The Yellow Jacket

Nithish’s father
His family
Alright he will say a child of his when he was a little boy.
Do you know what it’s like
bein’ in this meat grinder?
You don’t have to wait;
okay knock on ‘im.
Think we can afford it,
moms beating health care?—
“I just throw you under the wheels of a truck
all laughter and sunny breeze.”

Please will you help me with this:
get this mother off my back,
a certain father?
Crushed the sun.
I counted the breeze.
What I was comin’ to yah to say:
I really bother yah.
I’m hell in an envelope
that you have to read past poetry
to put this on.

Well you’re not goin’.
Fine.
I get angry.
You wanna meet some hoodlums?
A gang member,
he gets all
King Richard,
the son of like true
to killin’ people like my father did.

I axe grow the taxes.
You wanna see me do it?
Just ignore this plea.
Get too far from the ashram,
my hat’s killin’ me.
Just close your eyes.
Ah, it’s gettin’
the footer at the head of the bed,
where I go out and kill someone,
a little older.
You’re yellin’ at me.
Cut through door.
You know you need to save me.

I hear it.
What did it say?
The you that you’re getting
put that foot down.
His mother’s beating him he’s in harm’s way.
The building blocks are there
in the pit of a gang
he murders people
when he’s old enough.

That’s what I’m tellin’ yah.
Stop this boy from being abused by his parents.
Let’s put ‘im
his grandfather heals,
or are you just too deaf to see that?
Get past the poetry
and rescue this child.
Get behind the verse.

Do you think that’s the only gang
with Nazi on it?
The fellowship
has turned Indian politics into mud puddles.
Trace the politician to the gang.
Leave ours out of it;
get rid of
the truth we hear speaking now.

My God you’re deaf.
Oh look there’s the BJP.
November
I’ll show you
I’m talk to you years ago
how the BJP
came from gang member politics.

He rides books sometimes
wide open
to the divine say.
Oh man I put you there,
in a poet’s mouth,
on a divine seer’s tongue.

Show his father
and his family,
WhatsApp,
see it work in my phone too.
I had the finish line.
I’m giving frequencies of his house, yes?
And now
get to the real thing.

They’re not real.
They are not real,
understand?
Not one person
is a gift to society.
This entire generation
being produced by society,
the families of society
in India and elsewhere,
gives us the skill set to journey on as society;
it doesn’t change society.

Take my arm here and understand my meaning.
Society must change or die.
India has brokered this for generations,
a spiritual consciousness,
a supernal air,
a soul arriving on the scene.
It doesn’t get past the starting point.
This is not gotten out of the bag.
A few individuals pretend.
Some have had experiences,
but none get to the root of the problem:
take a child and receive them at the door,
a baby born,
and change society with that child.

What would we have to do to engineer this
with that child?
Can I show you?
I gave Nithish
the principle changes,
not quite at the door,
but starting very early,
and I could do that because I could give him the attention,
and I have seen past society myself,
and I operate in that mode.

Listen to Nithish
where his dream maker meets the ground,
and you will see fantastic.
You will see the whole world changed
just by this boy’s dream.
Watch him have vision
you will not believe with your own eyes.
The Gods talk to him
and soul.

This is what he took,
that father.
This is what she beats,
that mother.
His light was snuffed out
by beatings and brainwashings,
and you worship your family or die,
and all this wonderful change
we were readying the boy to give you
has been ground in the dirt
and changed into thoughts of suicide and killing,
into about getting revenge
for what his parents have done to him.

He seethes inside,
and you’d have to find it to hear it.
He’s afraid to show anybody his feelings
for fear of punishment,
because I am the crux of the matter;
he wants to return to me,
and his parents will not let him call my name.
“I will shove that name down your throat
if you say it again!” his mother says.

He can’t deal with that anger,
and all his wonderful gifts
get crushed,
and in the place of love there is rage,
and in the place of change there is hate,
and he is mad at society.

