Another life on earth,
we enter that life today.
Can you believe I’m 21?
I sit in bathtubs and smile,
holdin’ onto speech that has not come.
I’m butt naked,
and no one sees me.
I haven’t entered society yet.
I think my penis said that.
I lift my voice and sing
syllables that make sense to me,
and my truck,
my God my red truck,
it’s bigger than life.
I’m a destruction derby
all day long.
How do you expect chaos to get along?
When I pee everybody drinks it,
and I’m glad that I did.
I just shouted.
Did you hear it?
I can turn a principle 13.
Here I am in my kingpin.
Wow that’s tight.
What body part did they make?
I am really in the ditch with you,
and it’s wonderful ain’t it?
My body is on fire
with the touches of life,
and I can feel my own skin.
I go through sudden rages,
and no one even answers me for it.
You can’t say no to me.
I want to do everything.
I love the sudden grandpa.
He doesn’t practice the word no.
You know what it’s like to run free?
We will find thought soon.
I’m an image in my head
of pumpkins
waiting for the birth of thought.
That comes with language you know.
My grandpa gave me a new word today,
careful.
I fall so many times.
Okay I’m 21
months,
and I’m takin’ my time.
Who wants to be thrown to the wolves?
I’m just all out in front of everybody.
I’m Dylan.
I'm myself to please.
Category: Poetry
In Day One This Is Ridiculous
I’m fighting stars.
I have no idea
I can’t do anything
unless my muse reads it to me.
You are the couch
existence sits on to write.
Still hasn’t found you
able to write anything.
Here, do this circle.
No matter what I say,
no matter what I dream,
I can’t get rid of
those institutes
that go against the grain
of society in compelling posts.
I have been left without my boy
and wondering if he’s better off without me.
I am bereft of hope,
and this is bigger than my boy.
Is the whole thing a tin can?
Is existence squeezed out of existence
by the Diamond Bearer?
Is this all a charade,
and even God himself
can’t stop cryin’?
Is there a safe harbor anywhere,
a safe place?
I’m talkin’ existence big.
Thank you I’m smart
and can see the ruse in everything,
even my own ruse.
I can’t change my consciousness to save my life,
and I know what change means.
Are the roads to Supermind
blocked by Supermind?
Is enlightenment just a scare?
What gives?
Do you know how fucked up everything is?
Do you know how big it is,
the screw in everything?
We can’t climb Mount Everest with that.
We are foiled by cliff hangers,
and we can never reach the top,
and in the history of poetry I have to explain to you symbolism.
Nothing gets out of my bag.
Do you know how tall that is?
I’m meaning’s worth,
and I keep reaching holes in my story.
I don’t understand all that is,
but I know Gods play with us,
and there really are monsters under the bed.
Can you see my daily life?
Bigger than being
it arrives from distant shores,
the very breath of being,
and it gets there all the time,
in our underwear.
I cannot move this molestation.
Are we fucked from the very first?
There’s a hole in the program.
Whatever it is that uses us for existence
is unhinged?
That’s how the story grows?
What guarantee do we have that it is safe?
Are we existence’s pall bearers?
Alright arouse my pen
are we safe from the universe?
I question everything.
In the horror of day to day living,
living
where peace finds us
and goodwill,
you can’t condemn it all to understand.
You can’t even breathe.
Do you know we eat bread together on the inside,
and I am you and you are me?
That’s the joke ain’t it,
we spit on that.
I’m goin’ somewhere,
even if I don’t believe it sometimes.
I’m tryin’.
There I am on cars,
and I carry the world around all day
a poet’s worth.
I have these great big thoughts
that ground.
I mean I’m a scout for the human race
really involved with you.
I question my own worth,
but that’s not throwin’ myself away.
I work in the engine room of humanity,
and I don’t even think you know there’s there,
for what it’s worth.
We haven’t found ourselves yet
larger than our own personal skulls,
dangnabbit.
I’m a shopping spree
of the limits of ideas.
I can do it,
get out there where no thoughts are,
and I can hold existence in my hand.
Is that a safety rope?
I’m gettin’ underneath things
not because I have to because I love you,
and we can figure you
my little boy.
I witness
the safety ground,
and I’m lookin’ for it
in the large eyes he wears,
and I could just tear my heart out, you know?
I have the living room in my hand,
and I got a shot at Earth
lead me to him.
That’s the death of a unicorn
has almost swallowed him whole,
and he don’t know how to feel right,
my little boy.
I’m comin’ upon him now.
I’m placing a wall.
I thought for a brief time
there’s no doubt about it
this is what he wants
to flower with me.
You can’t lose your job.
James, I’m tellin’ yah the truth.
You will have his little hands in yours again,
right there on bright Earth,
where the Earth makes sense.
You’re fillin’ a role in the sky.
I didn’t allow
there’s monumental change ahead.
What happened?
It’s alright—
monumental impact.
Well here’s the movie here’s the camera,
and I’ve got ‘im,
I’ve got ‘im in my pocket. [sing this and above line]
Can this be like all played out?
Wide God,
did he actually go to touch that?
No, he resurrected Tommy
another poet live on earth;
another poet rides the Earth.
I Love It the TV Show Adolescence
With over the top crime
get a modern classic.
Are you a surgeon?
Oh my God,
you’re a baseball bat.
The look behind the ship
is very primitive.
There’s mom and pop and the show
and the school bag.
There’s the policeman with his gun,
the psychologist with her table.
Society is not challenged
in its moving parts.
We are blamed on social media.
A kid kills then what?
The repercussions of society.
We do not see where his crime came from,
like there’s a killer in everyone
waiting for social media.
Children will take a knife and stab someone,
and they are perfectly normal.
Where did his rage come from?
He wasn’t beaten at home.
Adolescence doesn’t show this.
It can’t.
They were construing society
to make it say something it doesn’t.
Crimes do come out of the woodwork,
but with the attention to detail on this one,
this was aimed at social impact.
Perfect television The Guardian says,
and they convened with Parliament.
They wanted to get a point across they said.
I don’t know was that toxic masculinity?
It makes kids kill.
They really hate Andrew Tate,
but do kids act like that,
divorce from themselves and murder someone
if they aren’t already predisposed?
Can we see the answer here?
I don’t think we can see nothin’ but what the producers want us to see /
and want society alarmed.
It’s propaganda
beautifully done.
You can’t argue with it,
but I can do more than that.
Let’s put a kid’s genitals on the screen.
What happens in adolescence?
The biggest thing in their lives,
gargantuan wears.
Their genitals have needs
society doesn’t recognize.
That thing growin’ between their legs,
openin’,
pulsating,
it won’t leave them alone.
They have to do something with it,
but they’re not allowed.
They get tripped up with masturbation
because it’s an ashamed text.
Some parents guard against that,
some societies.
Never is it okay
on the news.
Now let’s turn the volume up,
and they have to.
Can you admit a sexual need?
Why is it normal for a 13-year-old boy
to just stay away from vulvas
and the tits of some girl he likes?
Why is normal for her to refuse him?
Okay we don’t want unwanted babies
and disease,
but what is your beef with them touching each other?
They’re budding all over the place,
and that’s only arming them
for the institution of marriage years from now?
What they can’t they touch each other?
Is it all a fear of sex
brinin’ babies along?
Have you met a one yet
that did not come from intercourse
in the intimacy of two people?
Yes marijuana leads to heroin I know,
but children fumblin’ with each other,
children not older teens,
are just not that competent, you know?
And maybe we could mitigate that
with better education,
and all through growin’ up
their genitals were not squashed.
We have to keep adults off them,
but other children no.
It leads to a safe society,
letting little Johnny express his gun,
little Suzie what she’s got.
Do you know where sexual disease comes from?
Squash a kid’s genitals and see.
So many social ills come from there.
