Traversing the wild caverns of shared sentience is by far the most noble goal I've yet heard for 2025. Thank you, Lisa. I had a few moments this morning to dust of my poetry pen and chose to write about the cult of gender.
***
We all come in wonder-filled,
wholly wild,
fiercely free
of the barbed wire of linear ideas.
Not yet seared by the branding of the binary,
primed to organically express
our divine feminine and masculine
from an essential core,
no less and no more
than nature would have us.
But no sooner have we arrived
than we’re assigned a fixed point
on a straight line.
A sticking point where most learn to survive,
but never fully thrive,
because
survival is conditioned on forgetting one’s wholeness,
accepting the oppression of fragmentation,
the indignities of objectification and gender limitation.
This unrelenting demand for full compliance --
without hesitation --
as reinforced by our collective participation
in the top-down obfuscation
enables this most unnatural form
of violence against creation.
Even the most privileged amidst this contrivance
are every bit as imprisoned as the least.
Bonded by chains of coercion, in uneasy reliance.
Strained to bursting with the suppression of truth,
" . . . longing for feral release." I can't even tell you how delighted it made me to see that you posted a poem, Keith . . . and what a poem it is! Every line spoke to me, but I think these will just keep on speaking, even after I step away from my computer: "no sooner have we arrived / than we’re assigned a fixed point / on a straight line. / A sticking point where most learn to survive, / but never fully thrive, / because / survival is conditioned on forgetting one’s wholeness." How would you feel about me restacking your poem to Notes?
This is absolutely beautiful, Keith. A powerful poem full of wisdom, conviction, insight and great creative beauty. It is imminently publishable. I would love to read it in all the halls of power, where the prison of dualistic and binary thinking seem particularly strong and oppressive.
Thanks so much for this kind feedback, Larry. And I agree, the halls of power - and the mindsets of many in power - are prisons made impenetrable by ignorance and fear. I think that may be what led Audre Lorde to so wisely declare that poetry is not a luxury!
Keith! So wonderful to see you and your work here again! This is a powerful poem, from the "wonder-filled / wholly wild / fiercely free" entrance to the strained, truth-suppressing finish. Thank you for writing and sharing with us! Happy 2025 to you, friend.
Lisa, I sat down with one thought and the journey of writing led to another. This poem I likely will come back to again and again, trying to get it just right?
Voices
^
As we crested into rare Alpine zone,
Southwestern Virginia Appalachian mountains,
we looked behind, beyond and between.
You said “I want to climb higher and higher,
Never stop, peak after peak.”
And you did, climbing so high,
until you were gone from sight.
I felt content lying in the meadows,
serenaded by Mountain Laurel and Rhododendron blooms,
the urge to go slowly crashing into urgency and busy.
Oh wow, Larry, this is so special! I love how you pulled me in with the story of contrast between you and your friend, the tortoise and the climber. I forgot I was reading a poem - I was just there with you, nodding my head, feeling alongside you. And this rings so true: "the voices outside the walls can be loud / but never as fierce of as constant / as the inner monologue on repeat." The culture teaches us to hustle and stay busy and strive and be perfect, and it really doesn't have to keep repeating that lecture for ever - just long enough that we learn to keep delivering it to ourselves. What a poem! If you keep polishing, I'd love to read future drafts!
Thank you Lisa! I can be a terrible polisher of poems, but this one I will commit to! I already noticed a typo! Thank you for your abundant and so essential affirmation.
I love how this poem keeps bringing me to different interpretations, Larry. I can imagine this being a poem about two human companions, or about separate parts of self clashing and diverging. I have an inner critic/tyrant/malcontent who works from a very similar script. I'm trying to love it nonetheless (a work in progress). I smiled and softened at the image of lying in the meadows of the Appalachians, serenaded by rhododendron and mountain laurel, so lovely.
Thank you Keith for your kind, generous and gracious comment. You do that so well! This poem is likely two poems combed into one and at some point they may become their own. My inner critic takes vacation from time to time, but always seems to return! One day! I love what you have been writing and sharing on your site! Keep up the powerful work!
I feel this, Rebekah...it's awful how, because of the internalized oppression of our frenetically productivity-obsessed culture, those spike proteins attach to guilt when we don't have a "valid excuse" to do what we really want. Sigh. I felt the energy shift of the post-holiday return to biz as yoozh today...acutely painful, the palpable uptick in pace and collective disembodiment. I'm so glad you got some guilt-free time in your jammies (which, btw sounded SO much like how I would have spent my unstructured time).
