“... poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives.” --Audre Lorde
Monday, June 24, 2013
Social panic or random acts of kindness what is on trial here is our very sense of ourselves the integration of social into fabric the intelligent cooperation between one and another. A kind of solitary confinement I admit does little to progress a sense of companionable intelligence, intimate or otherwise. We have lost our humanities our fields of study in regard to insight and philosophical growth our notions toward any value driven future. The economics of non-humanism do little to encourage our survival. Earn money now ignore the collateral damage that lingers into later. Oil profits poison food exploited low paid workers industrial production tax breaks. I do not want to eat arsenic in my chicken petroleum products in my bread chemicals on apples petroleum everything environmental damage is cheaper than regulation real workers cannot afford to eat organic I still do not have any health insurance. Too many degrees and not enough business savvy. Sell develop expand buy more crap. There is not enough money in the world to live a decent life one cannot get all the stuff accumulate grow want need and ignore. Don't sell the art let the children starve close the schools abandon literacy education the chance to develop skills. Take out the walking paths dismantle the neighborhoods build your highways for the wealthy to pass through the masses without vision. There is no where else to go. Every place is here this global economic situation the catastrophic experience that is this defining moment. We can talk about local relationships individuals doing good compassion present tense moments of organizing building parks and planting gardens puling weeds feeding hungry kids tutoring and mentoring developing community groups and doing grassroots good. These are all true. We can fix our own neighborhoods maybe our cities and world. Or maybe grass roots are contained by glass ceilings and walls given space but not too much space given encouragement that can only reach simple distances into capital into the future. I can shop local live in a hut talk to my dog tutor kids plant flowers teach people how to write sentences and read paragraphs. But I can't escape the feeling that something has been planted in my brain sparking shocking the tissue pressing down tightening with subtle pressure every time I dream of revolt.
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