The barriers of time, I don’t think you ride them very well. We come up against them all the time. They’re in our shoes. They hurt a lot. You can’t see this for the daylight, the great big prison playroom we are in. It’s got walls to it intrinsically built into each one. That’s where our cameras go. That’s how we feel this test.
Your loved one’s on the other side of the room bakin’ pies. In symbolic meaning that’s a round of thought comin’ your way. You’re separated by time’s barriers. You can’t get at each other in the physical sense. Great big surprises come your way when you do, cramped experience that puts relationship to the test. You hold them there sweetly, and then you may never see them again.
You don’t know what’s up, what’s goin’ on. I’ve left my poem alone in a fire so heartfelt in love’s embrace. I can’t get at the tires, or maybe death’s got your door, and your dog’s died, the great big sloppy-lickin’ dog of your life, and no ma’am I haven’t just lost a dog. I’ve lost a reality so big it took up half my room. She was always there lickin’ paws next to my life. Losing her took my front teeth— my daughter you know.
She’s melting time’s barriers tryin’ to see me. I don’t think you know the cough of this universe. It’s horrifying. I see her damn near every day tryin’ to reach through vision to get me near to her. Death’s reality would spook you if you knew it’s there. I’ve muscle on this, but I’m pigeon-toed. I can’t just hold my girl like she’s right up against me. I hold her paw in some astronaut’s gleaming Interstellar there at the back of the house. The confines of death, they break us apart.
The muscle of time, do you know it’s there? It separates you from everything— one little lonely being at a time. Times barriers put us in a single physical space where we can’t figure each other out. We laugh out loud, then cry.
You’re a pickup truck that can’t pick anybody up. You hold yourself the station of the universe, but you can’t move a goddamn thing if others block you. They are themselves the center station too. The great paradox of life makes you powerless to act where you would give your right eye to act but cannot, in those places most meaningful to you you have no power over. You sit in time scaling your life, a sheer wall of belief and hard fact, never any top in sight. What are you doin’?
It puts us to the test. Time’s warriors bake and sell us at the flea market, but this is not why you’re here, and you last longer than Heaven, a safe haven at the back of the house to get our strength back but that can trap us too. We are so much bigger than death that blinds us all while we’re still alive. Hold your child close. Can you protect him from anything bigger than your arms of control? Fiend death my friend, he sucks. What’s the answer to all this? What are we doing?
The answer lies on a page in a WordPress blog? Definitely, if you know how truth presents itself. It’s not haughty and it don’t wear spears. It might even be embarrassing, hittin’ in society’s low spot. It would be uglier than the norm, the vehicle of truth, but it would shore you up with sincerity if you test it. It would be one among a mass that your truth sense recognize, because it is beyond belief in name and form. It’s not part of the system that ensnares you.
Come to my party? There’s no snaking you there. You just have to realize what’s been true all along, but that you have never seen because it’s so represent itself, and you only see the representation, the figure in time, or the one who has wings to be your figure of God behind it you thought about a lot but never really met. The scientist would just see a meaningless void.
Can’t you see I got your skies on? I’m not pollutin’ the skies. I’m not anything wrong. Well how about that? I hold my boy in love’s embrace, and we figured out time. That’s the challenger for your social skies. I’m not doin’ business. I’m a love angle on time to make us greater in it. That’s the vehicle in the room. Can you dig it?
The limits of time, they are both normal and strange. You can’t be in two places at once a sudden trapdoor to a greater life. You are either who you are upstairs or the little I down there livin’ life. I’ve seen this juxtaposition, where I got out of time. It was a railroad. Greater times are comin’.
Now I just comb my hair and wash my face and shoot my gun? No I land this in your lap reachin’ through a poem to you. It’s fresh meat now, but where will I be when I am dead, and you’re readin’ these words? Look around the room. Am I there a thought stroke?