Lisa, you have hit the proverbial nail right on the head in this one, at least for me. Your poem is wonderful, and so peiercing. This line "and bend instead/to my heart’s own rhythm. " shook me in its applicability and precision. Your prompy is remarkable, and has my mind running and scrambling at all the ways I and others work on things, through therapy, prayer, meditation, faith, growth, mistakeds, failirues, successes and so on, and the messages embeedced trbogjh a life still come rushing forwarfd: "I'm not good enough; I need to do more; It's my fault; I could have done this better..."
I share your world view, and I expect many others do as well. Keep on poeting and prompting!
You are more than good enough, friend! 🧡 But I am well acquainted with that voice, too. Thank you for your kind words! May you be (may we all be) so kind to yourself, as well.
Haha, I love this! I think we all have a visa for those lands. Also, your poem is a welcome revelation because I've always lamented the lack of words that rhyme with my name. "Pizza" has always seemed to me like the closest thing, and who wants to be Pizza Lisa? "Visa" is a more intriguing option.
Perfection is definitely an enemy of fun (and probably also of compassion, wisdom, curiosity, clarity, relaxation, surrender, etc)! Funny how it can still get its claws in us.
The culture of perfectionism was instilled in my childhood… unconsciously though. Years later in therapy I was “diagnosed” with it. I hadn’t even realized how pervasive it was to my every goal and belief. Boy, am I glad I escaped that myth! Glad that you did too. But as you mentioned, it still rears its ugly head at times and I must put it back where it belongs… in the box of things that don’t serve me.
Ohhh, I love that last sentence - "I must put it back where it belongs . . . in the box of things that don't serve me." So good! And maybe it did serve you (I think it did serve me, anyway) at certain points in the past. Sometimes, especially in childhood, survival requires us to play along with the broader culture or with a family culture or a relationship pattern. I try to remember that the perfectionist parts of me are scared little kids, so I pat them on their sweet heads and talk nicely to them before tucking them back in the box. Thank you so much for sharing your experience and insight, Korie!
True, Lisa. Our ego serves us when we are young as well… but once our awareness realizes its pitfalls, we must learn not to listen to it as much. Similar with perfectionism - we just don’t listen as much.
As far as ministering to the different parts of ourselves - you are spot on. When I learned to love ALL of the parts of me rather than trying to be rid of them, I became free. ♥️
Lisa, this is beautiful: "I try to remember that the perfectionist parts of me are scared little kids, so I pat them on their sweet heads and talk nicely to them before tucking them back in the box." Ah, another splendid tool!
A standing ovation Korie! It is amazing, when someone refets to me as a perfectionist, I react in amazement and think “who, me?” But then I realize in my feeling that it is never quite good enough, I am in fact perfectionisting!
Such an enjoyable and thought provoking read! I've lived in other countries for short periods of time (Germany, Austria, and Vietnam), and there is much to appreciate about each one. I'm tied to Kentucky until my kids are grown, but it's fun to imagine what might come or where I might go after that.
I understand as Laurie and I stayed in Frederick, Maryland for 26 years with no moving around but now the "boys" are 32 and 34, so we are foot loose and fancy free. Just arrived yesterday here in Mexico. ay-yay- yay!
Traversing the wild caverns of shared sentience is by far the most noble goal I've yet heard for 2025. Thank you, Lisa. I had a few moments this morning to dust of my poetry pen and chose to write about the cult of gender.
***
We all come in wonder-filled,
wholly wild,
fiercely free
of the barbed wire of linear ideas.
Not yet seared by the branding of the binary,
primed to organically express
our divine feminine and masculine
from an essential core,
no less and no more
than nature would have us.
But no sooner have we arrived
than we’re assigned a fixed point
on a straight line.
A sticking point where most learn to survive,
but never fully thrive,
because
survival is conditioned on forgetting one’s wholeness,
accepting the oppression of fragmentation,
the indignities of objectification and gender limitation.
This unrelenting demand for full compliance --
without hesitation --
as reinforced by our collective participation
in the top-down obfuscation
enables this most unnatural form
of violence against creation.
Even the most privileged amidst this contrivance
are every bit as imprisoned as the least.
Bonded by chains of coercion, in uneasy reliance.
Strained to bursting with the suppression of truth,
longing for feral release.
" . . . longing for feral release." I can't even tell you how delighted it made me to see that you posted a poem, Keith . . . and what a poem it is! Every line spoke to me, but I think these will just keep on speaking, even after I step away from my computer: "no sooner have we arrived / than we’re assigned a fixed point / on a straight line. / A sticking point where most learn to survive, / but never fully thrive, / because / survival is conditioned on forgetting one’s wholeness." How would you feel about me restacking your poem to Notes?