Adolescence can you see that,
or are you just too ripe blind?
Can we get to the human drama of the thing,
the confusion of a child
all alone
growing up.
No matter how many people around them,
the scuttlebutt of their mates,
they outgrow their skins, you know?
And they’re punished for it.
We have no outlet for them.
We make them toe the line,
stuff them in school,
sports and whatnot,
and regulate all their time.
They’re gettin’ hair down there
and unspeakable urges,
but there’s still monsters under the bed,
and they can still rock with a teddy bear.
They wanna be held at night
if they’d admit it,
and in everything they look at they just want to be loved.
Do you feel that?
What do we do to make it right?
There’s so much we’re not doin’,
I can’t turn on the light for you.
There’s a space a garden I said,
and we’re worms in it tillin’ the soil.
We haven’t opened our books yet
and reviewed the hidden skies
or walked across our dreams at night.
We can’t see consciousness in our book
and we share it all,
and how we all sit together in time
hidden identities of one another.
You look at the outer book
and fail
with the tribe of children.
You don’t know how to meet them
in the bigness of their thoughts.
You give them grocery lists
and jobs to do,
and you entertain them awhile,
but can you reach them where their soul touches earth?
Can you take their hand
and lead them past rainbows and hidden splendors
to discover their purpose in time?
You don’t know what I’m talking about,
and I’ve breached it again,
your idea of society,
but you will take a child and throw them in jail,
whatever you call the detention center,
and rub their nose in their crime,
and you call that good society,
and the protection of children leads here?
Get tough on them they're kids
who’ve committed crimes.
It’s the only way you deal with crime
since the beginning,
takin’ an eye for an eye
or a tooth for a tooth
or as close as you can get
with make them suffer in prison.
Can we get outta here?
It doesn’t
the ramrod Adolescence.
Some weird stuff
I’ve blighted you with,
I’ve put on your phone,
and you will just ignore me
again.
I’m talking to the public.
I don’t get the reach of Adolescence.
It’s spurred you on
to make social change
where kids watch social media.
Meanwhile your hand is down their pants
terriblin’ their teenager,
and I’ve used an analogy don’t get mad.
You are not right with them,
and you know it.
All you give to them is the machine,
the dissatisfied lives you wear,
the boredom
that rich people wear.
I’m goin’ through the roof.
Want to join me?
A TV show called Adolescence,
a molten band,
you’ve all been fooled.
It doesn’t solve anything.
It only makes you cry.
It doesn’t even identify society
as what’s wrong with us.
What social media show us,
all our fault lines.
Get rid of the looking glass yes,
and go back to newspapers and television sets,
so’s they’re not so visible to us.
A kid will consider it.
If you’re not too busy with your life,
if you hold their hand there,
no Nazis present
or policemen,
you can wrap their hand around social media
where we make a better world,
even watchin’ Andrew Tate videos
or the mean Vegan Teacher.
You let them chose the material,
and then you engage them there.
Am I spittin’ out fluff?
I’m giving you the history with my kid,
until the TV show
went off the air,
the tragedy
that showed me adolescence’s fall.
Said Something the Country
White supremacy for mayor
uttered in Wilmington.
They just chopped people to pieces.
The injustice lags the sky.
I don’t believe it happened.
I cried when I heard about it.
Can we play that again?
We do it every day,
not massacres,
although they come along.
We put people in power that hate Blacks.
We give White supremacy a place at the table
and call it by other names.
We don’t know how to count it.
There isn’t a racist person in the state.
Even a White supremacist will tell you that.
Do you know how they feel,
the Black people at the table?
Of course they’re racial gatherings.
What do we do with their anger?
We don’t know how to handle it.
It’s hatred for us,
and nobody gets better that way.
Nobody even knows what’s goin’ on.
We are stirred up by so many people,
and the unseen lends a hand.
Not all good people are good.
A Kumbaya feast doesn’t do any good.
Racial unity,
we have to address our sins first.
We have to see them there.
It’s a feelin’ we have around Black people,
even with our smiles on.
I’m sorry will you get the broom and sweep the house?
I’m gettin’ at colored folks
in the drawing room of White men.
We face each other
not as equals.
Our attitude hangs out
the beekeeper.
They are inferior to us
in our American bones.
These are racial wounds
we spit on and light on fire
in the complacency of man.
How do you get rid of this?
You shove it down people’s throats
a woke system.
That did a lot of good.
The White supremacists took over.
What do we do now?
We arrange guns
and burn down houses.
You think this’ll work?
We just break apart our nation
and cause a lot of hurt.
Racial aren’t the only issues in the sky.
There’s livin’ with each other
bein’ true to one another.
We put our cap on
and show genuine to people,
because we feel it,
the confusion of everybody
in the hurtin’ of life.
We know we’re dumb too.
We have to protect ourselves yeah,
but we take our hats off to everybody
and give them a little bit of us if they ask.
How do I get this across?
It’s a squeeze test.
Most people aren’t genuine.
Some people want to hurt you.
You have to know where to step.
You can’t carry your heart on your sleeve.
You have to know when it’s time to get out of Dodge.
You are generous but wise.
I can’t give you the roof over my head.
I can’t empty my pockets for you.
Now we come to the meaning of the Earth.
It’s not racial reports.
It’s how we all survive.
We get in with each other
to make the Earth work,
and it’s bigger than life.
We are bigger than Negroes and White men,
bigger than any gender we wear.
It’s across the great divide,
our true life and purpose.
You hear a Daniel say that today.
I’m in the lion’s den right among you,
and no one has eaten up my flesh,
but I can feel the breath upon my door
of some dangerous shit.
Can you hear me I’m tired,
but I’ve opened up humanity in myself,
and I’m doing it again.
Will you sup with me?
Will you even try?
Speak lotus,
these were reminds me
these were come up in these poems
something of Wilmington has happened
here in Pondicherry.
It’s race related.
I’m not Indian.
A parenthood of oppression
blights this land.
I’m standin’ up for my boy.
Free him please.
Don’t let this tragedy go down unnoticed.
The details would scare you,
and I’ve named them in other poems.
His name is Nithish,
S. Nithish,
and he needs help.
I sit here flabbergasted
at the amount of lies that make up this story
told to policemen and child welfare
and so many other people.
They put their Indian first each time
and the rightful law and order of the land
that made their parental rights supreme,
the underbelly the lie
that India will not wake up from.
Children are crushed by their parents,
abused and beaten
and forced to give up their lives for school.
Hours of tuition at night
kill their playtime,
and disorders such as dyslexia and dyscalculia are unrecognized.
They’re beaten for bad grades.
This is right and proper in India.
They just took my boy behind the woodshed and killed him
for parental loyalty,
all in the eyes of the law.
He has lost his personality,
had his identity crushed.
What this has done to his character
will put him in his father’s shoes,
a man who has murdered four men in Pondicherry
targeted by his gang,
on bail now for attempted murder
that never went to trial.
The case has been overlooked.
This is standard procedure in Pondicherry
if a powerful gang is involved.
People get away with murder.
I have to stand here and watch all this
happen to my boy,
and I can do nothing.
I’ve even been to the press
and contacted every major NGO in India
that deals with child cases.
I’ve threatened hunger strike,
but the divines I look to said no.
I’ve written poem after poem,
giving these circumstances,
but the social conditions of a blog
put likes in my hands,
put readers,
but I can’t arouse the crowd for my boy
and get this matter looked at by proper hands.
I can’t get off my blog.
Is this stupid,
to talk about this injustice,
to tell you my boy needs help.
I am just a Black newspaper of 1898
this happened at Wilmington,
a whole town overthrown
by White supremacists,
and no one believed them because they’re Black newspapers?
The New York Times and the Washington Post,
and all the major news,
came to scoop the story.