That’s life, you know the big one. Strict society belt won’t even let you think this to yourself. I’m bein’ looked in on by me with a question: how much longer you runnin’ half the house? You will have a future integral with who you are on high. My God this is big, and we meet time’s barriers down the because in the room. I’m comin’ after you foldin’ time, a lesson in reality completely out of the script. You’re gettin’ that script.
I’ve come all the way from the ground up. I’m not an existential crisis. I know who I am. I’ve been shot that’s all, ghosted by most everyone, put out to pasture. What do you do with that, and you identify with the world, hold it close your livin’ self? You have gone out of time and been the big who we are, enough to see it, enough to be it to know it’s there.
I’ve seen outside the symbolism, outside the roles we play. Even if you call it a computer simulation, figuring the unknown with the known, whatever you call it, I’ve been in compassionate reality, the bigger reality beyond this one. I’ve seen the real thing. No one counts this as a thing to be known where animals food our feeding faces as our reality, no depth to it, no meaning, nothing behind, except Gods to worship and obey or enlightenment’s sweepstakes that bring you empty shell.
Can’t you see beyond time? What’s bigger than the universe? Is that just empty skies? What’s bigger than playpens? I’m a figure on that. So like the show to give you the universal accepted scapegoat as the one to show. I can’t get my name in public. I can’t even write it down anywhere near heard. Is that just because I’m lying?
Can I show you my flag? It’s not rainbow screwed. It’s your heartbeat and mine symbolizin’ time. It’s where everybody goes to school. It’s the time of day in this poem. It’s where we all meet at the end of the classroom. I’m sorry it’s me, but hello I’m yours.
The terror is only a being in time. The face of evil, It can’t get at that larger you in transcendence’s sphere. It has no power there. It can only rattle your cage. Anything it does to you it’s not doing to you but to the actor in that cage. This is the meaning of no harm can come to you.
It’s beyond time time's relevant, time's keeper, truth's formula, but it can act within time and space with impunity, with absolute, unhindered power. It is bigger than evil. It has eyes on you, not to save your life but to bring you home. It does not stare you down. It doesn’t even guide you with any advice. It’s up there. You’re down here, but it’s comin’ to meet yah. It’s comin’ to be who you are down here. This is the plan of Earth, what her victory skies.
You are a crossroads to that. We are at Earth’s great turning point to land ourselves there. I am a seed bearer that is all. I come to tell you what’s comin’, and if my voice don’t get out someone else will. This is the mystery time hides, why it put you in a straight jacket, why it won’t leave you alone. Can you understand me? Do you see what I’m doin’? I’m meetin’ you with your maker who is you. I’m solvin’ the mystery of time. I’m giving you wings to grow. Take my hand please, these worded verses, and make it all worthwhile.
Protracted, a polar bear’s smile. It’s gonna take a long time to reach Supermind. It’s not there at our feet. It’s not your garden grow. It’s not at the hoof of your horse. It has to be as common as a cold for you to see it. The more people up there for a moment’s gleam, it holds you up there breakout sweepstakes.
This area’s comin’ into our view portal now the hesitancy in time. It’s comin’ your way in poems Emily Dickinson’s undiscovered continent she looks out on from her pier. Rumi’s love poem says you can only see the sun by the sun. Did we see him there? Now this poet speaks in plain as day. I’ve reminded you of Supermind in Savitri’s care. I’m just the outcast that says it.
Now hold me close. You don’t have to do nothin’, just read the poem the miles that you work today, the poem that you reach today. It’s such a piano to look at the subway and see supernal skies. Stand the subway of time. Is that tomorra mornin’?
Emergency level truth’s barriers, time’s walls. There’s a lot goin’ on. Right at the turning point. Except for the money I wanna tell you somethin’. Your morality drinks beer. You’re not the captain of the ship people. You’re who we go to to take our stories off. Right here for you on your mark, get set… The restrict we have, we put it on things. We use safety to protect ourselves from safety. Actually a lot right here. We’re movin’ on. What’s your plan, bring us all to safety? That one சாவி, I’m inside a poem.
