He just wants the people he love to be fair to. (vision of Nithish standing in the forest at a microphone stand and speaking into the mic) Life is a very changed little boy. He’s not gonna control. Will see everything eight thousand, which means he doesn’t see it as himself.
You gotta take the phone out of his hands and let him listen to you. You got a therapy. You can help it. In the interest of therapy you will go. Okay then, a PowerPoint presentation, you spend the night with me in the phone.
He had just been through a hard time for any conversation at all with him. I let him throw the other people in jail. A file said that. Boy’s not gonna go crazy and do anything rough to his daddy.
Just bury your head and see now’s not a good time. I vintage. We’re tired. It’s been my dream to have a mountain visit with daddy. I can’t get up.
They don’t go. They don’t leave him out. They guard him all the time. It’s impossible to see him wherever they visit. I can’t hear a car.
Did you make yourself useful? Not yet. See you soon Nithish. Goin’ to Kuru you’re not fondu, over? I don’t think so. I stay away from that plan.
Why is the son not supporting seeing me? What is that? (two visions of ugly, insane pictures of some horrible place) Hell my mother makes me imagine, my mother messages me. There is a want to see you gotten in.
Could not believe it, we are right where we see each other weird, but I belong to him. In a child’s mind three and a half months is a long time not bein’ with his daddy. He forgets the report. He forgets the love and attention.
Christ look ahead. Don’t overlook your eves. Does it take all day? I’m with you so much right now, watch your glow. (vision of Ramya, a young woman I’m a daddy to. She’s looking at me and smiling) You give everybody kindness. Give me your love and support.
On Monday the child never woke back. Come here. I told him tomorrow’s thinking about that does not measure our true love. Have a good day. I love you.
Go into the Earth tower, I have to maintain. I cannot see Nithish and that kills me. I watch his moods change from day to day. I’m inside his consciousness you see. He toys with me like a rabbit and then just puts me down and forgets about me for a while.
We achieved union together, and this is the price I pay for it. A child does not know your worth. They only see themselves. I can’t take this child anymore. I carry his pain all day. He just wants to be happy and forget about me. I’m too much trouble for him right now.
What evil is this a mother does to her child? No one questions the mother’s insanity to forbid any contact whatsoever, when she herself will admit I was good to the boy and did not abuse him.
This is killing his character, but this is India, and we don’t protect our children, and we do not know the damage the heart can do to a child that’s been made to kill his love for one of his parents. This boy will not be kind.
I can only sit here and watch it all and cry. I so want to help my boy. I am with him every minute of every day, and the sleepless nights just tear me apart, and it’s all I can do to maintain, and I must maintain.
Do you consider me? I’m a value in consciousness, and the same you hear from me I opened up in this boy, but that has been killed too, and no one seems to mind.
I love you Nithish, and I will not give up on you, and I understand your pain and your need to be a boy. I am a parent and I can take sacrifice. I just wish you could see me as I am and not in the stench of gaslight you mother has put you through.
It’s inevitable that one day you will. A demon can only hold the field for so long before the divine forces prevail. Do you see me Nithish? I am here, and I’m not going anywhere.
I am Nithish a growing poet. I will write for the world and me, and I will take big steps anywhere, anytime. I am opening (muse) my marker a bag with development. If the bag doesn’t get bigger I will fly away.
Oh I am high on poetry. Get me a ride home. Hey god, how tall are you? Ha h aha I’m going to my job.
2nd Part
Exchange the world for some divine, and my marker call the muse. Will you listen to the paper it’s right. Why are the poets here for?
I have started my journey. I feel like I wanna be dead. But why? Someone have to stop this school before kids die.
I need help please stop these dictators. Kids need power too if kids to live in this world in peace. I ask myself God please help me. Forsake have you?
It takes a power in India. I let me talk of light/God I to the world. I will be in heaven if I am able to be in peace.
I have started my journey. I am gonna see my old mind, and I am gonna write till I see no more. I seen God. I need way to escape from reality. Have they heard God or have they saw a kid talk to God? Well I have a spark of power now.
I am in sea with sea monsters. His eye was bigger than my head. I feel ashamed of myself.
Chapter 2
I have started my journey. Am I really pissed off? I ask you that or do I ask me that maybe? I should ask the world.