Met at the train station with the royal treatment,
the leaders of the coup
put them in hotels and told them lies
they all believed:
Nithish is in the hands of his parents
where he belongs,
and the Indian order has been restored,
the natural order of things;
his father’s an outstanding citizen
rich now in business,
his mother a gentle soul
that would never harm a child;
we have him in school 11 hours a day
because he’s acting and don’t want to study;
we know he’s smart,
and this is India,
and we make school the center of a kid’s life
for our national pride.
Buy me another drink aldermen,
and I’ll put in our newspaper what you said.
Would it alarm you his mother paid bribes?
Even to the authorities.
Okay, okay I’ll shut up,
but I’m a Black man in a White man’s world,
and no one listens to me.
Can you hear this?
It happened in Wilmington.
A Companion Poem
Can I fly my hypotenuse
a jersey on existence,
I mean cans?
This whole world is a big block.
Everything’s in small measure.
There’s no room for elbows.
I can’t get yah to change your mind
there’s a bigger party than this.
Your little room is your little room
folding existence upon itself.
I wear those sleeves too,
but I get out and abroad, you know?
We are lifetime wears.
It’s a stinking ship.
Just ask your neighbor you hate,
or all the money you make
at the expense of other people,
the information you give
that ain’t true,
the self-righteousness that drives your car,
and all your thoughts bent on death
for those who’ve crossed you.
Am I leavin’ your telephone number out?
I don’t think so.
I can name names.
Even the good on Earth
do it in.
Would you love that bad person to death?
Would you get out of your family role
and bring a stranger to dinner
to sup with your kids risk and all?
These are the roles of the One in flavorful chairs,
and I’m usin’ analogy to get at device.
How can I tell you you sail too
the shape we’re all in?
Do you see our pumpkin?
It’s a safe haven for everyone.
We are littleness meets the stars
confined to one room.
It’s a prison house of escape.
We can go so many places,
with narrow openings,
and it’s a secret from the crowd.
I can’t prove to you I’ve been there,
but you hear that sound now.
I’m tryin’ to get bigger Earth,
so we can mean somethin’ with our lives
and not take a stranger to death.
I grapple with existence like it’s my magnet,
all this poem to pull you along.
We’re going to get there you see.
It’s only a matter of time.
It’s larger than wood,
than our feelings’ meanings in time.
Our thoughts can’t get there
except on some spaceship
that’s blasted off from Earth
bigger than any thought you’ve ever had.
We’ve got to bust out of our shell
in the pains of life
oneness denizen models.
You know I’m countin’ score.
Now let’s get on with it.
Can I give you a blog as a purpose of a universe?
You’re not going to believe it’s in time,
the whole meaning unfold
that meets us right where we’re at.
Harm’s End I’ll say it again
and a collaboration with the unknown,
and some Twitter eye in focus.
I’ve did it.
I’ve grasped the universe
right in your pocket.
Start with this poem and go from there.
You will arrive at the universe
I guarantee it.
No one has done this before
with their hand on the button of life.
I’ve surrendered you to abstractions.
Do add-ons care?
May we hit the role in the machine,
get to very deary wood.
I’m a pencil outside of myself.
I’m not the me generation.
Can you generate outside of yourself?
Can you get there?
I am the center of everything,
and as much as we see this we don’t.
We judge by selfishness
a bottle unto ourselves.
Can you put yourself in the murderer’s shoes?
Can you be someone liberal if you’re conservative?
Can you be that priest that molests kids
if you’re survivors of incest?
Alright can you just be your wife
if you’re too tired to deal with the kid crying at night?
Can you be your neighbor,
and they need you to take their kids to school,
but you’re late for work?
Can you be the guy at the grocery store
that’s asking you for small change
or at least I see you smile?
Can you be your coworker
late again,
but you don’t tell anybody?
Can you even be your kid,
and he’s been caught with his pants down
not to your sudden fury?
Too tired to go to work,
we can’t identify with people.
We can’t look outside of ourselves.
It’s all the rage
be offended.
You know what I mean dear heart?
You know what I mean expanded notion?
If I haven’t hit home
examine yourself.
You’ll get better.
Now where do we play school?
Getting bigger than ourselves
in life’s little room.
Watch those reactions.
Give some pride to other people.
Is that too tall for you?
It’s what we’re here for
in the basics of bein’ human.
Oh my God this mind stinks,
and we shoot it down with bright ideas.
Did we reach anybody?
Only the choir.
Oh my great big beautiful humanity we’ve got it all wrong.
We heart with each other.
We expose ourselves
to vulnerabilities of feeling.
This is the prize in the room:
that heart’s safe to be with, you know?
It’s what they remember you with, you know?
You can land a hypotenuse
all over the freeway
to capture the sun’s rays
geniusin’ your way to a household name,
but those around you know your love,
how your heart is around people.
We educate the mind,
put it first in school,
put it only in school
as what matters more than anything else,
and we are heart matters with each other.
The rule and scale of mind
is not our hypotenuse.
It’s not where we get along with each other.
The heart owns the whole show.
It lifts us up with each other.
Can a poet say this?
It’s where we abide in time.
It’s my wake up to you.
It’s where we meet in verse,
and you hear me.
It’s our meaning with each other.
God rest his soul.
I’ve done all I can to reach the heart of poetry.
I smell the four winds,
and I do hope that danger’s not real.
Know how it feels
to have said too much
from the party line
where the authorities don’t let you,
not even in poetry.
So long today.
I hope that’s not all she wrote.
A case that does not take square time
became an artist.
She finally took the picture
that brought it all to bear.
Can you identify with the wife?
The Roles of the Machine
Take the questionnaire.
I have problems existing
the way you want
Council Bluffs.
An opera,
just what the world needs right now,
our post-traumatic show,
and I can’t do anything to stop you.
You’re the stupid muse.
Who’s to listen to?
I’m talkin’ storybook Earth.
Are you wrapped around the axle with it?
My God it’s got me by the balls.
I’m in Nithish’s pan.
Other than that I’m free.
You would not stage this.
I’m too honest for broad noon,
and I’ve got some big thoughts Earth don’t wanna look at,
I mean in your society room.
Have you ever seen an Earth poet?
You’re supposed to.
That’s what we’re all made of.
We’re speakin’ to all mankind.
Earth today,
we get mad at the word man,
but it farms poetry, you know?
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,
I’m in a limousine,
but let me get more Tennyson on yah
and Marilyn Monroe.
You think poetry’s got to have capital letters
and sing about verses and stuff.
Emily Dickinson would agree
poetry comes from the inner voice.
Slipped into you a mind swell
the beautiful rose of poetry,
even if it’s not a football field
of the huddle of verses
that high sound poetry to you.
I give you an inner lunch.
Okay we’ve brightened our books today.
I give you an inner sound,
tryin’ to find your head.
It’s all Madagascar.
Have I opened a movie on the showroom’s floor?
Train’s coimin’.
It’s all about them dice
watch your hedge podge in
where you put your blinders on.
Cute animals, eh?
And everybody’s longing to be free.
Be not normal men and women,
but reach above our kind
and show how it’s done,
ain’t that the anthem?
Movie after movie
of the greatest stories on Earth
get by our living room with this.
Would you believe they keep you in line,
even in your underwear?
Ask the surveillance movie Drop from start to ticket
or Seven Veils,
and I’m sorry I’m giving them credit,
but I can’t watch every movie in time
that littles us,
I mean like right now as we’re havin’ lunch.
So many lies are told
to manipulate your mind
and bring all the bad country to bad men
so demon they shine
with the impossibilities of human nature
taken to that degree.
They’re demon bad.
My mother sucked me when I was three,
and my step-mother terrorized my mind,
and I had to hide from her in the woods
until my father got home.
