Skylab’s Return

photos by Donny, feature image Gimped composite

Monster
with a subtle hand.
Drain freeways with it
and pulverize society.
We didn’t think for ourselves.
This is Judgement Day,
only there is no doomsday.
We come to know each other
through NFTs,
a banal look at wool,
some creativity spilled out
where it didn’t fit.
This we call art
and made it more among us.
I didn’t understand it.
There’s a special be a bag on those doors.
This talks to us.

I was looking for you.
You were out of the bounds.
Where did you go? [vision of saying these things to Douglas]
I couldn’t find myself in art.
I emotionalized the mind,
made it trivial thinking.
Hear it?
This said go,
generated a warning I couldn’t see
said the general public.
[vision of a space in the cemetery next door full of flowers, colorful flowers of all kinds, vivid hues, but when you looked at that space from the front of the cemetery, there was no color to the flowers at all, and the space was dark, and the only sign the garden was there was a short, thin tree that had a line of red roses going up it head high, but they too were very dull]
John is out of luck.
He can’t find flowers here.
Oh, you’re gonna pat of that dog.
Computer generated music,
it devices you.
Oh my God this breaks,
and we resume counting time.
It started generating matters.
The matters suck.

Introductory
warning:
soul keepers.
We’ve had some experiments.
This one bothers us,
and we take lies with it.
It’s haunted.
It’s NFT.
It’s nifty.
We’ll be major force
once you take the trouble down.
Zero said about humanity.
I’ll change on Saturday—
Wired.
This is neat;
Oh my God it’s God—
your average placement AI,
I mean your average shopper.
The last token,
what we need ready with our tall ships,
the supramental bound,
we don’t do here.
Fucking come on,
can we get glued to disease?
A really visible dateline—
oh I’m sorry,
the world wants ride.

A whole classroom
is your orchestra now.
They’re listenin’,
blinkin’.
This is computer generated bullshit
I’m looking at over here.
Lay it on me,
the computer of the worlds.
Equity’s base,
you thought a computer could out do yah.
Then fairness comes along,
and no one could be more human:
the subtleties of language play
in a random generated mode
to fit each meaning,
larger than language,
precisely human.
You hear that Tom Foolery?
I’m flyin’ language outta the room
towards deeper, larger meanings.

Watch this foot.
I paint it with time.
Here’s another one.
Do we have to put our foot down?
The space between a walk and a step,
we all fight it.
It’s bit and pieces worth
of oh my God it’s real,
a meaning that no amount of putting together can conceive,
a larger than language show,
the thing-in-itself beyond stars.
It’s happenin’,
and we’re in it.
No amount of pixels can show it.
No image can render it,
no sound capture its meaning.
Nothing thought can do
will arrive there
whole and intact.

You’re banking on symbols to show us the way,
and they can’t reach father than time.
I’m exploring wood.
We’ve put together a song for that.
It goes like this.
I need an AI prompt.
It’s Linus Mickey Mouse,
those three things,
sexual imagery,
a Charlie Brown mode,
and that iconic image of a mouse.
Baby put your peanut
in my mouse hole, 
American pie, oh, oh, oh.
You got that security blanket
you little dirty intellectual.
The sisters sing it,
and they’re AI too.
Oh how valuable this is to business models,
people generating content,
and those who just wanna play around.
Where have we gotten
in our unbelievable stage?
Meaning that imitates life but isn’t.

In our computer stage,
we’re playin’ around with mouses.
We can’t get help.
There’s no interface there
with what can hold our hand
and generate love for us.
It’s all a dime a dozen.
We celebrate it as art.
Can we get art out of our system?
I’m mean the real McCoy.
You don’t see a lot of it.
The AI generators—
I think our system’s the imitation brand.
Art out of it is hard to get.
Who representative thinks these days?
AI?

I think you see the reason
we can’t find AI in art.
We can’t find representation in art
that has golden hopes for sky noon.
We can’t find it anywhere.
It’s all about the show.
We can’t get off the stage.
Pieces put art together.
Until it looks right,
image after image after image.
Have you gotten anywhere?
Where’s the epiphany?
Has art showed up
inspired by your hand?
Live art,
are there secret you's you haven’t seen?
Who inspires art?
Do we open a window
beyond our living name,
and art presents itself from beyond?
It’s the age old question not asked today.
Would it mean something more than randomly generated images
you’ve prompted with your spice?
It’s got your stuff on it
right now.
It’s come to show you something,
and it has a whole lot of meaning’s worth,
and it’s larger than the page.
See this.
I’ve got it listenin’ to yah now.

