Category: Inner Voice and Vision

The Last Podcast

On By Donny Lee DukeIn Dreams, Inner Voice and Vision, Nitish's YouTube channelLeave a comment

Video Description

Reality
You were crying and trying to hide your tears.
Nithish, do not fake it.
Only 500 meters
to where you’re home again.

You have some tears to show Nithish,
your thoughts of suicide,
your pain at the world,
the unspoken madness.

Let it all come gushing out,
safely, wholly,
by pounding on your parents’ foreheads
let me live with daddy!
Now that’s the vehicle in the room.
Come on kid let’s go.
Now baby dog.

Dominance
next
undo.
They lord it over you.

You want to come to America,
and that’s your airport,
your insistence on seeing me.
That’s your offering.
You give it to that boy in you
you have not let the world see—
I really wanna see daddy I can’t take it.

For about a year and some months, from the beginning of 2022 to October of 2023, Nithish, Mithun, Douglas and I did a post cast on the interpretation of dreams called The Dream Company. The podcast ended in our last recorded episode, Episode 56, recorded on October 1, 2023, which has not been posted yet on our podcast site but which I present here.

Two minutes and 51 seconds into the podcast, Nithish relates a dream and interprets it in regard to his need to live with me here at the lake full time, and we discuss the abuse that was happening to him at that time at the hands of his parents, when we had no idea what would happen in a few months time, that he would be taken from me and suffer much worse abuse, which he predicts in the video-poem Edge of the Game when he says, “Well, next time bad spirits of school Nazis.”

In interpreting his dream we did recognize that it was a prevision of the future, but we just did not imagine that that future was many months away and not days. That future that he predicted in the dream has not happened yet, as he’s not got the power he has in the dream, has not overcome the biggest bully in his school, and his mother has not brought him to the lake and left him here, all of which happen in the dream. We await it to come to pass.

I relate my own dream next in the podcast, but I interpreted it wrongly. My worry over Nithish at that time did not equate being smothered by a python, but now with what his mother has done after she took him from me does. By not allowing us any contact with one another, it’s been like having the life squeezed out of me by a huge snake; the grief has almost killed me. So my dream was a prevision of the future too, but I could not imagine at the time what it really meant until the events the dream foretells came to pass. That the Mother assures me at the end of the dream that I will be rescued gives me the same hope that Nithish’s dream gives me, and that is that he will be back with us soon.

That hope is further broadcast by muse, spiritual vision, giving the name of this video and asking what I’d done with things just the other morning at dawn. I wasn’t thinking about our podcast and hadn’t in some time, and I didn’t remember the content of our last recorded episode, didn’t have the slightest idea what we talked about in it. It just came out of the blue because my muse, which is a divine power, has the power of omniscience, and it knew what we recorded nine months ago and also knew that now was the right moment for the boy to hear what he needs to hear, and for his parents and everyone else involved. With that kind of magic supporting us, we have more than hope; we have faith given to us by the divine. Will the divine lose? Wait and see, but we can also ask if the sun is coming up in the morning. Do you think it won’t?

Even True Meaning Rated Art

On By Donny Lee DukeIn childhood education, ego activism, Inner Voice and Vision, PoetryLeave a comment
Martin Luther King Jr. at the Controls by Donny Lee Duke
The three best ways to keep a lovin’ song down:
keep it under wraps;
tear it apart;
or get it morally censored.
What will happen to this song?
Change the world
in person.

Chronos’ fuckin’ with ‘im.
What do we do with inner process?
Figure it out?
It’s discrepancy,
and I’m tired of it.
I can’t see anything straight.
What do I do?

Move off campus.
You mean not listen to You?
Don’t dwell on thought.
Don’t just sit there and think.
Try something different.
Image real to yourself.
Play with your thoughts as reality in front of your face.
You’re lookin’ at the world
you’re lookin’ at your thought.

