Welcome

(Thank you Lina Rodriguez) 

BOJ 

A “BOJ” is a job description for someone who doesn’t want a JOB.  

Elements

1. Exclusively devoted to self-appointed tasks.

2. Task selection largely but not exclusively, based on whim, necessity, and domestic tranquility. 

3. Task completion assessed, largely but not exclusively, by criteria specified in the unconscious. 

4. The capacity for daydreams and fantasy shall not be denied.  Infractions of this rule are punishable by imaginative constriction and weltschmerz. In severe cases by banishment to the deserts of soul-shriveling competitive self-aggrandizement. 

Knowledge Skills and Abilities

1. Sense of humor is essential and capacity for hilarity, absurdist humor, laughter, and affectionate banter is preferred. 

2. Capacity for frequent breaks from objective reality is preferred. 

3. Capacity to avoid delusion and self-censorship, is preferred. 

4. Capacity to tolerate ambiguity, paradox, and weirdness (Not including offensive behavior) is preferred.   

Tasks 

1. Cook: experiment with multiple foods in various adventurous combinations to find tasty meals that don’t cause indigestion. 

     a. Try out new cheap interesting restaurants. 

     b. Should funding permit, restaurants and wines shall be enjoyed without regard to expense. 

     c. Maintain adequate supply of digestive enzymes. 

2. Read: Follow the train of thought through various fields and authors who satisfy criteria mentioned above. 

    a. Be in love and engage the author. 

    b. Wrestle with the author but do no harm to thought. 

    c. Go where the writing moves you. 

          c.1 When lost, stop, and return to the author.       

          c.2 When irretrievably lost, return to self by way of an alternative pleasure of your choosing.

3. Conversation: With many and varied people with emphasis on shared interests and toleration of disagreement.

     a. Enjoy disagreement through observation and learning.

     a. Consult Tanja’s wise advice at Soul Forte on dealing with monologues. 

4. Cat: Care and feeding of, watch it until it gets off the book in progress. 

     a. Should the cat walk across the keyboard when typing, pause and see if has typed anything        inspirational. (asoif hekvj baoijcsaaaaadpokv a, for example)

     b. Follow special instruction number XIV on cats and computers at the Cyber-Feline-Center’s website.  (Construct said website and get instant consideration for promotion to self-supporting artist.) 

5. Dog: Meet and walk friendly neighborhood dogs as required.  

     a. Observe dog’s people are generally friendly.   

     b. Issue treats only with human permission.  

6. Paint: Look long and purposefully.   

     a. Find visual relationships.    

     b. Notice mental, emotional and intuitive reverberations.     

     b. Take the time to suspend judgement.  

7. Music:  Listen with full attention, background music is discouraged.   

     a. Variety is preferred, favoritism encouraged.   

     b. Identify ambient sounds and find silence so that it may be filled.   

     c. Notice mental, emotional, and intuitive reverberations.    

     d. Move to the music, play, dance!  

8. Gardening: beds to be maintained with native plants which support local fauna, require minimal care, while being frequent subjects of appreciation.  

9. Add to this BOJ or modify it as needed. 

About the Author

Tony Bates grew up in different parts of the world following his father’s postings in the Foreign Service. Now living in Alexandria, Virginia, he is a retired government bureaucrat, house husband, part time writer, gardener, and community volunteer. Both a self-styled "Citizen of Nowhere” and a concerned citizen of this remarkable country. 

Job description  

Our dynamic team has an opening for an Acceptance Mentor.  

The ideal candidate for this job will be proficient in acceptance of most of what life has to throw at them. 

Qualifications will include: 

     1. An exceptional ability to love what is.

     2. Facility at holding in compassion those people to whom the applicant would formerly have granted a         Darwin Award.

     3. Strong ability to sit quietly for long stretches without feeling hopeless about the state of the world. 

Applicant should be spiritually flexible, low in expectations, and high in energy to do the next right thing.  

Excellent communication, self- compassion, and loving-kindness skills are required.  

The successful applicant will be one who can communicate optimism without "blowing sunshine", and who is willing to be joyful, though they have considered all the facts.   

This position requires a consistent willingness to argue with reality, lose that argument 100% of the time, and help others to embrace the ambiguity of loving the mutilated world.  

No advanced degree is required, but some evidence of wisdom is preferred in order to be considered for this position.

