I Can Touch His Own Feeling

photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Yes of course you can go beyond man.
I felt the house alone.
I stood there on a bridge of time,
not expecting outcomes.
I just saw reality.
It was frozen bare,
and it challenged me to think
surpassing thought.
I was alone in the room,
and even Nitish was there
and my beloved dogs.
I heaved,
approaching the Silence.
It was an illusive prey.
Infinity stole my mind.
It grabbed me by the Silence.

I was a good day.
I cooked lunch,
did my duties
and took care of the people around me.
They were fighting their own battles
and needed my help.
I stood there and be a friend.
I listened to myself
giving them what they need.
I was withdrawing from time.
I stared at the gates of forever.
It orange glowed.

I gathered myself.
I didn’t have any pockets.
Things were to me on the shelf.
I craved no vital indulgence.
I was tired of the play.
Relaxing it was just to stop my thoughts.
It stood upon a verge of time
unaccompanied by time.
I was in that place where God was
the spectator in the room.
Sri Aurobindo held my hand.
The Mother surrounded me.

I loved myself,
faults and all,
but I was in transit from the center of the room.
I was beginning to smile.
I was beginning to hold water,
reacting less to things around me,
but still a reaction bore.
It was a principled state
that divined the reality of others to themselves.
I felt them Self with me.
I felt them safe with me
reacting less and less.
The world was a communiqué and a sound.

Still I was hated
in Auroville
and by the yoga.
No one looked at me
with kind eyes.
I understood and did not hate in return.
I continued to send them postcards:
help me
undo being this outcast among you.
It fell on deaf ears.
I was pariah.
Hello?

Great big bold thoughts,
when they looked at me,
gave them pause to think
for one second.
That’s it.
No one would talk to me,
except to brush me off.
I realized the condition of man.
We are animals in nearness to each other,
even when we have our high ideals
and so many rhymes to sing.
When you’re an outcast you see that.

We are stuck in our ways,
and change is a four-letter word
when you hit that most basic stuff,
someone’s morality,
their motherland,
their lens with which they view the world.
Can you tell me what changes minds,
open hearts
to what they are closed to?
What a position I’m in to learn that.

Our race is doomed,
and the divine has chosen the wrong race to foster.
Change is incremental and slow,
if it happens at all.
But then I look in my own eyes
and see what’s happening with me.
Oh my God we have a chance.
Oh my God we have a chance.
How do you fill in light?
How do you bring change into the room?
You bring change into the room.
It won’t come any other way.
Okay children?

Reality

photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

In a large distribution gap saw man,
a wide, territorial spree.
A trouble on islands,
they could not chapter this.
They saw each one to blame
but themselves,
or if they saw their faults
they didn’t recognize them in the field of play.
This screamed solution.
No power on earth could stop it.
Everyone saw themselves the leader of the play,
even when no leadership bore.

Listen to me I’m human—
social media post after social media post.
And they all cried:
I’m the development of man;
listen to me.
Nobody was a warehouse
of the exact thing in ourselves we needed to see.
This was how we play ball.
The game itself had no meaning.
We were Earth flat.
Nobody spoke our language
or could write up their own,
but they kept speaking.

Well the only thing I could do was cause trouble
with the abundance of you and I
in such a routine I told you so,
in such an abundance of I told you so.
I don’t think you understand this.
I think we are all spokesperson for humanity,
but what we are speaking we can’t say.
It’s all void of meaning,
not big enough to show the problem.
We nosedive into it
and break apart upon the seas.
It’s terrible inane,
and we can’t get past chapter 1.

Take it upon yourself to show this to us,
and no one sees it.
Everyone is a brick wall
when they need to see something
they don’t want to see.
Can we see nationalism in India?
Can we see Sri Aurobindo?
And we see Sri Aurobindo?
You read the Torah?
If God Himself told you to change it,
would you?
Muhammad’s infallibility,
tell me he’s not
something human.
Kill people because he is,
and that just puts us down.
Everybody see the Son of God?
Everybody see the fatherless God
born from sin?
And that’s how I believe in miracles,
excluding reality.
Are we alright with atheists?
I don’t want God to exist;
therefore He doesn’t.

Now let’s just start with standard room.
I hate bad people,
and they should be punished.
Oh great we saw man,
and wanted us to rub our nose in it.
A holistic reality isn’t a thing among us,
and here we are at where we’re at,
and no one could care less about reality,
and that’s my thought for the day,
where this poem sits in your lap.
Can you grasp inside it?
Can you get behind it?

