Author: Donny Lee Duke

I'm one of many thousands who just get up on our soapbox and sing to an audience not there, and I just want to quit being a fool, but I hear the inner voice and keep at it like it's gonna save the world.

Look at the Outcast

On By Donny Lee DukeIn ego activism, Inner Voice and Vision, overhead poetry, seer poetry2 Comments
Adolf Hitler 1933

Infant Orgasm,
Infant Orgasm You See

(Note: from July 2016 to December 2016, I posted seer poems on Facebook written specifically for our educational page Harm’s End. I know FB was aware of the posting at the time, because some poems were boosted and had to go through Facebook’s review process, with one being rejected, one about the prophet Mohammad, although FB did not take it down or flag it in any way. On August 4, 2020, I copied all the poems, along with their images, to my computer, and a day later a poem from 2016 was taken down for violating their community standards, showing me my activity was being closely monitored by FB. I then deleted any image I thought FB might object to, unaware that an image of Hitler is now flagged by FB as a matter of course. That it is now but wasn’t in 2016 reflects a growing trend of censorship on the net. It won’t be long before anything that seriously questions the generally accepted reality construct or tires to introduce things that construct isn’t seeing and doesn’t want to will be banned from the major social media platforms and taken as far as possible out of the public eye. In other words, the net will become like TV.

This poem along with this image was posted on FB September 10, 2016. It was flagged August 15, 2020, but not taken down, citing it violated their community standards, and I edited it the following day, adding material in brackets within the poem that explain the poetry, to make it clear I wasn’t violating their community standards. Within 10 minutes after editing it, our page Harm’s End was unpublished. Although this poem fits into a poetic conversation on my FB feed and is out of context to post here by itself, I’m posting it here to protest the censorship of art and poetry on Facebook and on the net in general, in this case, poetry whose purpose it is to heal, not harm, however controversial it may be.)

Executive order.
Anyway she just surprised me.
Hitler, the 1st letters of incest,
rape.
It started World War II.
Half the money
the gate come open.
What come out?
I know it,
the material,
the material of war,
the material of concrete war.

Incest gun,
check it out.
That’s not a gift.
It’s an orgasm
your mom gives ya,
or your dad,
an adult in the family.
The house owner
outside of somethin’.
It’s American.
We know it’s German.
It’s also England,
all countries,
just a story on it
broken.
You wouldn’t hit everybaby,
enough to organize
the required material.
Is that war?
You said it baby.

It’s German
under the feet.
That means it’s right there:
kill ‘em,
thousands gas.
Bring them on the table
but be careful.
Daddy was good wasn’t he
or mommy special?
We do this in an orderly fashion.
Got that right.
Just line ‘em up
and shoot ‘em,
terrible.
I’m gonna
keep comin’.
What’s this?
An orderly compound,
an orderly room.
Procedure, procedure?
And we built the gas chambers,
and we built
orgasm.

Give that kid
trouble,
not between his legs,
not
now,
not now.
Look out the window.
Go to the door.
It needs an umbrella:
the night of the generals.
They have a very detailed IQ.

THEY.
People are bad.
Not everybody.
He doesn’t like,
he has a very knowledgeable
presence with Jews.
Art school,
they wouldn’t let ‘im in.
Art college,
they wouldn’t let him in now.
Okay make them unworthy,
lump them with all the undesirables,
society’s degenerates,
but blame them for everything.
They are the masterminds
of all that’s wrong with the world,
of all that’s wrong with our country.

[understand the poetry: those are Hitler’s views, not the poet’s.]

Fell down –
see a war,
a war,
a world war:
give to me
my mountain.

You have to understand
orgasm.
It changes war.
It’s a blitzkrieg
of physical pleasure
on an I unformed.
One second.
There’s an I.
Is there
more like the animal I.
Is that me?
That building centerfold
the earth
is removed from the scene.
I’m a baked chump,
burn in a holocaust of pleasure.

