For Your Blind Date and Harrowing Experience

It’s all a fantasy program.
How are we localized here?
This stays.
It comes and goes
in the realms of sleep.
We are in a huge tin can,
and escape is impossible
if you follow the seams.

We don’t even know we’re in here.
A big accident gluttons our text
eating up forever.
This is existence proper,
with hot sauce.
This is existence on earth,
and we suffer here.

How is it done?
How are we fooled so early?
Not as sick as existence proper.
We last a long time
in our menageries.
The fairy roads to existence
startle all of us.
It’s all a sparks’ weaving fairy dance
putting circumstance in place
the settled fact.

It’s a picture show to tell you the truth.
Now where is that projector,
and is it being filmed as we speak?
Something’s funny goin’ on.
Can you find existence in there?
Can you even get at it?

It’s a big story-house in space
that we can’t find the light of,
and we are trapped in our rooms
of single seeing.
Better men then me have pulled these cords,
but this is my poet’s worth,
but these are my poet wings.

Where does it all lead to and why?
Do we even find out at the end of the movie?
I can take you farther than Earth
in the rounds of Earth,
and I can show you time in a bottle.
You would not believe who we are outside
where we imagine the universe.
It’s the secret of the ages,
and we carry its wind in our sails
comin’ back to itself.

What prolongs the long game,
and what makes us suffer so?
Can I tell yah?
I just did.
The tell-tales of existence,
I’m there.
I’m in the picture show with you.
Can you guys see that?

Interviews in the Sun

by the author
An Opening As Well to God
Up bring everything.
Where’s my boy?
A resident’s assembly
bringing towards that you.
Who lived off the grid?
What exactly
did you mean by business?
They think it’s me
the wrong piston,
this wagon:
I can’t find my dime
in society.
This sucks and I want out of it.
We’re on you like stink on shit—
the great big arms of society.
We don’t let you get there
to utopia.
We damage everything.

Now let’s go to the bubble Auroville,
an experimental town city.
Great Scott!
society couldn’t leave it alone,
molested it like a little child,
and it got taken over by the Indian government
way back when
but comin’ out of the woodwork now,
just as pretty as you please.
Now they’re stuck
with nothin’ to do about it.
A patriotic Indian government has taken over,
and they’re throwin’ out non-Indians who disagree,
makin’ the international city
Indian.

Spirituality’s the powder keg.
They don’t do it right
they say.
They quote the Mother and Sri Aurobindo all day
without understandin’ what they’re talkin’ about,
without knowin’ those words,
with the fervor of a religious persons
who bring Auroville to its knees
surrenderin’ to the Mother said.
This is the apex of the new city.
It’s lost its charter there.
I’m a mechanic,
and I’ve got some cars to work on,
the Auroville sedan
and the world school bus.
I want to show you the method of the spirituality.
I have some things to say.
Annie get your gun.
We might stay together,
anyone wantin’ a new society,
anyone wantin’ to change the world.
Annie’s gonna shoot us all
if she could.
She don’t let social change,
and she’s government big.

I begin here
my revolt,
not with gunpowder
or any type of violence,
not with protest signs and blockin’ streets.
I give you the ideas that will change the world.
Funny huh?
it’s just little ole me.
I want my boy to come home.
That’s this can you hear me?
That’s the child
I’m pullin’ out all the stops for,
I’m riskin’ my life for,
to rescue.

A black man did it,
killed all these people
in control of mankind,
without takin’ a single life,
without firin’ a single shot.
He got rid of their ideas that control us.
He blew up the machine
with the ideas that make the world.
Keep him open
answering questions.

There are horrors, huh, right now? [vision of a ghoul-like creature popping up from behind some trashcans that I kicked, as if it’d been hiding there]
The tremblin’ must be rewound by it.
You’re almost taken.
There is no revolution anymore.
It’s found you.
This is hotdog nigger stats,
your consumer prices index.
Am I racial string theory my dear?
Interracial.
We are all following the machine,
reacting to its wares and memes.
Nigger got you didn’t it?
You all jump in the same hoop,
even if you use that word to call people names.

