I open up my face in Brahman.
Something happened.
Death lives on in each of us.
Transient houses you made us feel.
Can we all surrender to hatred?
To relations with each other
I bring the death penalty;
I’ve packaged everything—
we hear death talkin’.
Now will you please listen?
Give this say to an individual,
not a group of any nation or purpose,
some wisdom on control.
Absolutely
parallel balance,
that’s the frame I put this in,
on the level.
Hey,
you alright?
I just put love in enemy territory.
Will I make it out of here alive?
You tell me.
My God that’s balance,
and let’s score you again
just too worth it.
And nobody walks me huh?
It’s crazy but
I go all out with this one,
and your attitudes about how social change comes about,
the best advice.
I put my peril down
and tell you the safe, wholesome fight for everyone.
You will kill me here I know,
if you break truth with me,
of course.
He tore down his statue of self-defense and said one big one today,
Smile Records.
All I want from poetry is my two front teeth.
We don’t need a bully.
The safest place for me to be is away from you.
I’m volunteering at your stacked deck
straight ahead.
Unbelievable.
Do me a favor,
I’m telling you
don’t press defcon 4.
We’re at the Geneva Convention.
It’s so shallow
if I even make it this far.
I want your hands off hate.
We’ve got to get down into the bowels of society to do that.
That’s why I’m chargin’ bulls
wearin’ red.
I’m down to this science,
and you’re in the war room.
You know what he give me?
Imaginations control,
nobody harm one another in their thoughts.
Can you see that in your mind?
This is hot stuff.
This is how we pay for peace
Emily.
Do a father to father talk about peace with Emily.
Her underwear got crowded out
by someone in her neighborhood
when she was seven or eight.
The backlist sells cookies so much slower.
She looks blind, hyperactive.
Identify that culprit with me.
No, identify with the culprit.
I’ve just spoken the secret formula that will save the world.
I’ve just spoken huge change.
You have my record.
It was a peace mission.
You’re just the Alamo.
Behind you,
that’s not a peacemaker.
Someone in the vestibules
throwing us all to evil.
They even have a financial access.
Hide and seek
the world demon.
And pray you don’t see him.
It’s a calamity.
Donny, filter.
Read the endless pages.
I’ll have the affordable print tomorrow.
I just copy movies.
I don’t have a thing to say that flowers
a reader’s turnover.
I don’t get published in the sky.
I just sit in my room and write
long letters to humanity.
I’m a shrill voice.
I run the gauntlet of change.
I slip and slide all the time
all over your meaning’s worth.
I Excalibur this now,
put it in a format for you to use/see. [words spoken simultaneously]
Do me a favor,
huddle up.
We’ve got no other choice.
I think the Griffins and the McCoys said that.
Did I just say enemies should speak to each other?
Without contempt.
I’m a Jew you know that.
Don’t hate me for it.
I’m a rightwing political bureau.
I think we would even charity you.
Do suicide
and pull down your pants a pedophile;
can you find anyone that doesn’t want you dead
or not allowed to breathe?
This is poetry central,
giving time a voice
so it can move us away from destruction and decay,
so it can bring meaning into our lives,
give sense to things,
and it can get bigger than all that
be there for us.
It can evolve time.
That’s the secret to noon.
We are not worthy of its hour.
We can’t get out of our sleeping beds.
The world is on fire,
and everybody thinks it’s as plain as day:
horse rider you started it,
you comin’
from a land seize,
or the hideous government,
or a cooperation bring us to our knees.
We’re to blame for the execution,
all of us,
each one of us.
You hear that?
You’re on it all the time.
A government oppresses its people,
and nobody sees the people themselves flavor it.
Take the litmus test.
Who supplies them with the labor
to enforce and to punish and to obey?
The numbers wanting free,
that’s not big enough to form a majority, is it?
And even they oppress
the numbers wanting to obey.
Do we call them traitors?
Let’s click on you.
You would not accept my submission, would yah?
I don’t even think you’d understand it.
Pop goes the weasel.
Another one bites the dust. [heard sung by Queen, line names song]
Oh the poems I’ve wasted on you.
Can I get at this singular event,
I get taken in by somebody
a poet speaking?
I’m still dawn on social approval.
Can we get at being human?
This poem’s for you,
a higher source for love,
even when you’ve exposed yourself on TV.
So filled our cabinet and left.
I’m a garbage bag.
I take only a minute to throw away,
but take a minute and look.
I’m sculptured,
rounded to your looks on things.
You know what you told me when you were a child,
sooner or later—
thank you for the Pepto-Bismol,
so I can start with you
just knock on the door and tell ‘em you’re hungry dammit,
for the zest of life,
more than someone who sucks their thumb;
I need to know I’m safe, okay?
I’m this contradiction in terms—
that kid.
This is the draw-sight for human beings:
love everybody’s neighbor,
love and support.
Crazy kid,
he loves a pedophile.
We give it much more than it came from,
call it much more than it is:
I love you too honey child.
You hear us now.
We are not strangers on earth.
We carry the world in the litany of our smile.
That’s 12 o’clock high.
That’s our love song.
Is that child safe with me?
We bring the world together.
Do you wanna make climate?
It worked for our team so much.
Film this great, narrow, stone bed.
To put them in the mall?
Pathway.
I’ll have a Rottweiler to try to stay down there
to put you in touch with time.
She just makes everything so real.
She's down there right now,
a love angle.
Can we calamity this?
That’s the nature of this paper,
the spirit of love.
And I’ve just waved a red flag under your nose.
Control yourself, will yah?
I’m not asking you to accept pain to a child
or harm done to him.
I think I’ve reached into your hate basket and pulled out the biggest one:
you can’t put these two together
and make a story out of love.
Self-defense mechanisms aside,
that’s how I define the world:
and he’s safe with me.
Now let’s look at your self-doubts.
Is he safe with you?
Will you kill him because you’ve seen him on this page
close to someone who loves boys?
Is this to make you feel safe?
Look,
let’s give everybody some room to breathe.
