a sweet spot, a warm, quiet evening,
of a too-soft winter here,
on & of the good Earth,
that tempts the comfortable one
to flirt with forgetting
the hard totality
of this hot and cold, man-made,
loud and brutal World.
Category: kinship
Dickensian Dollar Store Christmas
a version of this essay was first published December 8, 2015
“Christmas is coming,
the goose is getting fat,
please put a penny in the old man's hat,
if you haven't got a penny,
then, a half-penny will do,
if you haven't got a half-penny,
then God bless you.”
I went to the nearest Dollar Store to buy old-fashioned, stringy, silver tinsel for our christmas tree.
All that glitters is not silver or gold, is never ever golden, whether you buy your pretty ornaments or wrapping paper for a buck – or two at Dollar Tree, Walmart, Target, Macy’s or Saks for $5, $10, $30 or $50. The only difference is the retailer’s profit margin — very rarely is there a difference in quality when it comes to seasonal items, disposable items and sundries.
The season of peace and beauty feels very false once you know and remember to never forget that all those beautiful ornaments and decorations adorning almost every American home, restaurant or holiday venue are made by women, children, or men in sweatshops who are breathing in lead dust, paint fumes, plastic glitter, chemicals and pigments often for less than $30 per 12-hour shift; all that beautiful crap then warehoused, shipped, stocked and sold by non-living-wage, multi-job workers in the U.S.
Yet, while I’m there roaming the aisles or in the long line to check-out, I feel an overwhelming sense of community with my fellow city dwellers — the shoppers, the store’s workers and with all the workers of the World — particularly those in Yiwu, Zhezhang, China who are mass-producing a vast majority of all of this shit.
ironically & hilariously,
still made in the USA!
I also feel an overwhelming revulsion of the systems of ‘growth’ and development: capitalism, consumerism, and human and natural resource “management” which are uniquely undeniable in the fluorescent, depressive uniformity of the minimally staffed chaos found in a busy, urban dollar store,
Continue reading “Dickensian Dollar Store Christmas”contemplating intent, consent, kill lists and ceasefire: deer hunting season, regular firearm, November 15 – 30, 2024 Michigan, U.S.
“The assumption that animals are without rights and the illusion that our treatment of them has no moral significance is a positively outrageous example of Western crudity and barbarity. Universal compassion is the only guarantee of morality.”
which was presumed to be of exclusive use of songbirds — especially, eastern bluebirds,
on the land the author occupies
Halloween 2024
“all treatery, no trickery”
Regular firearm, deer hunting season began yesterday in Michigan, United States of America, and the crack of rifles and the blast of shotguns destroy both peace and life.
There is some version of a legalized, defined kill list or belated, legalized “protection list” for nearly every non-human animal being population on Earth. And, for human animal being populations on Earth too.
What defines murder for human beings, of the human animal body?
INTENT.
All Hunting is INTENT – intent to kill.
All animal “livestock” agriculture is INTENT — intent to kill for profit.
Genocide is INTENT.
Continue reading “contemplating intent, consent, kill lists and ceasefire: deer hunting season, regular firearm, November 15 – 30, 2024 Michigan, U.S.”Open Letter to Americans
Dear Americans:
When you finally realize that the solution to the economy — rent and groceries (not the stock market, not your investment portfolio), to health and healthcare, bodily autonomy and reproductive rights, the climate crisis, to environmental destruction — of land, air, and water and biodiversity, to wealth inequality, to systemic racism/white supremacy, to colossal, empire-sized military and police budgets — and endless overt and proxy wars and ongoing GENOCIDE — CAN NOT and WILL NOT be found in the BALLOT BOX — blue or red,
— then what?
then, what will you do? will you hope to ride it out quietly with whatever measure of privilege you possess (white male, white adult, middle-classed, usefully employed in the systems of government or institutions of political or corporate power)?
Will you finally rise up and do the necessary-yet-awful, brave, brutal and hard work to resist and fight — like every dignified human collective across history and even today — like the Palestinians? Like the Lakota, Cheyenne and Arapaho? Like the Maroons of Haiti — or will you be like the Germans — roll over, fall in line, bide your time — hope they come for your neighbor or coworker instead; maybe even turn them in?
This “nation is a massacre”, it always has been
for tens of millions of people right here of and on this land — and for hundreds of millions globally — even if that excludes you and yours (for now).
Enough of this profane American existence.
Enough already.
Continue reading “Open Letter to Americans”399
The Queen, Mother and Grandmother Grizzly Bear,
the iconic Matriarch of Grand Teton National Park & the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem
Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming, US
The iconic and prolific female grizzly bear [399] — a mother and grandmother was in forage with her own eldest adult daughter [610] — also a mother, along with her cubs and grand cubs.