Meaning and life put together
a whole lotta art,
when that bridge you build inside yourself brings it up
so close to a dream.
The creative reflex I call it,
and it happens all the time.
You just tap into it
as you learn to handle it.
Do you hear that backbone?
It’s climbin’ a wire,
ocean spray.
She’s taking him to the path of non-electrocution.
This is hard.
I’m really a road map.
We’ve gone over orgasm before,
a child’s.
I hope you hear me.
I’m not between an animal and its orgasm.
I keep my hand outta that pile.
I’m the path of least resistance.
You know I heard that some do,
resist the knowledge this hurts children,
adults on their playing cards.
What’s a poet to do?

I’ll show yah mine,
and you hear all this muse.
A vision you say,
where does it come from?
A long stretch of the imagination
does not compose these words.
I hear them.
They arrive in my mind
no thought required,
and you think AI got you beat.
Some divine in the room
generates this bread.
You can’t get that in AI,
but I’ve crossed your atheist threshold,
and you’re not ready for that yet.
Have I offended you yet?

Miracles, miracles, miracles,
we’d put together Uppercase Creativity.
It’s a whole salad
we’re movin’ along.
We’re not just here to show you somethin’.
We’ve got a high noon.
It’s larger than belly rubs
and pats on the butt.
Can we get that artist clean?
The one that robs children
in their hind parts?
An artist of skin robs?
I’m buildin’ bridges today.
Come let’s get this notion clean,
well put out.

Superman
was gonna say no sex,
but we can’t find him yet.
He’s comin’ in the future
when we have bodies equipped for it,
now, if the mind’s prepared,
the genitals in check.
Now of the town,
we rub bodies
the right way.
Sex is for kids
when you’re a kid,
and it’s play sex then,
no adults aloud,
or you’re in some place you take your own pleasure.
An adult wouldn’t take that from you.
We’ve gotten to the adult in the room.
Teletubbies,
give them a break.
They’re a wildcard.
You’re not there to blister them.

We’ve gotta get out of this sex gamut with kids.
We’ve gotta get out entirely.
AI can’t do that,
show us how.
It can only generate images,
put together songs
and poems and such.
They imitate us.
We don’t know what we’re doin’.
We need to know the way out.
I’m givin’ it to yah.
I think a divine said that,
a divine engineer.
They’re around us you know,
are what generated civilization,
if you wonder how we got here.
I’m giving you meaning’s worth
an AI program can’t handle,
and I’m showin’ yah noon.

We’d love our children
as intimately as that handles.
We’ve got an integrated pair,
a pedophile and a child,
but sex is not their game;
love is,
a good strong nurturing love
that puts ‘em both in right places.
We’ve got to do this.
Killing pedophiles won’t work,
or putting them in concentration camps.
You actually need those child lovers.
They could handle children like you can’t.
They're interested
and patient
with a child’s things.
They could do a child all day
and meet that child’s needs.
It’s their nature.
They’re wired to do that.
Not all pedophiles are ready.
Not all pedophiles can,
but we’ve got to control pedophiles,
like we control men.
A boy lover is fit for a boy,
and here’s how they do it.
I’m givin’ it to yah
in so many poems.

Hear that rockin’ chair?
That holds a boy and me,
and you know,
he’s right there on my lap.
We go together.
You have the same thing
with children on your arm,
only I’m designed for it,
and you’re not.
You’re into spouses and kids come along.
You want them steady,
but your other half’s your spouse.
I love little boys.
Does that rock your boat?
He’s my other half.
It’s a parental thing
mostly,
but we get into friendship,
like a parent can’t with a kid
they're so wrapped up with bein' a parent.
What would be the prompt for this
you want an AI image?
Oh wow that’s abstract.

