A Doxology For The 9 To 5

The future holds the future
And the past repeats the past
And what’s happening now happens forever
And my heart only flutters every time I blink my eyes
And fetch a glitched-out glimpse
Of an eternal office building
Where we’ve sat in grey-walled graves
Speaking spells of acronyms
That make some ones a million dollars
That make some ones more unlike us
That make some ones forget
That the future holds the future
And that the past repeats the past
And that it all occurs forever
And that amen means so be it
And so we say amen to that

A Doxology For The 9 To 5

Provided the Light Returns

The blue winds blow the black moon past a newly dying sun
And the finer lights of daynight show the ruining’s begun

You’ve witnessed with your feeble eyes grand sights not meant to see
And you’ve conjured with your meager minds frights from which to flee

No, it ain’t too hard to read the signs that say our time is through
And it ain’t too sad to say goodbye to what was me ‘n you

For that blue wind blew a black moon over yonder dying sun
Oh those blue winds and those black moons, good Lord, what have we done?

Provided the Light Returns

The Plowman Shall Overtake the Reaper Yet Still The Heat Death Of The Universe Don’t Take Kindly to Organic Produce

We only find abdominal bliss
After we sign for the package
Left upon our crooked doorstep
By a maudlin brother grim

Our final results were sown tangentially
Once we spat brown, broken seeds
Into the cracked and wicked soil
That sat long waiting for revenge

In our distant, spacious futures
Most make love to ghostly figures
Instead, I peer toward between spaces
And sharply whisper your bright name

The Plowman Shall Overtake the Reaper Yet Still The Heat Death Of The Universe Don’t Take Kindly to Organic Produce

After The Hunt

In thick bed of green grass
On a Minnesota lawn
Hides an Easter egg
From the children’s hungry eyes.

The eggshell is not thick
And within life’s secrets lie.
Yes, inside inside inside
An entire universe resides.

The children never find the egg
And soon the thin shell splits,
Spider cracks expose life’s secrets
To the moist and worm-wrung dirt.

From the Easter egg then sprouts
The fabled Easter tree
With chocolate peanut butter sap
And broad, pastel-colored leaves.

All of life’s sweet secrets there
Sugar silent in the wind.
The mysteries of fertile faith
And marshmallow fowl without end.

After The Hunt

How Emotions Are Made

I am known for being hard to read
it’s not true 
that emotions 
are things 
that happen 
to us.

Can we feel an emotion 
     if we don’t have a word for it?

Emotions are constructed, 
     are not some objective thing, 
          they’re learned and constructed.

the face          is very
in     its     meaning

You have a basic feeling
          — like “pleasant” “unpleasant”
          — and bodily sensations; 
the brain’s always predicting
what those sensations are.
We use emotion concepts 
to make sense 
of our sense. 

We construct emotions.
We are taught these concepts.
     You don’t teach feelings. 
But emotion concepts —

     once you know the word, 
          if you often hear the word, 
               then it becomes automatic, 
                    like driving a car. 

You can learn 
to distinguish 
between distress and discomfort. 

Realize that 
     if the brain uses past 
     to construct present, 
     invest in the present 
     to cultivate new experiences 
     that then become the seeds

     for your future.

* poem found here: https://www.theverge.com/2017/4/10/15245690/how-emotions-are-made-neuroscience-lisa-feldman-barrett

How Emotions Are Made