Understand
repeated action,
all this mess over time.
It has a tendency
to rob you of pleasure,
organize your role
an antenna
to try and get things in order,
down
if you know what I mean,
not up in the sky.
Look at
the nice uniforms,
the insignia,
the roll of tanks.

You’ve been robbed you see,
and that damage,
and you in ego formation,
and God did it,
your parent.
Any questions Paramount?
That’s it.

(There is, it should be understood, a personal interpretation to this poem throughout, since, in truly inspired art, in seer poetry especially, it’s at bottom, however remotely, also about the artist. In this light, the verse about Hitler being rejected from art college and subsequently scapegoating all Jews because of that can also be interpreted to be about the refusal of my entire society, Jews, non-Jews, everybody, to let me into the art of the day, but the personal interpretation isn’t tit for tat with the poem, as it just lights upon it here and there. If you want to know how the personal interpretation applies to the main subject of the poem, infant orgasm, read this comment I posted on Medium before my Medium account is also suspended, because I color outside the lines.

If you want to know the occult truth behind Hitler, read the book The Light That Shone Into the Dark Abyss by Maggi Lidchi-Grassi, 1994, Sri Aurobindo Ashram Press (not available to read online). Facebook, which almost a third of the world’s population uses, has such an unwarranted and inequitable influence over the knowledge that we pass around, and it (like not only the other online mega-businesses, but also the major news outlets and the great majority of the entertainment industry I might add) is in its core beliefs reductionist materialist, however many employees it has that doesn’t hold those beliefs. If that’s not enough, it’s in it for profit, and if Facebook encounters material that makes people feel uncomfortable, a loss of profit steps in and makes the decision, and even if it doesn’t violate its policies, FB will simply ban it. Now, the truth of us, the good, the bad, and the ugly, it might hurt to hear it, you know?

Is the human matter finished? I mean, is there anything more to discover about us other than the fundamental beliefs that we’ve built human society upon, and those are that we are individual human islands expendable to the sea of humanity and inconsequential compared to it, islands possessing an absolute freewill and a consciousness that doesn’t extend beyond the island that we each are, and, in the intrinsic ground of who we are, we are nothing more than that island? Here we are at the cutting edge of humanity. This is the denied knowledge trying to gain entry: there is more to discover about us, and we are more than that.

I’ll end with an analogy to put the subject matter of this poem into a context that will make what I’m attempting here more apparent:

“This thing no one ever talks about before, and when we are the first ones to talk about it, there are a lot of people that think this thing shouldn’t be touched, this thing is you know, sacred, and the people that think you are going too far, and all of these people are going to undermine our movement, for sure.” Quote from a Thai protester in Bangkok speaking to a BBC reporting about protesters questioning the power of the Thai monarchy. Source: BBC video “Thai protests: Thousands join rally in Bangkok”, 17 Aug 2020.)

 

Art Stone

On By Donny Lee DukeIn overhead musicLeave a comment

“Come and touch me, with your art stone, rubbin’ down the terrace of my mind.” You ever hear music? I think I’m hearing you, all past your barriers, you know, lookin’ at art, in the danger of a Twitter feed: @donnyduke7

 

You’re Close to One of Those People

On By Donny Lee DukeIn ego activismLeave a comment

You’re Close to One of Those People

A social monstrosity,
that’s our reel time,
like movies are out of town.
Everywhere glows,
like one view will change your life,
and only a kick you get,
as if you’ve seen enough.
Can we see about society please?

Some exceptions,
We the Animals would make the list,
not the good guy got his gun,
and the bad guy is really mean,
or a social drama steeped in tears,
or poverty’s whereabouts,
grim, bleak landscapes
that show nothing underneath,
just that they’re poor,
and your pity’s all aglow.

Violence anyone?
What the root of it?
See what you’ve done please.
I think you’ve humanized the machine,
put a face on the Joker
that makes him real to us.
We understand his plight.
Clearly we can see the program.
He’s human,
profoundly insane,
and it’s not his fault.
Yeah this is social reality.