The Well of Human Unity

photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Goin’ through the tunnel of a poem,
I sit here and write to you.
I puppy every morning.
That’s a little boy I get off to school
or get ready for the day.
Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed no,
he’s a bear.
He’s difficult to deal with
in the morning times.
I just do my job.
Stand around and baby me!
Hold that thought while I iron your uniform.
J.A.R.V.I.S., mach 4!
And on goes the uniform.
It’s a rush to get him off to school.
And there we go.

I really like my job.
I don’t get annoyed too easily.
I’m giving the world its fresh morning start.
I’m giving God his clothes for the day.
That boy gets my full attention.
He’s my special project.
What does he think about it?
You’d have to see it believe it:
he just wants to be with me all the time.
What do I give him that other people don’t?
I give him the bell role,
and he sure makes use of that bell.
I am so delighted to be in his presence.
I cherish him
a devoted man,
hang on his every word,
well almost,
and just shower him with attention.
We’re not always there.
So much time we spend alone
doing our own thing
in close proximity.
Even now he’s on the computer
a few feet away.

Why do I give him this attention?
I can’t give you a label that fits.
Nothing I can call myself works.
Pederast, pedophile, boy lover,
I think you’d think of sex.
You don’t understand.
I love him
in that special way you love boys
when they embody to you your other half.
Let me explain.

I think we all desire union
with a person to fulfill ourselves.
It’s not always the opposite sex.
I think you’ve accepted gay and lesbian unions,
although some people still have problems with the sex.
Well here we are with a boy
representing my opposite half to me.

Okay put God there
you tell me offended by the relationship,
and that’s what I have done.
The boy’s not God for me.
God’s lookin’ at me through that boy.
Now imagine if you really saw this.
I’m not there to harm him, am I?

Granted,
it’s not easy to sacrifice sex and the romantic squeeze.
You do it because you have to.
You love that boy.
You love humanity,
and God you love,
and you don’t forget you love yourself.
Now tell me love can’t do it.

It is stronger than your hate,
what I’ve had to overcome to sacrifice sex,
your hatred.
You’re the biggest obstacle a pedophile faces
in making it right with children.
You can’t even see this.
Sitting in your buffered self,
you can’t see your hate reach the world.
Consciousness is to you a byproduct of brain,
and the hidden consciousness we all share,
you just deny.
A bubble’s worth,
it means no more.
Are you following me?
Now what do we do with pedophiles?

Now tell me love isn’t strong enough
to get them to love kids right.
You are so mistaken with your animal impulses.
You give hate the day.
A pedophile has a purpose if he could be made right.
Let’s grasp a little boy by the horns.
He needs a lot of focused attention,
and no not every pedophile would have one,
and I don’t know how many little boys need a pederast at their side.
Soul manages things,
and we’ve got so much to learn to let it do that.

I’ve made a beginning
to give you this example,
the making of a poet.
Will you hear me?
Anyway here we go.
Let's book ends meet.
He's in patterned straights.
He has the divine attention.
I just look after him.
The divine attention melts
into that he is a poet.
I keep him open to that line.
That's my job with him.

The logic of a poem,
it’s clear on certain things.
Let’s play with boy love, shall we?
Every boy has potential
to be something worthwhile in this world,
I mean in human stakes,
raise our integer.
I’m sorry girls too,
but that’s not my discussion today.
You think I’m talking fame.
I’m talking make us a better people,
and many are unknown who do that.
Now where do we bring the boys along,
the ones who have that mark
of adding meaning to our lives?
Why not a pedophile brings them,
not barring other people can?
I don’t think you know the meaning of pederasty
as an ideal mentoring us along one boy at a time.
You imagine only sex.

And where do we take this vehicle from,
in its proper form,
what brings humanity closer to itself?
Have you ever heard of human unity?
No believe me you have not.
Every area of human life
has to charge itself to human unity.
Every perversion has to find the divine purpose behind it.
This is not a communist manifesto.
God is the unity of all,
the God that brings oneness
as the guiding principle of our lives.
It’s a process of soul.

All our ships will have to be recommissioned.
Every institution,
marriage, family, law and order,
and all our means of employment,
has to produce human unity to survive.
It’s a lofty idea.
Put in practical terms it means fundamental change.
The very engines of society have to change.
Anybody who they are by nature
will have to be dealt with
in the light of human unity,
the most perverted,
and it’s there we reach harm’s end.