I shall be born again in my mind. Please look me in the eye and talk to me. They shot my head off, threw me in fire, stabbed me.
I can only hear the light, but can you go? I am stuck as one. I am three, but people only see one and judge me looking at my face.
I tell them judge me after looking in my inner soul. Are we kids gonna die without living life a little? I am very strong my muse. I have to protect the light from another somebody from stealing it.
I always say goodnight, sweet dreams, but who’s there to that for me? God help I am homeless. I have opened my pen to write me.
This poem is a prevision of the future. Nithish wrote it from spiritual vision some months before the horrible situation he’s describing happened to him, when he was taken from my home by his mother, where he lived during the week, visiting his parents on the weekends. That is the journey he started. They did bad things to him, but the worst has been what they have done to his heart by doing Nazi-like things to him to kill his love for me and keep him from having contact of any kind with me, although for the first two months he called me in secret telling me of the abuse, and of course we have inner contact in spiritual vision, or I do; this also has been killed in him by his parents in their attempts to kill his love for me. He doesn’t write poetry anymore, no longer hears his muse.
I need to mention that school for Nithish was the worst thing in the world. He’s been badly abused for his dyslexia in school, both physically and emotionally, and his parents would never allow me to get him tested for the learning disability. But in this poem, school represents where he gets his life lessons, and that takes place at home too. The muse, the inner voice of poetry, uses the symbols that you know, and, if you have some preconceived idea, it won’t override it but use that in the place of what would more represent the truth. That’s going on here with his use of the word school to describe what is going on in his home with his parents.
He was not just slip in two, having to have one face to his parents and another to me, but there was the Nithish alone to himself he had to try and honor also, and so when he’s speaking of being three people, not just one, that’s what he’s talking about. Since the source of his abuse came from his parents punishing him for continuing to love me and wanting to see me, not to mention betraying their bedroom sins to me, he became completely silent about me with anyone he didn’t trust, did not even mention my name, let alone say want to see me.
On the phone he told me that he had to do that because they were treating him very badly, like he was poison, because he had caused all this trouble for his family and brought shame on it, and so, he told me, he had put on a fake smile, but he was really sad inside. So he was one person to his family and another to me, and still another to himself. I cannot tell you what this does to a child, especially one that is right this very second beginning the body changes into adolescence. Mental illness of some sort will ensue at some point. I believe the boy will become a psychopath like his father, who has murdered four men in cold blood for his gang.
Nithiish has now decided he’s finished with me, to honor his parents, and he did that over them buying him a tab so he could play his video games and surf the net. He got that tab by promising his parents that he wouldn’t contact me through it, and he knows that he can do things to contact me without his parents even knowing, which means he’s not contacting me out of fear of his parents finding out; he not doing so because he would disobey his parents. That in itself is enough to do serious damage to a boy’s heart, but he’s done this in the face of a hunger strike I had just told him I was gong to do, so to see him and to help him.
So, getting that toy is more important than me living, a man that was there the day he was born, doing the Saturday thing with him from the time he was one, beginning to babysit him when he was three, becoming a parent of his starting when he was six, and by the time he was seven, he spent more time with me than his parents, living with me at the lake for the last year and some months before he was taken from there by his mother.
When he called me in secret during those first two months, he wanted me to bring someone in to question him, away from his mother, about the abuse he was suffering from by his parents, particularly from her, and I did everything I could to get someone to that house to question him away from his mother. That never happened, despite even Child Help going to the house; they only spoke to his mother, did not follow protocol and talk to the child away from his parents. Police questioned him about me abusing him and his mother, and he said no on both counts, and she was sitting right next to him, and the cops had said that they’d question him away from his mother in another room. He called me and told me about it afterwards.
The final straw came when I told him I had a new advocate, and he called me soon after I told him that, saying he had a plan. He wanted to speak to him alone, and he wanted the advocate to get him talking by asking him about the incident when his mother beat him with a flat, wooden board for saying he wanted to see. He said to start with that question, and he would take it from there.
The night before the meeting we spoke about the meeting on the phone. I just warned him that when he saw me, come and give me a hug, and not to let his mother prevent him from greeting me. She not only did that, she kept him behind her back and put her hand over his face so he couldn’t see me. This changed everything, and the boy began crying, and I was distraught. They went into the office, and I could hear Nithish crying loudly. Finally I was called in, and there was to be no meeting with alone with Nithish. The mother would not allow that.