Mighty this one;
imagine this one—
I have a missed call:
no,
it’s not a hateful love.
It’s right on time:
for all the world to see.
Who stays close to skyscrapers?
A digital bureaucracy
won’t look at my poetry.
I don’t know what it means.
Man’s critical college parallel universe was
thrown into poetry.
I don’t think no one reads him,
even though it was a parallel universe.
Did I just say that?
You like mules
that have no meaning behind them
when they’re pullin’ a plough.
You don’t like to figure out stuff.
I don’t think you like meaning.
It’s read it’s bread.
Stop and take a look no way.
How do we bring down poetry into the universe?
My God the spheres here.
I can make up a poem to please yah.
See Dick run after Jane?
Okay get out of the knob Joe.
Meaning is paradise.
It’s not your guttural wear.
The random nonsense of meaning words,
did I just say paradise?
I’m at a loss for words.
Nobody understands me.
Critical Hank,
is that self-meaning or self-pity?
What do you see in an enemy?
A reader.
I’m all out of poems,
and they just comin’.
I’m really not doin’ this.
Poetry has grabbed my testicles and is squeezing them.
In silence no one can hear you scream.
That’s what my mind dirts,
when poetry comes in my window.
I’m liftin’ silence to read it.
It gets you all trashed
in dirt modules,
the mind’s interference,
and unfortunately the more trashed the more you like it.
I hear the mind there
all readable by rationality.
The mind likes symmetry.
I put a poem in pieces
where silence holds my poem.
I’m tryin’ to say this pure verse,
really, really from the silence,
unadulterated
by anything mind can give.
Do you see me there?
I’m listenin’ hard.
Like I say I come in pieces.
How do you value a poem?
It’s meaningful to you.
I don’t think you’re concerned with the silence.
The root of poetry has no meaning
to someone who looks at stuff all the time.
Pure abstractness’s not what I’m talkin’ about.
If you let it happen,
meaning would come in time
personal to you.
It would hit you on the nose
a vehicle trip.
I can't get at this abstraction.
Well can you let poetry breathe,
take off your thinking cap a moment?
You’re gonna be taken for a ride kid
in the hit you of your stuff,
in the node of your surround things.
Poetry will take you somewhere
out of yourself
in the larger spheres.
It has meaning
all wrapped up in purpose,
and we clear here.
Poetry is a vehicle of meaning
that will look at you in your underwear.
Are you desnudo?
Wow, amazing,
can you come read your poetry?
Can we understand your poetry together with silence?
I think the reader’s talking to me again.
Okay let’s say some hard words.
I’m a stallion in Paris.
When I look through my radar I see you.
I’ve opened my first book.
It’s just terrible.
It’s just terrible.
We can reader handle a book,
shall we?
You pronounce it better,
that publication.
They say I’m crazy.
And a book shall lead them,
trusting you.
You’re open.
You can definitely see the Sun.
Get out of the way,
and it will rain down upon us
how to do poetry,
be happy with what you make in a better way.
Tall recognition
of you’ve got some answers,
the answer,
despite failure.
I put failure in.
You got the Sun in your eyes.
You can check and see if it’s there.
Read this one.
You’re having a beautiful Yahtzee surprise.
Sit Sharma you have done.
A poet has his word out.
Shoulder gets a new test.
Oh, this is getting down to me,
the purport of poetry:
be meaning and don’t expect anything in return.
I think we just said the universe.
How do we do that,
get we and put it in a higher position?
Yeah, okay, struggle to survive.
Why am I gaslighting this?
I broke through the crowd and I silenced the sound.
They wondered if I was to blame
for Mary. [This two above lines heard sung by Bob Ayala, “The Song of Joseph”]
Into the divine,
can I take you?
There’s no struggling with,
there’s no struggling with another person.
Goddamn dude,
it was nothing but
I wonder why the U. S. has so many problems controllin’ that track right there. [line spoken at the end of a dream, a question I asked, a Green Beret in the dream, seeing a heavily armed train belonging to the Taliban insurgents, the track being representative of the field of Afghanistan while the U. S. was still there]
Hey come here—
wastin’ time. [heard sung by Dobie Gray, “Drift Away”]
Just don’t bombard me okay?
Go and see that
as a blockbuster. [vision of having gone to the ocean floor to see the wreck of the Titanic]
Harry Potter,
you’re tryin’ to swim
unlimited.
We’ll be right back.
That must be the phone.
Now bring meaning down to time.
I’m every bit in your skyscraper.
Bring me down-to-earth, will yah?
Get me outta here,
a lonely meaning in time.
I’m all about your reveille post.
Open up to the meanings you have missed.
I’m only there.
I should explain that this poem was posted for just a few moments on Oct. 26, 2022 and then reverted to draft so to submit to Poetry Magazine, and it took eight months for them to reply. Here is their email in regards to this poem, dated May 18, 2023:
Dear Donny Duke,
Thank you for sending your work to POETRY magazine—and thank you, too, for your patience as you waited for our response.
We won’t be publishing anything from your submission, but we wish you the best of luck in publishing it elsewhere and appreciate you sending it our way.
Thanks so much for your support of the magazine. We hope you are as safe and well as can be.
Give Me your post—
exact words
on their whole creation,
and the divine does more than just speak my words;
they are manifested,
actualized actually.
They’re all over the place.
Let’s not block the city now.
We’d spell it out now,
and can I talk from my inmost secure space
and not have you hate me for it?
Heroin,
all this
birthday
Auroville new city celebration.
You already
put it on the funeral pyre.
It’s got lands on it
Auroville doesn’t wear.
Who said Auroville to be a government city?
Can the government control that,
human unity?
You say the Mother appointed the appointee,
and where did she come from?
A government takeover of India.
Is this wrong?
Where will it lead us?
You know a Hindu state.
Are you comfortable with this,
India institutionalized by religion?
Could religious observance be required,
and to what degree?
Would you give the power to the people
to decide for themselves?