Have brain damage, that’s not really politics. It’s a funeral. Who would see The Last Tree Trunk on Earth? Critics say it’s a good movie. It’s spills bad. It was filmed inside Iran in secret trees. It’s got a wallop to it. You see freedom up close thrown out in the street and beaten on. You see it shot with knives. This is a real camera folks, and girls just want to have their scarves not choke them to death. Is anybody watching this? Can anybody care?
The Seed of the Sacred Fig was put in the wrong house. Brilliant you hear the arguments at the table theocracy speaks, but it’s shot in red and white, and we practice human nature with a murdering gun. We do not show human nature. A father and daughter are not that red apart, suddenly, unexpectedly, so the plot can aim its gun. Would a family go mad, horribly so, for a strength to resist evil that none of them felt they had? An entire lifetime together with daddy milk and a mother devoted to everyone, it lands on the freeway I will hunt you down and kill you love said.
How tall these movies are in our backyard. They bring humanity under the gun. Has human nature been robbed of its sense? It’s blow out of proportion so it can impress audiences and score award points. We see human nature sick and dying in movie after movie, and we can’t get over the villain. He is so perfect in his craft, miraculously a monster just doing the impossible. We love to hate him, and if it’s a her all the more.
They’ve confused us with what’s real. Human people don’t act like that, and these movies have us all alarmed, riding out our hate in tickets sold. What’s the point of all this mess? Make more bucks, and let’s take these artistic challenges and make them rob people wear. My God that’s a talented movie just on our disease.
Alejandro in Problemista almost makes the villain human, but then he wrote the apology. We’d have to go to Sing Sing for a good movie in emotional fare, so Shakespeare on Earth. Let’s not get too gay in National Anthem and spoil the show. We have purpose in our lives this movie knows not of. You wear a good Holocaust in A Real Pain, tryin’ to show it right, on the level of human eyes a human drama. What am I doin’? Showin’ you my movie list. I watch a lot of movies. I’m really into them. This is the way we spend human nature, in identifying roles. We get involved with a part. We identify with a character, a plot. It wears our lives in symbolic meaning. We get at the stuff.
We invest ourselves there oh so strongly. We’re raped with a bad ending. A good movie can make us feel good about ourselves and improve our lives. It can heal. It can do bad things. It can tear up our lives for a moment of all meaning. It is so very powerful, cinema. It goes directly to the starting point, where our lives came from and why. Alejandro is good at this. Amazing creativity those scenes where he’s talkin’ to someone, and it shows the whereabouts, the representative part.
Drum roll please. We are creative edges of time. We stand and sing our lives an entertainment for deep meaning. So many roles wear our lives. Can you get at the audience? Being after being, shrouded in unimaginable mystery, have a total immersion gamble with our lives. Of course we like movies. We are there.
A Rumpelstiltskin comes along and plays the keyboard, and we’re on bended ground unable to figure out destiny, but we can get back to ourselves. Audience after audience prevents us, the cliffhanger of our lives their entertainment point, but they value our lives in our bid for freedom and to discover who we are. It’s their thrill. They clap when the angels sing.
Are you crazy yet? You’re just gettin’ started. There is so much behind the scenes in the dragnet of who you are. I cannot show this to you, the person you are on high, the actor that has donned this long line of all these lives. I can only keep tryin’ in poem after poem and my symbolic life, but it’s a farce you know. I’ve really let yah down, right where you needed me, and there’s no way to make that up. When you see it’s a game, though a meaningful one, know like you know the body you wear, because you have seen it with your own eyes, that you are an actor in a cage, a player playin’ time, the first thing you do is fuck up. It’s the proud of human nature. It’s so stupid.
