A Belief in a Miracle

photo by the author

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:

The Spoiler
What’s bigger than the universe? Hang on, What’s bigger than everything?

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.

Ego Activism

It’s everybody, not just you seein’ this kid, art, representational. Photo by Donny

Launch of Will
In this system
show you guys how to do it.
What is office in the film?
That’s ego activism.
I’ve had enough.
Are you sure you’re sorry?
You’ve said it.
And we hear from the crowd.
They see me in my underwear.
Sing hallelujah to the Lord. [heard sung, song “Sing Hallelujah”]
What do I do with Joseph?
Isn’t that
my own enigma?
Help makes it
vocally present.
Go 900.
The heaviest place on earth,
you go in it,
a chest of healing.
I got ears.

Ego activism (the short list)— dynamic social action using one’s creativity to undermine the dominance of the human ego in the world, one’s own ego as well as the ego in general. It has the aim to quicken human evolution out of this ego stage of identity. It recognizes the primacy of the ego as the root of the problems in the human condition, and while it may address individual problems, such as climate change, sexual assault, mass murder, and racism, to name pressing ones today, it sees the solution in not giving primacy to the ego but to a more integral and unified human identity based on oneness, on the part of everybody, not just the people manifesting this wrong or that, their own ego being the primary ego the activist aims to surpass.

It does not point the finger at the behavior of others without three fingers pointing back at the activist, and when it does point the finger, it does so with compassion and understanding, for one’s self as well the ones being pointed out, keeping out of its attitude self-righteousness, judging, blaming, anger, hatred, and violence. It engages people with sincerity, vulnerability, beauty, and a knowledge of truth, truth not being any religious formula but what’s actually going on. While it’s never mean, it is frank and honest, is not afraid to speak its piece or call a spade a spade, and while pacifism is its preferred mode of action, it’s not adverse to the activist physically defending themselves and others if the genuine need arises.

Self-sacrifice, however, is a major characteristic of ego activism, not however, the kind that surrenders to the condemnation and punishment of the world, which would be surrendering to the ego and its methods, but the kind whereby the activist is willing to put themselves at great risk in conducting the action, not foolish, impulsive risk that has harm to the activist or death as its probable or certain outcome, but wise, calculated risk that has both the needs of the activist and the world at heart and in harmony whatever the outcome.

Can We Find Forgiveness?

Ravena, Auroville, photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

This is like fire.
This is electricity,
horses, I don’t know.
Take the sound off.
You have a pay by go guide,
a living tree.
What do I do with it?
It’s not of public interest.
You hear me?

Magical,
it broadcasts the sun.
I just sit here and read it.
It’s got lives in it.
It’ll tell you anything you need to know.
So much to hear.

I’m not fond of it
where poems are concerned.
It’s like a tunnel I have to go through.
It’s got me until the end.
Can you say it?

Let’s twist the words around I’m sorry,
can you meaning?
No, it’s not a broken muse.
I’m godawful sorry
for things.
I don’t know how to show this to you.
Do I take my hat off?

I think about you a lot,
where feeling meets life.
I don’t drag my wrong through my mind at every moment.
I think about how you feel.
I put myself in your shoes.
Remorse has this as a gun.
Repentance means these words
and a lifetime of service to humanity.

I gut feeling this.
I’m racked by your pain,
sit at my computer and cry
when I encounter it,
or in my mind’s eye when I rove around the world.
Your loss rents my breast,
the pain of the tortured child,
the destroyed city,
the puppy dog that’s lost its owner,
the man that’s done something wrong,
terribly hurt somebody.
I want to gather you all up in my arms
a power of God to heal,
but I have not God’s strength,
and I can only feel my inadequacies to help.

Let me tell you my strategy.
I have a world
in front of my face,
all these people I care for,
tend to when they’re sick,
encourage them when they’re down,
counsel them when they need,
cook for them when they’re hungry,
shop for them when they need things,
carry their dreams in my heart
to help give some interpretation.

I listen to them.
I hold their hands.
Half of them are dogs.
A puppy is to me a human child,
and I spend all day with one,
giving her that special attention,
and with a human child,
giving that concentrated care.
It’s how I take care of you.
When I look in their little eyes I see all the world.

Can you feel me here?
I am a servant of mankind.
I am my brother’s keeper,
and I love you so very much.
Have you heard me?

Forgiveness is a model
for the road to understanding.
It’s not something you do
like a magic out of thin air.
We know not yet the issue of our deeds.
We cannot see their fount.
We have a whole ride to do that,
a great big storybook to learn.
It takes inner searching
to a degree most are uncomfortable with.

Understanding comes that way,
in the middle of forgiveness.
Can we learn forgiveness?
Can we bring peace on earth?

In Everything You Do

photo by Nitish

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

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?