Nothing is done we prepare in school.
What would it be anyway different?
Look who we are
and match with that who.
Perfection comes from both of them,
the creature of the world
and the creature of God.
Bruno!
Ideology
can’t put up with this,
someone dangerous.
I don’t think an annual wait would work.
You would have to show them
the way of life to change.
Oh my God experimentation,
how you have to do that.
That means it can’t be a national field,
set about by its laws.
It means overturnin’ bein’ human.
I’m there with a camera
right in your argue belt.
We’re almost there,
where you see my contribution.

Individual's place power,
look at this.
I’m talking to you today
the very thing I’m talking about.
How do you propose this?
Well can you think of better circumstances
for human unity to come waltzing into the room,
when the lights of human unity Auroville are almost out?
The city will still be there
even when human unity is not
where it is taking itself.

You want Auroville the city of the status quo,
government-run Auroville.
You’re not going to produce the new human being.
No radical shift in consciousness there.
Rules cannot arrive at human unity.
How we’ll have to overcome consciousness,
all these formations of ill will floating around.
Tell me the outer process sees this.
It takes an inner revolution
overturning society’s ways.
We need circumstances for that.
We need Auroville.

And there you are in Auroville
arguing for land this and that,
ecological green, the keys to the office, what have you.
Something more fundamental’s at stake.
Can you see where we’re at?
We’re at the very crossroads of the city itself.
Who’s taking over,
the ordinary way of life or human unity,
and who will Auroville produce,
just more people or the superman?
It’s time for you to decide.

The Indian government can’t do it.
It will just produce the Indian government.
It has no means to outgrow itself.
You’d need a charter that says what it needs,
and we go from there.
You have the charter in your hands
the Mother wrote.
To listen to superman,
he's always on time.
Where are you gonna get a map?
Look right here.
Can you see the way?
If you're like me,
it'll take you awhile to see it.
And another little baby child is born in the ghetto. [heard sung, by Elvis]
There's just so much at stake,
and we need to hurry.
So race to human unity on itself.
Alright news, listen.
Cause man help.

The Waking of Pontius Pilate

photo by Donny, gimped by him, middle painting “Plato’s Cave” by Lalita Hamill, others source unknown

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Read the stories around the area.
Read Mcdowell Christian’s story where he says he’s gay.
He’s been made a knight of honor
by the press.
Even Anglican bishops compromise over him.
No way
you’re gonna laugh his book to death.
You’ll make him the star of the show.
Oh my God his struggle brings you to tears—
the narrow-minded people along his way.

Woke agenda,
this is the story today
in our Liverpool.
Good God almighty great balls of fire, [heard sung]
everybody’s mean, you know it?
I think you’re too woke to see this:
how you have to have some disadvantaged marginalized people to kick around.

It’s not sufferin’ you’re lookin’ at.
You’re lookin’ at what’s easy to look at.
You won’t even look at the pedophile
except to hate his name in public.
It’s socially acceptable to kick him around,
enjoy watching him killed.
Can you say the word spaz?
How sensitive to people’s pain you think you’ve become,
those of you writing words out of our lexicon.

Wait a second,
will you throw me a line?
I’m writing the poetry of the world and nobody reads me,
and I am more outcast than Noah.
I sit in my house and write these poems to the world,
and all you read is the scarlet letter P,
and my poems do not get passed around.
I’m just a dirty creature with fangs.

Come out, come out, wherever you are
the woke person truly there.
Feel my pain.
My whole family’s disowned me,
those blood ties you celebrate so much.
It’s not a real joint.
I’m not even allowed to be alive
if you study the fine print in the news.

Now let’s talk about miracles.
I’m not a monster you know.
I’m so bright and shiny it’s not even funny,
and here I am talking to you.
Where is the thought police?
Why hasn’t cancel culture canceled me?
Years I’ve been on the road
a social media page.
Come on let’s get real.
I show you what woke really means, don’t I?

And I’m not talkin’ about racial politics,
sexual identities,
and all that jazz.
Do you see reality or the agenda you wear?
Do you even remember your dreams?
I’m a laughing stock.
I’ve seen reality outside of the cave,
and I know more than shadows
along the wall.