Teacher after teacher put me in the corner,
the kind that hate little boys all over the globe
for bein’ who they are,
and they had a score to settle with men.
Give a world this schoolin’,
and let’s see how she acts.
You can’t trust nobody.
Now I’ve got a little boy in the lurch
taken from me and reamed,
who grew up with me since he was five,
but I was there from birth
his daddy.
It makes you all nervous inside
that I’m speaking about him in this poem.
Exactly.
Can I show you the hurtin’ in the machine?
You think it’s child abuse
or a host of other ills,
men bad to women,
or a sudden and frank genocide,
or tumultuous war.
It’s our wrong seeing that causes harm,
how we bake bread
willfully and ignorantly
with the guardians of the universe resistant to change.
I love my little boy,
and that’s right and proper,
but I’m a White man and he’s a Tamil boy
in a red flag zone.
Surely his parents must be right
in beating him,
slapping him across the face,
not letting him go out of their sight
or surveillance system
or visit friends
so he will not contact me.
Do you know what this does to a child?
He doesn’t write poetry.
Now buy him anything he wants
and wine and dine him.
Surely he’ll stay on our side.
What’s the beef you reckon?
I made better miles with him,
and he preferred me to them.
It’s all in the menagerie.
Parents got rights over their children’s lives.
Just ask Child Welfare.
The mother gave them a bribe
and the police
and paid my lawyer more than I was paying him.
This is India and this stinks,
but who gives a damn?
Is anybody listenin’ to this poem?
I mean he’s got to go with us,
how you make a child today
serious
to produce that child
the staple of the machine.
Now let’s give ‘im bright airs
and promise him the moon
when he’s older
if he complies now.
Study hard kid.
Your worth is in those grades,
and your future depends on them,
and we will ignore your dyslexia by ignoring it,
you lazy little bastard.
We’re smart can’t you see?
Now what’s a boy worth?
I’ll tell you in this poem.
He wrote some miracles
that transcend time,
all in anticipation of being taken from me.
His parents hate those poems
and don’t let ‘im read ‘em.
I’ve put ‘em out in a blog
I’m addin’ to now.
A few more posts and it’s complete,
the body of his work now.
Now this has been shut off,
squeezed out of him
in a parental vice par none.
You like that?
That’s okay with you?
Who the hell are you anyway,
ordinary people?
I heard you.
The Indian consulate the Indian dear,
kick ‘em
to give this boy what he needs.
For fruit to work
tell ‘em read this boy.
How to Take a Conservative Population with You in Progressive Change
Eating orchids,
there we are,
and sittin’ on moonbeams,
I am a conservative population.
Ride ‘em out this-a-way:
practice silence;
practice not letting them get the best of you;
practice understanding,
and of course you’re conservative.
The world is strong, ain’t it?
Rise up and be counted when your vote’s to be counted,
and do a lot of that.
Don’t argue with trees.
Don’t just use your own bull.
See the larger picture in everybody.
Now you want social change?
Well let’s just take a baseball bat
and conservative them to death.
Okay how not to change the world.
Shove it up their ass.
Wave your flag all over the place.
Slap them for it.
Tease them and tease them and tease them.
Be stupid.
Don’t have patience with anybody.
Call yourself a woke person and them not.
Take their children and educate them your opinion.
Announce it on the news
everybody must adopt policy.
Are you runnin’ for reelection?
Don’t put people down.
Let your human rights win
by so much suffering seen
tellin’ the stories that change the times.
You like to whip kids?
Double down on that
explainin’ what it means to be whipped
by the confusion that child felt whipped too
his father was beating him,
his mother too.
Don’t show them Nazis show them children in their underwear.
And what was the issue that broke a nation?
It wasn’t readin’ story time to kids
in drag row,
but let’s offend a nation so we can be seen.
What was the hot tiger?
We do away with gender roles now,
understanding the underpinnings of society
just crisscross and change down people’s throats.
We are divided in sexes
you and me,
and that’s the pumpkin we wear.
Less value on them pumpkins.
We need to change society
so we can be men and women too.
Who understands me?
Get rid of that pumpkin.
We stand at the threshold of evolution
I am a man I am a woman
in one machine,
and my God that takes a long time.
I mean we can loosen up now
the sex roles.
You know the story about it?
I mean even Nazis will identify with it.
Can you get at that spirit in the machine?
It’s town hall.
Now let’s double down on them sex roles
educatin’ a public kindly.
What’s next on our flag?
We need to kill people
when they offend us.
I been waitin’ a long time,
and I got ‘im yesterday,
the son of a bitch.
I think we all do it,
wearin’ some fantasy get even.
Look at Trump.
Oh shit I broke my own rules.
I’m not in the play yard.
I’m where we hold meaning for each other.
It’s a national pastime bein’ offended,
Annie get your gun.
We break together on this,
break apart in two.
It’s the standard wear.
It’s the plays of the crowd.
Where is our anthem now?
Oh say can you see [sing line]
a people better on Earth
than the average kind,
the real givers of society,
whose dynamics
brighten Earth’s future?
I’m not callin’ names.
I’m asking you to be bigger people
on the Earth,
and yeah I’ll join hands too.
You got that right.
Now sing along:
my country tis of thee [sing line]
I’m a better person.
I get bigger at bein’ human,
truly free,
sincerely free.
The discipline is there
in the conservative run of the road.
It’s not easy to reach them,
but they’re great adapters
when they’re on strike,
when they’ve had enough of whatever regime they listen to.
Let me tell yah somethin’.
It’s on and at the gates
history repeats itself,
and a dictator,
he’s gonna show who he is.
It didn’t happen.
We felt sorry for him.
Five times I put air in my eyes.
She’s so dirty,
I mean in armpits.
What in the hell did I do with my knife?
He will get called on his bluff.
Don’t worry about it.
Did that boy call?
This is not normal.
This is like on steroids
flutter a nation away.
Who just heard that?
The whole Democratic party.
When conservatives do we’re in business,
tap, tap, tap, tap,
and the role of his dictator will be taken away.
I don’t think so.
How did you get in my poem Gone With the Wind?
Conservative,
wow like I put you down for science
when the roles are clear.
Meet me halfway will yah?
You’re like makin' boxes I know that one.
We need to give this guy some seabiscuits.
Anyway I’m in an armchair
just rollin’ out the dice.
I can’t promise you my opinion.
Take my hand
and just spit on yours.
It’s the most country in the world
that changes the world with policy.
Spit it on
the hand of the world.
You did it.
He turned the world astray
for a second,
fighting the questionnaire.
Who me?
A conservative finally woke up.
They followed the lantern,
the orchid.
I didn’t tell yah the story.
Let’s look at rich people shall we?
And we caught them unawares.
I mean they been
the tax in the machine.
There’s so many issues
it’s a report.
They’re just doin’ us shoppin’.
They’re the head scapegoat,
a rat.
Oh shit,
put likes
all green,
as if they climbed out of that hole and did it.
Did you help society my dear?
I mean be on steroids
shootin’ money makin’ to the stars.
Get out from under them,
that’s our movie.
Change politicians at reelection.
Are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin?
You mean no candidates can be rich people?
I don’t know how you grab it by society,
but just get the rich out of office
and any clothes they wear,
and campaign funds are not accepted
from anybody on a campaign
to keep the rich out of them pies.
Learning off the wall,
campaign funds have destroyed
our democracy you and me.
Up and up towards the explosion,
we give each candidate a certain amount and that’s it.
And that’s it.
We’re just talkin.
I’m just localizin’ Nithish in my poem,
everything he asked for
so society don’t cheat ‘im
of a childhood he deserves.
I signal the end
of makin’ it for business.
Make society good for our children see,
and can we have a brand new world?
You have something the willpower heal.
We need more of that.
Well it’s the first time.
We’ve been runnin’ this a long time.