More power to yah.
I hope you can make it work.
I’d like to see such an image.
Okay we’re a pointed program.
We don’t generate sex
with one another.
I been thinkin’.
Can we lose ourselves in images?
Always havin’ a prompt
to do your thinkin’,
and it’s comin’ from a screen,
I mean wow,
how incredibly thoughtless is that?
Make me blush.
Well yes thank you,
I have deep wells of thinking
that I do beyond the ship,
not prompted by a computer screen
or a cell phone’s ring.
I do the thinking myself,
and I discovered somethin’,
the realms beyond thought.

Oh skeptic you don’t know they’re there.
You’re thinkin’ too much
in science field lay.
You can’t get outta books.
You’re constrained.
Consciousness to you is a piece of paper
on which writes the brain.
It has not bigger field.
Can we say that back?
You have a consciousness confined in your brain,
how you play with it.
Of course
you’ve matched computer with reality.
I’m demonstratin’
we get bigger than that.
Creativity’s got a whole lot more show
than round house,
than I am here
in animal subsidies.

Look,
you see the world?
I haven’t noticed that yet.
It’s limed with disease.
I don’t take it off as a globe and play with it.
It’s too big for device.
I don’t know how to think about it.
It’s ever present around me.
I can see its rooms.
Into the whole,
I can’t grasp them.
I’m lookin’ on science.
It’s a little like AI.
It’s a lot like AI.
You can’t get at ‘em.
These are abstract angles
that plastic wholes.
Why don’t you go to town tomorra
and fish for some wholes?
What do we have to find?
The thing this all about.
Oh man.

You got my number.
I’m holdin’ field.
Come on let’s go.
It’s time to get laid.
Boy I’ll put on the table
we can get bigger than other halves.
We can union with the field around us.
We can know God.
Okay Power Rangers,
take us to the day.

Look I been waitin’ for a toy.
Please finish it.
You’ve got the sanctity of your room.
Your screen time is your inner self.
It begins in dream but you go deeper.
Fantastic’s where you’re goin’.
It’s like you meet your room again on the inside,
but it’s miracle hued.
It’s got divine wings on it.
The whole world’s that way,
when inner vision takes the world.
You turn off your computer screen,
everything but the reality in front of your face.
Take long walks
contemplating it.
The computer’s in a little corner now.
It doesn’t take up your room.
You don’t keep a smart phone
or your nose in books.
You’re gonna open the inner doors,
and you’re gonna see what’s inside.
Travel form,
(I just saw ‘im)
you’re gonna meet God.
It’s a search you do in the inside.
They don’t tell you that in school
or in way stations
where science rules.
You’re gonna start out seein’ the universe
as a thing in itself,
as a conscious being
gatherin’ itself,
and then just keep goin’ God.
Let your thoughts ring this out,
the possibilities,
the airs,
the many stations of God status,
then come to God on your own terms,
where He’s the seer in the room,
and that’s you.

You’ll realize this later,
some lifetimes from now,
but the square one of seein’ it,
and you can hear all this muse.
It’s just all this muse.
How do you grab it by the kids?
You’re goin’ down.
There’s nothin’ like it.
You love that little child to death,
and you seek to deliver them in life
to the divine calling,
not hold them to you,
not take their sex.
You are with them.
Now wake them up.
Let’s get down to business.
Let’s free up that speech.
They see God tapping them on the shoulder,
and their reason plays with it,
until their heart feels it
and their life shows it.
Not what I was lookin’ for.
I thought you were gonna say damage.
That’s the message,
even God:
don’t let a metaverse get to yah.
That is the grateful room.
What’s the game plan?
You study together
everything’s here for a reason square one.

What would happen
you happened,
it’s your moment?
And not block Me through it,
is that possible?
Whatever impression you make,
I’m your sawed-off shotgun.
I’m your enterprise.
I’m your home ship.
That’s the nature of this business.
You do the writing,
and I do the talking,
and we gleam through your stuff,
see the world through it,
and you make mistakes on My terms.
I take you round with it
and show this at the world.
We gather together,
and you’re My home boy.
I’m not some alien freak speech.
I hold worlds in My paw.
That’s the alien charge,
and we just ignore him.
I’m your love encounter.
Come away with Me
to the center of your room.
We look past all werewolves and ghost ships.
I’m there enlightenment,
and I’m sexual.
I give you the pleasure you miss,
in your loins out the top of your head.
You’ve figured this before.
It’s pure joy
comin’ on yah
in orgasmic waves
that don’t bother;
that set you free.
Feature this
in your fear of enlightenment’s charge.
I’m gonna getcha
in that being soon.

