people are the freedom the want to see in the world; they are not waiting for license from others.  I like the saying: activism is the rent I pay for living on this planet.  I occupy this planet first, am a member of the human race second, and a citizen of a particular political jurisdiction/shopping zone thirdly.  If we unabashedly order our lives according to our deepest values and priorities, the sheer existential force of our lives will champion our planet, give rise to a cherished humanity, and even create a firewall against bullshit politics mistaken for a fertile common-wealth.  Of course, like they say, freedom isn’t free.  Being change in the world will exact a price.  And while you may only get what you pay for, there are untolled pleasant surprises along the way.  The only real question is how much are you willing to pay, and how much are you willing to play?