I’ll tell yah about a story
about yourself.
Football yourself,
Mr. Davis,
all in love with divinity. [heard sung]
Television ran out.
A hillbilly question:
is God really the nature of the universe?
Taste the Sugar.
You want it now.
You are the Sugar you see.

Mode of vehicle does not determine birth.
Identity politics,
where is this vision free?
What’s your contribution?
Is it for the whole race?
You have marginalized me to the nth degree,
and I sing your song.
I am all about your meaning.

I have a question.
What do they call
a bit more
than the alphabet among us?
Poetry it’s been explained to you changes the world
or at least has impact.
When they’re not supposed to be there,
we’ve become so blind,
poems come to open our inner sense,
and now you’re reading mine.
Will you allow me in my meditative friend?

Sri Aurobindo Birth Cemetery

from Twitter

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Tear the whole thing apart.
I’ve been writing all of my life,
over a lifetime’s hole,
the orange and white.
I shake my hips and sing.
Some call me indecent.

Do penises shame?
Do they dance and sing?
It's so down to earth your control program:
nice and cool
leave the boy alone.
We can get over matter.
The most gorgeous boy in the world’s layin’ beside me,
and I’m writing a poem.

Now where do we do business?
That goes there. [vision of a TV screen in snow static]
Walkin’ to Sri Aurobindo’s birth anniversary.
I live it down.
All this interest he’s generated is not sincere.
I don’t know how to tell you this:
he’s clickbait.

Grab his pants will yah?
I’m awfully strong.
I feature in lit fests,
in everybody’s alter ego.
I liberated India
and will the superman bring.
I am bigger than the world,
but I’m only in Indian subcultures:
tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet.
We put the energy abounds,
the mesmerizing of a name.

Okay take him apart.
Where would we put him?
I don’t think we can find him
in his early quotations.
Do you know the fullness of his thought?
He wasn’t a barnstormer.
He wasn’t even a nationalist in the end,
where so many put him.
He got bigger than stars.
Would we say Supermind is an Indian thing?
He’s callin’ the shots
for the whole damn race to change.

So pigeonhole him
the nationalistic spirit.
Be a lie unto yourself
because you vote for Trump.
I’m sorry, I’m crossin’ lines.
Can we say Trump’s Modi?
They’re not identical twins.
It’s a time spirit phenomenon
all wrapped up nice and pretty.
Nations are heaving with nationalism.
Hear India?

I don’t know which one there is victory or defeat.
I’m not a time spirit reckoning.
I just came to say Sri Aurobindo
is not a nationalistic voice.
He saw Supermind on earth,
and that was his evolutionary aim,
and that’s what he showed us
much better than we think we saw.
You’re all wrapped up in particulars.
Let’s look at the Sun, shall we?

I think he built a bridge
from here to there,
there beyond this field of stars.
It’s bigger than the universe,
even if you don’t understand it.
I’ve studied there
in one great big moment of my life,
the only way you can see there:
be there.
I’ve offended everybody I know.
It’s not that you believe me;
read me
and tell me I only know here.

Now can we get past a name?
They trip us up every time.
Okay put a pedophile in Supermind1
for one sudden moment in life,
and we’ve found a way out of name.
You got it.

________________________________________________________________

  1. For a description of the experience click here.

Love Is

photo by Nitish

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

A spread of humanity
in Indian business,
that’s the way.
Everbody’s calling cards,
their race card,
caste or religion.
I’m tellin’ yah the direction is up.
We’ve been clannish too long.
Hear what I’m sayin’?

What would govern us?
Some say love it is a fountain. [heard sung]
I can only quote love,
give it divine wings.
It’s the psychic fire in us
recognizing the unity all is,
and with this soul lamp
we will argue in favor of God.

It’s not the God of Hindus,
however many you may count.
It’s the Supreme in each of us
bearin’ out Its world.
I can light the fire
in my own soul’s keeping,
in the middle of my own life,
to bring God closer to me
when I see your face,
in any face I see.

This is not popular.
It’s not the rule of the crowd.
It’s God on earth my friend
manifesting His reality among us.
We need to get over the divisions among us
in our heart’s call to the world.

Can you see this in India
and still love India,
and still be a Hindu, Muslim, or Sikh?
Does God count rainbows?
Each one is His smile upon the world.
Tell everyone
God’s on earth you see.
That’s the epiphany.