It prevents me from showing you who I am and who you are, unimaginably big, but that’s life, a goddamn movie that just throws you for a loop, and you can never get it right until you stop the pretendin’ and come together on yourself what you need beyond time. You’re not the audience I’m speakin’ to when I say I’m puttin’ on those shoes. Feel the thrill? A poet measure this poet smiles.
How do you chew on that poem? We grow in stadiums. A Watcher watches our lives. It’s dream big. It’s not who we are the audience in prerecorded time. This is not the first time creation mount. Great DVDs we live for their viewing pleasure. We are that Watcher you see, not the audience pang, and we can’t get over him. It’s too stadium big. It transcends time and space, but above our roofs it’s there, the hidden keeper of our lives, who we return to, the one who started it all in our little universe.
You don’t believe me I know, but you’d like to. The hidden meaning of our lives are compassionate witnesses beyond number and form. Everywhere they look they are there the meaning behind creation on this bended globe, in this starstruck universe, and they change us with a look the bearing on time. They are the Watchers behind time watchin’ the movie us them very selves in time. Can you feel them?
Your true self, they bring you home. Months of capacity open those gates, if you’re ready for them again, and you’ve been there before for a brief moment a time or two in all your many lives where afterlife grows. It's a certainty you remember. It’s a certainty you hold in your skies that you farm into your very ground I’ve planted this poem with, a vehicle of my own return one sudden afternoon before the death of me. You come up with yourself in the ultimate game of life, the ultimate paradox of life. That’s a round of applause. You hear the whole stadium sing your great escape, your victorious mile I put better in progress.
Alejandro, he did it. I’ve seen what movies list as our great surprise. Too mundane to take it where we meet beyond the universe, they give it gas and go. Are you hearin’ this?
What is the reality of love? Also whisper. Facebook items, the key story homes. Nothing else taps it. I go through generations. Hear what was going on, my falsehood— I will stop him from going into silent night, silent ground.
But the graces of life protect me, and I look over it. I’m a field study. I’m an alpha nigger, higher than perfume. I get into cars, laptops and computers, and go the distance. I recharge my phone with the very ground of being.
I am so low I see high. Humility has me by the balls. I come upon sudden mastery. I’m not about to endanger your skies, and I have the formula for world change. We can’t brag about it. It’s hard on all of us. I just sit here and die in my tin can, and then all of a sudden I’m walkin’ the moon to its orbit. I have the sun in my eyes, and I don’t blink.
I know the power of the world. I am sure God’s there. I see Him on His rounds. I am commensurate with that on the top of myself at dawn. Nowhere in my being reaches that but there. It’s a knowledge I breathe that I can’t get out of, and I’m a little man doing little things as the day wears on. I don’t pride there.
I’m never alone. My inside is full of deity. You better be careful. I’m on the standin’ line of deity watchin’ the world, because I know They’re there. We need to open up and see this in each other. We are both stations of God, you and me reader. I die there sometimes the knowledge is so heavy, immense. I just stand and take it and come back to joy before long.
I know the knowledge that made the worlds, and it tears me apart, because the power does not come to me to change one single goddamn mind, to reach out and be seen, heard, to bring my child out of trouble, to even know the wind of the day. I am a barrel of monkeys to what it takes to perk up the world, and I have seen the world from God’s eyes, in a station beyond the universe right here intimate with man, a few glory-filled seconds, long enough to know the origin of all my lives, long enough to know that I am He, long enough to look up and see more.
You would not know what I’m talking about. It’s bigger than size and measure. It’s what the worlds was made. I can’t get away from that vision now. Oh how we but little grasp our day, little doings we try to put in big pots, but I know the pot you see. Can I study you the stars? They are wonderful in magic, are the Heavens we adore, but they do not bring us to God, and it’s God on Earth wore.
Can I tell you about history? Knock, knock, God is entering every room on the planet to happen here. This is inevitability rides the sun, and the years are carrying us there, one by one, evolution’s minutes wrote. Are you startled to see this? This is not a junk call. This is the hypotenuse of time, and high and lonely seers, we grasp this with our hands and spill the beans to you.