I don’t think it’s the crimes we blame Hitler.
He’ll represent evil to us,
and we can get away with it,
like our dream show host
so self-righteously mean.
Are we in Hollywood?
It’s certainly on the streets.
I’m socially unacceptable.

That’s all that adult material.
And you think it’s the aftermath?
Let’s look at the underpinnings of society.
Who rules the show?
You’d have to be rich to get in office.
Exactly.
Are they concerned with money?
I can’t tell you I’m counting votes –
and that’s the social democrat.

An explosive movie,
Joker,
a gut level reaction:
you sympathize with the tiger.
That’s the role of this movie.
You feel him don’t you?
A proxy car,
so dangerously done.
Its casts a giant shadow
on newsweek.
Who’s the hero now?
A brilliantly executed
all-starring quarterback…

Come on word shut.
He pretended to be asleep.
She’s puttin’ on the rain jacket.
Can you give me a second?
Did you want another stand in for a comedian?
I’m not your seein’ program.
Make this seer.
Creates the joy in you
by its creation,
other paragraph.

I wanted to see,
and Gods like him right now,
a twisted human creature
of wrath and intelligence,
with a hate as his minister and cruelty as his guide.
This is where we need to be
to save humanity,
identify with the most foul,
and I’m not talkin’ guns.
We feel them as we feel ourselves,
a human being still.
How else can we reach them,
tell me, tell me Bill?

You wouldn’t know.
It’s open season,
and no one has a grasp what’s going on,
and here comes this movie to show us.
It’s human filth?
#richlivesmatter would run the hashtag.
Hombre,
they’d come up with something.

It’s not a commie it would lead us.
We would in special places go.
Can you gauge humanity
by who runs it?
A white man’s army.
A white man’s world.
I’m talkin’ politics.

Rich or white here’s the token:
and they rule a population blind.
I need you to see this
next time we go to the polls,
putting those bubbles down
and getting your ticket.
My name is Tool:
no hate people or rich people.
Got it?

Just one problem,
the video:
we make each group
a land unto themselves.
Look holistic.
Understand the earth is round.
May I have your autograph?
Whoever it is.
Trinity of God with nature,
that’s the origin book.
Put it on harm’s end.
It was the Divine Mother.

Seriously did it rock?
It’s in this halfway house.
Look,
if you don’t go sin then why did you check on it?
You think a rule said that?
Text clearly written.
This is all wrapped up in poetry.
I’m green knew about group –
Oliver Steven.
How many shrooms did you get?
One and half kilo.
You have to get involved with matter.
Celebrate, celebrate, dance to the music.
One polished,
it’s a one of a kind.

Mr. Topple,
alpha as well.
Now Jews are made in our image too,
the right toys.
Don’t arm yourself.
We’re expecting
everybody
on the streets in your hometown
singin’ We Are the World.
You’d have to understand silence,
the power of a peaceful demonstration
everybody gets together
and tries to love one another right now.

You see the ways?
Just don’t punish sin,
point the finger at this group or that,
not even the corporations and the state.
We’re talkin’ humanity.
You’re taking responsibility for yourself.
You see the wildcard?

What’s the incriminating evidence?
You sin too see that.
How heavy the world is
when it sees its mistake.
There’s just different ways of doing things.
It’s not all the same people.
Let’s get on with bein’ better people
with one another.

Now I’m Orange County,
and you’ve got a railroad map.
The streets show its strength.
A National World Day I let you out of the room.
I’ve got lookin’ glass.
Life’s here.
We’re all here.
Let’s get proactive.