I was born yesterday,
and I’m pushin’ the envelope now,
a foreigner
just blinding speaking his piece,
a foreigner causin’ trouble;
would you handcuff me this way?

Let me make myself clear:
God I love you,
I’ll put it on the freeway
and drive that idea across country—
and keep your eyes on the roadway at all times.

A Mixin’ on the Cosmic Two Yard Line

photos by Donny, gimped by him

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Alright let’s look at yah.
Amazing tornado,
it fixes the Yoga
right along its seams.
He reveals the Yoga.

No one’s ever done this before.
Wow, enlightenment.
It’s not possible to ignore ‘im.
He is delivery man.
This upsets the applecart.
Do you admire this or tear it apart?

A nice, safe and comfortable high five.
They’re just startled.
You manifest.
It’s beyond their pale.
If she has it she gives it to yah,
American house maker’s exchange.
You know what?
Put the dog in here.
Nitish bring them all.

Heat—The Inevitable Word
look where he’s wired.
We found him.
He’s in the city.
He’s around the ashram program,
an independent speaker of Sri Aurobindo.

Take him down.
We’re sure this is not the Word.
Who made frogs talk to him?
I was not prepared for the length of his contribution.
I can’t believe it;
he’s put so much out there.

My God the Word.
This is what it looks like.
Where do we put him?
Just leave ‘im alone.
A revolutionary speaker,
a speaking prophet,
are you kidding?
That’s for us.
It’s instant thrown away.

Down, down, down, up/down/up, down/up/down.
Down, down, down, up/down/up, down/up/down. [Heard this strum for the guitar]
I’ve write a song for you.
I collaborated you see,
from the bottom of my heart.
From there to the world,
from my touch with the world.
Even indicate a Spirit itself,
the whole planet.
I can’t see it—
an audience speaker.
It’s so close.

Consciousness saving devices
led by Sri Aurobindo.
I drew up the Alamo.
Drew up by popular mechanic.
I will besiege their house.
I will besiege the Alamo.

The divine comedy of Snob Owens
received poems.
You’re composed too much to be mood.
Your life is mood.
Don’t you know you are a shooting star?
There are other universes, other universes, other universes.
Across the universe across the Self.

What?
Every accomplishment will be made little of.
Is that where I piss?
They don’t understand.
No one understands.
You’re gettin’ a medal for bravery.
I’ve been calling this for years.
All you have to work on is the technique.
I give you the words
I give you the song
Mr. Inner Ear.

Talk and oneness are the same.
I do believe I’ve said my piece.
61 minutes
it’s on the way.
All these poems
the way you bring “Above National Commitments” out into the public?
Hear the radio.
It’s comin’.
Put your hat on boys it’s comin’—
right on the two yard line.

A New Years Party Resolution

Poems by Donny Lee Duke

Photo by Jake Weirick on Unsplash
Photo by Avi Waxman on Unsplash
Photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash
Photo by Erik Witsoe on Unsplash
Photo by Dan Asaki on Unsplash
Photo by Alex Lvrs on Unsplash
st Photo by KMA .img on Unsplash, 2nd Photo by Ravi Sharma on Unsplash
Photo by Jaric Swart on Unsplash
1st Photo by Cash Macanaya on Unsplash, 2nd Photo by Jaric Swart on Unsplash
1st Photo by Tani Olorunyomi on Unsplash, 2nd Photo by Susanna Marsiglia on Unsplash, 3rd Photo by Donny, of Lisa, Nikon FM 2, black and white film, self-developed

To Further Science

Lisa Joy Rottweiler

Yeah we went down to everybody’s but King Lear was here.
Spiritual enlightenment,
I’m past gold card.
It’s hung up in the bank.
I just keep getting tested I’m sorry.
Now we call on rabies to get vaccinated.
Will I die?
I’m a patrol boat.
I turn everything in.
I’m strong in squares.
Everybody’s down on me yes.

All night
jazz somebody.
Is it overkill?
I’m talking about the Frenchman in the harbor,
my toe
broadcast to the world.
The muse is my bedfellow.
Stranger coming.
And I hear the voices at night.
All along the shores of reason
this infinity swirls.
I’m a gust of wind called.
I produce alphabets,
stacking up reality in pictures
that are not what you usually see.
Can you reason with them?
I’m an explosive marinade.
I paint past pictures.