We are a standardized machine,
no glory holes.
We take our partner
to legalized sex
and punish those who don’t.
Can I get at that spirit of the machine?
I’m not sayin’ sex traffic kids.
You’re all in a bottle you know,
even the one who breaks all the rules.
You’ve been put to the test,
livin’ off the grid like you do.
You define yourself by society.
Just look at the books you read.
They’re society bound,
even Henry David Thoreau
or that guru master you read.
You’re reading other people
of what you make work in life.

Can we get off the stairs?
Can you
table God?
My God he’s big.
Can I rewrite you
a blindin’ every minute
to the creation made today
as we speak,
nothing standardized nothing made
all this past that led up to now?
It’s a fairy rose,
a shapin’ flux
that’s puts together our minutes
seemingly aligned with the past.
A great big school of thought this
that brings the universe to bear.
I mean the universe is jumpin’ out at yah right now,
created this minute don’t you see?

A settled creation no.
Created now
of world maker’s art.
You have these pistons it fits into,
and you grease your days and nights
with your own content.
You are a happening in the Void,
a mechanism for a movie
graveling existence into nothingness
so that we can be.
Do you have your hat on?

When science reaches here it will see God
guiding stars from above
and gathering forms in place,
but it is fairy rose,
the whole damn show.
In this existence is real.
Its rises God,
climbs out of the Void
by lighting it,
and we make up its lives.
See you soon
at the reunion of stars.
We do not come from the Void.
We are the soul in the machine.

Now do you see miracle?
The soul rises in the machine.
Are you startled?
You should be.
That’s the bulwark of creation right in your hands.
Now take a child and whip him again.
You know you’re risin’ stakes.
You don’t see the significance Earth?
It has a wonder-weft in it.
To your mom
Nithish.
We have the autograph books for Being,
big beautiful Being.

That’s why wood’s together,
those two grapplin’ with existence proper,
the boy that makes you uneasy,
the man that makes you question things,
they find inner muscle.
I’ll have X call you back.
You know he’s waiting.
Now for some childhood trauma.
I met the Void
in its dirty underwear.
Outside of the world
I disappeared from Heaven
in a toddler’s nightmare.
Buried alive,
I had existence piled on top of me.
I rose things
that jumped out and rescued me.
Fell down in the Void
a toddler with inner journey secrets.
All our arms point down be careful.
Hell has a wide mouth.
Light itself got me out.
Can I call your name?
Can I name the world?
Caught in those wheels myself existence rose,
right in the middle of the sun.

Now I’ve seen where holocaust comes from,
saw the monsters of the deep
and the origin of all evil.
I felt it there.
Trade me for secrets,
and I will light what can’t be seen.
Come down to earth with me,
and let’s get out of this hole
leading little lives of quiet desperation
not knowin’ where we’re goin’
or a get there to get there too,
just bein’ fishes
in a plastic bottled sea
in the pattern of the days.
Even if you’re rich
or the president of something,
we’re in the Void.
We are almost buried in the machine.

What do we do with these minutes?
We standardize them,
make them in line,
and we do this by society’s test
in the basics of us,
no matter where we live.
I’ve chased you there,
all the great thinkers escapin’ the machine.
I don’t think you can be free in it.
Here is the test now
in a sudden poem.
My God that works.
I can do it.
Fine, I’m in my underwear.

Can I show you the Holocaust again in time,
the cruelty of one towards the other,
the diabolical meanness?
Will you change that way
and be kind to people
or even good,
or will you hate the abusers
and turn off the TV?
Will you see this in your own house
with your own kids,
forcing them into labor camps
of school,
making them obey you or else,
giving them your name not theirs,
making them fill society’s roles
and cutting off their souls?
It’s a holocaust of denial.
We make standard kids
in a standard room,
and we can’t get over it don’t work.
Even if our kids cure cancer,
they haven’t made humanity bigger than itself,
they haven’t evolved us further than ourselves,
they haven’t seized the wheels of time
and discovered us.