Thanks so much, friend. I'm so delighted by your delight! Thank you for wanting to restack it (and for asking)...yes, feel free <3
This is absolutely beautiful, Keith. A powerful poem full of wisdom, conviction, insight and great creative beauty. It is imminently publishable. I would love to read it in all the halls of power, where the prison of dualistic and binary thinking seem particularly strong and oppressive.
Thanks so much for this kind feedback, Larry. And I agree, the halls of power - and the mindsets of many in power - are prisons made impenetrable by ignorance and fear. I think that may be what led Audre Lorde to so wisely declare that poetry is not a luxury!
Amen, Keith. And like Lisa, I’d love to restack in an upcoming writing piece I plan to share. Let me know if that is okay!
Thank you, Larry...yes, happy to have you restack (thank you!).
Keith! So wonderful to see you and your work here again! This is a powerful poem, from the "wonder-filled / wholly wild / fiercely free" entrance to the strained, truth-suppressing finish. Thank you for writing and sharing with us! Happy 2025 to you, friend.
Thanks so much for this warm welcome back, Rebekah! So glad to finally wend my way back in. I'm grateful for your feedback and so glad to "see" you <3
Lisa, I sat down with one thought and the journey of writing led to another. This poem I likely will come back to again and again, trying to get it just right?
Voices
^
As we crested into rare Alpine zone,
Southwestern Virginia Appalachian mountains,
we looked behind, beyond and between.
You said “I want to climb higher and higher,
Never stop, peak after peak.”
And you did, climbing so high,
until you were gone from sight.
I felt content lying in the meadows,
serenaded by Mountain Laurel and Rhododendron blooms,
the urge to go slowly crashing into urgency and busy.
^
We walked many trails together,
Until our paths diverged,
and our journeys led to conflicting
destinations of mind, heart and spirit.
The climber and the tortoise,
companions once now faded from view.
^
In the slowness of the journey,
I hear it every day:
“Move faster, do more, be better…
It’s your fault; why can’t you be like…
If only you weren’t so scattered and spacey.”
A scroll of self-recrimination and loathing.
^
The voices outside the walls could be loud,
but never as fierce or as constant
as the inner monologue on repeat,
always managing to find its way out
of the attic of my emotional storage,
years of compassion and love often
just harbors in a storm.
Oh wow, Larry, this is so special! I love how you pulled me in with the story of contrast between you and your friend, the tortoise and the climber. I forgot I was reading a poem - I was just there with you, nodding my head, feeling alongside you. And this rings so true: "the voices outside the walls can be loud / but never as fierce of as constant / as the inner monologue on repeat." The culture teaches us to hustle and stay busy and strive and be perfect, and it really doesn't have to keep repeating that lecture for ever - just long enough that we learn to keep delivering it to ourselves. What a poem! If you keep polishing, I'd love to read future drafts!
Thank you Lisa! I can be a terrible polisher of poems, but this one I will commit to! I already noticed a typo! Thank you for your abundant and so essential affirmation.
I love how this poem keeps bringing me to different interpretations, Larry. I can imagine this being a poem about two human companions, or about separate parts of self clashing and diverging. I have an inner critic/tyrant/malcontent who works from a very similar script. I'm trying to love it nonetheless (a work in progress). I smiled and softened at the image of lying in the meadows of the Appalachians, serenaded by rhododendron and mountain laurel, so lovely.
Thank you Keith for your kind, generous and gracious comment. You do that so well! This poem is likely two poems combed into one and at some point they may become their own. My inner critic takes vacation from time to time, but always seems to return! One day! I love what you have been writing and sharing on your site! Keep up the powerful work!
Covid exposures are the
perfect excuse to do more
of what I do already
which is turn down invites
sit around in my jammies
work puzzles
stoke the fire
go for solo rambles
fill my ears with podcasts both
nutritious and junk
and incrementally let my car
get drifted in
until loads of premeditation
would be required to go anywhere
which of course I shouldn’t.
.
But then comes the day when
I realize I won’t be getting sick
and that crack gets wedged with
the most insidious of spike proteins
(the ones that crown
particles of guilt)
and they hold open the door
for each other and I am quickly
overwhelmed
.
and I might still be in my jammies
but not without knowing
it’s wrong.
No, no, no, jammies are never wrong! But I feel this all the same! ❤️
I feel this, Rebekah...it's awful how, because of the internalized oppression of our frenetically productivity-obsessed culture, those spike proteins attach to guilt when we don't have a "valid excuse" to do what we really want. Sigh. I felt the energy shift of the post-holiday return to biz as yoozh today...acutely painful, the palpable uptick in pace and collective disembodiment. I'm so glad you got some guilt-free time in your jammies (which, btw sounded SO much like how I would have spent my unstructured time).