I’m edifying you.
Would you laugh in thought
or take my hand?
I’m a dumbbell.
How many reps can you do?
I mean read to understand.
We are for folks.
We sing loud and clear.
We are fro friend in need.
Look at this as a gift.
A microcosm,
I’m a twilight zone.
I do pronouns bigger than you.

There are voices behind this
bigger than me.
It’s all fountain keep.
I love it in the afternoon.
Who doesn’t want to sleep at night?
I get paid.
Divine love in boxcars
show me the way.
It’s substantial rhythm
taking my life apart
and going to harmony work.
I know my own business.
And here we are.

Rolling pin anyone?
I just got so much to say.
No problem,
he’ll be joining the first one.
How for?
How could I do that?
It’s so funny,
my moon face.
Social media,
I’m a strong count here.
Of course use me.

Everybody’s model,
now, this is gonna be difficult.
What baby?
We throw in the dog,
and Luna.
Well ride ‘em on my puppy is not as single as all that.
An emergency takes aim at afterlife.
Where’s Luna,
Bruno?
No this is
Lisa.
Lisa’s like that,
is a to herself dog.

Can I get to know her?
She’s easily put.
It’s hard to put you there.
This is exploratory duty.
You need to tell Lisa you care.
Talk and say things.
Your puppy’s not gonna
order her light bulb
in the next few days.
Well we love about her.
We adore her.
I mean sound her name
every time you turn around,
she’ll grant you
some special privileges.

Why can’t she go?
She likes it
so near you.
Is she suffering?
She has all this radio station.
She is so occupied with you guys.
A lot more wood
had to be put
into the system.
Just rises in
that is the toppest dog you’re hearin’.
Keep sayin’ her name.
Lisa baby
please come with me.
This is so close:
you’ve got to be human baby.
Lisa baby,
I’m on our way.

Venture,
wow, what a year it took
bulldozers
getting people outta here.
They not deserving and not needing
synergy,
the sadhana circle.
Can we grace them please
while they go?
I hear the heart in your room.
I’ve got this incredible heart of my own
you’re not balanced with.
Bye people, go.
We used to it,
taking advantage of Steve McCoy.
Now this affects her thinking.
This is written on our desk.

That’s what I’m gonna be doin’,
gettin’ into world thought.
I do that every day.
Now I have the plans for you.
I’m gonna move in
and question reality.
Save the country,
there’s something there.
There’s a being.
The people to become better.
The being to see the world as its friend,
educated
on family.
That’s the thought,
ride family
to everybody’s related on Earth.

We finish with this blog
Harm’s End.
When he goes back up here,
now harm’s end
I will reach you.
Get ready.
Now Lisa,
I’m going to find my dog.

If you wanna touch mark on the spiritual path and be seen by future doctors
help this guy get published.
A scientist
didn’t study reality.
A seer did.

The Minister Everywhere

Pope Francis in Rome, photo Credit: AP/Alessandra Tarantino

What is it about to see a priest?
Be reviewed by God
doesn’t happen.
You’ve just been given time off
from that urge to find God.
It satisfies your religious sense,
nothing else.

That’s the big lie:
popes and priests grapple for you God.
They are the wellspring
of our inability to find God.
You must believe in them or else.
Have I mentioned the clergy?

We think they’re holy men and women.
They don’t know how to tie their shoe:
be a system unto God.
They are a profession in a bank,
are not knowledge of God.
They can show us the way to enlightenment
very few.

What do you do with them?
Helping men and women for causes just
we give them credit for.
Something in them has a calling
they’ve mistranslated into religion.

They could go deeper,
and some have.
I don’t think you would find them in today’s textbook,
but I’m sure there’s one or two out there.

So are they obstacles to God?
In a manner of speaking yes.
Desmond Tutu would not find for you revelation.
You quote man’s ways
on his greater path.
You are not a stark naked outlook on God.

So, do we just find God ourselves
unaided from God?
What is a seer?
They’ve opened God unto their lives,
can express the spoken word
they hear from on high
or from their being’s core,
the hidden speech
that labors out the world.

It is not God talking,
but it is the sound of His voice,
clear with His meanings dim,
for God cannot inhabit human speech,
but revelations still come down,
and the mystic word gives us bright hints of God.
This the seer does.

You have heard him spoken in cities,
heard her upon the mountaintop.
Can you find the inner Guide?
That’s the clergyman in every home,
the minister everywhere.
Can we come to this?
Can we be unto God?
The minister of the Earth
God everywhere.