You’d list it on the bulletin board what they should do,
how they should think,
how they should act.
I think Auroville is a proving ground for this,
a model city.
You’re just excited because she’s come to town,
this government appointee,
and she’s moving things forward,
or so it seems.
What is the master plan,
a city led by the Mother?
Let’s take a minute and count our sums.
Auroville is to be the city of the new human being.
Spiritual transformation rules the day,
radical transformative steps
of inner keeping.
This is everybody’s inner wear.
You tell everybody to do it?
You hand it down by decree?
You rule it into existence?
You make it happen
by an Auroville bigger than its spheres.
It’s loosely organized
so it can happen.
It’s got so much time on it,
but first it has to begin,
and who’s doin’ it?
I think I’ve heard Muriel preaching about it.
Manifesting Auroville says it must be done.
It’s not a legalistic handover to man.
Can you come to terms with yourself?
It’s not happenin’ in your lives either.
It’s a radical change
of you do this, you do that.
Nobody can figure it out.
It’s high in the sky.
You don’t know how to look at the world without the divine.
You’ve failed this first test:
they are not divine we are.
There opens up in you a compassion
for even people who make mistakes,
even child molesters
and axe murderers.
You way with them,
give them your knowledge by identity.
That’s what you do with them
to stop them from hurting people.
No other force works,
am I right?
Knowledge by identity
is where we meet the world.
No, you don’t have this either.
What the heck?
This is an evaluation program
to see if you can talk about human unity.
That’s a spiritual vision, you know?
You just seem to think it’s a conglomerate of humanity,
a mixture of races and countries and creeds.
Well let’s look at the secretary.
She’s at a radical change of consciousness?
That’s the Mother in her steps?
How does she approach people
who say no to her policies?
There there now my child,
you rebellious little thing,
how do I obstacle you?
My mother’s love is on the table,
and let’s see about your needs
so we can get to the bottom of this.
Does she do that?
Does she have the Mother’s grace?
If that is not needed then,
who do you want to be the principle player in Auroville?
You don’t want the Mother?
Crash and burn you say,
just get things done.
It’s not the physical city you’re building.
It’s a change of consciousness.
You can’t build that with physical means.
It can’t happen in an environment of fear and loathing.
Are you sure you want Auroville?
Do you really understand its plan?
You want 50,000 residents,
or whatever greater number,
before the true work has begun?
Really?
You’re right about the sloth cabins,
the people just there to eat
a green city,
the people who just want their comfortable livin’,
but what do we do with them?
Do we just let them be?
How do you turn on a city to divine consciousness?
Preach to them?
Where is that spark?
Move thousands more people in,
and there goes the possibility.
Now let’s work on us.
Can you see that?
No method I can provide will satisfy you,
but we’d need to see the inner consciousness.
What does that look like when it’s happenin’?
How do we do it?
You open it.
You get busy with the inner consciousness.
That looks very different than Auroville of today.
It looks very different than your contribution to Auroville.
We’d need to see the city first,
have it start its development plan
in a little square one.
It can’t do that now.
In all your talk about it you’re throwin’ it away.
You’ve just let the government come in and take over.
Can we say that again?
The government of India will run Auroville,
and you’re okay with that.
I am so very sorry, you’ve lost Auroville.
We have to wait for a savior now,
and that won’t be an administrator
or any single person.
I think the world will have to come in
and take back what it rightfully owns.
How that will happen,
well, let’s wait and see.
It doesn’t work,
speak no evil.
There’s social media,
a limited engagement.
You’re robbed of your thinking.
You just can’t get along without it.
I use it to post poems.
No one listens to me.
I’m too far out there,
a lamp post.
Crud’s got your thinking.
It’s all wrapped up in stuff,
the opinion polls.
I don’t know where to begin
to tell you this is dangerous to your health.
How do we get rid of it?
We don’t.
We let it stay.
It’s horrific on our senses.
It pulls us this way and that,
and we can write on it our opinions
in user content.
That’s its value to us.
Can we stop this,
practice patience,
holy roller your pen?
I would have to explain this mule.
Can we get off of it?
No, it’s coming from your inner source of inspiration.
It’s got the light of worlds on it.
You speak because it’s an inner necessity.
You don’t really want to.
Oh my God the ploughs here.
I think we can be deluded.
Yeah, you crazy you ain’t.
How do you know which way to go?
How do you know it’s genuine?
It’s engages your life right at the node.
It’s got your guts spilled out on the page
in poetic symbols.
If it’s video art,
you're revealin’ your problems in time
where infinity meets them.
If you think you’re a realized being you’re not.
Oh my I’ve crossed lines:
I’m not a realized being
saying that.
I think we can pepper some individuals on this flagpole.
What would they sound like?
Oh my God it’s God.
Give me a link to a video
you’ve heard this on,
and let’s consider it.
Now back to the mule.
I don’t think you’re dressed up.
You don’t wear camera wear,
and I’m not talkin’ costumes, make-up.
In a creation video they’re fine.
You’re not tryin’ to say somethin’
expoundatory,
and you’re revealin’ yourself
as the origin of the video,
whatever.
You don’t expound your themes.
You’re surprised from inside
when your inspiration wants to say somethin’,
and the inspiration writes itself.
Can you follow me here?
I’m not done.
I think we clue in on Muriel
or Manifesting Auroville.
These are not divine papers.
They show and tell.
They don’t say anything
that will change your life.
They’re just there on the page
quoting masters.
They have something to say,
and with creativity and with clout,
but it’s your standard, ordinary video,
or something to say,
and it doesn’t engage the world with you.
It’s pretty and all,
sometimes,
but it doesn’t hold your hand and speak properly
like a friend.
You’re engaged
to claim supremacy over others.
I’m sorry Manifesting Auroville,
you’re not there with me
in the error of my stuff
a way station for hope.
Can we get goin’?
I’d like to talk to you,
and I’m manifestin’ Auroville too.
We’ve some things to consider
you have not.
Can that be done?
It’s just my look.
I engage you
in the pencil of a book,
in the principle of a book.
