That’s why what I can get on the television is behind your imagination,/
you’re too fat.
What’s that?
It’s a soft glow.
You’re wrapped around the axle of society
eating everything you can get your hands on,
entertainment spook outs,
song after song after song,
the news minute,
and bubbles and bubbles of internet stuff,
and books that make you mean.

You can’t get away from society
in your newspaper.
What’s that supposed to mean?
You suck society’s dick
a porn hub.
I’ve just offended half the nation.
The other half’s asleep.
Why can’t I suck dick on television?

I’m using figures of speech
to show our involvement with society.
I just got censored out of society,
but can I employ you in your mule,
weave together a story
using pockets of molten lava?
I’m tryin’ to get yah riled up.
I want to show you you’re pasted by society.

Would Sri Aurobindo say that?
I think he would allow inspiration to come
and not worry about sensibilities.
He would not future poetry
to make it stand a language model
that forgets our garbage stuff.
He would future poetry.

I want you offended.
I want to show you what you’re made of.
That’s not squeaky clean.
It’s all over the place.
If I took you into the Silence,
you would want to come back.
You do not know the spiritual consciousness.
You think it’s a morality speaker,
a set of rules you follow to get there.

A whole other world
arrives when spirituality arrives.
I don’t think you saw that yet.
You’re a radical revolutionary
if you’ve taken off ego a moment.
I have never been there permanently,
so I can’t say there.
Did you think Sri Aurobindo was like your local priest?

I want you to examine yourself
in the light of society.
It’s mean it sucks,
and it will throw you to the wolves
if you just can’t make it fit right,
your will with what society says no.
Say you molest children—
I’m going to marry a millionaire.
Oh my God you’ve processed God,
and you no longer molest children.

You can love a child now like it’s God lookin’ at yah,
and you love that child.
The formula’s in the Bhagavad Gita;
you just don’t hear it,
or you think it can’t be done.
Fuck a child,
and society will never let you in again.
I’m boilin’ your paper right now.
I wanna show you how small you are
when it comes to the big stuff.
You just morally react.

You don’t know how to do it,
heal a person from society’s ways.
It’s society that fucks children;
I guarantee it.
What’s the softball today?
We learn to love each other,
even those you hate.
If I can’t accomplish love,
I can at least accomplish understanding.
That mother beats my child,
and she’s raped him from me.
I could take a stick and beat her myself,
but that would just make her meaner.
I understand her jealousy
and her lack of control.
I just sit with it.

I’m rescuin’ my boy.
You hear it done
special in our media.
I’m gonna see him safe,
and I’m gonna bring him back to papa.
That’s my name on his lips.
He calls me daddy.
We have a room for him
in a whole new place.
This is spiritual journey,
in the air of spiritual journey,
where that boy’s no longer in Pondicherry,
so that boy’s ocean will work.
Grab you guys
in a manner of minutes,
and anyway,
I’m makin’ sure the roads are prepared for him.

I was gonna give this poem to who would’ve thought it,
but for now let it sit on this Facebook page.
Those of us who would change society
have to live under its auspices.
Society would rather kill than change.
It’s acquired a life of its own
apart from the individual.
It’s got great steed on it,
but we’ve reached the end of its present rope with us.
The world will be destroyed before society changes;
I mean it’s bragged about that,
if you can hear the writing on the wall.

How do I know all this?
I’ve been from one end of society to the other,
from the mountain to the monster,
and I’ve grown bigger than society
makin’ that monster
climb to the mountaintop
and seein’ God from there.
The monster changes his panties
and grabs society by the horns
so that society can see itself
for the monster that it is.
I’m no more monster.

Can you ride with me?
I have some beef to show you.
Holy cow,
let somebody eat beef,
if they’re just tired of the same old fare,
what doesn’t take you rocket launch,
what keeps you in the bounds of society,
what goes no deeper than a three dimensional world
bound to love its aunties
and the open vigilante.