Beauty’s Reign

On By Donny Lee DukeIn black and white photography, ego activism, Inner Voice and Vision, supermind, the integral yoga, the psychic being, video artLeave a comment


Beauty’s Reign

Verse 1

d               a         g
It’s been a long time,
a
long, long, long time,
g                              a                    d     g
everything that’s sung and in one line.
d                            a               g
Work up slowly your way to it.
d                                   g                   a
And the folk song’s driftin’ on a better day.
d                          a                  g
The folk song’s liftin’ on a inner ray:
d                g        a           g              d
the many splendors of beauty’s reign.
g                a        d              g
Here the heart wants to share
g                        a                       d
snow covered music for my kind,
g                                        a                                      d
on the wings of the time, on the wings of a dove, on the wings of love.
a                           g
So many changes for my kind,
a                    d
everything to do with the divine,
a                              g
everything that’s true,
d                      a                       g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d              a                      g                       d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.

Verse 2

d a  g
Let go,
a
let, let, let go.
g a      d       g
Land wide release.
d             a                   g
You are llamada up above. (Spanish, pronounced ‘yamada’)
d                                   g                   a
And the folk song’s driftin’ on a better day.
d                          a                  g
The folk song’s liftin’ on a inner ray:
d                g        a           g              d
the many splendors of beauty’s reign.
g                a        d              g
Here the heart wants to share
g                        a                       d
snow covered music for my kind,
g                                        a                                      d
on the wings of the time, on the wings of a dove, on the wings of love.
a                           g
So many changes for my kind,
a                    d
everything to do with the divine,
a                              g
everything that’s true,
d                      a                       g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d              a                      g                       d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.

Verse 3

d            a  g
A time of change,
a
change, change, change, change,
g                a                               d              g
when the world pipe knows only one thing.
d                    a                      g
You have to know it very well.
d                                   g                         a
And the folk song is tempted by an adverse fate.
d                            a                                     g
The folk song is driftin’ wrong on the Titan’s urge.
d                   g  a   g                  d
He saw my sun, moon, and stars.
g      a   d            g
Put all change back.
g                          a                             d
But in the play there’s a process aware of,
d                g        a                           d
Look out of the psychic being’s urge.
a                         g
And that weakness was no longer,
a                             d
and that weakness was no longer.
a                     g
It shattered not
d                      a                       g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d              a                      g                       d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.

Ending

D          A              G
This is from the sun (3xs):
g              a                      d                       g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d              a                      g                       d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.

The Settling Stone a Carve

On By Donny Lee DukeIn black and white photography, film photography, Inner Voice and Vision, spoken word poetry, the Mother and Sri AurobindoLeave a comment

The Settling Stone a Carve

Made images out of light.
Feed them to this world.
Beat me.
I’m a meeting of soul wings.
It doesn’t bother me.
Use your head.
Reflected on the walls of the mirror.
In any event,
where I sit and represent God.
That’s the power lines.
What compassionate consideration.
It’s like he loves himself.
He’s the photographer you see,
the photograph,
all these images,
the poem,
pure,
not an ounce of color.
Do you see the address?
It’s in the face of everything.

Image Pondicherry

On By Donny Lee DukeIn black and white photography, Inner Voice and Vision, overhead poetry, the integral yoga, the Mother and Sri Aurobindo, the soul, video poetryLeave a comment

 

Image Pondicherry

Poetry
I need you.
He fell into the bricks.
Thank God let him through.
He’s an image in a photograph.
What visibility.
All citywide wears one face.
It gathers in the gloom.
Was to fight
till the front soul noon.
Let’s give soft yoga shoes
a copy of The Letters
and give those bored little crazies the cubbyholes.
Came out peaceful Pondicherry.

An Audience Song

On By Donny Lee DukeIn black and white photography, film photography, Inner Voice and Vision, overhead poetry, Poetry, spoken word poetryLeave a comment
I took this at the theater of Alliance Française in Pondicherry and developed it in our darkroom

An Audience Song

Poetry enhances
our little corner of life’s room.
It’s what we splash on our faces
to get the stories out.
You would contradict this song.
That’s the mystery.
And we look at an iceberg,
it roses from the ground.
Underneath it stalls in light.
A brief ocean
has rounded in our ears
the equity
of a larger see than ours.
Alimony this payment
to that stuff in us
at noontide’s sing.