399, pictured here, who should be referred to respectfully as Grand Mother Bear, at the age of 24, in Spring of 2020 birthed four cubs [a rare, large litter no matter the age of the grizzly, but at 24, was truly astounding] was with 610, whom should be called Daughter Bear, who birthed two cubs as well.
All but two of the six cubs were mostly hidden by the deep sagebrush and dense fog.
What wild majesty to behold.
Lodged in my mind’s eye forevermore.
photo by: author
“Grizzly 399” is gone,
and this Autumn, and last, and every season in between have required so much Auden
Continue reading “399”
Hope
one can tell a little
maybe even, a lot
about what “hope” means to someone
as the garden’s fruits and blooms
are winding down,
on verge of frost,
light or hard
in October
will they glean the last remnant of the apples and pears from the trees for sauce, butter or crisp
or will they leave them be
for
the deer,
rabbits
raccoons,
possums
or marmots
will they cut the last of their garden’s
snapdragons, borage,
zinnias, marigolds, amaranth
and bring them indoors to fill vases for their temporary gaze
or will they leave them be
that,
an errant
monarch,
red admiral,
honeybee,
moth
or hummingbird
may find
a hibernation,
migration,
or last supper
meal
a sweet sustenance
an oasis lifeline
a traveling mercy
phenology II
lilacs re-leaf, re-bloom
in October
hummingbird moths feed,
— not cultivars —
in unprecedented re-leaf and re-bloom
October 12, 2024
and simultaneously,
She’s un-be-coming a human be-ing
She’s destined to,
we’re destined to, too
no
need to
tell me, explain
what’s happening
as constant witness,
as constant, remote witness to slaughter,
as constant gardener,
as constant tender,
as constant daughter,
i see.
i recognize.
i know,
Continue reading “phenology II”maybe on the full moon
if you move out of the city
if you move into the country
if you reclaim a meadow
if you plant more than two dozen trees
if you oppose paving the dirt road
if you fill ten bird baths, every single day, until they freeze
if you refuse to mow the clover, plaintain, and dandelion before they set seed
if you sit in silence on the stoop each night, watching
if you turn off every single light before bedtime
if you listen, listen, and listen
if you offer your attention
if you humble your human brain
if you embrace your animal body
if you fall into instinctual kinship
if you are ceaseless in your reverence
if you follow your intuition
maybe the crows will tell their brethren you’re a safe one
maybe the doe will bring her fawns to the salt lick during daylight
maybe the snake will slither under the workbench in the barn while you stand there
maybe the rabbits won’t flee your garden at your footfall
maybe the bats will dance in the twilight sky just above your head
maybe the luna moth will reveal herself to you in that meadow
Continue reading “maybe on the full moon”chosen by swallows, finally
an ascetic’s petitionary prayer, answered
for six consecutive summers, i’ve observed barn swallows enter and inspect the barn — diving and swooping in and out, perching and chattering wholly unbothered by my presence — but not until this, my sixth summer, did they finally deem worthy and decide to make their nest on a joist in this old, ramshackle barn
to experience their nesting is such a tender mercy in the time of remote, yet constant virtual witness and heartrage of genocide, of global horrors and famine — and of the daily unnatural disasters and unrelenting evidence of abrupt, irreversible climate breakdown and biodiversity/ecosystems collapse.
june 9, 2024
1950, Macmillan,
*from the author’s collection of vintage books of North American birds, wildlife and insects
O swallows, swallows, poems are not The point. Finding again the world, That is the point, where loveliness Adorns intelligible things
Because the mind’s eye lit the sun.
Howard Nemerov
Continue reading “chosen by swallows, finally”
she talks to serpents
says they call her out by her name
the author’s window
Continue reading “she talks to serpents”
“The Earth Is My Government”
“The Earth is Our government.”
“We are not talking about any political solution. We are not talking about politics at all. We are talking about survival. Our survival will be guaranteed by we, the human people, accepting our responsibilities and honoring the Earth and the natural world of which we are a part will guarantee our survival. There are natural laws that we must honor and that we must obey. This is the only way in which can show the rightful honor to The Earth. We must remember that The Earth is the source of all of our life. The Earth takes care of us while we are alive in this form and The Earth takes us back when we have departed to the spirit world. We must remember The Earth. We must remember our spiritual, real power connection to The Earth. We are an extension of The Mother Earth. This is our source of power, not the economics, not the politics, not repressive government, not liberal government. Our source of power is us and our spiritual connection to The Earth and our recognition of that.”
-John Trudell
“Freedom... We’re born into a reality where you have to pay to be born, you have pay to die, and you gotta have money to live. Now where is the free?”