Social change,
let’s get it busy.
Dammit a sinking fuel mankind,
conduct taxi no I didn’t talk to ‘im at all.
Shooting the pile of the pee,
well I just come along try to help yourself
stop this drillin’ machine.
Come on,
the last magnet.
It’s easy.
It’s not easy.
We’re damned to see.
Mowin’ the sand,
and it’s got to be dirty.
We’re human.
We followed the water magnet.
Molten lava.
And of course candidate.
Go back and forth and meditate,
I couldn’t think of anything else.
That’s the wrong station.
You’re not on top of Old Smokey.
At the gates
makin’ better children makin’ better society.
Damn, let’s take society by the horns will yah?
That’s the shotgun.
You got your air paws.
You don’t forget that.
Luxurious huh?
There we are
an internet used for social change.
Boxes they’re not always squeeze you tight.
Cash in delivery.
Now social change.
Now do what I do.
Jump and sort of fly into midair. [sing this and above line]
Fear is the meanest mind killer.
Open a can of whip ass.
Hey,
there you go.
It’s the wrong time
to be mean and insulting and rude.
We’re at the movie,
and the roles are clear.
Interviews in the Sun
An Opening As Well to God
Up bring everything.
Where’s my boy?
A resident’s assembly
bringing towards that you.
Who lived off the grid?
What exactly
did you mean by business?
They think it’s me
the wrong piston,
this wagon:
I can’t find my dime
in society.
This sucks and I want out of it.
We’re on you like stink on shit—
the great big arms of society.
We don’t let you get there
to utopia.
We damage everything.
Now let’s go to the bubble Auroville,
an experimental town city.
Great Scott!
society couldn’t leave it alone,
molested it like a little child,
and it got taken over by the Indian government
way back when
but comin’ out of the woodwork now,
just as pretty as you please.
Now they’re stuck
with nothin’ to do about it.
A patriotic Indian government has taken over,
and they’re throwin’ out non-Indians who disagree,
makin’ the international city
Indian.
Spirituality’s the powder keg.
They don’t do it right
they say.
They quote the Mother and Sri Aurobindo all day
without understandin’ what they’re talkin’ about,
without knowin’ those words,
with the fervor of a religious persons
who bring Auroville to its knees
surrenderin’ to the Mother said.
This is the apex of the new city.
It’s lost its charter there.
I’m a mechanic,
and I’ve got some cars to work on,
the Auroville sedan
and the world school bus.
I want to show you the method of the spirituality.
I have some things to say.
Annie get your gun.
We might stay together,
anyone wantin’ a new society,
anyone wantin’ to change the world.
Annie’s gonna shoot us all
if she could.
She don’t let social change,
and she’s government big.
I begin here
my revolt,
not with gunpowder
or any type of violence,
not with protest signs and blockin’ streets.
I give you the ideas that will change the world.
Funny huh?
it’s just little ole me.
I want my boy to come home.
That’s this can you hear me?
That’s the child
I’m pullin’ out all the stops for,
I’m riskin’ my life for,
to rescue.
A black man did it,
killed all these people
in control of mankind,
without takin’ a single life,
without firin’ a single shot.
He got rid of their ideas that control us.
He blew up the machine
with the ideas that make the world.
Keep him open
answering questions.
There are horrors, huh, right now? [vision of a ghoul-like creature popping up from behind some trashcans that I kicked, as if it’d been hiding there]
The tremblin’ must be rewound by it.
You’re almost taken.
There is no revolution anymore.
It’s found you.
This is hotdog nigger stats,
your consumer prices index.
Am I racial string theory my dear?
Interracial.
We are all following the machine,
reacting to its wares and memes.
Nigger got you didn’t it?
You all jump in the same hoop,
even if you use that word to call people names.
We are a standardized machine,
no glory holes.
We take our partner
to legalized sex
and punish those who don’t.
Can I get at that spirit of the machine?
I’m not sayin’ sex traffic kids.
You’re all in a bottle you know,
even the one who breaks all the rules.
You’ve been put to the test,
livin’ off the grid like you do.
You define yourself by society.
Just look at the books you read.
They’re society bound,
even Henry David Thoreau
or that guru master you read.
You’re reading other people
of what you make work in life.
Can we get off the stairs?
Can you
table God?
My God he’s big.
Can I rewrite you
a blindin’ every minute
to the creation made today
as we speak,
nothing standardized nothing made
all this past that led up to now?
It’s a fairy rose,
a shapin’ flux
that’s puts together our minutes
seemingly aligned with the past.
A great big school of thought this
that brings the universe to bear.
I mean the universe is jumpin’ out at yah right now,
created this minute don’t you see?
A settled creation no.
Created now
of world maker’s art.
You have these pistons it fits into,
and you grease your days and nights
with your own content.
You are a happening in the Void,
a mechanism for a movie
graveling existence into nothingness
so that we can be.
Do you have your hat on?
When science reaches here it will see God
guiding stars from above
and gathering forms in place,
but it is fairy rose,
the whole damn show.
In this existence is real.
Its rises God,
climbs out of the Void
by lighting it,
and we make up its lives.
See you soon
at the reunion of stars.
We do not come from the Void.
We are the soul in the machine.
Now do you see miracle?
The soul rises in the machine.
Are you startled?
You should be.
That’s the bulwark of creation right in your hands.
Now take a child and whip him again.
You know you’re risin’ stakes.
You don’t see the significance Earth?
It has a wonder-weft in it.
To your mom
Nithish.
We have the autograph books for Being,
big beautiful Being.
That’s why wood’s together,
those two grapplin’ with existence proper,
the boy that makes you uneasy,
the man that makes you question things,
they find inner muscle.
I’ll have X call you back.
You know he’s waiting.
Now for some childhood trauma.
I met the Void
in its dirty underwear.
Outside of the world
I disappeared from Heaven
in a toddler’s nightmare.
Buried alive,
I had existence piled on top of me.
I rose things
that jumped out and rescued me.
Fell down in the Void
a toddler with inner journey secrets.
All our arms point down be careful.
Hell has a wide mouth.
Light itself got me out.
Can I call your name?
Can I name the world?
Caught in those wheels myself existence rose,
right in the middle of the sun.
Now I’ve seen where holocaust comes from,
saw the monsters of the deep
and the origin of all evil.
I felt it there.
Trade me for secrets,
and I will light what can’t be seen.
Come down to earth with me,
and let’s get out of this hole
leading little lives of quiet desperation
not knowin’ where we’re goin’
or a get there to get there too,
just bein’ fishes
in a plastic bottled sea
in the pattern of the days.
Even if you’re rich
or the president of something,
we’re in the Void.
We are almost buried in the machine.
What do we do with these minutes?
We standardize them,
make them in line,
and we do this by society’s test
in the basics of us,
no matter where we live.
I’ve chased you there,
all the great thinkers escapin’ the machine.
I don’t think you can be free in it.
Here is the test now
in a sudden poem.
My God that works.
I can do it.
Fine, I’m in my underwear.
Can I show you the Holocaust again in time,
the cruelty of one towards the other,
the diabolical meanness?
Will you change that way
and be kind to people
or even good,
or will you hate the abusers
and turn off the TV?
Will you see this in your own house
with your own kids,
forcing them into labor camps
of school,
making them obey you or else,
giving them your name not theirs,
making them fill society’s roles
and cutting off their souls?
It’s a holocaust of denial.
We make standard kids
in a standard room,
and we can’t get over it don’t work.
Even if our kids cure cancer,
they haven’t made humanity bigger than itself,
they haven’t evolved us further than ourselves,
they haven’t seized the wheels of time
and discovered us.
You live in a box you see,
a prison house of weft.
I’m tryin’ to find a key to outside
where the inner splendors lay,
but you’ll just shoot me if I’m wrong,
not in my theory in my moral with boys.