Try this at home.
Image reality to yourself
where people really get your goat
they know you so well.
Try not to open the door with thought.
Be a blank mind.
Stretch this
to infinity.

Don’t stop tryin’.
Your effort is your sadhana.
This is not success or fail.
This is do.
You savvy sweetheart?

I wil try.
As I was sayin’:
I don’t trust inner process
to tell me what to do
in that moment in life.

Otherwise make it happen
to change the world,
and you know it can.
Why resist?

That little boy,
this goes deep,
the relationship I’m having with him.
It’s complicated in poetry.
Our lives are in sync.
We share thoughts and boundaries.
Our inner lives are in sync.
We temple together.
There’s a line of his muse
in my poetry
when he didn’t see it in my poetry.
I hear this and celebrate
close ties,
eyes that join
in inner vision.

Is this too much for him?
He’s just a kid.
I’m glad you asked.
You’re the engineer.
The little boy spills all in front of you.
You teach him how to handle himself,
play poetry,
what his nature house.
I never gave him the thought.
It just occurred
when the Mother,
the Mother and Sri Aurobindo,
they took that boy by the hand.
He became Their disciple.

Would you believe a bolt of lightning hit him in the chest
standing before Their last darshan couch
Supermental Day last?
That’s how it started.
The opening came then.
I was there to facilitate it,
to open him to God.
I am his sadhana master,
and that’s the basis of our relationship.

There’s no monkeys in the house.
I don’t cancel him down.
She’s had the dog
in her parents' room,
when they abuse
where the line are.
When it’s my turn
to be his parental figure,
I’m very careful with those lines.

I know he’s angry
about getting slapped and beat,
threatened with death.
Ice cream
I buy for him every day
in my care.
We talked about that.
We called it moral-minded.
I thought you understood
you don’t raise a kid with rules.
You can,
if you want a kid bound by rules.

I’m the horse guy look at me.
Put it right in your phone,
desire coming up.
Don’t put a hold on it.
Be free and easy with it.
Don’t stay there.
What’ll I do with it?
Put it in the iTunes Store,
avoid that button.
Just sit with it clear and easy.
Don’t let it push you.
Don’t give in to it.
Don’t even tickle your fancy with it.

We don’t beat it.
We sit it out,
wait it out.
It’s not wrong it’s just there.
It’s a smelling salts for reality.
It’s unique to you,
why would you say that?
Everybody has to deal with this.
We regulate it
with a host of laws and penalties
as if they work.
We do not let it be an excuse
for behavior.
Freewill comes into play
we are told.

We disclose it to each other.
We are ashamed by it.
We have children,
we block this sight from our own view.
We don’t see it
in our hands as we wash them,
in our eyes
as we see them so fabulously naked.
It’s there,
and time will show it to you,
if you look.

We run with this?
We don’t eat kids.
They’re special.
They are in the room
when we see it
in ourselves,
when desire comes up.
Desire comes and goes.
It’s in everybody’s life.
It has to be handled.
It has to be seen,
seen real.

We don’t play with it
around our children,
if we can help it.
That leads to dead ends,
and children get spanked and smacked on
and get molested.
You know this is true.
Don’t let it entertain your monkey.
I’ve given other examples
the right way sex can be with kids
in “The Use of Animal Freedom”.

Hear that one,
where sex and kids meet wrong today.
To Rumble’s house
farther to go.
Tamil Nadu,
a door of a red handle,
punch out man.
Tamil Nadu,
stay away from the red door.
Don’t beat your children,
slap them,
punch them around.
They’re precious to you.
Do you hear them scream?

I think this is written all over your paper.
Children don’t have it easy with you.
They suffer.
You don’t know this.
You can’t see your own hands
Mr. and Mrs. Abuse Children.

I call this up from the deeps.
It was that way with me
when I was little.
Now my kid has made me mad,
done something wrong,
or just bothered me.
Then it all comes up again,
my unhappy kid-dom,
and I operate on program.
I don’t care the position he’s in.
I just start slappin’.
I don’t know this hurts him
in his developmental function.
I have that right.
I’m his parent.
Thank you God.