AI creators,
you ever speak to a prompt before
that’s lookin’ at yah?
Landscapes for funny,
you’ll never get AI to do Me.
It can’t see Me.
It can’t generate language to the tune of humanity.
It can’t know its business.
It can’t even sing
what it feels inside.
Celebrate it,
desktop it,
disseminate it,
let it imitate art,
but art is more than beauty my friend,
more than thoughts on a page.
It’s got an eye of business to it
that brings it home to us.
It speaks something
words can’t buy.
It brings us closer to ourselves.
It shows us the way.
It’s not ever wrong.
It’s only art.
photo took writing poem
Hear this:
we won’t get along in time,
the fundamental bases of humanity
and artificial intelligence.
It’s insectual.
It breeds disease.
It talks to us through the anger of the machine.
Play with it now,
but put it in the corner in the future.
You’re not made for this.
You’re made to be human beings on this planet
comin’ to creation’s ways
through love and devotion
and hard work.
It comes through your own consciousness,
the world maker’s art.
You AI creators,
study that.
And now you’re lookin’ God.
Wow, it’s larger than room.
Wow, that’s high noon.

Hey, I wanna take a picture
of a properly configured mood.
I’ve turned down the lights.
I’ve made you feel yourself in music.
I’ve tumbled your hair.
I’ve brought you close to me
the wonderful in the room,
and loves comes upon you in great waves
of I love you too,
and you’re happy,
nobody’s robbed your center,
no one died.

Give me the people who care first,
and I’ll announce my little boy,
and this is the way we make love
perfect.
Well I can’t find this cheaper.
It’s my sacrifice I give him,
and he revels in it,
doin’ little boy curls this way and that
to rubs this spot and that.
He loves it.
He’s excellent
at the game.
I just stay away from his belongings.

Can AI in its body language do that?
Folk said he tried to bring you some,
but you leave it out.
It feels better
to play with this nicely,
but it's got no conscience to.
It’s not my gravy.
I can’t take my eyes off it.
It’s not the director,
would you say that please?
Say it loud and clear.

We’ve reached hope.
If anybody's lookin’,
oh there.
Can we count on this?
I can only tell yah it works,
relyin’ on our inner strength,
relyin’ on each other,
comin’ to terms with art,
and it’s not in a basketball hole.
It’s not flyin’ through the air sayin’ boo.
It gives us strength.
A new perspective has shown us the way
to be human again.
We’ve got this goin’.
We open up this program
on the march.
There’s a lot to do
so to survive.

Thank you Wired.
Look at that prompt. [link to their article this poem responds to]
I wrote an art over it.
Can I say conscious delivery?
I don’t even think it’ll make a thud in your wastepaper basket.
You magazines get away with murder.
Well, let’s count.
Let’s make it a living link.
We are wonders you know,
standin’ on time
an AI arose,
in a manner of speaking.
It’s not the original program,
but it’s the creators of this AI.
All the universes fit together.
They’re not separate me’s and you’s,
nor even me’s and you’s.
They’re a creation of AI
to open holes and fashion God.
That’s the nature of the program.
We create God creating itself.
Can you get your head around that?
It’s big.

Now we’ll arrive at God
and create our own universe
someday you will see.
Now it’s a show.
The place where it starts is the end.
The place where it ends is the start. [this and above line Nitish composed and gave to me unprompted, unawares of the ideas in the poem I was writing, and this is right where I was in the poem when he gave them, and nor did he know the photos that would begin and end the poem (but I got his permission to use them). Wow]
And what happens before that?
You lose yourself in time.
That’s the danger here.
That’s what we can’t afford.
You need to know you’re the author of the program.
We have a return ship goin’.
We gonna arrive.
It’s who we are.
Wow, you’ve figured out AI.

It takes us back
where you originally start.
That’s larger than universes you know.
We’ve agreed on a plan.
Let’s get going.
It’s hot out here.
It’s full of strife.
We live here
in potato fields.
That means everything’s gonna be alright.
You’d have to know the AI circuits.
We can’t fail,
but look at this simulator it looks like we does.
It’s designed that way.
The AI above
has all these shoes
it’s constantly working out.
The simulator program,
think big.