Look at you.
You will deny the inside
in the moments of this poem
because I can’t talk about it
I’m not worthy?
We all live in the yellow submarine. [sing line]
Coffee sir,
I think we’re on the brink of change.
I’m off right now.
These are world fireworks
of every cloud in the sky.
I’m a loud chitty bang bang.
I arrest you and put you to sleep.
I call your name at night.
I’m bigger than sin.
I’m your guacamole.
I take you to the temple at night.
I really get into your stuff,
and I can mislead you too.
I can really mislead you.
I play with your consciousness like it’s on fire,
and I wrap it around the gods
and the name you call home.
I’m puddin’ in a bucket.
I show you things unseen about yourself.
I fry there.
I’ve got a lot of gas
to get you to the supermarket and back.
I can change your life
if you let me.
I can show you which way to go
and where you must not go.
I’m a conscious mechanism in dream
and all vision states.
I’m your inner life
where it touches ground
when you’re alone to yourself.
No dammit I'm not Donny.
Jeez, representative think, will yah?
I’m great big and I’m mean.
I mean when you first open me,
for a lot of people.
I change the world
into its starlight,
and I’m all piss and vinegar in them hellholes.
Come open me I’m a gift
of inner seeing,
the lost art of humanity.
Wanna watch it grow?
Right before your eyes
in this poem.
This is what you’re off the grid for,
to get in touch with your inner dynamics,
to reopen miracle and you.
You’ve got to consciousness to get there
and study there like you’re in school,
where to travel in dream
when you wake up in them,
how to use the paralyzed trance
to leave your body and your room
and see if we share a field of consciousness,
how to bake there
in any inner keeping
the questions of existence,
of who you are
and what unfolds time.
Off the grid do you hear me?
No, you can do this in a valet parking lot,
right in the middle of society.
You don’t have to wear shoes.
You can just get goin’
anywhere you find yourself
stuck on Earth.
You don’t have to have any titles to do this,
no special education.
You can just be you
opening the doors of the inner consciousness
and discovering what’s in there
don’t you see?
Samadhi
will come along eventually,
and you will abide there
fishin’,
even in the surrender mode.
We have paths to cross.
We’ve got to get to know time.
We have to see who we are.
This is in the middle of the road.
That's the dream maker.
It gets you out of boxes,
and it’s available to every man, woman, and child,
even in the animal kingdom.
I’m in;
how did you get down there?
You study dream.
You look for the doorways in there,
the spiral force that takes you,
the swing,
and the fall down into the well of soul.
There is enlightenment too
that you can slip into
for a dream wear.
There’s overhead experience.
You focus on the inside
like it’s your business.
Soon you will see the future in dream,
where you dream every night
some part of tomorrow.
It’s in symbols weird.
It will blow your mind.
You will explore consciousness then
so fortified.
I don’t believe in magic.
You will begin to.
Just open the inner doors
with discernment and kindness
and a watch out about yourself,
and see the world change.
You don’t jump in boxes.
You call out my name
and send money to this number.
Now you know how a fraud sounds,
as I notice your red tongue.
Do you wanna be a teacher?
You don’t need a guide.
Go get your calendar.
I’m going to build
a new house.
That takes time.
Inner red riding book,
that’s your splashdown.
How to fly to inner report the eggs that it needs?
Symbol after symbol you will encounter.
It’s the language of the Spirit.
I never thought about needing one.
We haven’t gotten to the interpretation of dreams yet,
but in our little dream company we cracked the code.
Start with Episode 1.
It’s a podcast silly,
but it’s free.
I don’t have a guidebook to give you.
I just have me
when you get down to dream.
I have evidence it’s out there,
the rediscovery of mankind,
the great big rediscovery
of all our good books on survival,
how we get along,
and where we change for one another,
share that field inside.
I’m bigger than my room.
You just watch.
The table where we’re all planted
the beginning of the inner revolution.
Listen to this poem there.
It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature,
and it’s right here we beat AI,
with our own inner television.
I see.
I need a new pair of shoes.
And that’s great.
Earth meaning on a whole,
the meeting of two red lines,
you keep your outer life goin’.
Don’t lose your job,
and if you take your kids out of school,
make sure they can function in society.
Don’t give them your life.
Let them find theirs.
Outer life tuned,
you’re now an ensemble of the inner too.
You don’t get lost there.
You don’t even make it your life’s work.
It’s your education,
how to handle the outer life
and where to go with it,
ultimately how to change the world.
You don’t get led astray
by your name among men.
Can I exemplify you?
You let your art do that.
It will fly before humanity
the flag you’re supposed to,
the take place of you art.
These will come from inner wares,
the more inner,
the more valuable.
You’re not doin’ this to preach.
You wanna find yourself inside
to get into that outside
the proper material.
You’re balancin’ life
the inner wares too.
You don’t cut one short.
The inner and the outer play along
and begin to dovetail.
You can do both at the same time.
That’s advancement.
That’s where it starts,
you outgrow yourself,
you’re becoming the bigger you are,
and it’s diamonds,
but it’s not wear around your neck.
You meet the breeze humbly and sweetly,
without acting.
Your self-honesty has reached sincerity.
Come over here.
You’re in the drawing room of God,
and great shoulder notions
ride your room.
This is the attack plan
of a real world revolution.
Sweet, ain’t it?
Sweet and kind.
This is the attack plan of an inner revolution,
and all you have to do is open your eyes
to inner beginnings.
You got that right?
I’m gonna explore and investigate consciousness.
Bottled up inside you
your destination.
See who it is
an overhead experience.
Now you know you’re there
because you’ve reached this nameless origin,
the Person that you are,
the origin of all your lives,
somewhere up there in the sun,
greatly over your head.
You can see everything.
It’s too big for you to remember
when you return to your little self.
My God this is big,
and there’s no mistakin’ time.
You’ve been outside of it.
You’ve been bigger than the moon,
the tall country of the gods.
I’m ashamed of this?
You don’t even know it’s there.
You can’t count the sun.
Now murder me for it,
or get your persecution gun,
like you’re doin’ now
in Auroville the city of dawn.
I’m an outcast there,
not now about little boys,
where we begun.
I’ve made people mad by seeing things
the community don’t.
I’ve engaged people
who wear special status
in spirituality or somethin’.
They glide in my room
and just spit there.
Most won’t respond to me,
and I’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest
I believe.
These are little people.
What do you do with them?
You come out of your holes
and shine.
You don’t hide yourself no more.
My boy’s at stake I’ve got to do this.
He needs my help.
Will I be here tomorrow?
I don’t know.
I’ve got people on my case.
I can disappear anytime.
So I show you the sun
and where creation comes from.
I give it to you all
free and without regard
to my safety.
Great you say,
big deal,
are you trying to impress us?
It’s the wrong time for this.
Everybody’s show and tell.
I am just one in a number
oh isn’t that interesting?
But here in Topeka
the flies are a buzzin’. [sing this and above line, a song by Loretta Lynn]
I’m in danger here.
What’s a body to do?
Why open more poetry of course,
high priority encounters
about the transfer of the One.
Then you draw the line
he needs rescued.
I want my boy back.
The Anthem Plus the Burning Grass
Spoken word poetry,
till I get it,
I leave it alone.
Wow, it’s left alone.
In case of good poetry break this glass.
I just sit here and discover,
letting the word explain itself
in the giving of lines
and in the hurtin’ of the world.
If I show you the pain will you stop it?
Will you even know it’s there
where you feel your pain?
Oh no another Holocaust movie
all about bein’ numb.
I can’t give you this star-glow
to ride the world on its tongue
feelin’ people.
I’m not a robot I’m free,
but the price of my freedom is your pain,
your wellbeing I feel like my own.
It’s shoots me all the time,
or it gives me stars.