So I tried to talk to Nithish, but he could not speak. I was very upset by this time and just began asking him what he’d told me he wanted be asked the night before, in our phone conversation. At the question of his mother beating him with board, he managed a weak yes and shook his head yes, keeping his head down, and when I asked him if his mother was abusing him, he answered the same way. By this time his mother, knowing he was telling on her, stood up to take him out of the office, and I tried to prevent that by asking that family welfare be called. I was physically held while she left with the boy. He never called me again after that, which was three weeks ago.
But I had promised him I would help him, and so to do a hunger strike was my last resort, the only power it seemed I had left to use. I will not use it now. The boy is too far gone. All this trauma has changed him, brought the worst of him to the front, and now his tab is more important than my life, and we have so many years together, so many memories, as much as he has with his biological parents, and he is able keep himself from feeling that in order to get some toy, and that toy makes him happy. His parents do not realize what they have done. They have not only killed his love for me, but they’ve killed his love for humanity. The poem above shows you how they did that.
I have the flower in my head. I just want to get it in the light. Can I just be in my life? Can I just get my life back?
I am running to the light again. Pull me up so I can join you. For next level it’s coming up.
I am crying I need sleep. They call me poison. That’s not my name I am Nithish. Why do you care will show my name to the world going down the road?
Ha! can you see that coming? That’s the new world formed. Pass it can you hear me out? Let me get back home. I am very loud if you know— your smartass come from the divine.
I am blinded from the light. Is that it that’s the start of the border? Wanna go beyond? Let’s go to the spark of soul that’s a frost fire running out of school. Run with me hear the bird. Run with me for good.
They judge me by any downfall. Well see my poem from God. Have you met my birds? To the surface we can go to New York, get the jet ski fly away from ground.
If you have been reading these posts of Nithish’s poetry, then you know he’s writing this from spiritual vision, meaning he’s not making it up; it’s spoken into his inner ear and he writes it down. This a poem he wrote while at school some months before he was taken from his home at the lake. In one fell swoop he lost his whole life, me, Douglas, his dogs, his own room, his new computer, the farm, the lake, all of it, and he has not been allowed to return or visit me since, anywhere, call me on the phone, have anyone give him message of me, or view his YouTube channel. Read the last post to see why his parents have done this, and you will suspect, as I do, that they have abuse they are hiding, and they know the boy will tell me if he sees me alone long enough, and they are preventing that.
I don’t think I need to interpret this poem line by line. It’s obvious what he’s talking about, but what’s extraordinary about it, miraculous, is that he wrote this months before the he would be in the situation he’s speaking about, so his future self could read it and understand what is going on. His ‘wokeness’ to his situation comes and goes, more goes than comes actually, if my spiritual vision of him is correct, and I do not know if he is reading my Facebook page or not, but I do know that he has sold me out for a tab, promised his parents he wouldn’t contact me, wouldn’t even look at his own stuff he wrote while he was with me, this and I told him that I was about to do a hunger strike to make good on my promise to protect him. He loves his new toy more than even trying to prevent my death. That sure does make me think, and the purpose of his poetry, why he wrote it to his future self, was to make him think. I do not understand spiritual process, all this miracle just to go to the garbage can of his mind, be deleted.
A world identity I’m not trying to house.
I had a kid.
He comes first.
Judging by all the times,
it’s eleven o’clock.
This consciousness I don’t know how long it was on fortunately. [vision accompanying the line of a knob on our four burner stove left on, the one for the big burner, but there was no smell of gas, and I turned it off before I lit the stove so there was no danger]
It’s good daddy.
Buy 21’s daddy.
We got another line in we.
In the soul of uncertainty
author’s special. [sound vision of an author reading their work in the background as this line was spoken]
Believe it or not I can help.
Title at risk,
it’s here we listen.
I have the lightning,
support at its most real.
No cause for alarm.
What did you do?
I put it all in perspective.
Beavis and Butt-Head,
who hear the need for soul expression in human life?
It’s time for us.
I’m goin’ on a walk.
That’s right Beavis and Butt-Head
hit on me.
Oh my God.