We wouldn’t start at chapters.
It’s got all the way to Israel on it,
the intro to racial equality.
It’s a big book,
and we’d start there.
Have we branded Auroville?
We’ve hit it right on the head,
the exponential of Auroville.
Do join us.
Their love of yoga,
all that had to do with the divine.
The divine is alive and well on Planet Earth.
He sees you.
Can you hear ‘im?
Made out to be a man,
but really She’s a woman,
when you get right down to pictures of Her
in the caretaker of Her smile.
A Mother Might looks out on the world,
and we are all the better for it.
Let’s change some,
become ourselves again,
as children see the world:
it glows,
oohs and aahs;
it’s bigger than us,
and we love it.
Gimmie the beat boys and free my soul. [heard sung by Dobie Gray, “Drift Away”]
You know how it feels,
so good to be alive.
Thank you Mother.
Now I’m dancin’ on this ice.
I don’t know how to explain this.
Oh Mother,
that’s not You in Pondicherry,
but I think we lifted You up
when we adored her feet.
I call on You through her,
as our yoga sees the world,
and in perfect deity fashion,
that woman in Pondicherry helps.
She’s in my living room.
Now do we count blessings?
I am in the arms of the Mother, you know?
She fills out for me
the way to move forward.
I call on her some,
but she is not my image of God.
I mean like I do sit in her lap,
pettin’ my Rottweiler,
but I’m lookin’ at God.
I can tell you a lot about deity.
There are waves of them.
I listen to them all the time.
I mean, I hear them speak.
I’m not always at their beck and call,
and I’m choosy.
I want those Sun voices way up there.
They’re wonderful.
They have our divinity all over them.
They gauge us there,
and they point us to God,
the supreme all-encompassing universe
that existence can light,
and it’s a conscious Individual all things are.
Don’t let my words get in the way.
God is how we meet the One on its time.
I’m talking big you understand.
All this agency gets down to us,
the level of existence we’re at—
I think I just heard God.
God will talk to you in spheres.
That’s what divinity is for,
and each time we mistake the day for the sun.
Conversations with God
are conversations with some deity.
How much freedom to understand that.
It’s yoga based,
if you want to know the truth.
We want to be God’s lovers here on earth.
We want to know God here on earth.
We want to see God here on earth,
see God in everything we see,
and one day,
God will ride us
who we are in time.
I’m breakin’ in on barriers
to show you God,
and these words have failed I know
to overcome that last barrier,
to understand God real in this sentence.
Can you light the fire of God?
This is not a proverbial question.
I’m askin’ ‘cause it hurts
you if you don’t,
hurts you in the fundamental ground of reality.
You can envision no one cares.
You can’t smuggle up to reality
and say this is safe.
You don’t know how to tie your shoe,
and that’s lacin’ the world
through your fingers
a project that smiles.
You’re just all bummed out
because the wonder of it all
is insufficient
to pick you up and carry you along
when you’re so discouraged you just want to die.
And I gettin’ through?
The fire of God is lightable on our time.
It’s not a deity wear,
some figure of God
asking for your allegiance.
It will burn off all this.
It will be bigger than time.
It won’t sit in an abode and judge you.
It will with the universe hold your hand.
How do you get there?
You need God.
Oh man I can’t get this through.
People will kill you if you don’t,
or the world will fall in.
Look out,
I’m tellin’ yah how to find God.
It’s need determines present,
and I don’t know how you make those conditions,
but when you’re a pedophile they come naturally.
That’s the price of your hate:
I get God and you don’t
anywhere near I’m showin’ Him to yah.
God hates sinners,
that’s a lie.
Oh my little child,
come let’s give you a bath.
You’ve gotten muddy again.
If you let Me I’ll get you outta there.
And then ensues the relationship.
You just don’t know God.
Or do you?
Come let us love together.
High and mighty,
I don’t see you in God.
Take pictures of Sri Aurobindo.
I’ve blossomed him,
brought out his yoga to the ground floor.
You’ll just think I’m lying,
the worshippers of Sri Aurobindo.
I’m golden atlas.
It’s not Sri Aurobindo I’m seein’.
You know the Supermind’s on the Earth.
I’m tailin’ it in.
Oh my God airplanes,
now look at this one.
It’s bigger than science.
It’s a cash card.
It’s the right way to do Earth.
It’s not forced.
It doesn’t have any artificial barriers between you
and what you’re supposed to do.
It’s not a morality flag.
It brings a different formula into the equation.
How big is this?
It heals time.
I’ve got roads on.
I push reality through the basin of time.
Shut up and go to sleep—
a reader quibs in.
Alright I’ll admit it.
It’s the supramental.
It’s very intense,
but it’s the supramental
has ahold of my paper.
I’m telling you what the decision is:
they are to occur the region.
Heavy regions,
girls we gotta absolve the conflict.
You put it in right there,
make the supramental the way we handle evil.
We don’t just military our paper.
Let me let you take a short look at that.
And then I realized something:
how does an honest criminal realize their mistake?
You banish them
forever.
Agency,
now to realize the Mother and Sri Aurobindo’s,
yeah, exactly.
Ensues the conversation.
Are you gonna be prepared?
I will be honest;
I didn’t know your name
Impossible.
Let’s get one thing straight, surrender to God,
it becomes possible right now.
God is the answer God is the key,
and the beauty is it’s not abstract.
You get here to this post God is holding your hand.
You can hear Him speak.
You can feel His power.
You can bask in His love.
You can see Him in everything that touches you I do.
Can we get anymore cornered than that?
God’s got you cornered,
and you can overcome any behavior.
You can do anything.
Okay those are the big city lights.
Wow, I’ve just described to you how the world was won.
Put that credit in my court,
and let’s celebrate the world together.
I mean not smoking and not being attached to smoking either.
So this rare new style
is upon the Earth today,
and as my teachers told me,
I put it there,
I and they.
Car commander,
be the example to everyone.
You have my permission.
Individuality under the Lord, you know?