About the Author

Kim Langley is an experienced professional trainer, seminar speaker, and coach who has conducted thousands of programs for corporations, professional groups, agencies, and associations with outstanding results. She is passionate and knowledgeable about emotional intelligence, the science of optimism, generations in the workplace, and conflict management.  She is the author of a book on grief, entitled Send My Roots Rain: A Companion on the Grief Journey and published by Paraclete Press, and is a spiritual director/companion through the Haden Institute.

Male Song

             In Memory of MK 

You’ve been breaking into song

— unheard of before. 

I hear the sound of Bruce Springsteen 

over headphones. He is preaching without

the preaching. Amazing Grace moved me, Barack Obama 

losing his words and finding them again. His

voice always catches me. I can hear the note of

forgiveness, but also anger and love, so much love.

Maybe men sing without their voices many times

and I never heard them except in song.  

Anselm Kiefer

 “Drawn to the outsiders 

of the Old Testament,

my Ado is caught in 

the forever of history. 

Salt adorns the canvas

— people are physically  

affected by my greys + whites. 

Monochrome hell of 

Sodom and Gomorrah, 

it reminds me of the 

20th century really. 

Why? Because we  

have to look back,

always. I do

it for them.” 

Boy, Frog, Venice 

On Charles Ray’s Sculpture at the Punta della Dogana (now removed)  

He is all white

He is alright 

He will stay 

He is the new attraction 

At night under glass 

for protection 

Is he lonely? 

Or is it just me? 

He's got a view 

one of the prettiest 

in Venice I envy him for 

just being what 

he is wanting 

nothing more. 

About the Author

Tanja Kummerfeld studied American and Italian Literature at the Universities of Hamburg and Delaware. She is currently on a strange journey and doesn’t know yet where it will take her. Writing and painting are ways of explorations for her. Sometimes she dares to call herself a poet, other times she is a secretary who happens to write.

The New Women of Proverbs 31

Oh Man, what are you doing? 

have you learned yet to look 

with wonder at Women? 

let their resilience inspire you: 

an excellent Woman is easy to find 

and yet each is unique as coral, 

and so every one is worth more 

than all the banks of Geneva. 

her partners are many and diverse, 

some romantic, others platonic, 

and each of them benefits in her orbit, 

trusting her to light their paths. 

she is sometimes overlooked 

and though her work is often undervalued 

still she communicates clear boundaries 

                                                            and keeps them. 

through her casual example 

she teaches all children

the value of rest, challenging capitalist 

golden notions of pristine productivity. 

her mind is full of ideas 

and still she seeks more knowledge, 

but experience has also taught her 

the treasure of unusable minutes. 

she says yes, and 

                                           also no. 

after she’s worked a full day 

she goes the fuck to sleep. 

when she wakes, she welcomes 

the morning news and is not 

afraid to be angry and speak her mind, 

demanding justice for the rights of the under-served. 

you’ll see her smile 

as she dresses to please 

herself: jeggings, jewels, or both: 

gives no actual farts what others think. 

surely she could make her own clothing 

and knit elaborate scarves, and darn socks, 

but sometimes she just shops 

recognizing the limits of her energy. 

she does wear literal clothes, 

and not just virtues, but she also adorns 

herself with all of the feels, 

freely displaying her emotions. 

charm can be deceptive, 

and beauty is subjective, 

but women who speak the truth 

should be praised; 

instead many call her intimidating, 

bossy, or moody, and wag 

their fingers as she walks away, 

she shakes off their foolish disapproval. 

she seeks the company of friends. 

without jealousy or despondency, 

she cheers her sisters on, 

celebrating their victories as her own. 

Oh Man, these Women surround you, 

                 open your mind, 

drink in their varied magnificence. 

and listen to their wisdom.

About the Author

Joann Renee Boswell is a teacher, mother, photographer and poet currently living in Camas, Washington, with her partner and three children. Joann loves rainy days filled with coffee, books, handholding, moody music and sci-fi shows. Some places she’s been published include Mothers Always Write, For Women Who Roar, The Martian Chronicle, and VoiceCatcher. Her first book of poetry, Cosmic Pockets, was published by Fernwood Press in May 2020. Learn more and reach out at joannrenee.com. 

Bull in a China Shop

Neatly stacked,

Delicate patterns and pieces

Arranged with care,

And a quiet where dust slowly settles

At first, some small stirring --

      -- A horn, teacup? –-

Then shifting, uneasy, unsettling

Plates, bowls, flanks and massive head 

Finally, the waited for almost erotic smash

Through everything fragile, careful, precious

I could say 'poor thing’

But he’s having the time of his life 

Fire Pieta

                 Sonoma County, CA, Oct. 2017

Sitting legs wide open on the black ground,

She cradles the burned llama

Against the fullness of her body. 