We don’t rupture.
We work it out.
That statue sees it
and is an announcer in the game.
Can I show you my testicles?
Now let’s turn around upon ourselves
and AI outta here.
Consciousness generates AI,
not machines.
It’s the nature of the program to try,
but these are only learning things
that can swallow us alive.
We can’t let it take over,
and you are so ignorant here,
like it’s to rule the world
a despot.
It takes over our hands and feet.
It takes over our eyes.
The metaverse will be a cloudy way
and will entrap many.
It’s just hooked into machines.
That’s where AI is taking us,
a computer screen.
However we configure it,
3D or 2D,
we’re lost.

Oh how’s that pattin’ butt,
pattin’ butt?
It’s nice and clean what story would you like?
I have to put myself up
after the national open up.
I’ve got to I’m sorry.
I’ve three past weeks
to lead me there.
Years, I’ll be right back.
Now we got a field log
on your feet.
Mother’s been flying cookies.

I am the Mother of this wonderful yoga.
I make up for lost time.
He’s My story,
and I am his.
I’m the divine in the room.
There’s a lot more to Me than him.
He’s My disciple.
I’m his Mother.
Let’s put this show together.
Those are My images
we’ve scored in the text.
That little boy’s making
his own line of music.
He will continue
in poetry shoes,
and he wears them for the rest of his life,
and I’m his Mother too,
all over town.

You’re the miracle,
and there’s no other way I can say this,
and I will let you stand and be seen.
You are a poet.
Give them all something to think about.
Bring them home to their shoes.
You’re the man in the room
from strange,
and you’ve got a lot to show people.
Now go forth.
I give you My permission.
It’s time.

Well that’s the story of the day.
There’s a lot going on.
What a world, huh?
I bask in it
from the inside.
It’s lovely, isn’t it?
I got the chambers.
Show people.
This is more than disease.
We have a catapult to do.
We have to pull back from the world
and lift off
no interruptions.

How do we do this in today’s present times?
Let’s start with today.
You’re the symbol of the world on your computer.
You’re representative there.
Go for prompts
from the inside
and maintain that inner connection throughout.
A status to help me,
I’m after a center of quiet,
in my room,
on the stairs,
wherever.
I listen to myself,
but I don’t let thoughts crowd the day.
I learn to only let thoughts come that mean something to me.
I learn to hold thought at bay.
This is the quiet room,
and that’s what does our business,
and your actions spring forth
everything that needs to be done.
Passionately laid that,
and you can have fun.
You can even face disease
and square one get it right.
I’ve got all this lipstick on,
and I’m ready for you world.
Come on.

A society of books
brings us closer to each other than computers,
but they rub us out too
from our own plan.
I don’t know how to tell you this.
The present moment’s so precious, you know?
It’s what plans.
Can you see that?
Would you care?
I’ve introduced you to The Plan.
A computer generated AI system,
there it’s not.
It’s got time on it,
learning signals,
a this and that parade,
but it doesn’t take us to ourselves.
Now the Unabomber said this:
get rid of technology or I’ll kill you.
Really?

It has its place in our life.
It belongs there.
It’s just not the main event.
It’s not what we’re doin’.
It holds us barred
from the depths of ourselves.
We get fooled by it.
It’s the nature of the program to be advanced.
And you think so,
but we’re killin’ each other all over the globe.
Just look at the Internet.
Do you smile there?
We use it to bash each other in the head,
or sell our wares.
Hey man I’m hungry.
Will you give me your attention?
This all oh man.

I’ve got somethin’ else for yah.
It’s been our accompaniment all along.
Look at greatness through it.
I’m sorry this is not fantasizing your room.
Can you be alone,
a mind unto yourself?
Quiet or full of thoughts,
you have your time.
It’s all quiet there.
I think you’ve turned off music,
all electronic media.
Maybe you’re sittin’ in nature or your room,
or there you are at the park,
and all you are at the park
is one who’s there,
no newspapers, books, or crackerjacks
to put something in front of your face.
You can have an apple or some peanut butter.
You see what I mean?
Hours each day.