Are you sure you’re puttin’ me on hold? I have more to tell. I’m gettin’ down to bare bones now. I’m showing you creation’s ways, and I can see the world arise right in front of me. Awesome, ain’t it?
What do we do with it? We put it in its place. We don’t let it get away from us. We know that every day can work out the formula of impossibility and solve it. I’m referrin’ to us, where we love each other and why, and how do we make that love true? It’s the danger of the years, love’s high gamble in the face of certain death. We lose each other you see, and that just kills us. We hold our loved ones we hold death. How’s that for a keeper?
What brings the salvation before we cross that gap between love and death? A spiritual consciousness that’s bigger than us, and I’m sorry there’s no other remedy. Love hurts. Enlightenment’s wings unheed pain, and we do not suffer the pain of loss.
I’m there you see, in loss looking at the spiritual consciousness. I’ve put it on a time or two, short flashes that tell me know it’s there. It’s surety that rings it, sooner or later.
Now laugh at me, slap me, ignore me; I’m on ground-field Earth liftin’ up the sky. Shoot me; I’m a real thing, a genuine who done it, made the grass match the stars. Roll the planet down, and I’ll ride it like a speaker. Yah hear me kids?
This is what’s going on, and God opens His eyes. Tryin’ to interview Pitch Thought about his character, you gotta draw the line somewhere. Ode to the line, a good friend to you, I think your security blanket, and I’m a top down answer.
I had a momentary experience. It’s all written. I had a visionary experience of every local thing on Earth realizin’ dream to catch up with God, and you had just told me look bread. Oh, I didn’t realize it was me. Anyway, look bread.
What texture is your vision?
Is it otherworldly?
Is it right there on the spot with everything?
Does it see layers?
Can it figure out God?
Do you see the reality behind reality,
see that in everything in reality?
If you only see yourself
standin’ on nothin’ but atomic molecules,
do you see anything else?
There is no beyond the universe,
nothing bigger than any conglomerate you believe in?
Do you see a beginning and an end
to the concept of forever?
Do you see the forces behind the universe
making it all happen?
Do you see yourself in that
a representative player in a chess game
with the ‘figure-it-all-out’?
Do you see meaninglessness as only existence?
Do you see the meaning of the stars?
Can you see any bigger than your little figure on earth
a humpback in immensity?
Can you see yourself in the microscope of time?
Can you see what you’re here for?
Can you see what you have to do?
Can you see the meaning of this poem?
Can you it see it plain and clear?
Can you see I’ve shown yourself beyond time?
Can you see that’s your spot in evolution,
the journey beyond anything stars made,
the journey beyond the universal envelope we’re in?
Can you see that figure here
where you’re at,
a body on earth?
You see a lot, don’t you?
Wear Light
There is an honesty here I can’t seem to capture.
There’s guttural, bold-faced reality
we don’t know how to adapt
to our meaning lives,
to our ordered square one.
We’re faced with it everyday.
We negotiate.
We stand on our head.
We dance and sing.
We don’t know what to do about it,
make it so it works
where our lives face the world.
We just stand there and gaze at it,
not knowing what to do with it.
It’s just a great big mother fucker,
too much little in our lives,
a mountain highway
that falls from grace.
It’s a little bump in the road
that threatens existence.
Now I talk to you
about what we’re doin’ here.
Can we redeem chaos?
Can we take the barrel of the Void
and fill it with God’s wine?
Can we take God’s night
and make it show the world?
Can we be what we are in knowledge
to where we are beneath ourselves?
Can we be real man?
A little piece of God
has fallen into the light.
Will it ever see again
it is God?
I heard you on the stairway hum an old familiar tune [heard sung by Bob Ayala, "Silent Witness"]
with the yoga of the world where God has been,
and we’re reachin’ there, you know?
And I’m with yah buddy.
Abdicate in Light
I seem to see myself
apart from everything,
a whole world unto myself.