An officer with a shotgun

Approaches in the lower left of the photo,

Come to perform the final mercy. 

She waits. 

Her eyes are lowered.

I imagine she is rocking, 

Crooning. 

Three Hummingbirds

Absorbed in a book, in a garden,

Surprised by a loud, close thrum

And the suspended green --

Did she smell the nectar in this poem?

Like an angel, or soul,

The hummingbird bathing in the fountain

Shattered spray and light

As it folded this moment open.

Watering flowered sage,

She stopped mid-air and sipped from the flow.

I stood joy-struck, still as an acolyte,

My silence more than thank you. 

About the Author

Ruah Bull has been a professional in the healing arts since 1977. She completed her spiritual direction training in 2001 and has been working internationally with individuals and groups on both the Christian and New Spirituality paths. A Catholic, she has deep roots and training in Celtic and Native American spirituality. Ruah’s greatest joy is supporting folks in exploring their unique relationship with Holy Mystery. Ruah lives with her husband and fur baby in Massachusetts. Visit Ruah’s website at www.ruahbull.blogspot.com.

Local Zen Center Declares in Press Conference: Zigzags Produce Epiphany   

For map listening:  

I zigzag tomorrow plus  

Paint my way forward

How to Speak the Country inside Me

The official languages of the country inside me

are Enthusiasm

and Sadness at unmet ideals. 

German and English, too,   

but like the grantig quality of Austrian German

or the “spend time” commercialism of English,  

the tone of my country’s languages is critique.   

I move my country-body  

around this Americanah  

and I am often not amazed, not amused 

but disheartened   

All the ideals we brought here --  

How did we so profoundly miss the mark?   

We forgot that people matter more than money   

So, the people in my inner country are crying  

and wondering where to locate this country  

inside of that one.  

An Autobiography of IRENE LOY

All caps

An adult name

A stand-for-my-ancestors name

I contain multitudes

In eight letters.

IRENE - Honoring my maternal great-grandmother, her middle name is my first. Anna Irene Leopard.   

LOY - My maternal grandfather’s name, uninterrupted by my father’s willing ignorance of me. Strong name. The Loy nose. Only Leopard -- Leppert -- would have been better. My maternal great-grandfather’s name: Harvey Leopard. The cleft in my chin, sourced at long last in old photographs of him. I miss these two, Anna and Harvey, though we never met.    

IRE - I’ve been angry for a long time. Righteous, clear anger, that I was expected to trade out my wants and needs for love and survival. That I was abandoned. That those meant to protect me took a hands off policy. I did well in school, so my pain took a backburner. Like a hearth fire, like these letters, I stand up straight. I’ve been burning with this for a long time, and my justice will come.   

NOR - I am neither wife nor mother.   

LONE - “In my head, in my head I get lonely sometimes.” - Rainbow Kitten Surprise   

REIN - Chinese astrology: the Earth Horse. I am proud, prone to discontent. Just like my Leo soul. I will not be tamed, but I have learned to let myself be loved.   

RIOL - I have been known to ruffle feathers, to disturb the sediment, to burn the house down. The trouble is my seeing things differently than those so able to wound me.    

LORE - I could write a whole dissertation on the study of story. In fact, I am.   

LOIN - Whew, this one took a long time! My own sexuality, at last reclaimed.  

LYRE - Oh, sing the stories in embodied expression! I am one made for this.    

ORE - Mining my depths, coming up with this throughline: Celebration.    

LIEN - This body, this breath, this voice on loan! Until I live my passionate purpose.

About the Author

Irene Loy holds an MFA in Dramatic Writing from the University of New Mexico. She is currently a PhD candidate with Transart Institute and Liverpool John Moores University. She has written poetry since high school and was once a finalist in the annual Bar 13 Slam Poetry competition. She's a dramatic theorist and poet-playwright. May you enjoy these offerings! 

I Go Among Trees

                  after Wendell Berry

I go among trees;

Guardian 

Witness 

Ancestor. 

What do I know and 

What have I seen 

compared to you? 

You knew me when I was 

so young and lost 

in my own backyard. 

You were the lighthouse 

that guided me back. 

We piled compost at your feet, 

and buried animals under your arms. 

You took the lightning strikes 

on yourself, and 

safe-guarded Home. 

She Knows Many Wisdoms:

Reflections on Artemis 

Diotimus, in "Prayer to Artemis," writes, in essence, that from the virgin our children learn what in fact are survival skills. Well now, isn't that interesting? The term virgin, of course, means one who is whole in and of themself. This despite our popular insistence that it's all about sex, of which that is only one example. So Artemis -- she knows many wisdoms, integrated into herself, and then shared back out into the world. We, her children, benefit. 