I could do it before I found these lyrics,
lost lyrics,
as you won’t find them
until that thing happens
whereby one sees a poem
and gets other people to see it.
That mystery engagement with poetry,
I’m at a loss to understand.
Better thank a look,
knock out reader.
You know, have a nice day.
Make civilian source,
make civilian ready,
I am on my way
in the literary of my smile,
in the literacy of everybody’s smile.
Now here.
Is this Heaven? [vision with this line of being in a narrow exhibition space and colorful, extraordinary photographs on the walls all around me, more colorfully extraordinary ones appearing as I’m asking this question]
Your vanity
has registered a trip.
Oh excuse the mule,
he’s a real piece of work.
But I’m still comfort in,
and I’m standin’ by at your house,
if you ever wanna change the world
you live in.
How do you want me to be?
How to dream afterwards.
Tell this to the press corps:
I’m proud of yah;
you stopped killin’ people
on death row
(Oh BBC do you hear me?
That was pressure to kill
the Parkland shooter,
who you wanted killed.
Now on with the scroll),
and got the news ready
to see the criminal as a human being
you care about even though they did somethin’.
And there that’s my piece.
Not from institution to move along:
to auto-flash cooking
that old traditional paper just reports on.
We put it in user-generated content.
Hello gatekeeper, keep up.
Now there,
I got your number,
don’t I?
Supergame,
everybody listen to Hairy.
He’s got somethin’
make us all better people.
You out to lunch?
Glad you could join us,
as you left your sin and came over to help us.
Why do you all try to help?
We care,
which means
we grow up to care,
and everybody learns the three R’s
while they’re learnin’ this—
the whole import of school,
and can you tell me why not?
Newspapers here,
I gave you a way to make yourselves better.
Read this
to the public:
let’s teach our children to care,
and we solve all human-made problems
if we care about everybody.
How simple that is to see,
how horrible
we are blind to it,
and science-based gets us there?
Here’s where science fails:
it can’t see God,
and God alone cares.
We’re done.
The root of all papers,
and I’m figurin’ time.
What would you quib here,
I don’t see the import of your paper?
And if you said that
I don’t think you care
or even write home—
a poetry blush,
I mean practice for enlightenment.
Do we all come along?
Spiritual enlightenment,
it happens one person at a time.
I didn’t end this properly.
Let’s end this properly.
Okay where does your paper take us,
so long and thanks for all the fish?
At a human
let’s all look Christmas.
I mean study love
as the foundation of society.
Would I be talking to a brick wall?
He discovered that his Crimea life had to change.
I’m not talking about the pencil box.
We’re seein’ movies:
all eyes on the outer scene and you're in the movie.
How do I concentrate?
Remove obstacles.
Look at your life in purpose.
Don’t just stand there and stare at things.
I don’t know how to engage this.
Look at that rice on your plate.
Does it need you?
Yet it exists.
I need another metaphor.
There’s a dog in the corner.
It’s barking.
It’s baking.
It’s just lost in its own movement, you see?
You put yourself in everything you’re lookin’ at.
Can you give a free look,
free of charge?
Just look,
no questions asked.
This is less painful.
It’s not up and down.
The Source is just a remover of boundaries.
The Source won’t last long on my time.
I’m a question paper.
In this instructional video,
can we suddenly lick my nose,
make mean somethin’?
I wanna apply this to life
in the substance of my hands.
We process thought
so your hands help the world sunshine.
This even in the substance of your genitals
and how your dick holds the world when you look out upon the world.
Why the sudden graphic video?
Attention readers,
I think I got yours.
Once we go down there it’s hard to come back up, you know?
even in a poem.
I study reality whether you believe it or not.
I put divine values on everything.
Now I’m learnin’ to not bother with me.
A thousand runs will there it is.
We don’t want to invest reality with our stuff
in the substance of our see.
We want to be free in that look.
It’s like the doorbell rings,
and you’re not concerned about it.
You do not enter the picture.
Can you get that look?
It’s hard to bear/keep. [words spoken simultaneously]
There are so many things pressing on your mind.
This is thought control
at its most basic.
Can you see reality from here?
It’s got lines in it.
Crossing them means you.
A monkey sees that
swingin’ from tree to tree.
You can’t see that in your living room.
You’re not involved in yourself in reality,
unless your reality needs that look.
It’s screamin’ at yah.
Can get that look
on death row.
Reality has you by the balls,
and you see yourself too much.
This is freedom from spheres.
You have a long way to go
to freedom yourself,
oh world of my sunshine.
It’s not a substance of thought.
Your reality changes
the ground of consciousness has.
Wow, this is frightful
if you haven’t bubbled into it over time.
There’s no room for it,
with your leavin’ everything,
and you don’t know how to handle zero,
and everything’s still around you.
We’’ll get to that later.
It’s the culmination
culminated elsewhere.
This poem doesn’t go that far.
Here you just let go
of you as you stare at things.
photo by Donny
Anyway I’ve got a limited ordinary sword. [vision putting the image for poem here]
I can’t seem to see the forest for the trees.
It’s hot stuff,
because it’s got so much reality behind it,
but still there’s ordinary consciousness there.
Can you count the trees?
Can you even tell the difference
between a reality bin
and ‘can you see the trees’?
I am a lineman for the county. [heard sung by Glen Campbell, “Wichita Lineman”]
You’ve tripped up everybody—
a line you make.
Will it ever join reality?
We’d have to look at my poems awhile and see.
No one’s taking them to the picture show.
What form is that?
Can you get rid of me?
You’re not packaged reality.
I think the reader said that.
This is traditional English in the mass.
Where do all these bubbles come from?
A larger reality
that makes passes at reality
and even cowardly reality.
Much more was in conflict after Zelenskyy’s assassination.
Can we make Zelenskyy any bigger?
Planets and rallies in the corner,
the poet the symbol is a metaphor of.
This is so on your feet.
This is so operation from your mystery.
His society refuses him to speak.
You heard his poetry anyway—
lessons in accountability.