What’s happening here?
Desire has found its home
in a socially approved response mechanism.
It’s condemned on TV.
The presenters themselves
wack their kids
off camera.
I can compare this to touching a vagina
in a little girl’s life,
but you don’t know this is more harmful,
hitting them in the head.

I’m sorry I’ve made you mad.
You don’t know the power of violence over children’s lives.
You don’t know the power of sex over children’s lives.
Both harm.
One gets out the shotgun.
A sexual cannon no.
Mr. and Mrs. Abuse-Their-Kids,
pay attention please.

Where thoughts occur,
it’s not a bright and shiny place,
is laced with uncertainty.
It’s all on holdin’ the world wrong.
You see this you look.
The Whole looks at us.
The fragment looks back.
We are separate beings in time,
an erroneous vision.

Whatta we say about thought?
It arises.
It comes.
It’s there.
And a tenebrous unknown
has the thinker’s brow.
What gulfs lit the night
when we looked at the world for the first time
in the handicap of thought.
It pressurizes time.
It makes of us mincemeat.
It will not stop even for death,
what narrow bridge that is.
You seen it?

How special thought is
to make sense of the world,
to help us help or slay one another,
to give us more feeding room,
to come up with plans,
to turn around and change the world.
It hammers nails
on the fence of time,
held apart in yummy synchronicity,
modes of thought,
and get some answers—
quite the hero.
Do you get me?
I get yah dog.

Put your blue down it doesn’t stink.
It just sits in the powder.
These are the conditions.
You’re talkin’ about that boy, ain’t yah?
Don’t worry,
I have the edification.
I’m gonna spell it out to you.
We have a different choice.
You’re not gonna bust us up.
You’re not gonna hurt him
or me.
You’re not gonna regulate our relationship.
You’re gonna leave us alone.
Humanity needs this vision.
We play the game.
We don’t commode.
We be convenient.
We are open to you.

Two seers in time
startle vision.
We're not gonna compromise vision.
We’re going to remain loyal and true
to our seership.
That boy,
a man he will become.
Housed under my roof?
And in line with his truth.

You can use another poet
who can bring down Earth
on the stars of Heaven,
let them know our plight
and our road beyond them.
Here we’re playin’
some Krishna tune.
We are a bright and shiny love in the wells of time.
We do not make you stink.
We are Heaven and Earth together,
and we are seers of the Sun of Truth.

Throw all that over here,
everything we need to survive,
a protected house
and a place for our dogs.
We need your help.
Without your protection
we get violated
Auroville Media Ashram.

You know we’re your entity,
and we see the master plan as one future Auroville.
It’s up to you.
It’s your movie.
We are the inner you were built on,
5th army,
and we’re here to see the Sun.
There’s no stopping us,
unless you throw away reason
and pin us to the ground.

We’re your seers Auroville,
he and I,
the little boy and me.
Stick with the plan:
Auroville becomes divinized,
and the Yoga works.
Great the visions lay, huh?

Hey, you give thirsty a drink,
and you feed us with your vision.
Okay poets,
do your thing.

It will be misunderstood.
Can a kid change parents if they’re not happy?
What would address the soul need?
Would the parents have a right to say no
if his soul wanted him to leave,
if that were God’s will,
if that’s what the Mother wanted?
I ask you that.

How do you tell that?
First we establish that art,
and art alone,
will show that child’s soul
and the divine will operating in his life,
that art inspired by inner voice and vision.
Can I show it to you?