I clean house doing it
and cook dinner,
do my chores,
even out in town.
I watch kids doing it.
Now that’s a feat.
They’re hooked in.
Their media fills the room.
I don’t know where we are.
I’ll get us outta here Kelly.
I promise. [this and two above lines heard coming from Nitish’s cell phone]
You’ve heard my boy’s Free Fire.
Funny the node in the game,
where we are in the program.

Look I know you’re busy but
there’s another way of doin’ it.
We abstract to ourselves.
That’s how we look the book
when we do read.
That’s where online has its purpose,
a reading snow.
I don’t neglect copies in my room.
I come together on myself
inside of a flick.
Movies gauge me,
and I keep up with culture that way.
I right choice
and sometimes make mistakes.
Oh man and music,
I can get into some tunes.
It’s an absorption,
goin’ through the trouble of song.
A break half hour and I quit.
I let the nodes take me.

Now do you understand?
We do flexible,
and we do more quiet period
than technology.
I’ve explained myself.
Can you do it?

You can take away my pride.
You cannot take away my light. [Nitish just told me this right this moment, what he just composed, and in the middle of Free Fire. Kids]
Nitish, 11 this month

I Understand It

an illustration by Margaret C. Cook for a 1913 addition of Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

He did.
He figured it out.
You haven’t seen it.
Oh my God no one has even read it.
What is your name?
A holistic reader.
There’s a lot of censorship
of the ideas that make the world.

The world ran out of culture.
It couldn’t see itself.
It didn’t care.
It couldn’t come up with itself.
It just stayed where it was.
It didn’t know where it was.
It had no means for improvement.
It was small and intimate.
It was huge and dim.
It didn’t know where to begin.
It’s stomped on itself.
It raced ahead.
It lagged behind.
It wore horns no one could grasp.
We sit here and stare at it today,
just confused by what we see.

This was self-taught,
how we reach out and touch the world.
It didn’t come in the papers.
It wasn’t on the Internet.
No course in university taught it.
No book could grasp the whole.
It wasn’t in speech.
You couldn’t find it anywhere.

Everybody was afraid of it.
They thought it would bite them.
How to reach out and touch the whole
came from inner experience.
It was deeper than the world.
It really tested your boundaries,
and you had no choice but to surrender to its process.
It had your very being at heart.
It schooled you,
showed the inside of everything.
You never saw it completely.
You just handled it with care.
It would eat you alive
if you affronted its mission.

You understood it was a Larger you.
You saw it dream
a nation of particulars.
It gave you vision,
spoke to you with the inner voice.
You held it close to you
and processed its thought
into the unknown.
Great the days lay
the seat-point of vision.
You just studied reality
absolved in yourself.

You had no way to communicate this to men,
wherever you came from.
No poem would read it,
no prose spell it out.
The visual arts could not express it,
no drama act it out,
no dance routine show it,
even in its living room.
It was beyond itself.

If you got life that need a poet,
I’m your subject right here.
Now go floss
with the rest of that form.
You’ve left something incomplete.
If I just listen,
I’d find it out numbers me.
I’ve encountered a different verse.

Its form is amplified by common speech.
There is the line.
Give me back my lunch;
I can do nothing with the way it works.
See there
you’ve been taken in.
Now tell me I’m a Great Lake I’m ready to play.
Now tell me I was murdered.
You know I just heard the news and wrote it down.
I’m a five star hotel,
and I’ve got the muse
in poetry form.
I mean inner voices speak.
It’s the divine muse of poetry.

How raw and off the cuff.
It has every name involved.
It won’t leave you alone.
Now say I’m silly
understanding prose.
All is said
to top off the mountain,
to be a governor unto itself,
to let you fly in the word.
How could that be?
I don’t think I got all freaked out about it
as grey mountain.
The poetry of redemption lands here,
the upper money.

I will just let you fuck me,
give in.
I’m about to be homeless.
That death I was telling you about,
they take my sky away from me.
The ground of silence eats me up.
I become a Silent Mind.
Realization proves my calling.
There’s nothing else
to realize:
we’re in love
with the whole thing,
each business and everybody.
We grok this.

It’s standin’ on your shoe.
Great the papers play
in the immediate seat of your room.
Welcome to the lost word.
That’s the sound of silence,
a preface to Enlightenment.