Alright throw him away for now,
and just look at bare reality.
It’s there behind the poem.
She was always ahead of the Path.
Can clear at any moment,
and she just keeps engagin’ in stuff until it does.
Do you want to see my failure in things?
It’s listed on the net.
And there it is.
Man it came to me at dawn:
I am now gonna make it to the top of the world,
with or without you. [heard sung by U2, “With or Without You”]
Do you hear my drivin’ point?
My freedom from midnight,
from all expressions of evil.
Can you hear that power?
It’s right where you least suspect it.
It’s in your living room.
Pick me up will yah?
Get into the rest of that television
mobilized for enlightenment.
Cheerio.
You can say he went to the doctor.
A lot comes out of that.
Good and clean,
those are the eyes.
Hallelujah.
A guy that’s on the net.
It’s on the net.
I not been poet before.
Spirits in my head and they won’t go. [line heard sung by the Strumbellas, “Spirits”]
We’re shoppin’ for cars.
Can’t find a one in your neighborhood.
Bubble me up please.
This is Ranger.
I’m calculating science.
You don’t understand the net.
I’ll make a video
to make everyone laugh
so I can feel special inside.
I’ll waste my time here.
I don’t know what to say.
Can you do it,
make meaning out of worth?
A horrible commotion
the whole damn net.
Where do we put it?
I’m sure some voices rise.
Some everywhere.
Let’s not fudge with it.
Let’s put meaning on there.
Can you mean somethin,
make us all grow,
like we mean something?
Where is it
the meaning of this paper?
I think you’ve thrown me away.
The net’s speaking me.
Can you hear that?
Can you show your inmost self on TV?
Just one rupee sir,
and we’ll have taxes of course.
See that net?
You won’t be a voice talking.
We won’t take you there.
Do I wanna go down there,
to a person’s imaginary poet world?
Nah,
I read a few lines.
I think we’re good.
What’s he gonna say,
meaning?
Throw that poet away.
I’ve got an appetite for stuff.
Many rules gonna get broken
for the net value.
You are not prepared for its worth.
You just think it’s ticklin’ time.
It’s like a Ouija Board.
Who moved that dial?
Quagmire.
I think you read me loud and clear.
Now let’s test this boat.
Too heavy for us.
I know;
you can’t do it,
wash your hands with Jewish genitals
and save the world.
See how smart you are.
You can’t get your head down your pants.
You need to go really, really, slow.
That book will scare you,
Between Jerusalem I’m Sorry.
Read that book.
It’s an understand the world book,
not just human genitals.
In this book they’re just redeemed.
Can you see Jerusalem?
Oh my God he’s on paper,
the Internet,
the whole world.
Green light,
oh we can go back
and change something
if it didn’t work.
What am I supposed to do,
with QAnon
and that whole Trump’s the savior mess?
Let’s get them meet the press
and it’s we lose our democracy
if they’re voted in.
You okay?
It’s in Nature to stick up like that.
This is a long poem,
exact words.
Give it with me,
the meaning of life.
Back them I didn’t realize, well,
your anxiety’s gonna come up.
I’m sorry,
give yourself a tight squeeze.
We’re handlin’ the book.
This poem needs a picture.
Who Hannah?
She’s a lovely dog.
Leading a dog
to where we belong in time.
Must be some book,
leading a dog through time.
You got my wolf?
I think it’s your wolf actually.
Anyway read the book.
Is that my measurement?
Yes sweetheart.
This person is solvin’ the world.
You got that Houston?
Which asks you to stretch.
It's not fun for The Family Guy either.
Small snake bite—
you won’t get away with it,
no matter how you read it,
without it doin’ you some number.
Enjoy it;
this is the end of the world
that doesn’t know its origin.
You’re headed for a disaster,
oh world we live in,
if you can’t bring this book to light,
or its ideas on some other page.
Look I’m talkin’ to yah straight.
No other book has the power
to bring you to change.
You mean it
where this book is bound to you,
and that’s a doctor,
the one you need right now.
You think I’m exaggerating.
It’s all in the book,
and I’ve just mentioned time.
Can you see that far?
I don’t think you’re even lookin’.
History has a book party.
I think you’ll find this book
in its Rolodex.
You’re not listenin’.
You’ve watched too many commercials.
I reader
am in the whole thing.
Read it
and don’t look back.
You want extra-terrestrial contact
I should ask.
I’m not talking about the one in spaceships.
This is bigger than words.
Okay talk to the world
the very nature of its see.
I’m showin’ you that
extra-terrestrial.
No other formula has it
quite to this degree.
You understand me?
The nature of the universe will talk to yah
in large poetry ships,
and the prose will just knock you sideways.
All in a day’s work
in that book.
You take it from here.
Anyway, let’s call most everybody:
what do you want to do when you grow up?
You want to be mountain and feel pregnant with the world?
Excellent,
I got it.
I got your book,
and we’re right here
in the lighthouse
Pondicherry U.S.A.
to the spirit of India,
where star wars meets the Earth
in Israel.
You got that car?
I’m drivin’ it down the street.
Hop in.
We’re happenin’.
We're leadin' a book through time.
an illustration by Margaret C. Cook for a 1913 addition of Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass
A poem by Donny Lee Duke
He did.
He figured it out.
You haven’t seen it.
Oh my God no one has even read it.
What is your name?
A holistic reader.
There’s a lot of censorship
of the ideas that make the world.
The world ran out of culture.
It couldn’t see itself.
It didn’t care.
It couldn’t come up with itself.
It just stayed where it was.
It didn’t know where it was.
It had no means for improvement.
It was small and intimate.
It was huge and dim.
It didn’t know where to begin.
It’s stomped on itself.
It raced ahead.
It lagged behind.
It wore horns no one could grasp.
We sit here and stare at it today,
just confused by what we see.
This was self-taught,
how we reach out and touch the world.
It didn’t come in the papers.
It wasn’t on the Internet.
No course in university taught it.
No book could grasp the whole.