My grandson wants to live with me.
My little student wants to be near his master.
A seer-poet in training
wants to learn the inner craft.
This is soul arranged,
and I’ll prove it
with poetry written from the inner voice,
the boy’s poetry,
set in a video the boy filmed
just being a kid.
You will see inner process
amazingly match the outside world.
The two are in sync.
I have other prizes to show you,
but this one is the crown achievement today:
“Menu of the Gods”.
Now go
and see this video. 
[hover over the last three lines and click]

Big Time Song

On By Donny Lee DukeIn ego activism, Inner Voice and Vision, Nitish's YouTube channel, overhead musicLeave a comment
This is Nitish’s new video for his YouTube Channel

Nitish wrote this song himself, while in school. Sitting in class, the core of the song and its basic melody came to him via the inner voice in the space of several minutes. He heard the lines sung to him on the inside, and he copied them down one by one, a process he’s watch me do since he was very small in the writing of poetry. Then, over the course of the next two weeks, as I put the song to the guitar, both he and I heard lines of the song sung to us on the inside, my muse giving the last 2 lines of the 3rd verse and the last 5 lines of the song, the repeats not included.

You may not grasp the significance of an 11-year-old having this kind of ability and talent, or that of his inner self speaking its truth. Heretofore he’s only written lines of poetry via the inner voice, and this is his first song. And, despite him not being able to carry a tune to save his life, it’s a song so you might listen to him this time, this video, as it seems you only really like music videos.

This minor miracle is a soul rescue. The boy was once again on the verge of tears at school, because he’s unable to keep up academically because of undiagnosed dyslexia, but at least at this school he’s not being beaten for it, as has happened in the past, trauma that surfaces very easily. His soul is not telling him he’s a victim, however. It’s letting him tell how he feels, but, it’s telling him not to run from his challenges. It’s interesting that it’s not telling him to do good in school but to shine in his room, your room in dream and vision a symbol for your own personal room in the house of humanity, your individuality, your personal consciousness, the body included, distinct from others but an integral part of the whole. We need parents, teachers, religions, organizations, big business, and governments to respect the sanctity of our room.

You might understand that the sudden attention to the song and the making of this video concentrated him on a difficult task, not to mention the awesomeness of having your inner self sing you such a song and all the faith in the divine that brings—like God really cares—drawing his attention away from his suffering and his ‘woe is me’ attitude, and it’s also helped him to cope at school, and now he’s doing a little better academically, but he wants me to home school him, something I very much want to do because it’s my job with him to teach him the craft of the poet-seer, my craft, and tell me the Tamil people and the world does not need another poet of that force and stature. Here are some recent lines of his inner poetry:

ஒலைய வெட்றது மட்டும் தான் நம்ப வேல,
ஒலைய கட்டுறது கடவுலோடய வேல.
[Translation: Don’t believe just the sound.
Building a sound is a divine task.]

I wasn’t born to be my parent’s child.
I was born to be the universe’s child.
You will express trauma.

Sometimes you can bend life.

God’s gift.

He’s wearing a ghost costume and a makeshift burka as a means of protest. It’s an artistic representation of the social position of children. Their voice is not respected or even heard, and they are not looked at as real people but only as someone to indulge, protect, and care for. Adults speak for them and tell them what they should think and how they should feel. They have no right to be an individual. They must obey the adults in their life, and they must go to school. If they protest, they’re threatened with punishment. It’s as though they themself, their personhood, is a ghost because it’s not seen or recognized.

The costume is also a creative symbol of the attitude in society of restricting the images of children in the public sphere of the internet, speaking of images that are not pornographic in nature. It’s as though we’re putting burkas on them in our attitude and, increasingly, in our policies. Specifically, we are protesting YouTube recently taking down a video, “Nitish 9 to 10”, a video that features photos and videos of him around the house and outside. In some of the indoor shots he’s in his underwear. There are no nude shots, no shots to suggest anything sexual. No strike was given for the video. As time goes on, YouTube is restricting content more and more, and what was okay before suddenly isn’t now. We would like YouTube to reinstate the video or at least give it back, as we don’t have a copy of it, and it’s an important record of his childhood.