Water Galaxy

She loves the rock and the water. 

Home from the hunt, that's where she goes. 

With so much heat focused 

on survival,

it's bliss to sink into the

crystalline galaxy of cool

water at the shore. 

To let the overwhelming power

of something her equal

offer buoyancy. 

Artemis goes swimming. 

*This writing on Artemis draws from two poems: "Prayer to Artemis," by Diotimus, translated by Stephanie Burt (Diotimus was a Greek Stoic who lived around 100 BC.); and "Excarnation" by Kim Parko, both published in Poetry, Spring 2022. "She loves the rock and the water" is from Parko's "Excarnation."

About the Author

A native of northeast Ohio, Virginia Douglas lives in a bungalow occasionally mistaken for a folk art museum. It's a charmed life. Charmed, that is, by the inspiration of books, travel souvenirs, unruly cats and gardens, and the blessing of family and friends.  

Answer to Coyote  

Coyote laughs at me

and welcomes me

at the same time

He doesn't show the way

but helps you find yourself the best one to follow 

He never takes you seriously

but listens to you with passion 

Inhale 

you need to do it for a living 

you can use it for joy  

     getting a beautiful smell into your lungs

you can use it for calming down

    your agitated mind    

    your exhausted body

inhale to get your loudest shout

    to free your anger

Free of Mind

Even if your body is based on the ground

your mind is free to meet the stars

Whatever bad happened to you

stand up and welcome the shine of my smile 

There is motherly love for everybody

Just close your eyes and see

The Harp 

The fine tone of the harp just floats along the air

It drips into my ear like ambrosia into my mouth

Relaxing gets from the ear down through the whole body

My lips get up and I begin to smile

Heaviness falls off of me

Leaving light in body and soul

About the Author

Julia-Théres Donjak loves stories and needlework. With her husband, she lives in an small village in Niedersachsen (Lower Saxony), Germany, in a former farmhouse where she enjoys working in their idyllic garden, looking after their four cats, and taking care of a number of chickens. Although writing on her own since childhood, Julia-Théres never imagined her poetry good enough for publishing.

Long Enough

            at the Arecibo Observatory, Puerto Rico

            before it collapsed  

We’ve been here long enough 

for a few pink blossoms 

flung on the grass 

to become multitudes  

long enough to hold 

every sunset in our eyes 

from the first golden light 

to the abundant darkness  

long enough for the moon 

to bulge and drown the stars, 

then shrivel like a raisin  

long enough to forget 

a certain madness 

the calamities of our time  

long enough to study 

squawking and singing birds 

how they returned 

after Hurricane Maria  

long enough to notice 

the altered trees: 

branches missing or broken 

some pressing out leaves 

no matter what  

some bare   

Tripping  

A yellowish smog color 

painted on my breast 

as a watercolorist might: 

a bruise not caused by a brute 

but by tripping  

on a fashionable chair’s leg. 

Is my future condemned 

to caution?  Must I really check 

every possible impediment 

twice over?  Am I “progressing” 

to carry a stick, always?  

Tripping once meant a voyage 

into the great Whole, the void, 

the splendidly unapproachable

 except in that altered state.  

Now, to trip means to stumble 

perhaps plummet, sprain 

bruise, break.  I howled and cursed 

as the pain lashed me. 

Can that be today’s way 

to the One?  

A Virtual Visit to Naqsh-e Jahan Square, Isfahan, Iran  

The sun's rising on our snow 

the air a frigid zero 

here in Vermont's February  

on a screen, we see the Square 

in distant Isfahan 

not any time, but now  

no one wears a coat  

here are a place and a people 

we're taught to fear 

the Square somewhere 

we felt we'd never go  

It's Friday evening to them 

with picnics everywhere  

a father twirls his child 

into his arms   women adjust 

their shimmering headscarves  

The mosque walls around them 

shine with the mathematics 

their ancestors gave the world 

gave us  

Look, they're wearing masks 

just as we must 

for the same plague afflicts us 

our prayer for deliverance 

is the same  

Do we understand 

yet?  

About the Author

Mary Dingee Fillmore writes in all genres. Her poetry is in Atlanta Review, Blueline, Diner, and Main Street Rag. Her 2018 chapbook, Aside from Our Bright Lives, was published by England's Hen Run Press. Mary speaks widely about anti-Nazi resistance, based on her award-winning novel, An Address in Amsterdam.