I’ve rounded poetry.
You hear the contradiction?
It’s a blistery see
with what ails yah,
the exuberance
of a state of being
laughing at the stars.
It’s a transaction
between you and sight
that calls all what you don’t see
into play.
I measure my life by it
one poem at a time,
a poet in my room
attended by verse itself.
You are my audience
lines of poetry.
What people there
the contradictory note,
the flowers of which I speak.

This poem was submitted to and rejected by Poetry Magazine

Honey Do You Sweep Under the Rug?

On By Donny Lee DukeIn Dreams, Inner Voice and Vision, overhead poetry, Poetry, scientific materialism, video artLeave a comment

 

Video: ‘Lucy’s Cosmic Dream’ by Douglas M.

Honey do you Sweep Under the Rug?

by Donny Duke

Hey John Coward,
me too coming.
Standing on the train.
Look at
where is she:
is this a science
or is this evidence?
You look for invigorating theories
brought on by the catchphrase word.
Delve deeper and you might find life.

What’s this habit here?
Only outward tuned.
Tell me you don’t know anything:
it’s all conjecture, guess, and patchwork answer.
Evangelize this uncertainty.
All that can be known is in your little book.
Gimmie that a second;
right here
it says you’re at
a larger historia
than right here taking an inventory of what I’m saying.

Behind closed doors
a muscle romance with dawn
tells your inner life with dream.
Behind walls of thought
you are rounding
2000
go somewheres.
Open your inner life,
spend time there.

Where is the key?
In the realm of your bed,
around the neck of dream
and other things during sleep.
Pour over the books there like a university.

No way –
a phantom
I see it.
Superstition idn’t it?
Science’s armchair here?
Science can’t reckon there.

Ambulance
we got here.
Trade anonymous
perfume
for the smell of God at your door.
It’s expensive.

Oh you laugh and say smile?
Don’t try to shut up the bottom mile
Richard.
Alight lookin’ good Brenda.
Still study your cat.
Bank it on the lips of dream
the rest of it.

Originally posted with the title “See Beyond the Peon” and without the last verse as a comment to the BBC Magazine article Point of View: "Ghosts and the Material World", May 5, 2013. It came via the inner voice.

 

Original Sin

On By Donny Lee DukeIn black and white photography, Inner Voice and Vision, overhead poetry, Poetry, spirituality, supermind, the integral yoga, the Mother and Sri AurobindoLeave a comment
My must suggested the subject, and I made the shot and developed it

Original Sin

In a sunny corner of remote earth
the bite of it all
challenged orthodoxy.
This was in Nature’s plan.
Green-gold it moved.
This conducted harmony
operating on discords –
not a packaged plan,
neither from the stars.
It brought in cities beyond the universe.

We bask in its revelry –
a riot of God
on lone isles of trust.
Wonderful it wore shoes.
Naked impulse did not light its lamp.
A renegade,
it brought all to bear on noontide.
Light held its room.

Yes, we sing in darkness’ lair.
We deliver anthems
without knowing on which we rest.
It came to us unclothed,
and we saw naught but sin.
What distance orthodoxy
from all that abounds in this place.

 

This poem came complete via the inner voice while I was sitting and waiting for a room darshan on Mother’s birthday at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in 2015. It was originally posted in the old blog of Douglas and I, The Chipmunk Press. It bears mentioning that I went to the Samadhi the next day after writing the poem and inwardly asked where I should put the poem, and I heard my muse answer:

To the question in Sri Aurobindo's room:
are you there?"

Incense

On By Donny Lee DukeIn black and white photography, Inner Voice and Vision, overhead poetry, spirituality, the Mother and Sri AurobindoLeave a comment

Heard these lines via the inner voice while meditating at the Samadhi of Mother and Sri Aurobindo and smelling the incense burning there the other morning. The photo I took in our satsang room and developed in our darkroom.