-John Trudell
“Our obligations and our loyalty have to be to the earth, and they have to be to our sense of community and to our people and to our relations. Our obligations and loyalty should not be to a government that will not take care of our needs. Our obligations and loyalty should not be to a government that has proven time and time again that it is the enemy of the people unless the people are rich in dollars. That has been the consistent history of Western civilization and the American Corporate State Government – that’s reality. They are not our friends, they do not care about us. We have to face the reality that we have an enemy.”
-John Trudell
“600 years ago, that word ‘Indian,’ that sound was never made in this hemisphere. That sound, that noise was never ever made … ever. And we’re trying to protect that — the Indian as an identity. … we’re starting not to recognize ourselves as human beings. We’re too busy trying to protect the idea of a Native American or an Indian, but we’re not Indians and we’re not Native Americans. We’re older than both concepts. We’re the people. We’re the human beings.”
-John Trudell
"There is no old way, no new way, there is a way of life. We must live in balance with the earth. We MUST do it. We have no choice....The Earth gives us life, not the American government. The earth gives us life, not the multi-national corporate government. The Earth gives us life, we need to have the Earth. We must have it, otherwise our life will be no more. So we must resist what they do."
-John Trudell
It’s our spiritual responsibility to protect the earth.
-John Trudell
THE EARTH IS OUR GOVERNMENT
crow-hearted
i have a heart for crows.
a Crow died and also lived here
likely dying during or before the brief, but deep snowdrifts of january 2024
and definitely not by predation; Crows are simply too smart for the local feral cat bird-killers (the only worthwhile information that author Jonathan Franzen ever imparted to me) — and work in groups to warn and defend against hawks and owls;
Continue reading “crow-hearted”Degrowth or die-out: an imperative for the insatiable species.
this informal essay was inspired by Jeff Gibbs’ statement posted February 6, 2024;
I publish this, as per — to be publicly accountable and on record.
Development is development is development. All development damages the remaining already profoundly fragmented wilderness-ish habitat no matter what kind of development it is — no matter the seemingly innocuous or good intent: a paved bike path through forest, a solar array in the desert, an ayahuasca retreat center on a river in northern Illinois, a new organic farm.
“If you build it, they will come.” And then never stop coming and building.
We must stop destroying land to build more of anything — we must begin to reclaim and return land to nature and welcome, encourage, champion and personally embody the practices of degrowth.
An example of behavior:
“You should build a little rental cottage on your land over there for supplemental income and to sustain yourself through your golden years.”
– no, i will not build anything there ever — that’s where i set out the salt licks for the deer – by the three apple trees; no, that area is too near to where the blue racer lays her eggs every summer; no! as tempting as that false security is, i will live modestly and reject improvements for improvement’s sake — and embrace flaws and maintenance, and do with what i have — or without. this land is not mine; i merely temporarily co-occupy and humbly and gratefully tend and share this land.
also, there are no more golden years — to quote Beatrix Kiddo, “Bitch, you don’t have a future” — do you understand the science, the projections? let me help you to, i want to.
An opposite example of behavior:
Continue reading “Degrowth or die-out: an imperative for the insatiable species.”definition | author | proof of life:
foremost Earthling, crone,
and mother to a golden boy;
nightly traveler into liminality;
mostly obeisant
to intuition & premonition;
poet, writer;
heart-sleeved,
bleeding heart pessimist;
devoted friend of crows (at last),
meadow-restorer/tender,
& long-lost sister to snakes, bats and coyotes,
deer & bluebird whisperer,
seed saver, food grower,
an admirer and propagator
of lilacs, hydrangeas,
sycamores, mulberries, pawpaws and oaks;
dna-tested kin to goldenrod, milkweed,
bison, cottonwoods, thistle and monarchs;
wader into ephemeral and glacial
lakes and deep snow;
Moon’s luminous, loyal daughter
& Sun’s prodigal, ever-questioning shadow
equally;
devout, ecstatic
desert, forest and river worshipper;
reverent of and humbly deferent to
bear, wolf, moose, elk & bighorn sheep and hummingbirds;
a mountain, canyon, valley,
prairie and beach walker;
i swam and swam and swam my way alive.
Feed the Wildlife! a radical imperative (& request)
please FEED THE WILDLIFE! if you have means to do so — to help our Earthling kin survive and thrive in the extreme temperatures and conditions of winter and summer — and during fall and spring migration
why is this radical?
because we have been instilled and warned to not do this!
but we now need to feed the wildlife we share habitat with — precisely because we’ve destroyed so much of their own habitat — and their preferred and once-abundant wild food and water sources
(but please only set out food for those wild kin who visit or inhabit your yards, balconies, patios or city parks – still, never feed our more-than-human kin in wilderness, or national, federal, state or county parks, forests, natural areas or preserves)
in their favorite spot to feast — the stone slab footprint of a former barn.
Crows are very clean and considerate
more-than-human kin— they prefer to wash their food with water and to wait for their entire family to assemble before eating.
the limineen | earthling, poet & crone 