Now you must see this
in a simple podcast
on dreams.
I will show you he had the formula to change the world.
I will show you what you’ve never seen before,
a sadhana watch as the functioning arm of society
not the family
(but the family’s still warm
and not abandoned),
a group of people in a dream circle
related by soul change
and small enough to function
together in daily need.
We are that prototype,
The Dream Company.

https://www.buzzsprout.com/1963514/episodes/15751474-the-dream-company-epospde-44

Today’s the Right Moment Nithish Discover Himself

photos by the author

A poem by S. Nithish

Ha ha ha! I have ran to the divine false—
call me a poet after 18+.
I have time to die.

I call myself the poet for my life through the end.
I am what do you call me,
what the godfather?
Oh no, that’s not me.
My character is at the lake, aka the divine.

I have asked the god to stay.
My life is always sour-like.

My mind turn the lights for my room,
draw the lights for my room.
I am going to wait for you through the light.

_______________________________________________________

Nithish
was taken from my home
and subsequently brainwashed.
I record that here,
the eye-opening of Nithish.
All you the pictures are aligned.

I will show his mother this,
a mother mentally unbalanced in the possession of her boy,
and all the abuse that has ensued
from her possession.
Find myself
giving him the blanket he deserves.
He will not look at me I know.

You’ve got,
the people that are helping me,
cosmic kitchen.
Show him
what he needs to see.
Show him himself in the mirror.

The first poem Nithish wrote months before he was taken from my home by his mother because I mentioned to her a video she had made of her youngest son doing a sex act. It is not just a prediction of the future, what will happen to him as a result of showing me that video and telling me its context, but it is himself talking to his future self so to overcome the brainwashing, gaslighting and abuse his parents have put him through because of betraying them to me in regard to that video and the sexual abuse of his little brothers by his father. He told me very private things about what was going on in the bedroom of his family when his father came home from Chennai on the weekends, and they have made him pay for that betrayal and for his love for me.

“The divine false” is his parents’ rule over him, him turning away from God and spirituality and putting his parents in that place. His mother has said he cannot see me again until he’s 18 or over, what “18 plus” means. When he speaks about “time to die,” he’s talking about not only the death of his former self, the real Nithish, but his thoughts of suicide, which he has had in all the trauma his parents have given him for loving me. He disputes that he has to wait until 18 to be a poet, what it means when he says he calls himself “the poet for life through the end,” and to understand the poem, you need to know that being a poet and me being his daddy, or really, his spiritual master, his inner poetry teacher, are intertwined. He’s also talking about not having to wait until 18 to see me again.

In spiritual vision I have seen that his father plans to have me killed and wants Nithish to approve of this, but Nithish has not told me this, but has called twice to tell me to go into hiding without explaining why, not recently though. His father has officially murdered four men in cold blood for his gang, a gang of Lawspet whose leader is a notorious man named Sironen. The gang now feigns to be disbanded, but it is not, and Sundar, his father, feigns to have left it, but he has not. That’s what he means by people calling him “the godfather.” and those people, the you referred to, are his parents. He is very familiar with American movies, and I don’t know if he has seen The Godfather, a movie about an Italian mafia family, but we have talked about that film together. He will not approve of this murder of me, because his “character is at the lake,” where we live, at Usteri Lake, how he refers to the location of our home, which for him is synonymous with the divine because it’s here he is coached in sadhana to realize the divine in his life.

The god he’s asking to stay is me, his spiritual master, and we are in a union of consciousness, on the level of soul, and if you don’t believe just read his poetry and mine, and I have the power to see inside of him, be there in his consciousness, and he can feel me there, and he’s asking me to stay, despite his outer self seeming to have forgotten about me, which the phone call I’ve described shows is not the case. He’s told me he can feel me inside when he was calling me in secret. It is a divine power, a power of consciousness, and you will only believe me when you question the child about it, but no one will question him, and no one’s allowed to.

Despite the special treatment he’s now getting from his parents, he still feels his life “sour-like.” He knows his mind is the key, as I’ve taught him that what he thinks he becomes, and here he’s trying to turn his mind to the light, and he ends by telling me, “I am going to wait for you through the light,” the light being all his poetry, and mine, that is trying to free him from the abuse and Nazi-like control his parents have over him.