I’m inside myself
watching you out there
oh world events in time.
It’s special in here.
It’s got grand in it.
It’s incredibly vast
in the fingers of my see.
I can’t make of it
the right thing to you,
the all, the everything.
Can we call that for later show?
I’m a principle list
in the summation of my see,
and I grapple with you the same.
Equal integers
on this strange planet,
we broker a see.
Incredible, isn’t it?
Is that the only way to see stars?
Can we get out of this?
I’m holdin’ it tight
in everything I do.
Can you believe me?
Oh my God I believe you.
I really, really, do.
Hear me?
We broker a universe
in the substance of ourselves.
We are so down there, you know?
We broker a universe you know.
Get my wings,
and I’m free space,
and I give all that to you.
What’s wrong with this see?
I’m not there yet,
but I’m standin’ right beside you.
Okay I’m blind.
I think you said that.
That’s time’s worth.
One of the ones that let me in,
that touched my soul,
profound mailbox.
I came homeless
year after year after year.
We’re good.
We don’t understand your concept,
the jolt in the room.
Let’s keep busy
so we don’t have to reply.
Is this license
to just take the trouble to ignore someone?
Seldom I got a reply.
The root task
and how profound it is.
It’s indeed the world.
It’s indeed larger than the universe.
I can’t carve this out for you.
I can only sing.
I don’t know the Rumpelstiltskin of your life’s work.
Your struggles are a Banyan tree to me.
See the consciousness there?
It has handles on it.
Study books and thought process,
I don’t think you’ll arrive at the explanation of the universe.
Can we hold a tree?
What do we do with time?
How do we say the world to ourselves?
Do you hear the inner speech?
It’s spoken softly in so many inner ears.
You’re readin’ it.
It’s what you hold in your hands
in an ancient text of wisdom.
Not everyone has the fire.
Not everyone can read the text right.
And we’ve come back to your story:
not everyone has the inner fire,
though they long to see the universe as it is,
though they long to be more than what they are.
Can you grasp this?
You light it that way:
the object of your romance with time
the inner fire
to see the Invisible.
I think you’ve accredited universities with this task.
I think you’ve stopped at representations.
I think you’ve stopped at outer process.
Hidden meaning.
Self-doubt see
in your own blue pen.
Who am I cooking?
Jessica Frazier
the academic.
Have a little
finger pointing in your own direction.
The TVS fixed.
It was incredibly difficult.
Why do you believe in miracles?
I’m standing one.
You hear my measurements?
The boy in the yard.
Bigger then reality
I have not made them.
For years I’ve been sending emails to scientists and academics, or I’ve commented on a tweet of theirs, usually with links to something I’ve written involving inner exploration. Less than a handful of times have I gotten a reply, and when I have it’s just to express thanks for reading them, not to engage me over the importance of such experience. This is the latest example of such an email. If you’ve been reading my latest poems, I’m trying to show where we fail as a world. Here, it was not from reasons of moral outrage, but it was one of the titanic: the best minds aren’t. It was from an ‘expert’, i.e., a person influencing world opinion on an official level, in this case a person assigning meaning to the world, not listening to someone trying to get their attention, someone who just might have something valuable to add to the conversation. Click on the link at the end of the email, read the article, and tell me that’s just not possible.