Let’s just slap them for it.
Oh my goodness the trouble I could get into here
if I don’t say punishment,
if I don’t validate the spirit of the times,
but you can’t call that good
throwin’ the book at them,
hating their very names,
because they try to get you to have sex.
I know, I know, it’s rude.
It’s awful,
but you are not harmed by it,
even if they grab your crotch,
or pinch your boobs,
not actually physically harmed.
You’re made to feel harmed
by a zeitgeist hellbent on revenge.
Now it’s even if they grab their own crotch,
or celebrate victory with a kiss,
and you’re there
the one they kiss.
There’s eight billion of us and crowding.
Now how do you say we’ll survive?
You just think morality straights.
You’re not aware of the master plan.
I’m not talkin’ gross doodle with your noodle
in the snot rag of life
right there in front of everybody.
I’m not takin’ clean shaven either.
We give time for the vital to express itself,
and teenagers need this stuff,
and so do kids.
Can you tell me what’s wrong with seein’ a dick in public?
I’m not talkin’ hard-on sneeze,
just a dick,
or a vagina for everybody to see.
I’m not talkin’ all wet and sloppy.
I’m human.
Okay sex in front of a child,
here you’d shoot me if I said yes,
but is sex really the wrong thing?
Touch it handle it do it clean.
No not theirs you idiot,
hands off.
I'm talkin' sex and kids.
No I’m not talkin’ stick your dick in children,
or you wrap your pussy around them,
or you beat off,
finger yourself,
to their measure.
Your adult thing is not involved
at all.
Can we watch mommy and daddy do it?
Oh my goodness the people that have passed by here
in the history of our children.
Who’s ready for that?
What parent can truly say they are uninvolved
in their children’s genital's feeling's lives?
You feel something there I’m sorry.
Pop your wad in front of them and you’ll feel it.
I’m tellin’ you don't do that.
For now let’s just leave that alone,
as parents are doing it all over the globe
in front of their children.
Oh my God they join in,
eventually.
Let’s just stay clean here.
What we want is a child right on sex,
feel good about their genitals,
not embarrassed to have them.
Even if they stand that’s okay,
or get damp and moist.
It doesn’t have to be private,
but it needs to be no fishy underwear,
not for an adult’s enjoyment.
Kids need to be kids, okay?
They touch each other.
They drool.
They wanna see adults do it.
Okay two people love each other in front of the camera.
It's remote.
It’s not right there in front of them.
It’s not exaggerated.
It’s not rough stuff.
It’s soft and warm and moist.
It’s visible it’s good to look at.
You do it.
I think a mouth said that,
or a hand giving the right stroke.
Let the kids see this
naked with each other?
On soft comfortable floors,
the lights down low,
no one looking in,
except the adult close by to monitor.
It’s not a permission list.
No one’s told to do it.
They just watch and let themselves be themselves.
Okay Johnny,
would if Suzie says no?
It’s not at all girls?
Of course it’s girls.
Suzie Johnny doesn’t wanna striptease with you.
Oh.
All the classroom beforehand:
take the stinger out,
she’s your husband.
Ice cream and comfort,
in that place,
and this is a hairless society,
so no pregnancies or forced penetrations,
and penetration is a warm dummy.
I don't think they actually get it in.
You mean this is a seven-year-old?
The age of reason and above.
No black eyes please.
Everybody’s nice to each other.
You wanna save society?
Let it happen.
Are you trippin'?
I'm tryin' to tell you how to handle sex
before it's too late.
They get old they forget
it's a game.
They just wanna eat.
They cum on each other.
They need to know it's fun.
They need to know it's clean.
Now let's get back to school books.
We go back to the lab.
A naked child is fine
in a swimming pool.
A child can pee in public.
Their hand down their pants no problem.
If they expose themselves you smile.
Johnny's got a problem.
He's just into his wiener.
Well let's get busy with 'im.
Give 'im some boys to play with
his age,
and they can let their penis mingle.
That boy just needs an outlet,
that's all.
We look for problems
and look to see what's up.
Suzie's fingering herself,
because some man is.
I'm sorry Suzie.
We wasn't watchin'.
Now we are.
You need some kid fun,
and we make sure you get it.
He masturbates in class.
Okay Billy,
put your willy away.
Obviously this is not the time for it.
