I have to get that picture.
I have to get that picture from the Mount of Olives.
They have refined the books.
That’s it,
pretty intelligent about it.
We didn’t kill ourselves.

I visited the Old City of Jerusalem
and did a hunger strike outside its gates,
three weeks,
ended Easter and Passover 1995.
Then I taped poems of mine all over Jerusalem
in the holy quarters,
dangerously daring in the dead of night.
You wanna see it?

In Jerusalem is here,
and in Pondicherry I will do a hunger strike for my boy,
to protect him from abuse
and get him back home.
You don’t believe me read the story.
I will do anything for love.
Get ready folks.
I’m about to step in God’s hands
and see what they’re made of.
Care to join me come
at the lake.
Day one begins shortly,
for the love of Nithish.

Nobody catches blood on the first day of the field.
It showed that I had been to visa.
We must add those grapes too,
so to be believed.
I got it issued 1977 press,
and that’s it.
My hunger days as a Jesus freak
add to the story.
I converted people at school lunch,
and we’d get on our knees right there in front of everybody.
I’d have them accept Christ.
I read my Bible every day,
studied scripture,
and I attended church every night,
all the denominations.

I didn’t find Christ,
just his name.
The clothes I wore prevented me.
Those clothes were Christianity,
so I took them off,
put my Bible down
and started backpacking and camping on the weekends,
looking for the natural God.
Green Beret came easy after that.

So I went to Jerusalem with a heartache.
Jesus was real I knew it,
but would I find him in all that stone,
all those old places?
I found adventure,
but I did not find Christ.
He was too buried over by religion.
Do I find him today?
A present God in my life yes,
who’s special function is compassion and redemption,
the God of love.

He has appeared to me in vision
so to help with Nithish,
getting that boy back to me
and getting him healed.
So when you talk of the Old City,
this is religion wore off.
It won’t help you none.
I think there’s still hope for Pondicherry
to become a spiritual city of wide dimensions,
for inner watch,
not outer show,
for freedom in the spirit,
not to bow down to a religion.

A free, open, and easy God
that can accept even the atheist
at His dinner table,
and change us all
into better men and women,
The New Jerusalem,
we’ve found it here in Pondicherry.
It is here the Supermind came down,
and it’s here we’ll learn to be a proper city,
considering human beings
before even the law,
learnin’ how to make it right
with our children,
learnin’ the true intent and purpose of school,
and how to treat people who work for you
and pay them well.
No slaves please,
no schedule that excludes your life.
We’re on our way Pondicherry,
we’re on our way.

I wanna be the first one
to raise a child
knowin’ Pondicherry
is a cradle of civilization.
is where we do it,
the supramental manifestation on Earth.
Did you even look at it?
There’s a book here in Pondy with that title.
Take it out for a spin.
It’ll
bring you on the road to destiny Earth
and open up your life
to what we’re actually doing here.

Say hi Billy,
how are you?
Don’t pull that out and show it to me.
Let’s get down to business what you really want.
You want God in your life don’t you.
How do you become you are He?
Pull your pants up I’ll show yah.
My job pretty good,
kids know I like them yes.
I let ‘em play with their little small cars.
Well why not?
I don’t bother them there.
I know how to take that energy
and open their consciousness with it,
and turn that curiosity to God,
never once tellin’ ‘em
playin’ with themselves is wrong.
You just wouldn’t put it in videos
and pass it out in the street.
You protect that child’s privacy
and leave them alone there.
The power we give them
when we do it right.
God rest His case.

You have to find out
tomorrow,
at some point,
your child got raped
with that guidance
that shows them everything
is to make money,
buy nice things,
and walk on people you don’t like
or you disagree with.
Open heart surgery,
open house surgery,
it’s how we find each other again,
so complete and wonderful.

I have the stairs.
Will you walk up them?
Pondicherry it’s time you become yourself,
where peace descends
on your city mood.
Buckle up,
I think you’re fine.
Help me find my boy will yah?
He was halfway in to the new humanity when he was taken,
and you countin’ on me to get it right.
We have pushed suffering
out of his life.

Unfortunately
this is a brand new
way of doing things.
I’ll see you scoff at it at first.
Then I’ll see you think about it.
Then I’ll see you accept it.
We have to go.

You know I hear about Nithish.
And what did you do with that?
Normal,
he’s perfectly normal.
I just spoke to someone who he cried to.
The boy wants his daddy,
tired of being beaten and threatened.
I guess we need insurance.
Yes daddy,
I know daddy.
I’m almost done here.

You were so concerned with your mall and media.
Heartbeats
don’t measure pain.
They just squeeze it,
but this boy’s still feeling pain,
and he hides it from you
because he must.
You beat him, threaten him,
if he even talks to me.
Imagine what you do with him
when he asks you to let him see me.
You’re leavin’ out the full story Sandiya.
You’re not tellin’ the truth.
That is a must Pondicherry,
give this boy back his place
with me, with you, and with God.

Splittin’ with an open guitar,
I will
make people to understand
what I’m asking of them.
Hey Sleeping,
can I ride your tricycle awhile?
My boy’s being abused,
and it won’t let up.
I need this written in the paper.
I need this on the news.
I need to protect my boy.
Will you help me?

I’m not robbin’ cradles.
I’m not doin’ anything bad to him.
I’m bringing him to the fullness of his potential,
and I can show you miracles that’s being done.
Read awhile
his poetry,
and then tell me his parents are right
in keeping him away from that,
in keeping him away from me,
and do you know how they do that?
They beat him they slap him.
They threaten to put him in a boy’s hostel.
They guard him day and night
to keep him from contact me.

Why is this you ask?
The boy prefers me as a parent,
and they can’t stand that,
but do you know what he did?
He told me his father was masturbating his little brothers,
and he gave me a video his mother made of his little brother masturbating.
That’s why they took him from me.
He told me these things.
Do you know how much he’s been punished for that?
Do you know WHERE he’s been punished for that?

It’s happened that way,
and you’re gonna tell me I’m lying,
but no one will question that boy
about the abuse he’s received from his parents
away from those parents,
not a single Child Help worker in this city.
Why is that?
You tell me.

Here is the link to the story of the hunger strike in Jerusalem and the poem postings there:
https://acollaborationwiththeunknown.wordpress.com/2015/08/16/post-11/