I have thought recently about emotional regulation and it’s possible and probable connection with gun shots. While guns are banging we bang our heads against those sudden and erratic but seeming more like a pattern headlines with more head ache than solutions.
In my head, therefore, my solution shook me, as in a solution of other concerns. My solution is one in one brainstorming process. But there are millions of us who may also have an idea for a solution.
I looked at the speed limits of our roads as guidance or a metaphor: An occasional car will pass the bunch of us, right? But the speed is not much faster because we all drive faster than the posted limit, Still, speed is within reason.
In the future, maybe, children could be taught the limits of expressing emotions at and along the different roads of life. They would recognize when their anger was approaching the limit. They would recognize when they were being coerced or manipulated with zombie passion.
The sight of someone with such a great amount of esteem for oneself who is adored may sometimes hit someone hard for their low self esteem and will turn their self loathing toward a place that is a cause of their pain then fear then anger. With emotional speed limits, selfie shots might replace shots of tequila or shouts of insults or worse, a shot at a stay in jail.
I read comments and I admit mine is a rare one. I too read books which I savor best by laying out ideas for folks to choose to wear or accept, thanks to the ideas I take in from them.
Thank you for your motion of poetry regarding a serious issue of the value of a being whose thoughts and feelings belie the underpinnings of organs and a heart in which song is harmonized with nature.
I waited to read this in the morning, alone right before the sun peaked. Cuz I just knew! I knew it deserved that reverence. This was magnificent. Standing ovation !
Plantationocene! I love how you weaves the poem throughout. We’ve (us Black folk) have been writing and theorizing about this for so long. Can we really live? Like, really?
I have thought recently about emotional regulation and it’s possible and probable connection with gun shots. While guns are banging we bang our heads against those sudden and erratic but seeming more like a pattern headlines with more head ache than solutions.
In my head, therefore, my solution shook me, as in a solution of other concerns. My solution is one in one brainstorming process. But there are millions of us who may also have an idea for a solution.
I looked at the speed limits of our roads as guidance or a metaphor: An occasional car will pass the bunch of us, right? But the speed is not much faster because we all drive faster than the posted limit, Still, speed is within reason.
In the future, maybe, children could be taught the limits of expressing emotions at and along the different roads of life. They would recognize when their anger was approaching the limit. They would recognize when they were being coerced or manipulated with zombie passion.
The sight of someone with such a great amount of esteem for oneself who is adored may sometimes hit someone hard for their low self esteem and will turn their self loathing toward a place that is a cause of their pain then fear then anger. With emotional speed limits, selfie shots might replace shots of tequila or shouts of insults or worse, a shot at a stay in jail.
I read comments and I admit mine is a rare one. I too read books which I savor best by laying out ideas for folks to choose to wear or accept, thanks to the ideas I take in from them.
Thank you for your motion of poetry regarding a serious issue of the value of a being whose thoughts and feelings belie the underpinnings of organs and a heart in which song is harmonized with nature.
I waited to read this in the morning, alone right before the sun peaked. Cuz I just knew! I knew it deserved that reverence. This was magnificent. Standing ovation !
Plantationocene! I love how you weaves the poem throughout. We’ve (us Black folk) have been writing and theorizing about this for so long. Can we really live? Like, really?