You live in a box you see,
a prison house of weft.
I’m tryin’ to find a key to outside
where the inner splendors lay,
but you’ll just shoot me if I’m wrong,
not in my theory in my moral with boys.
Look at you.
You will deny the inside
in the moments of this poem
because I can’t talk about it
I’m not worthy?
We all live in the yellow submarine. [sing line]
Coffee sir,
I think we’re on the brink of change.

I’m off right now.
These are world fireworks
of every cloud in the sky.
I’m a loud chitty bang bang.
I arrest you and put you to sleep.
I call your name at night.
I’m bigger than sin.
I’m your guacamole.
I take you to the temple at night.
I really get into your stuff,
and I can mislead you too.
I can really mislead you.
I play with your consciousness like it’s on fire,
and I wrap it around the gods
and the name you call home.
I’m puddin’ in a bucket.
I show you things unseen about yourself.
I fry there.
I’ve got a lot of gas
to get you to the supermarket and back.
I can change your life
if you let me.
I can show you which way to go
and where you must not go.
I’m a conscious mechanism in dream
and all vision states.
I’m your inner life
where it touches ground
when you’re alone to yourself.
No dammit I'm not Donny.
Jeez, representative think, will yah?

I’m great big and I’m mean.
I mean when you first open me,
for a lot of people.
I change the world
into its starlight,
and I’m all piss and vinegar in them hellholes.
Come open me I’m a gift
of inner seeing,
the lost art of humanity.
Wanna watch it grow?
Right before your eyes
in this poem.
This is what you’re off the grid for,
to get in touch with your inner dynamics,
to reopen miracle and you.

You’ve got to consciousness to get there
and study there like you’re in school,
where to travel in dream
when you wake up in them,
how to use the paralyzed trance
to leave your body and your room
and see if we share a field of consciousness,
how to bake there
in any inner keeping
the questions of existence,
of who you are
and what unfolds time.

Off the grid do you hear me?
No, you can do this in a valet parking lot,
right in the middle of society.
You don’t have to wear shoes.
You can just get goin’
anywhere you find yourself
stuck on Earth.
You don’t have to have any titles to do this,
no special education.
You can just be you
opening the doors of the inner consciousness
and discovering what’s in there
don’t you see?

Samadhi
will come along eventually,
and you will abide there
fishin’,
even in the surrender mode.
We have paths to cross.
We’ve got to get to know time.
We have to see who we are.
This is in the middle of the road.
That's the dream maker.
It gets you out of boxes,
and it’s available to every man, woman, and child,
even in the animal kingdom.
I’m in;
how did you get down there?

You study dream.
You look for the doorways in there,
the spiral force that takes you,
the swing,
and the fall down into the well of soul.
There is enlightenment too
that you can slip into
for a dream wear.
There’s overhead experience.
You focus on the inside
like it’s your business.
Soon you will see the future in dream,
where you dream every night
some part of tomorrow.
It’s in symbols weird.
It will blow your mind.
You will explore consciousness then
so fortified.
I don’t believe in magic.
You will begin to.
Just open the inner doors
with discernment and kindness
and a watch out about yourself,
and see the world change.

You don’t jump in boxes.
You call out my name
and send money to this number.
Now you know how a fraud sounds,
as I notice your red tongue.
Do you wanna be a teacher?
You don’t need a guide.
Go get your calendar.
I’m going to build
a new house.
That takes time.
Inner red riding book,
that’s your splashdown.
How to fly to inner report the eggs that it needs?
Symbol after symbol you will encounter.
It’s the language of the Spirit.
I never thought about needing one.
We haven’t gotten to the interpretation of dreams yet,
but in our little dream company we cracked the code.
Start with Episode 1.
It’s a podcast silly,
but it’s free.