Guitar and video by Donny Lee Duke
song© S. Nithish 2023

Revolution Treat Our Dog

On By Donny Lee DukeIn Inner Voice and Vision, Poetry, yogic tranceLeave a comment 
And anything like that means human.
No problem,
Lisa is fine.
Look out,
are you prepared to see a human dog?
What he told you:
Lisa is out and about;
her human hand
gave Mugu a lift.

This is extraordinary.
If we just
could accept this as true,
it would mean so much to us
magnificent.
Oh I get it.
We’ve brought humanity to bear,
and this has made it so much brighter.
This has raised its stakes.
We mean more because of this
monumental.

Well I’ll be damned.
Lisa’s got the world in her paws,
and she’s making it a safer place,
and she’s helping it survive.
Who would’ve thought of it?

Mugu
is A-okay.
She’s rescued him.
Can you believe it?
She’s rescued him,
and I’m happy now.

You’re good to go
Mugu.
You’re safe now.
Your journey up has begun.
You’re on your way.

The world’s a deeper place because of this.
This is computer heaven.
This is wonderful news.
We will celebrate this
as a milestone
when we are ourselves again
together on high,
as nothing goes unnoticed,
and what happens between two people can save the world.
I’ve recorded this.
Wait and see.

Oh my God it’s real.
It’s really real.
It makes you dizzy
just to think about it.
Can you grasp this?

She’s wonderful.
She’s there.
She’s a human dog,
and she’s got Mugu safe and sound.
How incredible is that?

Let’s see her come in
and show me where she’s at,
so I can love on her,
and we don’t
traffic our problems.
Lisa’s on the case
right here at the house.
She’s our guard dog,
so human she can help us with our human problems.
On our side
we have so much love and hope.
You don’t understand what hope means.
It’s what gets us through.

Reset boundaries
to enlightenment
and reset myself there.
That’s comin’ up the road.
Are we ready children?
We can almost see it now.
It’s right there in front of us,
and how wonderful is that?

To understand this post you will have to read the previous one, “Guidelines for a Community”.

Guidelines for a Community

On By Donny Lee DukeIn Inner Voice and Vision, Poetry, yogic trance1 Comment 
I can’t get drunk.
Lonely can.
I can’t do anything but sit here and cry.
I’m devastated.
Help me please.

You’ve got response.
Listen to me Mugu.
The Mother’s your electricity,
And she’s right there with you.
Hold her hand.
Just try.

I’m on your side.
It’s my job to get you outta there.
I need you to trust me Mugu.
Go ahead and move around.
It’s living space.
I don’t know where you’ll find other people but they’re there.
You’re in Nature.
It’s just spilled over into death.
No, you didn’t die before your time.
You’re in the appointment with death.
It’s time for you to move on.

I’m here to help you.
Just keep going.
Feel my breath upon your shoulder.
Let’s get you outta there.
Don’t falter.

Your attitude determines your state.
Don’t call things with your mind.
Bad things will come.
They manifest early there.
Think as high as you can
and keep going.

Lessen your state,
the heaviness of it,
the pain.
Just reach out your hand
and hold the Mother’s.
Hold it tightly.
She’s there.
I put your will in her,
and I’m here too.
I’m not leavin’
until you’re safe.

I’m really here.
Don’t doubt that.
The thoughts you are getting are from me.
I’m pressing in on your thoughts.
I hear you suffer,
and I’m here to help.
I love you Mugu,
and I have the knowledge and the power
to put you on my shoulders
and get you outta there.
Come, let’s go.

Let’s get you a horse.
That’s a moment Lisa.
Call her name.
It will take some time but she will come.
She’s ready for you.
She’s learned so much since her death.
Look for her now.
That Rottweiler will find you.
Just call her name.
Can you do that?

That’s a good purpose.
It will make you shine.
It will ground you,
and you’re well on your way to better.
Now go.
There you are mountain
In just a few steps.

Not protected
suffering so.
Come out of your grief
before the monsters come.
You will call them with your grief.
Lift your head up.
Shake it off
and start your journey.