It wasn’t in speech.
You couldn’t find it anywhere.
Everybody was afraid of it.
They thought it would bite them.
How to reach out and touch the whole
came from inner experience.
It was deeper than the world.
It really tested your boundaries,
and you had no choice but to surrender to its process.
It had your very being at heart.
It schooled you,
showed the inside of everything.
You never saw it completely.
You just handled it with care.
It would eat you alive
if you affronted its mission.
You understood it was a Larger you.
You saw it dream
a nation of particulars.
It gave you vision,
spoke to you with the inner voice.
You held it close to you
and processed its thought
into the unknown.
Great the days lay
the seat-point of vision.
You just studied reality
absolved in yourself.
You had no way to communicate this to men,
wherever you came from.
No poem would read it,
no prose spell it out.
The visual arts could not express it,
no drama act it out,
no dance routine show it,
even in its living room.
It was beyond itself.
If you got life that need a poet,
I’m your subject right here.
Now go floss
with the rest of that form.
You’ve left something incomplete.
If I just listen,
I’d find it out numbers me.
I’ve encountered a different verse.
Its form is amplified by common speech.
There is the line.
Give me back my lunch;
I can do nothing with the way it works.
See there
you’ve been taken in.
Now tell me I’m a Great Lake I’m ready to play.
Now tell me I was murdered.
You know I just heard the news and wrote it down.
I’m a five star hotel,
and I’ve got the muse
in poetry form.
I mean inner voices speak.
It’s the divine muse of poetry.
How raw and off the cuff.
It has every name involved.
It won’t leave you alone.
Now say I’m silly
understanding prose.
All is said
to top off the mountain,
to be a governor unto itself,
to let you fly in the word.
How could that be?
I don’t think I got all freaked out about it
as grey mountain.
The poetry of redemption lands here,
the upper money.
I will just let you fuck me,
give in.
I’m about to be homeless.
That death I was telling you about,
they take my sky away from me.
The ground of silence eats me up.
I become a Silent Mind.
Realization proves my calling.
There’s nothing else
to realize:
we’re in love
with the whole thing,
each business and everybody.
We grok this.
It’s standin’ on your shoe.
Great the papers play
in the immediate seat of your room.
Welcome to the lost word.
That’s the sound of silence,
a preface to Enlightenment.
A shortcut,
I can write it down.
What else
can we do?
Headphones surround—
you’re hearin’ the interior music.
You’ve opened up that wide.
Wrap up some milk
left you some poetry.
This is your ticket.
For you it would be nice
right here:
the grinding of the dog.
I’m a farmer.
This is my business.
I keep business spoken.
Pinecones have left to a civilization.
What are you guys?
TikTok
describin’ the universe,
time of missed a keyframe
and causality.
Whether you want to or not,
the movie echo system.
You said what?
Reality in this page.
I’m gonna listen to yah.
Good mornin’.
I’ll loosen poetry I’ll listen.
Find that way offshore.
But Enlightenment seeks.
Ask her about the whole thing.
Did you tell ‘im you’ll take the horses,
make that your team?
Not that saying but keep
outside science,
and never cry wolf.
Read my full exposed.
My hands are tied.
Make me feel better.
Make me feel so much better.
We’re in this cut;
at least our voices aren’t.
He actually science.
Cosmopolitan
I understood it,
no doubt.
He’s right in front of me.
I could sing up here for hours.
I have everything I need to start the revolution.
I’m a purpose.
I want a bigger world.
You can keep me out as long as you can.
I’m not gonna die.
I’m gonna change consciousness.
Look me over.
I’m real.
I am so very real.
You can’t get around me.
It’s reality I’m showin’ you,
all holistically laid out.
You can dance all you want.
Reality’s not goin’ anywhere.
It’s on the way to you,
even if you don’t want it.
Reality’s comin’ for you.
Hold your head up high and embrace it.
A poem with your name on it Marginalian.
Poetry works
I can’t ignore.
She’s busy,
clean up what happened:
showed herself a calloused human being,
with no feelings at all
for the man everybody hates.
There is no Whole behind the whole—
she shows you what that does to you
when you believe that.
You don’t have to love everybody,
and you can pick and choose.
You don’t even have to treat them human.
Your ethics just come from ground zero,
and you make ‘em up on the spot.
Okay Riviera,
let’s see you explore your consciousness.
Can you do that?
Wow, have you blocked things.
You will not be happy with yourself
on the other side.
Maria Popova,
live up to your ideals,
and that intelligence of yours,
taking it
to some encounter on the inside
you see the whole,
you see it all means somethin’.
Put your finger on it,
and let us hear your own source material.
Has the jacket,
a lonely packet,
of quoting the right material.
That’s starfish.
It says more than what you want it to say.
Okay I’m outta here.
I have to let you everything,
be a work in progress
understand human.
I’m reminding myself
of what I’ve been taught.
You can have this.
It’s a seer’s wisdom.
Handle it with care.
They were talking about
y’all are choosing the apartment
you’re gonna let this seer in.
I’ve reached out to so many people
over the years.
A big no they wouldn’t even tell me,
usually.
They just read me and tossed me aside.
Put up his banner,
that’s where we go.
Who stole the cones?
You know it’s not coming.
You’re here for the Rachel Carson.
Write someone back.
You never had more powerful that was the end of the game.
One of the ones that let me in,
that touched my soul,
profound mailbox.
I came homeless
year after year after year.
We’re good.
We don’t understand your concept,
the jolt in the room.
Let’s keep busy
so we don’t have to reply.
Is this license
to just take the trouble to ignore someone?
Seldom I got a reply.
The root task
and how profound it is.
It’s indeed the world.
It’s indeed larger than the universe.
I can’t carve this out for you.
I can only sing.
I don’t know the Rumpelstiltskin of your life’s work.
Your struggles are a Banyan tree to me.
See the consciousness there?
It has handles on it.
Study books and thought process,
I don’t think you’ll arrive at the explanation of the universe.
Can we hold a tree?