Am I chargin’ wool?
Hey man, are you mediocracy?
I sucked the wrong dick.
You are basically a big person.
A big person,
you are God unawares;
you are the look of the Lord
when He forgets Himself.
Let’s all dance to this tune:
hey God, wake up.

See yah on Sunday,
on Saturday,
in your religious house of worship.
It just kills the kids doesn’t it?
They know there’s more to God than that.
They know there’s Everlasting,
but you’ll just slap them around
if you find out
this thing has to do with naked and
not with their school books.

I’ve been the danger a kid faces at midnight,
and my God watch it grow,
their Shazam.
They know there’s more than little TV,
and I’m not talkin’ about the sex stuff.
They know they can get beyond this movie,
that God is bigger than Her lists,
and don’t just stand there;
do somethin’.

It’s put up here hangover
on that third eye.
You’re just gonna have to get your shit together.
I’m compound joy.
There is actually a petting session over here.
Nithish called.
Everything’s fine.
I will see my little boy soon.

We’re all at a movie.
It’s packed.
Saw the hall were you there?
Every divine minute
the time it took to free me.
No,
you were there willingly and cooperatively,
and you woke up with a bang;
it hurt too much,
just like the Buddha said.
We just don’t put illusion on everything,
because God’s there
the hunt.

Wanna see?
See past your nose
blockade.
Make you feel the situation,
make you feel the heartbeat,
make you get out of yourself,
river find out
the apocalypse,
if you don’t hum the right tune.
That’s in our field today.

See that little boy?
He’s weathered the storm.
I’m not just gonna leave ‘im there.
I’m gonna bring ‘im home.
I’m gonna open up
where God dwells.
Wanna see me do it?
I know how.

Alright people, listen up.
The Earth song,
do you just cram society?
These are open bars.

Come on Grace,
let’s go pee pee.
We can’t send her out alone.
That little Beagle’s still a puppy.
I gave ‘er
more than the rat race.
Come on let’s go
to your human, darling,
and I took myself to divinity.
You comin’?

Society rose,
what’s the historia?
It’s wide open,
every means to God to get there,
even through the snake.
You just stop biting people,
even through the murderer and rapist.
Now that I can put this in literal terms,
so can your doctor.
I be doc.

Listen up,
let’s start from the beginning.
Dicks out.
No, you don’t go out.
The boy’s offended by the balls.
That boy’s offended by the power
of some certain dirty thing
even mentioned in a poem.
Take it off the neck.
No, I don’t wanna get yah to do it.
Can’t heal it ‘less you hear it,
and that’s in the meat grinder,
a poem so everybody can get off,
a poem so everybody heals
from this disaster
we propagate as society.

That boy got offended,
that readership.
I won’t say fuck you God no.
I’ll see yah when you’re open again,
after death,
or this poem will.
It’s got strings on it
that pull you along
where this poet meets the world.

There’s a response.
There’s a regular response.
Can you feel it?
It’s on the way home.
You’re bigger than mountains,
and you don’t have to be bothered by anyone
or what they say.
This is a test of your truth speaker.
Can you get past this test?
All we are saying is give peace a chance.
[above line heard sung by Plastic Ono Band]
Truth can be known that doesn’t betray yah.
Get back in there
tenderfoot.
I think my muse is talking to me.
Goddamn,
there’s just no end to the beginning.

This poem was written for the Facebook page Teachings of Mother and Sri Aurobindo – Discussion forum, but I’ve tried to post it twice, and each time it’s been deleted automatically upon posting, and so I submitted it to a member of that group called Renaissance, an arm of the Sri Aurobindo Society that is doing a feature on the purpose of art. In their series, there’s an essay by Nolini Kanta Gupta, arguably Sri Aurobino’s main disciple. Ignore the introduction by the Renaissance team and just skip to the essay: “The Obscene and the Ugly – Form and Essence“. It will add flavor and standing to my poem in the light of the the Integral Yoga.