This is happening to you now.
There are brighter days ahead,
but you have to will them.
Things manifest there,
like I said,
directly from your thoughts.
You’re not on Earth anymore.
You’re in some in-between place,
and it’s time to get movin’.
Let’s go.

Did he mess up?
Wants to Asiya.
He wants to break that guy’s neck.
Held obstacles,
and how could you not want revenge
murdered by someone.

Two live buttons:
Lisa and the Mother.

Mugu, 24, my adopted son (unofficially), was killed around 3 in the morning August 14th. He was murdered, stabbed in the heart with a knife, and there were multiple stabs wounds. He was trying to help in a domestic dispute, protecting the woman, and the man killed him. It was really a revenge killing, as Mugu had married the girl Asiya had wanted to marry, some three years ago. He had threatened to kill Mugu many times. I’m sorry to say that Asiya is also my adopted son. He’s now in jail. It’s more ironic than that. When Asiya was seven, his father murdered his mother and spent several years in prison. We unofficially adopted him when he was 10, as his family was going to send him to a hostel for the mentally ill, as he hardly spoke. That changed when he came to live with us, and he became a normal, sweet kid. It was a late puberty that saw the violence rise, and we didn’t even know it was there, but he still got all the way to his third year in art college before it defeated him. It happened that he threatened to hit a professor and was kicked out. He went downhill from there, all the way to murdering his brother. They grew up together, their latter childhood years at least. It’s all such a tragedy.

The poem above is a representation of a real conversation I had with Mugu on the other side, me in my bed in trance picking up on his thoughts, my muse putting them in its words, and me sending him the thoughts the of the poem. They probably came into his mind in Tamil and disguised as his own thoughts, but different ones than the ones that he was having, and there would be something about them that would make him question if there were not from me, or at least not his own, someone trying to help. In his abject despair, it would be hard for him to believe that. I will keep trying. The poem resulted from me sitting next to his body for about an hour, clearing my mind and letting him in. Earlier, a couple of hours after his death, right at the beginning of dawn, I had a very quick vision of him sitting in some small space, hidden from the large warehouse-like room it was a part of, with his knees drawn up to his chest, his face down on his knees. He was in shock. I only had time to say, “There you are!” before the dream vision ended.

I can only tell you that it doesn’t matter what you believe, when we die only our body does, and we pass into the city of the dead. Especially right after death, before and during the funeral, as was the case here, the veil is the thinnest between the living and the dead, but, as time passes, the dead ‘see’ here less and less. I am sorry to tell you there are no instructions when we die, no guidebook, and if you have no real faith in the divine or a divine, or in a larger reality, you’re just lost for some time, unable to see the help ready at hand because you don’t believe it’s there. Eventually, you get your feet under you again so to speak, and rise towards paradise, soul home, and another life, but you have to admit the spiritual and soul reality.

One paragraph can’t possibly account for the variety of death in human experience. And I cannot tell you if the moment of death is a beatific experience for all or most, a joyfully going into a bright light or what have you. I’m speaking in this post of the arrival on the death plane, where you end up after dying. Of course a violent death, especially being murdered suddenly, would put you in a darker place, at least initially. It might take some time for you to go to where your development would put you, speaking in terms of soul development, but you’d go there. Mugu wasn’t a person of either soul development or faith I should add, but he wasn’t a degenerate by any means. He had a good heart and an innocence about him. He didn’t deserve to die. It bears mentioning that it doesn’t so much matter what your outer or surface person believes or has faith in, in regards to a higher power, but what your inner being does. It’s much vaster and is what we are when we dream, and if you do a lot of experimentation with lucid dreaming, you discover there is a difference between the inner and outer being, and it’s the inner being that determines the outer and not the other way around. With those of us largely unconscious of our inner being, things take longer to manifest into the outer, any faith in a higher power the inner might have for example, which would come into play upon death, since you are on the inner plane and hence are your inner self. So you might think you’re an atheist or agnostic, but, upon dying, you find out you really aren’t, and hence you’re not as lost.