[Subject of email] “Communicating with someone, and learning what they have to teach us…
learning to adapt our view to the information they give.” From your YouTube video Gadamer. Hello, I’ve just read your article in Psyche“Ancient Indian texts reveal the liberating power of metaphysics”. I’d like to get to the heart of the matter as quickly as possible please. “We can do something extraordinary: our mental parts can climb out of the window of the body, and up into the higher levels of reality.” What a wonderful statement worded so well, but are you speaking literally of actual hands on spiritual experience, or are you talking about using your imagination and having high thoughts? I think it’s the latter, and it’s precisely here your article doesn’t capture truth, that being what’s actually going on or has. “I might live in 2022 in Oxford, but I can share the experiences of persons in Thailand or the US, and imagine different lives I might have lived. With the help of scientists and philosophers, I understand levels of the cosmos that lie beyond the senses, and can access realities, values or ideas that cannot be destroyed with any mere physical body.” What it seems not only you are missing, but also the scientific establishment and the humanities, as university teaches them, is that it’s possible to have the experiences that the mystics (or metaphysicians describe). They are not only basing their ideas on the use of their imagination or on their thoughts. Many if not most are basing them on firsthand experience. Furthermore, though beyond this email, the authors of the Upanishads and the Vedas did not compose their writings but heard them via the inner voice. Do you know the meaning of Agni in this context? In other words, the texts came whole and ready made from their inner vision, one or a few lines at a time, and they wrote them down, something not possible unless you’ve had the experiences the texts they wrote describe, what would open a Rishi or seer to such inner vision.
Although I can give ample examples of the latter, the inner voice writing one’s seer-poetry (you can look that up if you want), I will only give an example of the heart of the matter of the email. It would be quite something if you even read it. There’s just so much vying for our attention, and something from out of the blue and from someone unknown, well, that’s usually what automatically gets sacrificed to the expediency of time:
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.
Gentlemen of the jury,
how do you find the defendant?
We find the defendant
not guilty.
They stay in formations,
his electric.
Come tomorrow,
humanity takes a picture of these.
How do you say avatar?
Oh my God it’s God on earth
dressing up in human.
And a God takes form as human yes
in the cycles of the Earth,
but let’s go beyond the universe,
where cosmic Gods are not.
We can get higher.
Let’s go to who’s manifesting this show,
and here you are an avatar.
You are That you see.
It’s the greatest football notion.
It’s Excalibur.
It’s right here in my poem.
I’ve arrived on land.
It thinks in your thoughts,
but it’s not you thinking.
There’s a rift in my understanding.
This is a riddle with a master clue.
Just get information.
No one has the drawing gun.
That would be interesting,
knowing who we were.
It would revolutionize science.
It would be the biggest thing on earth.
It goes without saying it’s commentary
this rap.
I’m larger than science.
I can’t figure out who I am.
And science ensues.
It goes on and on and on and on
and gets trapped in the original question:
that’s not a real question.
It sees no representative show on earth.
It digs around in the dirt for nothing at all
and can’t get out of itself.
Let’s show this around:
nobody’s lookin’
at we might be part of a larger process
than everything in front I see.
You get the picture?
There’s a larger you looking at you through you,
and the world is a symbol for us to see that.
That’s why it all matters.
You’re getting bigger you see
and bigger and bigger.
All you have to do is evolve.
There's more along this show.
That’s an evolutionary wear an I,
the idea of the human take.
I have founded a world for you,
given you the idea supreme,
shown you an idea of Supermind,
an idea among us.
Where is your identity wrought,
in your home or office,
nation or religion,
in your people?
Take off those identities
as your crowning achievement.
You’re being so little you see.
Now let’s go to war.
Throw morality into the frying pan.
It is yet an uncooked idea.
You think it’s why we’re here
so outraged at other people’s behavior.
Okay take off your mask.
That’s you under there,
the one doin’ wrong.
This is knowledge by identity,
the healing of wrongdoing in this world.
Oneness garden,
that’s oneness who we are.
That’s the station of Superself,
and we get bigger all the time.
Do you see yourself?
Do you even know you’re there,
where you can’t see yourself?
Take this on the road,
the larger than you you are,
a thought and feeling overlay
to get you to look up.
It changes lives.
It’s the antidote to our sin.
It gives self-righteousness a big punch in the nose.
It sure is generous with everyone.
It heals our land.
It's higher than religion.
It’s not a God to worship or a song to sing.
It’s the hard work of bein’ human who you are.
Unveil the avatar.
Understand the science?
