My (wo)Manifesto
This work of poetry is created with the intention to inspire.
To share the agony caused by today’s set of inherited crises.
To offer questions, and seek answers for those still looking for permission to be the chaotic changemaker in their community you were born to be.
I call it my (wo)Manifesto because in reality, the work came after I read the Techno-Optimist Manifesto and felt that it should not go without response from a matriarch.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for the work you’re doing,
especially if that work is on yourself.
(click the title of the piece you’d like to read)
The Paradigm
A shine that blinds
perfume coated distractions obscuring,
just enough, the sweetly sick stench
of root rot & old bombs
consumation. consume nation. consume
consume. consume. costume.
mask. mask art
mask love
mask fright
fight. peace through wars afar.
a farce, a violent game
with no off switch.
ripping heartstrings of mothers
ripping hands from panicked grasps
and pages from books of history.
his story is a lie.
fetid and stinking
fed and ravished
by low men swarming flies to long pig
doused in nitrogen
spritzed with potassium
salted with phosphorus
spoils of the extraction
abusing laws of attraction
antagonize the reaction
to keep the distraction
The Shift
It only takes permissions
from one small, curious act of defiance witnessed at a distance
for one crack sounding over tiptoed egg shells
from one final straw carried on the bottom of a jackboot
click
the lock breaks
the door creaks on hinges rusty from salted disuse
skittering from the dark, lardybirds fielding questions file in
followed by birds a flutter dropping food for thought.
Seeding soil made quietly fertile by fore-mothers in lost generations donning cloaks of complacency
all the while collecting kernals of compassion
sowing depths of kindness
and wells of empathy
A secret society of thistle spines and sunflowers scattering the shift along winds of change
This is permission. This is consent.
People Power
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world;
indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” – Margaret Mead.
See past division
past derision
past devisive tactics and painful treasons
see goodwill, big hearts, conviction
see care, creativity, kindness
see space for compromise
pause
your power is our power
exponential expanstion to revolution
combine forces
of action
representation
communication
combine heart and passion
a drama unwavering
un-ignorable
fire in our bellies
food on our tables
challenge in our souls
together a mountain
never a molehill.
The Missions
critical.
an ugly word depicting necessary action, a vital solution.
like bare, dry dirt
desiccated
desertified
wishing for a word, an ant, a roly poly
dreams of soil
mission critical is where we find ourselves,
ladybugs crawling desperately towards sustainable solutions
a taproot winding down, holding fast the leaves whipping in the winds of uncertainty,
of change
finding oasis in the depths of unwavering, finite truth,
of planetary boundary,
of personal conviction.
The Planet
The pond is low
but the lily still blooms
fires cascade down forested hills
floods gouge laylines, claw marks across hallowed land
but still, the birds return
the beavers rebuild
Can we be owed stability?
Or does our giving mother only have so much bend in her boughs?
Is the price of gasoline worth the price of a tough love that rends beauty from beholders in great swaths?
Can we save our home?
Oh, mother returns.
Her spark, the fluttering of dragonfly wings
the ripple over a reflected moon
the seedling born of fire.
We,
the wound she licks clean lest we fester
a pockmark healed only by time.
I ask again, can we save our home?
Art
The visceral eros of a soul made real
a tangible pouring of expression
a malleable, immutable fire
living cockeyed in straight boxes claiming normalcy
It’s wielders a precious, endangered species
brimming with thankless creation,
flooded with the agonies of breakfast and toxic corporate air.
Fuck Art.
Art Saves
lives
hearts
minds
natural collaborations
frivolous laughter
untethered care
Art is a vehicle, the voice
of collective consciousness reacting to movement
through a soup of planetary auras
Keep art. Pay artists.
Energy (renewable)
[energy] fragile, finite
renewed by sleep
a reward from the sun
from the greatness of water on rocks on gravity
dragging each single molecule
pristine & ravenous
Instead, the curse chose power,
and the power chose the curse
a slow suicide
an ultimate debt
a double down deal at crossroads come collect.
There. is. no. way. forward. for black. gold.
There is no drill
no dilution (delusion)
no solution for empty
There is no reason ripping
for scarring
for pumping
for polluting
as you are renewed by sleep for days infinite
until your eyes finally close,
energies joining the balance,
so too are the cycles are solar.
this is a gift made in its likeness.
Abundance
See abundance
in ripe fruits
and meals pulled from the microwave
in small acts of appreciation
and smiles from the local street stranger.
See abundance in dirty dog paws
and the floor to sweep
in music through tinny headphones
and the homemade patch on old pants
Abundance is a choice.
like beauty, like greed, like empathy, like solitude
what is your abundance?
the glutton, arms full, chestnuts in cheeks, red faced and overprotective
over productive
over proportioned
meaningless frivolity slathered in bacon fat, resting on laurels you do not own?
How far do you stretch abundance?