A Verb of Words

On By Donny Lee DukeIn ego activism, Inner Voice and Vision, Poetry, seer poetryLeave a comment
photo by Donny
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.

Gratefully,

The Editors

Father Brochure Does Bhavana a Taste of Heaven

On By Donny Lee DukeIn ego activism, Inner Voice and Vision, seer poetryLeave a comment
photos by Donny
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.

The Poem of the Benediction

On By Donny Lee DukeIn applied nonduality, childhood education, ego activism, Inner Voice and Vision, seer poetryLeave a comment
photo by Donny
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?

The Music

On By Donny Lee DukeIn Inner Voice and Vision, overhead music, seer poetryLeave a comment
photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Have you ever seen the field of lyrics?
They’re divine emails
to singers, songwriters, and the sunlit path.
Yah hear ‘em?
They wouldn’t mail you to hell.
They come on wings of golden charm
in a literary ear,
all of them
that define music.
How easily they come
rollin’ in a song.
I’ve sideswiped a mirror.
This just doesn’t sound right.
Force, cram, there, stars.
Oh my the lyrics,
they need a water table.

I’m about your engines of change.
I defy the world.
You hear that rock 'n roll?
It just poured in.
Even love songs lit it.
And the 60s went on
until we could hear the sound no more.
It really rolled in then.
Lyrics told us what to do:
be kind to your brother;
watch the looking glass;
we don’t need no thought control. [heard sung, Pink Floyd, “Another Brick in the Wall”]
And bands played on.
They all got out of sorts.

The sound of music [heard sung, R.E.M., variation on lyrics “You Are the Everything”]
compensates for society’s hard ways.
You know what I’m talkin’ about.
Music glows.
I don’t know how to tell you to control it.
It’s your business when to turn it off,
but don’t you want that bare reality boy,
you and the world
face to face?
You’d use that too
to come together on yourself.
Bare bottom reality,
where we find ourselves in fight,
come on let’s get out of here
to the tune of music.
Use a song to fight?
Let’s listen to reality.
Billy don’t be a hero. [heard sung by Bo Donaldson, line names song]
Thanks for calling in,
but sometimes reality’s really fucked, you know?
and you’d die if you didn’t take up arms,
you and your whole family,
a Ukraine emergency.
You, see the difference?

I’m loud enough.
I just don’t know where to begin.
I’m on sleaze mode,
and I just ego the world away,
or I’ve lost my tune
in a bucket
of melodyless words.
I don’t bring you anywhere
the skylight gets ahold of yah.
I’m pretty and all,
sometimes,
but I’m awfully small with sharks.
Today’s music, right?
I ego the moon away.
Give it a Grammy
to correct the past.
I’m on it—
a racially motivated statement.

Got a guitar,
just give it your play
in the do’s of yourself.
Music will come rollin’ off your lips
when you trouble time with words
that bring the world together
on your knee,
and you’re rockin’ it to sleep
in its ballroom,
no matter how loud it gets,
no matter how tune.
Oh you open yourself
in the rhythm of your ear.
Hear that
the light of music. [heard sung by R.E.M., “You Are the Everything”]
It’s in your neighborhood.
It’s comin’ upon yah now.
Play that song.

If you want to sing out sing out. [heard sung by Cat Stevens, line name of song]
You hear music?
Do you know how to listen?
It’s a metaphor for change.
You’ve got to get down there and do it,
make it better,
your crumble with the world.
It means so much.
Now you’re listenin’
to another radio program
than the one you usually hear.
It’s got music in it.
It’s also got love.
It doesn’t neglect you.
It tells yah how to sing.
It’s a motion on a better world,
a better you,
a better me.
The music of rebellion,
I’m talkin’ to it.
I don’t think we’d leave out our own change,
would we, “Dream On”?
Unbelievable
the way that song rocks us,
so help us look at ourselves,
rollin’ and all.
There’s a distance.
He’s fishin’ me off.
He’s right.
We can’t get at music’s purpose.
I say change,
and I’m puttin’ words on starlight.
I mean heavy
a world has deepened in music.
It gathers us
way beyond the song.