I’m there with you
in the delivery room
of another bucket of world today, huh?
I see through all these sleeves
of world maker’s art,
a world upon world
in the moments with mine,
a conglomerate of worlds
of this group of people and that,
of this person alone,
of all the mini worlds that make up this world
that we call Earth.
Can you see that
simultaneously with your own?
I taste you there.
I know you’re there.
How do I communicate this to you
so you feel it too
like you have your children’s hands in your own,
like your best friend’s smile,
like your mother’s love?
I don’t die there,
but I question God all the time
and Sri Aurobindo.
These are terrible times,
and they get ready for tomorrow
terrible too,
with a past just as terrible
starin’ us in the face.
Let the good times roll,
and my God they do.
How sweet life can be
in its gathered moments,
how manageable,
but why does it always add up to this:
life is not a bundle of joy;
life gets us in corners
and does bad things to us.
Can you understand that?
Why does the world go on like nothin’s happenin’,
like it’s free and easy and clean,
so standardized?
They scream on the news bad news
to an audience of normal,
of tie your shoe,
of everything’s alright here, ain’t it?
Not in every bubble.
So much quiet desperation it has been said.
Do you know the rovin’ hellhole?
Somewhere on Earth
at any given time
they’re eating each other alive.
It’s the worst place on the planet
for a moment.
Hell swallows them whole,
unbelievable cruelty,
and nothin’ to redeem them.
Goddamn that stinks.
Alight I’m blessed.
I live in a little pocket of warmth
and forgiveness.
I have opened the doors to humanity
in the stadium of my room.
I ride there all day
figurin’ you out.
I take great thoughts to the skies,
but I must remember I’m a low man on the totem pole
in your eyes.
I do nothin’ here
that grants you my room,
that shows what I’m doin’
larger than life.
A poet of world standing
I am not.
I’m a poet among many thousands
in the availability of today,
and no poetry comes along and wallops your head
or smites your heart
from my pen.
I just spit in the breeze.
That’s the trash dumpster,
and here let me give it another poem.
I put my dogs to sleep,
and I wish you goodnight.
All united and happy
they think.
Come here Luna.
Get your head… [vision of Luna Rottweiler putting her head in a hole in the ground]
One doggy at a time.
Oh fuck I’m on Candid Camera.
He’s just gonna go for it.
Well then the surprises and bad secrets,
heart is ruined on the same thing:
waging war on the Fourth of July.
What’s the significance of your dog
growing?
Into a likeness of you.
What I didn’t have:
put every slept of it
complete.
My God,
they should be spilled.
What is it this time?
Dr. Milk Powder—
I haven’t called you;
I’ve had enough,
is that the plan?
You know he’s lost his boy.
They’re travel uneasiness
way to stutter.
Don’t you see?
Alongside with it it’s real.
You know his boy’s called
not in awhile.
Suffer this,
and it just last of people’s hittin’.
Do you like people?
Is this fruit juice?
Why is it we always hate somebody,
run there all the time?
You really enjoy this life don’t you?
It seems all fair winds.
Need to pull her pregnant
with the grenade.
It will get you every time.
Just look around the world.
Just look at your neighbor.
Do you know how we get along?
Do you know how we get through this?
We don’t be monsters to each other.
We don’t be mean.
We try to be kind and giving
in our painful moments.
This is overcoming the world
and getting better at yourself.
It’s a love angle,
and we need more love.
That house definitely,
where you put your hat off,
where you sit around.
Love those people,
the people you’re life-in’ with.
You don’t know how much this counts.
It’s all an effort I know.
We have to overcome ourselves to do it sometimes,
but we have to give this baseball
to all the standin’s in the world,
so we can have a world that works.
Is that so hard to believe?
You know the world is full of holes.
Even the divine is negligent
and will crush you to make the world,
will just stand by and watch.
These are not pleasant times,
but we have to endure them,
tryin’ to find joy inside,
tryin’ to give our children a good time.
What else is there?
Spirituality’s a pole we lean on.
There are surprises in consciousness if we let them.
There’s a world maker’s art you can see.
These are deep down inside,
past the underwear,
past all that gets in the way.
There is strong inside,
even after you’re shattered.
This world’s a dream maker’s art,
so much more than show,
but this is a common dream we are having
that the significance of dream shows.
We’re living out a representation
telling a story,
and all our lives add to that
One involved,
and all our lives keep going.
We’re where time loops around itself
a great big mechanism of being
that has definite boundaries
that we can cross and get out of here
after the whole has been complete.
We’re goin’ somewhere together,
and yes some escape before time,
but they’ll end up on another world soon.
This great big ship
has a destination you know,
something worth time,
something bigger than ourselves
and is ourselves at the same time.
I’ve gone out of the universe you see
and been myself on high.
Stupid me,
I describe experience like you’ll believe it,
but you can kill me and it’ll still be there.
It can’t be erased from time.
I’m a nobody because of it,
liftin’ up my room
for you to see.
It’s got crosses on it
and monkey bars,
because I’m just like you,
but I’ve been given a breath of supernal air,
and I need to tell you about it.
It’s affected my vision.
I see the world.
I’m just like everybody,
but I don’t live like you inside.
I live with you and inner vision.
I get rocked by joys
that fill my noon
the outside world doesn’t bring me.
I feel oceans of sadness
I’m not in the world about.
I feel existence pain,
and when I walk outside,
drive my bike through the town,
the countryside,
it’s a wonder-weft of miracle,
and I feel every person I come across.
I see the One inside,
and all the many representations surround me.
I can’t get over it.
Now I’m here
with another poem.
Let it ride the day
if you read it,
because it puts us together
if you escape,
because it’s here
we learn to live again
after your world has been taken away.
Can you see me now?
Can you hear?
The Advent of World Being
Gonna go to the funeral
of my/one nation above all. [two words heard spoken simultaneously]
This is politics.
Nobody knows its price.
There’s no exclusive zones.
You value humanity more than your national individual,
or your race or peoplehood,
even your religion.
Sounds impossible now.
It’s the only way to survive,
equality at its most basic point.
Fundamentalist Christians will have a field day
calling this the Antichrist.
The number of man don’t you see?
666.
And Jews and Moslems
cannot exclusive each other,
and the resistance to that will go to the sink,
but you still be Jew
like it’s your life’s blood.
Americans cannot be Americans
and only Americans.
They must include the world.
India
cannot see her greatness above other peoples
when she can give her spirituality,
definitely
universalized.
No nation or people will ride the others
like they own the planet.
China will have to settle down
and give us good engines to wear.
This is flower,
not put the engines of the world to her use,
and North Korea
will be no more.
All will unite in peace.
This is the human ship
some waves from now.
Can’t believe it, can you?
We’re on the brink of this today,
where ideas ride time,
where ideas enter humanity
as the clothes we wear.
It’s comin’.
It’s not even in our minds today.
It’s not on the news.
It’s a radical idea
everybody’s scared of,
nobody can promote,
neither in the press nor in the government,
and science is busy with atoms
and other small fare.
They will not bring us together.
Academia,
well,
this is a pipe dream,
and increasingly they’re controlled.
Well how does it get in?
Intelligence—
we put the human being first or die.
I’m talking about people’s upon the Earth,
purely political wears.
I’m not talking about ruining existing structures
or eclipsing God with man.
I bright and shiny your day
with your humanity comes first
before any other kin.
We teach that in school,
give this to our babies.
You hear me now?
It’s a price we wear,
gettin’ good at
as we see our survival depends on it.
We start today
in the maker of a poem
where I put my foot ride:
humanity
ever coming first,
in my politics with mankind,
in my behavior,
in my think about you and us,
in where I meet you today.