What do we do with time?
How do we say the world to ourselves?
Do you hear the inner speech?
It’s spoken softly in so many inner ears.
You’re readin’ it.
It’s what you hold in your hands
in an ancient text of wisdom.
Not everyone has the fire.
Not everyone can read the text right.
And we’ve come back to your story:
not everyone has the inner fire,
though they long to see the universe as it is,
though they long to be more than what they are.
Can you grasp this?
You light it that way:
the object of your romance with time
the inner fire
to see the Invisible.
I think you’ve accredited universities with this task.
I think you’ve stopped at representations.
I think you’ve stopped at outer process.
Hidden meaning.
Self-doubt see
in your own blue pen.
Who am I cooking?
Jessica Frazier
the academic.
Have a little
finger pointing in your own direction.
The TVS fixed.
It was incredibly difficult.
Why do you believe in miracles?
I’m standing one.
You hear my measurements?
The boy in the yard.
Bigger then reality
I have not made them.
For years I’ve been sending emails to scientists and academics, or I’ve commented on a tweet of theirs, usually with links to something I’ve written involving inner exploration. Less than a handful of times have I gotten a reply, and when I have it’s just to express thanks for reading them, not to engage me over the importance of such experience. This is the latest example of such an email. If you’ve been reading my latest poems, I’m trying to show where we fail as a world. Here, it was not from reasons of moral outrage, but it was one of the titanic: the best minds aren’t. It was from an ‘expert’, i.e., a person influencing world opinion on an official level, in this case a person assigning meaning to the world, not listening to someone trying to get their attention, someone who just might have something valuable to add to the conversation. Click on the link at the end of the email, read the article, and tell me that’s just not possible.
[Subject of email] “Communicating with someone, and learning what they have to teach us…
learning to adapt our view to the information they give.” From your YouTube video Gadamer. Hello, I’ve just read your article in Psyche“Ancient Indian texts reveal the liberating power of metaphysics”. I’d like to get to the heart of the matter as quickly as possible please. “We can do something extraordinary: our mental parts can climb out of the window of the body, and up into the higher levels of reality.” What a wonderful statement worded so well, but are you speaking literally of actual hands on spiritual experience, or are you talking about using your imagination and having high thoughts? I think it’s the latter, and it’s precisely here your article doesn’t capture truth, that being what’s actually going on or has. “I might live in 2022 in Oxford, but I can share the experiences of persons in Thailand or the US, and imagine different lives I might have lived. With the help of scientists and philosophers, I understand levels of the cosmos that lie beyond the senses, and can access realities, values or ideas that cannot be destroyed with any mere physical body.” What it seems not only you are missing, but also the scientific establishment and the humanities, as university teaches them, is that it’s possible to have the experiences that the mystics (or metaphysicians describe). They are not only basing their ideas on the use of their imagination or on their thoughts. Many if not most are basing them on firsthand experience. Furthermore, though beyond this email, the authors of the Upanishads and the Vedas did not compose their writings but heard them via the inner voice. Do you know the meaning of Agni in this context? In other words, the texts came whole and ready made from their inner vision, one or a few lines at a time, and they wrote them down, something not possible unless you’ve had the experiences the texts they wrote describe, what would open a Rishi or seer to such inner vision.
Although I can give ample examples of the latter, the inner voice writing one’s seer-poetry (you can look that up if you want), I will only give an example of the heart of the matter of the email. It would be quite something if you even read it. There’s just so much vying for our attention, and something from out of the blue and from someone unknown, well, that’s usually what automatically gets sacrificed to the expediency of time:
Yes of course you can go beyond man.
I felt the house alone.
I stood there on a bridge of time,
not expecting outcomes.
I just saw reality.
It was frozen bare,
and it challenged me to think
surpassing thought.
I was alone in the room,
and even Nitish was there
and my beloved dogs.
I heaved,
approaching the Silence.
It was an illusive prey.
Infinity stole my mind.
It grabbed me by the Silence.
I was a good day.
I cooked lunch,
did my duties
and took care of the people around me.
They were fighting their own battles
and needed my help.
I stood there and be a friend.
I listened to myself
giving them what they need.
I was withdrawing from time.
I stared at the gates of forever.
It orange glowed.
I gathered myself.
I didn’t have any pockets.
Things were to me on the shelf.
I craved no vital indulgence.
I was tired of the play.
Relaxing it was just to stop my thoughts.
It stood upon a verge of time
unaccompanied by time.
I was in that place where God was
the spectator in the room.
Sri Aurobindo held my hand.
The Mother surrounded me.
I loved myself,
faults and all,
but I was in transit from the center of the room.
I was beginning to smile.
I was beginning to hold water,
reacting less to things around me,
but still a reaction bore.
It was a principled state
that divined the reality of others to themselves.
I felt them Self with me.
I felt them safe with me
reacting less and less.
The world was a communiqué and a sound.
Still I was hated
in Auroville
and by the yoga.
No one looked at me
with kind eyes.
I understood and did not hate in return.
I continued to send them postcards:
help me
undo being this outcast among you.
It fell on deaf ears.
I was pariah.
Hello?
Great big bold thoughts,
when they looked at me,
gave them pause to think
for one second.
That’s it.
No one would talk to me,
except to brush me off.
I realized the condition of man.
We are animals in nearness to each other,
even when we have our high ideals
and so many rhymes to sing.
When you’re an outcast you see that.
We are stuck in our ways,
and change is a four-letter word
when you hit that most basic stuff,
someone’s morality,
their motherland,
their lens with which they view the world.
Can you tell me what changes minds,
open hearts
to what they are closed to?
What a position I’m in to learn that.
Our race is doomed,
and the divine has chosen the wrong race to foster.
Change is incremental and slow,
if it happens at all.
But then I look in my own eyes
and see what’s happening with me.
Oh my God we have a chance.
Oh my God we have a chance.
How do you fill in light?
How do you bring change into the room?
You bring change into the room.
It won’t come any other way.
Okay children?
Harm's End 