Weed is Good

The weed mindset - survive and thrive - is yours.

Apr 25, 2022

(Repeat after me.)

I am a dandelion. A weed. Invasive. WATCH OUT!

With my free-solo fingers
In the cracks of your brains
The fissures of your worlds
The slivers of your vision
I will reach for the sky of me.

(This is a stickup.)

Your critiques hold no poison
Your wands no harsh spells
Just a huff of a puff
From the gardener guard
As I scatter thoughts to the air.

(Ad infinitum.)

Relentless dandelion!
Fierce flower of time!
A worker weed in a weedy world
Blown by one’s own cover
The weed seed airs as the fluff fluffs away.

(Idea Sirocco.)

To this rock, I strike
On this pavement, I roost
My tendrils find root in the juice
I dictate to the almanac
Reflect on the face of your destructive trowel.

(Next year.)

My concrete bed
My sunlight lamp
My chaotic fright
My twisting flight
My vulgar presence upon your regimented mind.

(Rude.)

The weed of your nightmare
Blown out and to and away
And goodbye, and good luck
A breath, breathed, exhaled
That’s Me.

(I explode.)

Dandelion mind is the mind of yes can.
To think weed, to live weed
To be weed, can do!
Warrior Weapon in a Too-Same Wasteland
Half on, half off this chaotic realm.

(Mattress indent.)

This weed means war
This weed, an Eyesore
This weed lives all over the stage
Higgledy-lane, Piggledy square
Orchid-sized dreams on a dandelion wage.

(Philosophy’s child.)

If I’m not meant to grow
Then why all this dirt?
If I’m not meant to bloom,
Just turn out the sun.
Make from me the shoes of your walk.1

(Salve’s salvation.)

Most combative
Most likely to
Most often is
Most am
The Most Most

(Repeat until garden is full.)

Remember: No good weed goes unpunished
Push through
Push back
Push up
Push on.

Yours in tiny thought,

Janeen

This week’s amends…

Today’s special words are a wonderful poem (below). If you prefer to have it read to you by the poet, here is a beautiful thing that does just that.

SINGULARITY
by Marie Howe
          (after Stephen Hawking)
Do you sometimes want to wake up to the singularity
we once were?
so compact nobody
needed a bed, or food or money —
nobody hiding in the school bathroom
or home alone
pulling open the drawer
where the pills are kept.
For every atom belonging to me as good
Belongs to you.   Remember?
There was no   Nature.    No
them.   No tests
to determine if the elephant
grieves her calf    or if
the coral reef feels pain.    Trashed
oceans don’t speak English or Farsi or French;
would that we could wake up   to what we were
— when we were ocean    and before that
to when sky was earth, and animal was energy, and rock was
liquid and stars were space and space was not
at all — nothing
before we came to believe humans were so important
before this awful loneliness.
Can molecules recall it?
what once was?    before anything happened?
No I, no We, no one. No was
No verb      no noun
only a tiny tiny dot brimming with
is is is is is
All   everything   home