I’m riding God
as the one I wonder at,
as the one I want to please,
as the one I want to be like,
as the one I want to hold dear
above all else,
as my principle keeper,
and if I put humanity first,
the human being over any category of people,
I am bright house God wear,
and the more I know God,
he’s not an exclusive zone.
He can wear all pronouns at once
and is the love of humanity in my heart.
Where do you think this idea comes from?
It comes from God
one notion humanity.
Past
you’re early.
Noosphere,
everyone’s looking for you.
In siddhi,
that’s where I sit,
and I just made an inner poem.
I made some mistakes
where we meet each other.
I will answer for it
like this:
let’s put humanity first.
In the middle of humanity,
in humanity’s living room,
I can get this across to you
in thought wears.
Come to my room
the thoughts that are out there
pullin’ humanity close to itself
on the frontiers of thought.
I’ve pulled humanity close to itself.
I get in humanity’s room today.
Is this a great mixing?
I don’t think you understand me right.
This is the center of identity
in human terms
among all the peoples.
It’s a movement to grow this in humanity
where you raise your children.
It’s not a boiling pot humanity,
pull your pants down
and let everybody there.
You still have national borders
and respect demographics.
You’re just more human about it.
You give it a liberal hand,
but you don’t overwhelm a culture with immigrants.
We will get good at making their lives better
where they are,
but we will not refuse them to move.
Can I champion human causes?
We need to improve the lives of children in Africa.
You can’t get better infrastructure than that,
priority child’s lives.
Loved at home
and treated brightly,
that’s the food they wear.
Do you see my cultural dynamics?
It’s the number one priority,
meet those children’s needs.
The world doesn’t wanna to be overwhelmed
with immigrants
comin’ out of Africa
from the hungry states.
She was havin’ a baby
gettin’ bigger than the rest of the world.
You wanna see if I can fix it?
That’s the reason
you don’t let population growth get out of hand.
You let it stay in check.
I need to ask you somethin’.
Who writes the news?
We are not listening to wisemen.
I don’t like everybody;
is this everybody?
The warm human being giving rise to the warm human being,
it’s easy if you try.
We have to educate people about children.
The rocket science
is how they treat the world.
It’s amazingly possible
to stop slapping children
and beating their little behinds—
no physical punishment
anywhere on the planet.
Get rid of this nursery rhyme.
Treat it like sexual abuse
in that it has to be stopped,
in that it’s harming humanity.
You would not kill people for it
or treat them like monsters.
You wouldn’t even hate them.
You would understand the rule of abuse:
they just get mad and hit.
Their behavior’s preconditioned,
and who can control themselves
when a spell from the unconscious takes over?
Can anybody?
You’ve never understood this since the beginning of time,
why laws don’t work,
why the killin’ hasn’t stopped,
the rape and plunder,
any ole bad behavior.
It’s unconscious process,
and it has to be stopped
through recognizin’ its process.
Can you do that?
Education will ensue:
stop being monsters
to the stupid monster in everyone.
You don’t hit a kid,
that’s rule number one.
We start at the beginning,
this one Krakatoa.
We get in there and educate the public
like our lives depended upon it.
We help kids
when their parents hit them,
or nazi them around,
or any harsh treatment,
and get in those parents
with the strategies they need to survive/cope, [words heard spoken simultaneously]
forcefully, tactfully.
You can’t abuse them in turn,
but you make them know they’re hurting their child.
A license to have children?
We’ll get to that,
a coverin’ ground
how to have children.
The very first thing you mention
you don’t hit them,
and I’ve left a school behind,
a whole row of poems,
the specifics about them genitals.
Eat it up.
You’ll know where the safe houses are,
the ones comin’ online,
the ones makin’ it right with their children.
They tell their children they’re humanity
before any other row.
They tell them sweetly, kindly,
and without all this pressure.
This is your identity kid.
You’re a human being
in the politics of bein’ human,
who you are among the group.
Sure your people are important,
your race your tribe,
but sweet humanity my dear,
the whole is who we are.
Do you see this trampoline?
It can be done in all existing countries,
in every household on the planet.
Can you get at humanity that way?
Will warm slowly,
but when the idea's out there it’ll catch on.
Let’s get after it people.
Don’t you wanna to stop climate change
and do away with genocide,
and take a big bite out of war,
and how much to gender will be solved
when everybody sees their human being
and not just a gender walking towards them?
Okay little human being,
you get started.
Okay let’s ride.
That old door
we can lock it.
We can lock it
by taking a rule and applying it to behavior.
I will never understand
why it keeps rising.
It’s good fiberglass,
but when you bump it it breaks.
It’s only doable
in finding your own fine seals baby.
You really test the waters there,
overcome behavior with a song,
“I Love My Child”.
Listen,
listen close,
back to the tree,
that shadow tree,
that tummy I don’t give up.
It seems like this whole thing
is evidence
there’s so much to the hitting of children,
and there’s a whole lot we don’t see,
but always remember
forgive me
and go save my child
when you’re in Africa.
That’s really what he wants,
what they want,
parents who beat their children:
they need help raising their kids.
They just don’t wanna admit it.
You can control yourself.
How do you do?
Could be good company comin’ in.
Those are the helpers
you see.
It could be divine speech.
I’m tired of standing here with supramental orders that can’t even be looked at. /
Comin’ off a blog,
you can’t get that heretic.
You get a certain group of followers and that’s it.
My fingers count the readers of these poems.
You can count to ten
for most posts.
How many morally outraged people are there?
On them days there’s a spike,
the people lookin’ for the gun.
I’m a rose in a cabin,
and never I get out of that cabin
and out into the public’s heart.
I press controversial material,
and there’s a lot of fear there.
I have not been allowed to speak
I come from that social group.
People are fear there.
Come to the concert
all your children
in that they come first.
I’m a child lover.
I am a child lover that knows how,
and God has taken my hand and shown me how.
Will you dance with me?
You can’t film a psychological drama.
They’ve upped the ante.
We’re all weirdos.
We don’t know what we’re talkin’ about.
Thankful,
be thankful.
Somebody’s
made some sense of all this,
and I’ve done that expertly and cleanly.
You can see it now,
and here I am humanity giving you humanity,
a toe to raise your children
telling them they’re humanity,
a radical idea to change humanity
into its kinder parts,
most noble.
We need this to survive.
We find each other on the limits of sacrifice.
This is no fools barred.
We include everybody.
Alright ship let’s go.
Let’s get on with it.
It’s a glory ride
right into our business
and actually, physically change the world.
Don’t a waste it.
We got this down.
We’re gonna tall this in
and go for walks
with the greatness of our children
beautifully down the road.
I’m in a compartment blog.
We don’t remember.
It must be a huge one.
You’ve slept in a ponytail before.
This is woke
at its most basic part,
where it means somethin’,
and that all of humanity rides.
It’s possible it’s possible,
and gather to me now
all the action
when we walked in Heaven together,
when we lived in bright beautiful homes
with no strife.
You don’t believe this I’m sorry/I know [phrase heard spoken simultaneously]
gathered here into your one life,
but we’re guardin’ plans
at the altitude
of Heaven meets Earth,
and all that Heaven’s gold’s here.
There’s where we start to ride.
It’s a recipe of children maker,
and it’s always been in our hands to use.
We’ve just had to get here
at the opening of the Earth.
You won’t be surprised
this all came about,
we made it,
future read this.
The cosmology of plans fulfilled
looks so inevitable to us,
but a cliffhanger in a half
this was.
For example,
I almost didn’t make it, you know?
I’m the preacher of the word,
the choir I sing to,
and I’m the congregation I start.
Gettin’ ahold of yourself,
it’s the tooth fairy about livin’.
Hold on,
I must tell yah
I’ve really done that,
and it wasn’t easy.
Come on let’s bake this mile.
We have a world to change.
Let’s get goin’ people.
Harm's End 