“Maybe this will be the year
I become uncivilized,
live in the wilderness
of my limbs,
viscera blood The year I
traverse the wild chasms
of shared sentience.”
Delicious. And may it be so. 🙏
Next time we talk I will tell you what vision this brought to mind.
Thank you! I'm so excited to hear about it!
Lisa, you have hit the proverbial nail right on the head in this one, at least for me. Your poem is wonderful, and so peiercing. This line "and bend instead/to my heart’s own rhythm. " shook me in its applicability and precision. Your prompy is remarkable, and has my mind running and scrambling at all the ways I and others work on things, through therapy, prayer, meditation, faith, growth, mistakeds, failirues, successes and so on, and the messages embeedced trbogjh a life still come rushing forwarfd: "I'm not good enough; I need to do more; It's my fault; I could have done this better..."
I share your world view, and I expect many others do as well. Keep on poeting and prompting!
You are more than good enough, friend! 🧡 But I am well acquainted with that voice, too. Thank you for your kind words! May you be (may we all be) so kind to yourself, as well.
Lisa, Lisa, Lisa
Got her
visa, visa, visa
To travel into the
Arcane lands
Of uncertainty and flux
You may find peace
Resting in the chaotic waters
Of a reality
Where religions and beliefs
Provide no safe jackets
Haha, I love this! I think we all have a visa for those lands. Also, your poem is a welcome revelation because I've always lamented the lack of words that rhyme with my name. "Pizza" has always seemed to me like the closest thing, and who wants to be Pizza Lisa? "Visa" is a more intriguing option.
You have provided your Lisa with a visa to travel in the land of imagination.
Thank you for all you share ❤
Thank you, Tanya! Each comment, poem, or thank you means so much to me! 🧡
❤💜💙
I have a secret: it's WAY more fun to be imperfect! Say yes, instead, to uncivilized, freedom, and imperfection - it truly is a beautiful way. XO
Perfection is definitely an enemy of fun (and probably also of compassion, wisdom, curiosity, clarity, relaxation, surrender, etc)! Funny how it can still get its claws in us.
I agree Danielle! Great wisdom!
The culture of perfectionism was instilled in my childhood… unconsciously though. Years later in therapy I was “diagnosed” with it. I hadn’t even realized how pervasive it was to my every goal and belief. Boy, am I glad I escaped that myth! Glad that you did too. But as you mentioned, it still rears its ugly head at times and I must put it back where it belongs… in the box of things that don’t serve me.
Ohhh, I love that last sentence - "I must put it back where it belongs . . . in the box of things that don't serve me." So good! And maybe it did serve you (I think it did serve me, anyway) at certain points in the past. Sometimes, especially in childhood, survival requires us to play along with the broader culture or with a family culture or a relationship pattern. I try to remember that the perfectionist parts of me are scared little kids, so I pat them on their sweet heads and talk nicely to them before tucking them back in the box. Thank you so much for sharing your experience and insight, Korie!
True, Lisa. Our ego serves us when we are young as well… but once our awareness realizes its pitfalls, we must learn not to listen to it as much. Similar with perfectionism - we just don’t listen as much.
As far as ministering to the different parts of ourselves - you are spot on. When I learned to love ALL of the parts of me rather than trying to be rid of them, I became free. ♥️
What a beautiful definition of freedom!
Lisa, this is beautiful: "I try to remember that the perfectionist parts of me are scared little kids, so I pat them on their sweet heads and talk nicely to them before tucking them back in the box." Ah, another splendid tool!
A standing ovation Korie! It is amazing, when someone refets to me as a perfectionist, I react in amazement and think “who, me?” But then I realize in my feeling that it is never quite good enough, I am in fact perfectionisting!
Very enjoyable and completely relatable. Lisa, you may enjoy reading this lady's point of view. https://kirstenpowers.substack.com/p/the-way-we-live-in-the-united-states
Such an enjoyable and thought provoking read! I've lived in other countries for short periods of time (Germany, Austria, and Vietnam), and there is much to appreciate about each one. I'm tied to Kentucky until my kids are grown, but it's fun to imagine what might come or where I might go after that.
I understand as Laurie and I stayed in Frederick, Maryland for 26 years with no moving around but now the "boys" are 32 and 34, so we are foot loose and fancy free. Just arrived yesterday here in Mexico. ay-yay- yay!