I don’t have a guidebook to give you.
I just have me
when you get down to dream.
I have evidence it’s out there,
the rediscovery of mankind,
the great big rediscovery
of all our good books on survival,
how we get along,
and where we change for one another,
share that field inside.
I’m bigger than my room.
You just watch.
The table where we’re all planted
the beginning of the inner revolution.
Listen to this poem there.
It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature,
and it’s right here we beat AI,
with our own inner television.
I see.
I need a new pair of shoes.
And that’s great.

Earth meaning on a whole,
the meeting of two red lines,
you keep your outer life goin’.
Don’t lose your job,
and if you take your kids out of school,
make sure they can function in society.
Don’t give them your life.
Let them find theirs.
Outer life tuned,
you’re now an ensemble of the inner too.
You don’t get lost there.
You don’t even make it your life’s work.
It’s your education,
how to handle the outer life
and where to go with it,
ultimately how to change the world.

You don’t get led astray
by your name among men.
Can I exemplify you?
You let your art do that.
It will fly before humanity
the flag you’re supposed to,
the take place of you art.
These will come from inner wares,
the more inner,
the more valuable.
You’re not doin’ this to preach.
You wanna find yourself inside
to get into that outside
the proper material.

You’re balancin’ life
the inner wares too.
You don’t cut one short.
The inner and the outer play along
and begin to dovetail.
You can do both at the same time.
That’s advancement.
That’s where it starts,
you outgrow yourself,
you’re becoming the bigger you are,
and it’s diamonds,
but it’s not wear around your neck.
You meet the breeze humbly and sweetly,
without acting.
Your self-honesty has reached sincerity.
Come over here.
You’re in the drawing room of God,
and great shoulder notions
ride your room.
This is the attack plan
of a real world revolution.
Sweet, ain’t it?
Sweet and kind.
This is the attack plan of an inner revolution,
and all you have to do is open your eyes
to inner beginnings.
You got that right?

I’m gonna explore and investigate consciousness.
Bottled up inside you
your destination.
See who it is
an overhead experience.
Now you know you’re there
because you’ve reached this nameless origin,
the Person that you are,
the origin of all your lives,
somewhere up there in the sun,
greatly over your head.
You can see everything.
It’s too big for you to remember
when you return to your little self.
My God this is big,
and there’s no mistakin’ time.
You’ve been outside of it.
You’ve been bigger than the moon,
the tall country of the gods.
I’m ashamed of this?
You don’t even know it’s there.
You can’t count the sun.

Now murder me for it,
or get your persecution gun,
like you’re doin’ now
in Auroville the city of dawn.
I’m an outcast there,
not now about little boys,
where we begun.
I’ve made people mad by seeing things
the community don’t.
I’ve engaged people
who wear special status
in spirituality or somethin’.
They glide in my room
and just spit there.
Most won’t respond to me,
and I’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest
I believe.

These are little people.
What do you do with them?
You come out of your holes
and shine.
You don’t hide yourself no more.
My boy’s at stake I’ve got to do this.
He needs my help.
Will I be here tomorrow?
I don’t know.
I’ve got people on my case.
I can disappear anytime.
So I show you the sun
and where creation comes from.
I give it to you all
free and without regard
to my safety.
Great you say,
big deal,
are you trying to impress us?

It’s the wrong time for this.
Everybody’s show and tell.
I am just one in a number
oh isn’t that interesting?
But here in Topeka
the flies are a buzzin’. [sing this and above line, a song by Loretta Lynn]
I’m in danger here.
What’s a body to do?
Why open more poetry of course,
high priority encounters
about the transfer of the One.
Then you draw the line
he needs rescued.
I want my boy back.

Great Fields Earth

photo by the author
What is the reality of love?
Also whisper.
Facebook items,
the key story
homes.
Nothing else taps it.
I go through generations.
Hear what was going on,
my falsehood—
I will stop him from going into silent night,
silent ground.

But the graces of life
protect me,
and I look over it.
I’m a field study.
I’m an alpha nigger,
higher than perfume.
I get into cars,
laptops and computers,
and go the distance.
I recharge my phone
with the very ground of being.