Put it on every thought and deed
you encounter in the world,
and show it to yourself
in everything you do,
and there you are,
evolving.
It’s evolutionary, ain’t it?
Tearin’ outside the universe.
This is GoPro.
It’s not in your imaginary land.
We found the universe.
It’s so much bigger than bubbles
and moviemaking exactitude.
Oh my God the horror,
you think this rules,
in your image vocabulary,
absolutely mixed and purposeless,
so rich it scorches yah.
They don’t dream of bigger universes,
the people that propose media to us today.
Movie making madness
flavors humanity as its riding helm
traveling like features to nowhere.
Acceptance of the inane is the big game:
wow, that’s fantastic.
Nuts and fools
can’t stomach this game.
You’re an asshole.
I am,
the person pulling meaning out of nothing.
I use clairvoyance
to understand things are constantly changing.
I am the person putting meaning in all this.
We’re gonna surprise out of here,
once we understand there’s bigger than man’s wrought,
and consciousness goes in dimensions.
Once we understand our galaxy flight plan,
we’re gonna meaning out of here,
to the left and to the right,
to the up and to the down.
Narrow sense,
I can’t event talk about
what it means to blow past this bubble.
It looks like scrambled eggs,
the next big round of applause,
our getting bigger than where our acts put us—
beyond the machine.
We want that in front,
the next big step in front.
I’m sorry to disappoint you.
It’s beautiful.
It has the glory of who we are,
that has put little stamps of itself in this universe.
Do you see sir,
do you see?
So many universes,
they come down from Supermind.
They are visionary spectacles.
If I remember right,
Supermind is not the last field of the day.
It’s a big pitch of summer wear
from ever larger realities.
No beginning and no end,
got it?
Your head’s stuck in the multiverse,
where there are not different versions of you.
There’s whole other bases for universes
that we can even describe
so much different than elements are they.
Okay I’m the chemist,
and I’ve profound you a little bit.
Why limit yourself to just one concept?
Live in the sky, will yah?
d a g
It’s been a long time,
a
long, long, long time,
g a d g
everything that’s sung and in one line.
d a g
Work up slowly your way to it.
d g a
And the folk song’s driftin’ on a better day.
d a g
The folk song’s liftin’ on a inner ray:
d g a g d
the many splendors of beauty’s reign.
g a d g
Here the heart wants to share
g a d
snow covered music for my kind,
g a d
on the wings of the time, on the wings of a dove, on the wings of love.
a g
So many changes for my kind,
a d
everything to do with the divine,
a g
everything that’s true,
d a g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d a g d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.
Verse 2
d a g
Let go,
a
let, let, let go.
g a d g
Land wide release.
d a g
You are llamada up above. (Spanish, pronounced ‘yamada’)
d g a
And the folk song’s driftin’ on a better day.
d a g
The folk song’s liftin’ on a inner ray:
d g a g d
the many splendors of beauty’s reign.
g a d g
Here the heart wants to share
g a d
snow covered music for my kind,
g a d
on the wings of the time, on the wings of a dove, on the wings of love.
a g
So many changes for my kind,
a d
everything to do with the divine,
a g
everything that’s true,
d a g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d a g d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.
Verse 3
d a g
A time of change,
a
change, change, change, change,
g a d g
when the world pipe knows only one thing.
d a g
You have to know it very well.
d g a
And the folk song is tempted by an adverse fate.
d a g
The folk song is driftin’ wrong on the Titan’s urge.
d g a g d
He saw my sun, moon, and stars.
g a d g
Put all change back.
g a d
But in the play there’s a process aware of,
d g a d
Look out of the psychic being’s urge.
a g
And that weakness was no longer,
a d
and that weakness was no longer.
a g
It shattered not
d a g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d a g d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.
Ending
D A G
This is from the sun (3xs):
g a d g
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign,
d a g d
beauty’s ray, beauty’s role, beauty’s reign.
Harm's End 