In this poem, written from inner spiritual vision, meaning the lines were spoken to him on the inside, one by one, and I recorded them for him on my voice recorder where I record my own muse, Nithish is speaking to his future self, giving himself help about a tragedy that came to pass on March 12th, when he was taken from me. We’re not allowed visits, phone calls, and no one can give him my messages. They took him because they got mad at me. He’s had a negative personality change, and his spiritual vision has been replaced by nightmares.
Like dream, spiritual vision has vision of the future, and this poem will bear that out if you take the time to listen to it. As art and poetry, it will take more than one viewing to understand in its complexity, where, in each frame, there are layers of meaning, what is happening in the video itself, entertaining enough, and the poem superimposed on that, with occasional visions the boy had while the lines were spoken to him being presented in a ticker tape fashion at the bottom of the screen.
It’s actually a miracle and is a real example of soul healing, in this case his soul speaking to him now from the past. The video is now being viewed by the boy and those around him (or will be shortly), including his parents, and the divine muse of poetry, having knowledge of the future, knew when the video would be made and posted, at just the right time in the ‘death’ of the boy to bring him back to life, soul, and God.
“The Samadhi of the Gods is in my heart” means his spirituality is forbidden. His parents scorn his poetry, and he can’t follow the Mother and Sri Aurobindo. “I don’t like biryani I like burger.” He likes things American, which his parents don’t like. “I ask where is my dog,” his Beagle puppy, Grace, who he lost too. He lost all his dogs.
“Look back and you’ll get out” means that if he remembers what it was like living with me, looks back on those times, he’ll get out of school, school here meaning the school he is at home, school being a symbol for a child’s life lessons, whether they take place at home or at the institution of school. The whole poem is so he will remember what he’s forgotten under his parents’ intense psychological manipulation, where he lost himself. In this poem, which he wrote from his past to his future self, he’s trying to get his ‘dead’ self to see he needs to see who he really is.
“Bamboo sticks they use it to beat children in the school / and they use it to make sugar in the factory.” School is a symbol where he learns his lessons in life, both at home and school as an institution, as I’ve explained above. “Well, next time bad spirits of school Nazis,” meaning the extreme control his parents have used in this present situation, not the first abusive situation he’s been in with them, to get him to stop wanting me.
”Why is ice on fire on earth?” Our relationship has been put on ice but is aflame. “Gutter door is open. / Play along for awhile.” He did what his parents wanted and told people what they told him to say, “I’m okay with it,” but they can’t get him to tell me that. “Hold onto them with your breath, / knowers or brewers. / Mr. NoMore is out of town. He’s still holding onto to me, but his parents are telling him I’m a beggar, and I only want him to take care of me in my old age, and of course I’m Mr. NoMore.
The last lines mean that I recorded it all in my own muse and predicts that his story of childhood trauma will make a big difference in the world. The rap at the end, also muse and prevision, is a short synopsis of the bad situation he fell into when his parents took him from me. At that time he was listening to BoyWithUke.
Social consciousness we’re exploring here. This little boy’s showing it to you in the society he has with me. You don’t believe that we we share consciousness with each other. Here’s a poem that will show not only that, but that you can talk to your future self about that society you live in. An 11-yr-old boy wrote this, with an incredibly superior opening of the inner consciousness, magnetic, the very thing that you need to see so we can survive on this planet. In a spiritual emergency, you can write a poem in the inner consciousness to your future self, as this boy has done. He’s important to the world. You can count on one hand the number of kids that can do this in all the world.
Do you want this dead in him? It is right now. His parents have killed it. You’d call me a dirty old man because I want to see him so insistently, but your stereotype is wrong. I opened this boy’s consciousness, and we openly share consciousness together. We can prove this miracle. This is not the only poem of ours that shows it, because in poetry writing, in union with me he does it, and to have been torn asunder like this has caused our very souls to reach out for one another, and what else in him could have written this poem but his soul. Social consciousness, the first example.
Edge of the Game
(Written October 2023)
Samadhi of the Gods is in my heart
water drops.
Like any other kid’s life my life is complicated.
I don’t praise my parents I praise the Mother.
Hot Wheels on the road,
Boss Baby here.
Hah, I’m athlete, don’t fight me.
Sticker bushes in the sky,
clouds in the ground,
study abroad or study up rod,
my life is not stolen it’s in the safe.
Don’t you laugh at me for a little blah blah.
I’m like a marshmallow.
Can I really look handsome?
Sinkin’ through space,
Gandhi said you are a race.
[two above lines heard sung]
I don’t like biryani I like burger.
I don’t vote Modi but I very much do hear melody.
Garage of the forage,
call me Mr. Poppins.
(I have a vision of laying wounded in a bedroom in a white bed. The Mother and Sri Aurobindo are near me and start meditating when I wake up, and I start meditating with them. When I start meditating with them, they give me a power stroke to say what’s going on, like by the power, like I know everything. I was told I could talk to them anytime I wanted, but I have to snap into my supermental body because my physical body is here on earth but my supermental body is with them. Then I ask the Mother for a poem to get out of school, and she says the line below)
Look back and you’ll get out.
I’m thinking about leaving.
The ancient realm is alive.
Fate decides you,
(vision of General Iroh telling me the above line
in a Fire Nation ship in a vision)
what kind of man you become.
Rebuild the evolving species,
hashtag flying away.
Earn money for doomsday,
it’s in the eight sector.
Betrayal is not good for God.
Organize the pieces
you’ll see what I’m talking about.
Dive deep under the water
without a swimsuit
you’ll see the glowin’ star.
I see my dogs
in the garden with the Mother and Sri Aurobindo.
I’m a part of the lily pond.
Everything is reversed here.
Pepsi or Coke a Cola I don’t know.
Pepsi not for sure.
It’s pizza time at the lake.
I shaved air.
I’m a hill climber.
Peacocks look at me weird.
Do they see the shining sun?
They have the magical eye.
It’s easy for them to see me.
I’m in the wild with them.
I ask where is my dog.
In the jungle I say.
Why can’t it be in the plains,
can’t it be in the house,
can’t it be in the water,
can’t it be in the hills,
can’t it be in the hill climbers?
Sure do hill climbers climb that mountain.
Well, I’ll fly to that mountain.
I have the God’s eye.
Maybe I can see the angel on top of you,
because behind me
it’s an organization
assembled by the Gods
and the God Himself.
School is such a pain in the ass.
That’s where I get my boils from.
School doesn’t pop it.
My house pops it.
Bamboo sticks they use it to beat children in the school
and they use it to make sugar in the factory.
Well you sure are making a way for the demons.
Show me the certificate if you’re gonna hit a child.
I’m going to God to talk about this.
Well, next time bad spirits of school Nazis.
Please don’t hit my kind.
You’re all a unified mind.
Rhythm is not for music it’s for poets.
I sure do use a lot.
Why is ice on fire in Earth?
It’s sure not like that in the spirit realm.
I’ve visited that place.
Walk with honor.
The ball’s in your court.
Lay down the law.
It’s not an opinion.
It’s the whole world.
Free angels in your mind.
I’ve stopped drinking coffee,
but I’ve moved on.
It’s one or another.
Soon he’s gonna get married.
Everyone should learn to smile.
Gutter door is open.
Play along for awhile.
Treat yourself.
Spirits go away.
Hold onto them with your breath,
knowers or brewers.
Mr. NoMore is out of town.
Lily ponds are as beautiful as our inner.
Record my fame for history.
Business talks are not for me.
Boy of the Northern Kingdom is about to wake up the whole world.
Harm's End 