Until it is waste?
planned obsolescence?
purgatory?
Recipe for Beauty
eye of beholder
stiff upper lip
hair of a damsel
swing of a hip
the thorn of a rose
a curly fern’s toes
dust of a leaf in a sunshine sheaf
sparkle of fang
a broken lover’s pang
babble of brook
smell of old book
can we see beauty, is it only a look?
Community
Simple, not easy
selective and inclusive,
subjective but adaptive
a balm for shame
loneliness
apathy
a vehicle for empathy
a bouncing of ideas
an acceptance above all odds.
We are the threads that weave tapestries higher than a single story.
We are the collective voices of dissent riding on broomsticks
and wagon wheels into battle for each other.
We are the antidote ans the enemy of corruption and misplaced trust
disconnected from our soils, stealing our spoils for needless oils.
We are an us.
Sustainable Value
Sustainable value is defined by the value holder, for the value holder.
It has license to change, or not.
It can be discarded, or not.
It can come from stories or dreams, lived experiences or witnessed nightmares.
It can be indoctrinated
though this is a dangerous path.
and it can be shared.
What sustainable value cannot abide is force.
The rigidity of narrow minded limiting reagents defining acceptable terms
for masses to squeeze and squirm and maim themselves into
like cats fighting for a box
like stinking, putrid, stagnant water dammed and wishing for a crack in the mountain
like old pain, haunting your bones, your heart, your rest
slithering into your bed whispering, ‘you’re mine.’
What world have we created
where the price is discounted
the value is limited
the currency is limiting?
where defining your value is aberrant
and acting on it is deviant
and sharing it is defiant?
This will not be my world,
damaging my soul,
damning my mountain stream
If
I am aberrant
I am defiant
I am deviant
so be it.
Staying in Awe
The rule is simple: Stay in Awe.
of the first sniff of morning brew
the sound of streaming water tapping the waiting beans
The simple silence of the dawn,
gradually filling with bird calls and parents and whistling neighbors moving about
A mountain stream
a piece of art
a roadside fruit stand
See the craftsmanship in the beaver dam, the hoover dam, and the home made of found boxes.
find awe in cool water running from taps
and fingertips trickling down your spine.
in held hands, shared bodies, and shared airwaves
in bitter over your tongue and bittersweet in your heart
stay in awe of pain, sweetness, sadness, and joy.
but stay.
Being the Enemy
I am the enemy
through no choice or definition of my own
no ill will or malevolence or stone thrown
but ‘enemy’ all the same
matriarchal
critical
respectful
of boundaries (planetary & otherwise)
of time (yours and mine)
of resources (limited and abundant)
careful (care full) with others
carefree from rigidity
educated, chaotic, loud, unresourced
but still unhushable
If I must be a named opponent, let it be
of limitless power
of dominance
of gluttonous gold hoards
of cavernous extraction
of status and influence and waste costumed in lies and called success
yes then, I am the enemy.
Seven Generations
It is 15 we each carry.
7 behind, 7 ahead
one 1 right now.
I leave you here
what has been gifted to you?
what will you gift to those after?
xo
aub
An UnHushable Note
It took me three months, a full seasonal transition, to write these words (between 10 July and 8 October 2026). A summer to autumn where the kind of heat had never been recorded, the world stage sits in chaos and I’m redefining what my local and online communities can be.
I wrote these poems first in a tiny notebook I keep on my kitchen counter, most in the early morning hours, some with light from summer dawns and others by candlelight as the autumnal skies darkened our mornings, and I didn’t write them in order.
Much of the redefining work in these pages is brought on by the research and reflection that went into the Extractive Tapestry Series, which as I write today is also almost ‘complete’ as it’s own standalone body of work, and a redefining of what Nature Based Marketing truly is.
I found my answers to the question, “what influences us to stay unsustainable, even when we know better?” and I found those answers to be distasteful, on the brink of conspiratorial. And this body of work helped me to process and express those ranty spirals in another way.
This body of work both inspired and has been inspired by the UnHushable Network and the people who don’t know how to give up.
To me, the UnHushable Network isn’t just a listing of creators looking for partnerships, it’s a defiant act towards those who would name me enemy and who seek to silence sustainable change, those who hoard wealth and prioritize monetary value and quick, wasteful output over slow care, fulfilled hearts, and full bellies the world over.
It’s a reminder that everyday action, even small, can connect our pieces – peaces – together and build what we think the future can look like.
I find myself inspired by people more and more, and can see how, with small, shared permission, we can create something different. Where our value is defined together, the goal is mutually beneficial, the credence is ‘do no harm,’ and the planet has a seat at every table.
This is the first time I have shared a cohesive work of my deeper poetry, and I hope that something resonates with you enough to tell me about it.
If it did, please send me an email (aubrey@dandelionbranding.com). I’d love to hear from you.