I’m a bleeding article from your last test,
a hyper-hypotenuse.
I say the line.
It’s a dynamic field.
We don’t get there soon.
We don’t even see it for awhile.
I hate to be the seeding can.
I’m not celebrated in the streets.
I can’t get my name across to change the world,
but I tell you where God’s made,
Mr. and Mrs. People.

God grows distant here.
I am so tired of institutions.
The institutions of marriage and family break our social fabric
in adhesive bonds.
We can’t get away from them.
They test our social fabric
with what can’t be named,
a guttural possessiveness that puts us all in hordes.
We tarry there
eating each other alive.
It’s needed for our ship,
a family of parents that brings kids into the world.
It’s not what we need to survive.
It’s what we need to get rid of
as the managing arm of society,
as our social fabric dies.

We can’t raise kids that way:
listen to me or die.
My life you have made whole by your coming,
and I will rub your nose in it all life long.
You can’t be free from me
where you go against my purpose for your life,
my need you for my own ends.
Society balks at this:
give that child freedom
to manage freedom.
Why must he live his parents’ life?
Why must she be the daughter of their destiny?

Why do we have to do this all the time:
uphold the parents’ rights
to determine the will of their child?
Can you count this
in terms of freedom?
Step back parent
and let your child play outside
no rulers present,
no supervisor gag models.
Alarming this is
on humanity’s plate:
Big Brother rules the child
just in everyday parenting.

The fear of outside unsupervised doors,
sex resides there, doesn’t it?
Your fear of sex rules the show.
Your fear of sex rules everything.
They get scared
of their own front teeth
we put sex trafficking models on them,
a child molester behind every bush.
They don’t know what it means to be normal
with the fear the news media raises.
Add that to their own possessive accounts,
the parent that raise them,
to guard that child at all costs
from perceiving another parent in someone else,
and you just explode at the seams
with a child that can’t reckon itself,
and they will grow up unable to handle society.

A new institution will make the new man.
A small group of people family size
will orchestrate the new human being.
They still visit their families
every damn week,
maintain those close ties,
but any kid that can relate a dream,
old enough to,
becomes part of a dream group
their dream calls them to.
This is a sadhana watch ladies and gentlemen,
and a handful of people call its name.
They are near the child’s home
forming all the time.

It’s what society does now,
spiritual growth.
No clogs in the machine,
children will grow up to change the world.
A spiritualized society
comes about from its own accord.

It rises from the soul in things,
and we almost see glimpses of it now.
No government can put this in place,
nobody that makes steps the criteria to get there,
and no organization makin’ people do it.

I’m a sadhana watch ladies and gentlemen
speaking its piece,
and we’ve lost our youngest member
to parental overreach,
Nithish,
a prototype of the new human being.
His stuff is on the web for you to watch.
His tale is told
in these crawl spaces of his life.
Jealous of the songs he was makin’,
jealous of the music,
his parents made a big mistake.
They tried to take out his soul
in great abusive waves
that tore down his life.
No reason for this
except jealousy.

It’s heartrending.
Their cruelty destroyed him,
and he was left a nervous wreck
scared they would smother him in his sleep.
In such an environment he turned off the new human being.
Betrayed by God,
whom he adored,
he stood helpless facing time
a growing rage against the machine.
Parental rights determined all,
why I’m fighting for his life.
You hear me now, don’t you?

I can’t do it anymore,
just stand by and write poems.
I’m a half today.
The other half is his,
and we make a whole of action.
Finally, inevitably,
we come together on freedom.
Hear us Lord?
It’s Your horse we ride
the day we certainly dare,
the day we certainly keep.