A shortcut,
I can write it down.
What else
can we do?
Headphones surround—
you’re hearin’ the interior music.
You’ve opened up that wide.
Wrap up some milk
left you some poetry.
This is your ticket.

For you it would be nice
right here:
the grinding of the dog.
I’m a farmer.
This is my business.
I keep business spoken.
Pinecones have left to a civilization.
What are you guys?
TikTok
describin’ the universe,
time of missed a keyframe
and causality.
Whether you want to or not,
the movie echo system.
You said what?
Reality in this page.
I’m gonna listen to yah.
Good mornin’.

I’ll loosen poetry I’ll listen.
Find that way offshore.
But Enlightenment seeks.
Ask her about the whole thing.
Did you tell ‘im you’ll take the horses,
make that your team?
Not that saying but keep
outside science,
and never cry wolf.
Read my full exposed.
My hands are tied.
Make me feel better.
Make me feel so much better.
We’re in this cut;
at least our voices aren’t.
He actually science.
Cosmopolitan
I understood it,
no doubt.
He’s right in front of me.
I could sing up here for hours.

I have everything I need to start the revolution.
I’m a purpose.
I want a bigger world.
You can keep me out as long as you can.
I’m not gonna die.
I’m gonna change consciousness.
Look me over.
I’m real.
I am so very real.
You can’t get around me.
It’s reality I’m showin’ you,
all holistically laid out.
You can dance all you want.
Reality’s not goin’ anywhere.
It’s on the way to you,
even if you don’t want it.

Reality’s comin’ for you.
Hold your head up high and embrace it.
A poem with your name on it Marginalian.
Poetry works
I can’t ignore.
She’s busy,
clean up what happened:
showed herself a calloused human being,
with no feelings at all
for the man everybody hates.

There is no Whole behind the whole—
she shows you what that does to you
when you believe that.
You don’t have to love everybody,
and you can pick and choose.
You don’t even have to treat them human.
Your ethics just come from ground zero,
and you make ‘em up on the spot.

Okay Riviera,
let’s see you explore your consciousness.
Can you do that?
Wow, have you blocked things.
You will not be happy with yourself
on the other side.
Maria Popova,
live up to your ideals,
and that intelligence of yours,
taking it
to some encounter on the inside
you see the whole,
you see it all means somethin’.
Put your finger on it,
and let us hear your own source material.

Has the jacket,
a lonely packet,
of quoting the right material.
That’s starfish.
It says more than what you want it to say.
Okay I’m outta here.
I have to let you everything,
be a work in progress
understand human.
I’m reminding myself
of what I’ve been taught.
You can have this.
It’s a seer’s wisdom.
Handle it with care.

They were talking about
y’all are choosing the apartment
you’re gonna let this seer in.
I’ve reached out to so many people
over the years.
A big no they wouldn’t even tell me,
usually.
They just read me and tossed me aside.
Put up his banner,
that’s where we go.
Who stole the cones?
You know it’s not coming.
You’re here for the Rachel Carson.
Write someone back.
You never had more powerful that was the end of the game.

To Further Science

Lisa Joy Rottweiler

Yeah we went down to everybody’s but King Lear was here.
Spiritual enlightenment,
I’m past gold card.
It’s hung up in the bank.
I just keep getting tested I’m sorry.
Now we call on rabies to get vaccinated.
Will I die?
I’m a patrol boat.
I turn everything in.
I’m strong in squares.
Everybody’s down on me yes.

All night
jazz somebody.
Is it overkill?
I’m talking about the Frenchman in the harbor,
my toe
broadcast to the world.
The muse is my bedfellow.
Stranger coming.
And I hear the voices at night.
All along the shores of reason
this infinity swirls.
I’m a gust of wind called.
I produce alphabets,
stacking up reality in pictures
that are not what you usually see.
Can you reason with them?
I’m an explosive marinade.
I paint past pictures.

I’m edifying you.
Would you laugh in thought
or take my hand?
I’m a dumbbell.
How many reps can you do?
I mean read to understand.
We are for folks.
We sing loud and clear.
We are fro friend in need.
Look at this as a gift.
A microcosm,
I’m a twilight zone.
I do pronouns bigger than you.