I haven't reached adolescence yet.
I'm not there yet.
I'm the older child.
I'll get better at this
as I grow older.
Yes society you will.
Too blind
this afternoon
to understand the science behind this.
You're just afraid of sex.
Grab your crotch he’s wrong.
Maybe he’s just horny
and don’t know how to handle it,
because his penis got shoved in his shorts all his life,
given no means to express itself.
Maybe his mother doodled with it,
or his auntie,
and then bottled it up
when he got old enough to notice.
You’re just a crap game, huh?
Do we have to sell this?
It’s got to be made public,
the genital hand wash.
Okay these are kids from seven to eleven,
or six to fourteen.
We see when reason hits
and adolescence starts.
That’s the time of your life,
when you’re a kid and you know it,
and it’s all fun and games.
Get out of here you rule book!
We don’t want to squash the soul.
We just wanna let it be free
to touchdown in life,
to get all the way to the goalposts
of being human.
That’s not 1, 2, 3.
It involves sex
and learning about sex.
Am I stupid?
I’m a brahmachari.
My eleven-year-old knows that,
that naked little fella
in the privacy of our home,
and he’s safe there.
A pedophile said this.
How can I do this?
You don’t know the power of love.
He does.
You don’t just get here.
She got that part,
but the dick is no longer the head,
and she’s an integrated soul
her/him.
You need both sexes to master sex.
I’m sorry,
grapple with that.
The conservatives are gonna kill ‘im.
The liberals?
They don’t even know what gender is.
Okay we’re sellin’
a Beavis and Butt-Head commercial.
No, but they are fun to watch.
Ask my grandson.
He lets out some gas there.
All kids do.
Alright I’m a Chinese junk,
but I can sure damn well float, you know?
Gaslighting
the Me Too.
Oh my God it’s real.
Thank you public.
I was sure you’d understand,
in the year 2525.
I’m just bein’ ridiculous.
It could happen a lot sooner.
Everybody shovels shit.
Sex compromises everyone.
Sex gets at yah.
Now I fight for it
in the rights of children.
Is this image real?
It’s all the way from the inside.
An inner speaker said this.
It’s in the roundabout of dream.
Can I surprise you with reality?
The outside world that you see
came bubbling up from the inside.
Watch your world arise in dream.
It comes from within
the world that we see.
In the poet-seer,
they put the world together.
What they see on the inside becomes reality.
Follow their vision.
It will manifest one day.
And here you have a seer’s ring.
He’s got you by the ying-yang.
You can’t handle sex,
and he’s just made you look at in children,
no abuse,
no adults involved.
You know this goes on.
Can you handle the vision?
It’s a world arising before your eyes,
where we finally see accept this
and heal that way.
Oh you stubborn people,
how long this gonna take?
You can’t even approach childhood sexuality
in tags.
They just want you delete it.
There’s somebody
downstairs
would like to put one more genital on yah.
It’s a shadow demon,
and he’s lookin’ for a hole in your fence.
They’re around children,
warpin’ them.
Sex is their mainstay.
It’s where they get us to compromise.
it’s where they get us to bite each other.
Kids don’t do that,
put lust scars on one another.
They play it’s exciting it’s fun.
They make a game of it.
It’s not straight sex.
It’s take turns.
They are so gentle with each other there,
and if one’s mean he’s out,
cause kids don’t like to get hurt,
and the bigger dick isn’t there yet to dominate.
They’re kids.
We let ‘em play together
so no demon takes control.
We learn gentleness on the table.
We take turns being good to one another.
We want it nice and sweet.
We don’t let the demons in.
Can you see this?
I don’t think you know the completeness of life,
how deep it goes,
how awful.
Am I gettin’ through?
Am I even making a dent?
Give this vision time to grow.
It’s on holy mountain.
This did not come from the abyss.
It came from God
if you want to know the truth,
in the seer who’s seen it and shown it to you.
Inevitably it rise.
We need gentleness in our lands.
Let the kids do it.
When we recognize our inner teacher,
and we know it’s helping us,
and we know it’s guiding our lives,
we will give children their glare.
We will let them be themselves.
Freedom for children,
it’s how we handle children.
Are you so deaf you can’t see that?
Not a bad idea—
this is the handwriting
every kid on this Earth.