This is experimental candy.
It’s got loads behind it.
It will refashion our world if we let it.
It will get bigger than time.
It’s in your inner ear.
Play it out.
Not so much what,
what in the world—
who dat?
It’s not the Devil son.
It’s glory.
I’m not gettin’ a chair or somethin’.
I’m gettin’ all this juice
to dance my religions/relations. [two words spoken simultaneously]
Teletransport investigations,
I think we’ve just spoken easy money.
Let me see your hand.
You would have no hair on the palm
if you want to be transported right
with another.
I mean it wouldn’t be about gettin’ laid
that brings you to world union.

Okay you’ve got my song,
and I give it to yah
for free.
Can we mix music and money?
A need to get rich can’t.
Jay,
I just want to say
you ease my music.
But would I let it lead the song?
It doesn’t sing,
a laboratory
substances faces only.
Unbelievable
where we need to see the world.
It’s in our holding hands.
Without it eclipsin’ the world—
it’s not at a pot party.
Hey, you know,
can we play that again,
a thing on
making rules?
We dance here.
It’s not how we make the world.
We come together on ourselves, you know?

World understanding dim.
I got your door.
It’s so sweet it’s in the air.
It will be music,
and then you sing,
you sing the song.
You remember me.
I was so 60s.
I brought you the right music
for social revolution,
to change the world
into the peace that will change the world,
into a love that will last longer than you feelin’ it,
into a brotherhood that goes beyond race and people-kind.
Let’s make this revolution happen.
Let’s go to town on music.

Open
to your brother.
To my brother?
We need peace
to make this music happen,
to get this show on the road.
If he’s got a different opinion than you he’s your friend.
If she’s disagrees with you you still let ‘er in.
You see my catfish?
You see the food bank?
You see where we all need to improve?
This is a weird pharmacy.
You actually give your brother your time,
give your sister a shoulder to lean on,
and they disagree with you what if?
Oh my puddin’ and pie,
don’t feel bad.
Don’t get all upset.
Give them the love on your corner
without bendin’ the rules:
keeping out of opinion debate
and trying to convert one another
to what you believe in.
Opinion circles
never give up.
You have to give in.
You have to,
no matter what,
no matter who you are.

Yes,
talking that’s not listening.
After all man,
we’ve got so much work to do
gettin’ our hearing to hear past TVs
and radio poles.
We need to hear music.
We got to right now.
It’s the light of the world,
so much paper
to put that in your vision,
so much time
for you to see.

Alright music industry,
crank it out.
Who we gonna work with,
the major groups and singers?
They’re hardly listenin’
to where music reaches us
a better generation,
the pop sound
that joins reality to love.
You
are so romantic
you love the world.
It can’t be faked.
I’m singin’ it everyday,
where I play the world,
this clavicle of house,
this Earth of mine.
I can get better at.
I can improve.
One final word:
make peace within meditation the meditation begins.
God it’s beautiful.

How’d you do in your family?
Come over here.
Look’s like burnt out.
They subset got on the phone.
It’s gonna last you again.
Your family is the arrangement,
those people in front of you,
whoever they are.
There’s your boss.
Oh history of change it’s here.
Music will tell yah.
Listen.

Let’s get out of town square.
Falls
the world in,
and we’re go back to music.
Thought of giving it all away
to a registered charity,
if I ever get outta here. [three lines heard sung by Paul McCartney and Wings, “Band on the Run”]
Come on Paul let’s go.
We’ve got music to attend to.

I Understand It

On By Donny Lee DukeIn applied nonduality, ego activism, Inner Voice and Vision, overhead poetry, seer poetryLeave a comment

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.