I am so low I see high.
Humility has me by the balls.
I come upon sudden mastery.
I’m not about to endanger your skies,
and I have the formula for world change.
We can’t brag about it.
It’s hard on all of us.
I just sit here and die in my tin can,
and then all of a sudden I’m walkin’ the moon to its orbit.
I have the sun in my eyes,
and I don’t blink.

I know the power of the world.
I am sure God’s there.
I see Him on His rounds.
I am commensurate with that
on the top of myself at dawn.
Nowhere in my being reaches that
but there.
It’s a knowledge I breathe
that I can’t get out of,
and I’m a little man doing little things
as the day wears on.
I don’t pride there.

I’m never alone.
My inside is full of deity.
You better be careful.
I’m on the standin’ line of deity watchin’ the world,
because I know They’re there.
We need to open up and see this in each other.
We are both stations of God,
you and me reader.
I die there sometimes
the knowledge is so heavy, immense.
I just stand and take it
and come back to joy before long.

I know the knowledge that made the worlds,
and it tears me apart,
because the power does not come to me
to change one single goddamn mind,
to reach out and be seen,
heard,
to bring my child out of trouble,
to even know the wind of the day.
I am a barrel of monkeys
to what it takes to perk up the world,
and I have seen the world
from God’s eyes,
in a station beyond the universe
right here intimate with man,
a few glory-filled seconds,
long enough to know the origin of all my lives,
long enough to know that I am He,
long enough to look up and see more.

You would not know what I’m talking about.
It’s bigger than size and measure.
It’s what the worlds was made.
I can’t get away from that vision now.
Oh how we but little grasp our day,
little doings we try to put in big pots,
but I know the pot you see.
Can I study you the stars?
They are wonderful in magic,
are the Heavens we adore,
but they do not bring us to God,
and it’s God on Earth wore.

Can I tell you about history?
Knock, knock,
God is entering every room on the planet
to happen here.
This is inevitability rides the sun,
and the years are carrying us there,
one by one,
evolution’s minutes wrote.
Are you startled to see this?
This is not a junk call.
This is the hypotenuse of time,
and high and lonely seers,
we grasp this with our hands
and spill the beans to you.

Are you sure you’re puttin’ me on hold?
I have more to tell.
I’m gettin’ down to bare bones now.
I’m showing you creation’s ways,
and I can see the world arise
right in front of me.
Awesome, ain’t it?

What do we do with it?
We put it in its place.
We don’t let it get away from us.
We know that every day can
work out the formula of impossibility
and solve it.
I’m referrin’ to us,
where we love each other and why,
and how do we make that love true?
It’s the danger of the years,
love’s high gamble
in the face of certain death.
We lose each other you see,
and that just kills us.
We hold our loved ones we hold death.
How’s that for a keeper?

What brings the salvation
before we cross that gap between love and death?
A spiritual consciousness
that’s bigger than us,
and I’m sorry there’s no other remedy.
Love hurts.
Enlightenment’s wings
unheed pain,
and we do not suffer the pain of loss.

I’m there you see,
in loss looking at the spiritual consciousness.
I’ve put it on a time or two,
short flashes
that tell me know it’s there.
It’s surety that rings it,
sooner or later.

Now laugh at me, slap me, ignore me;
I’m on ground-field Earth
liftin’ up the sky.
Shoot me;
I’m a real thing,
a genuine who done it,
made the grass match the stars.
Roll the planet down,
and I’ll ride it like a speaker.
Yah hear me kids?

This is what’s going on,
and God opens His eyes.
Tryin’ to interview Pitch Thought about his character,
you gotta draw the line somewhere.
Ode to the line,
a good friend to you,
I think your security blanket,
and I’m a top down answer.

I had a momentary experience.
It’s all written.
I had a visionary experience
of every local thing on Earth
realizin’ dream
to catch up with God,
and you had just told me look bread.
Oh, I didn’t realize it was me.
Anyway,
look bread.