There are voices behind this
bigger than me.
It’s all fountain keep.
I love it in the afternoon.
Who doesn’t want to sleep at night?
I get paid.
Divine love in boxcars
show me the way.
It’s substantial rhythm
taking my life apart
and going to harmony work.
I know my own business.
And here we are.

Rolling pin anyone?
I just got so much to say.
No problem,
he’ll be joining the first one.
How for?
How could I do that?
It’s so funny,
my moon face.
Social media,
I’m a strong count here.
Of course use me.

Everybody’s model,
now, this is gonna be difficult.
What baby?
We throw in the dog,
and Luna.
Well ride ‘em on my puppy is not as single as all that.
An emergency takes aim at afterlife.
Where’s Luna,
Bruno?
No this is
Lisa.
Lisa’s like that,
is a to herself dog.

Can I get to know her?
She’s easily put.
It’s hard to put you there.
This is exploratory duty.
You need to tell Lisa you care.
Talk and say things.
Your puppy’s not gonna
order her light bulb
in the next few days.
Well we love about her.
We adore her.
I mean sound her name
every time you turn around,
she’ll grant you
some special privileges.

Why can’t she go?
She likes it
so near you.
Is she suffering?
She has all this radio station.
She is so occupied with you guys.
A lot more wood
had to be put
into the system.
Just rises in
that is the toppest dog you’re hearin’.
Keep sayin’ her name.
Lisa baby
please come with me.
This is so close:
you’ve got to be human baby.
Lisa baby,
I’m on our way.

Venture,
wow, what a year it took
bulldozers
getting people outta here.
They not deserving and not needing
synergy,
the sadhana circle.
Can we grace them please
while they go?
I hear the heart in your room.
I’ve got this incredible heart of my own
you’re not balanced with.
Bye people, go.
We used to it,
taking advantage of Steve McCoy.
Now this affects her thinking.
This is written on our desk.

That’s what I’m gonna be doin’,
gettin’ into world thought.
I do that every day.
Now I have the plans for you.
I’m gonna move in
and question reality.
Save the country,
there’s something there.
There’s a being.
The people to become better.
The being to see the world as its friend,
educated
on family.
That’s the thought,
ride family
to everybody’s related on Earth.

We finish with this blog
Harm’s End.
When he goes back up here,
now harm’s end
I will reach you.
Get ready.
Now Lisa,
I’m going to find my dog.

If you wanna touch mark on the spiritual path and be seen by future doctors
help this guy get published.
A scientist
didn’t study reality.
A seer did.

The Minister Everywhere

Pope Francis in Rome, photo Credit: AP/Alessandra Tarantino

What is it about to see a priest?
Be reviewed by God
doesn’t happen.
You’ve just been given time off
from that urge to find God.
It satisfies your religious sense,
nothing else.

That’s the big lie:
popes and priests grapple for you God.
They are the wellspring
of our inability to find God.
You must believe in them or else.
Have I mentioned the clergy?

We think they’re holy men and women.
They don’t know how to tie their shoe:
be a system unto God.
They are a profession in a bank,
are not knowledge of God.
They can show us the way to enlightenment
very few.

What do you do with them?
Helping men and women for causes just
we give them credit for.
Something in them has a calling
they’ve mistranslated into religion.

They could go deeper,
and some have.
I don’t think you would find them in today’s textbook,
but I’m sure there’s one or two out there.

So are they obstacles to God?
In a manner of speaking yes.
Desmond Tutu would not find for you revelation.
You quote man’s ways
on his greater path.
You are not a stark naked outlook on God.

So, do we just find God ourselves
unaided from God?
What is a seer?
They’ve opened God unto their lives,
can express the spoken word
they hear from on high
or from their being’s core,
the hidden speech
that labors out the world.

It is not God talking,
but it is the sound of His voice,
clear with His meanings dim,
for God cannot inhabit human speech,
but revelations still come down,
and the mystic word gives us bright hints of God.
This the seer does.

You have heard him spoken in cities,
heard her upon the mountaintop.
Can you find the inner Guide?
That’s the clergyman in every home,
the minister everywhere.
Can we come to this?
Can we be unto God?
The minister of the Earth
God everywhere.