Oh do you feel better
about no judgmental penis?
It’s a boy.
It’s a girl,
pretty together.
We want that.
Taking on the body will bring
all the right motive.
We’re taking it
to our human divinity.
That’s a good idea.
How to sharpen it:
don’t stop Nature in her tracks;
be real with kids.
What does this grow on us?
Sexual healing,
no sexual hangups.
Then I can leave sex
when I’m older. [heard sung in the voice of Thor in the film Good Boys, from the song “I Wanna Know What Love Is”]
We measure this in miles:
an older person doesn’t have sex,
the mature thirty-year-old and above.
Kids see that and know that’s growing up.
That’s divinity.
Hey Beavis and Butt-Head,
thank you for your service.
Hey teacher!
Leave those kids alone!
Rare voice.
That’s needed.
A seer’s whistle.
Pronounce this way with children
given to ourselves in our subtle beings.
It’s alright in there.
That’s the perfect yard.
That’s the rare Earth.
And I just wanna celebrate. [heard sung, Rare Earth, song “I Just Want to Celebrate”, the ending chorus]
I have personally
changed sex a few times.
I played mommy and daddy
with a kid when I was a kid,
with both girl and boy.
I was a gay man in Houston for six months,
on the Gay and Lesbian Switchboard,
and I’ve had girlfriends here and there
throughout my life.
Did I mention I’ve had a kid for dinner
alarming in my room?
From adolescence onwards,
what the sexual orientation identifies with.
I’m not proud of this.
I don’t brag to you about it.
I merely state if for business.
I had to find sexual healing,
and that’s an inside job.
I found the whole world that way
and the bigger than the world,
the Better.
Now I come to you in time.
I need to explain the zeitgeist is full of shit.
It’s not how you do it,
section off society.
Healing comes in integrated care.
It comes holistically clean,
and I’m here to tell yah it works.
You can trust the inner process.
The zeitgeist sucks, you know?
My photo
took minor,
minor care,
and I deal with him every day
the sacrifice I make for love.
He is well took care of,
the bridge behind poetry
to the reality of poetry,
the truth to the reality of poetry.
That’s Nithish,
avant-garde,
and the reality of poet in him too.
You will see this.
Well that’s language.
The Auroville Literature Festival sessions are now available on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@AurovilleLitFest/videos #SriAurobindo#Auroville#Aurovillefoundation#UnityInDiversity #aurovillepondicherry#aurovilleindia#aurovillelife#aurovillediaries
Maybe you’re scratching your head about what my beef with you is? This is a local literary festival, and I am a rather prolific Auroville poet ignored by both you and the other Auroville media outlets, all of them as a matter of fact. You’re all the same in your underwear. I might also add that my posting of comments comes from spiritual inner process to put the matter succinctly. Now I understand we have different politics, you and I, but can you be fair and inclusive anyway? It boils down to the question whether you are a propaganda arm of the Auroville Foundation, or are you an arm of the Mother? Is achieving human unity and creating the superman/woman at the very top of your agenda? Or is it ensuring the current secretary of Auroville stays on top? I’ve noticed that, in this literary festival, what I’ve seen of it, which is what you’ve presented in the form of videos, you seem more concerned with the love of and pride in your nation than with the affairs of humanity at large, those which get our goat, those which defeat us, those which confound us, those which brighten us, those which lift us up, those which take us where no person has gone before, those we need art and literature to look at so we can come to terms with them. Art and poetry can be more than be beautiful. They can push the envelope, tackle our taboos, talk about what we can’t; they often ask for social change, us to look at ourselves from a perspective we don’t want to. Can you do that, look from such a perspective? Here’s the deal. I want you to read a poem that does the above. It does not talk about either Auroville, India, or the Mother and Sri Aurobindo. Read the poem and tell me, as a reply to this comment, that either my poem has literary merit, or it doesn’t. I ask for your sincerity and that you have more than one person read it, and have people read it that love poetry and that are not offended by art, and I ask that, if you find my poetic style not to your liking, or you do become offended, you continue reading until the end of the poem. Thank you. [link to above poem]
Auroville Media Interface simply deleted the Facebook comment and blocked me. I have sent it to aurovillelitfest@auroville.org.in and will send it elsewhere.
Harm's End 