That kid sees daddy God’s will. That kid never sees daddy again. His parents are evil saying that. Evil and horny, they market this child for themselves. This is bad business. They stomp on him every day. They can’t help themselves. It’s gleeful. They like making this boy suffer. The power surrounds them. They feel like Gods in his presence. They get off on his pain. They know he loves daddy, and they punish him for it, every single day.
They are beside themselves with hate— their child wants to be with daddy, and they know that. The terror they put through him to force him to keep his mouth shut, or to force him to lie, is what you do to your child when you’re monsters. He is so scared of them he has thoughts they will kill him, smother him in his sleep I’ve already told you in another poem. Can you imagine doing that to your child, being the terror of his life?
They revel in this, will not let him up, and the power they have over God, it’s where they find themselves stupid. God does not honor them or what they do. How God allows evil to take us for a ride, is everywhere apparent. You saw how long the Nazis rule, how long Islamic State cut people to pieces. Then God comes in, and evil forces are destroyed, like the Earth itself does it. You see it happen every day. Evil gets reckoned with.
Evil gets changed, can we show you the gist of this story? Nithish is not here to suffer so his parents can be punished for it. They will know what they did, and their love for their child will show them, what has been there a measure on the situation, keeping the beatings to a minimum, keeping the abuse from killing him. You know he thought of suicide. What this boy has done is shown what child abuse is when it’s not recognized as abuse, here in India where you can beat children and totally and absolutely control their lives, bend them to your will, even expect they worship you, and even adulthood does not find freedom.
Nithish has gone through this so you can see this. They’re not expecting art. They weren’t expecting mine. His parents aroused a poet to defend his boy, to help his boy, to save his boy, the likes of which you’ve never seen, have you? A power of poetry that gives God reign, that let’s Him do His business, you hear it now.
But we find another poet here, tender in years, his parents have tried to murder because they associate it with me. I opened up poet in him, and you’ve heard him sing. He has the future in his hands, a poet of prophecy, and he prophesied this abuse and his waylay in it. Read his poetry this can’t be denied.
Can we come to terms with Nithish? His future poetry writes a verse that will finally free children from being someone’s property, from having the status of slaves, not to buy and sell and trade, but to make them obey with no say in the matter, and to make them do their parents’ will regardless of the cost to the child, to make it as though the child was born for them, for the parents’ pleasure, for the parents’ rule, to obliterate the fact that a soul came down on this adventure Earth to work out its purposes in time. This slavery we need to see, and these slaves we need to free.
To abruptly stop his childhood in the slam shut of school, when he has a learning disability they do not address, they know but will not admit, will scar him for the rest of his life. It’s their thang with him, and they love it there. You’re meant to be crisscrossed. You’ve stolen the boy’s life, but you cannot see you’re wrong for the trees, the stupid people who back you up, the negligent police, the blatantly ignorant Child Welfare Committee, and a school that is so backward in education they let parents abuse their child and don’t even know what a learning disability is. They are ridiculously called New Modern Vidhya Mandir Higher Secondary School, and they’re not going to stop me from showing them to the public when all this is over. They need held accountable for this. I will see to that.
Interstellar from national backgrounds, I will show where Earth is wrong in school, school responsible for the shape we’re in, and school we need to change. Academics take a backseat to being human you colonial legacies fillin’ the Industrial Revolution’s need. Antiquated, outdated, and on steroids, it’s destroying our world. Beavis and Butt-Head are to help us through kids to their appointment in time, to their children now adults later, to the sting of childhood making us examine ourselves in roles as parents and teachers crammin’ adulthood down their throat, and they are yet but children. You very ignorant and narrow-minded, corncob stuck up your ass, uptight bunch of people, did you hear that?
Good, I’m weighin’ on yah now. Just wait till that boy regains his pen you stop shoving school down his throat and let his poet speak, his purpose on this God’s green earth you won’t allow cause you’re dim in the head and give his parents absolute rights. Just wait till he gets that pen again. Just wait. Nithish will give us the right ideas to parent children, and that is his future fate. That poet is among us now silenced, gagged. You think so? Let’s wait and see.
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, or very little.
I need to mention that school for Nithish is 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 split 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. If I am unable to bring him home, I believe the boy will become a psychopath like his father, who has murdered four men in cold blood for his gang.
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, but I do know from others telling me that he is silent about me and the life that was taken from him, does not even mention me or it. 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, understand what has happened to him, and stand up for himself. I do not understand spiritual process, all this miracle just to go to the garbage can of his mind, be deleted. He has as yet no interest in reading it.
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.
Harm's End 