Starting Point

The breathless crunch until the breathless cradle hits high air,
yoga limits above the currents,
fee-fi-fo-fum!
Gonna look forward to it.
Don’t get alarmed.
You’re a nice person.
This is not on your stool yet.
Jumping to get a head start
I’ll be arrested
being this little person in a little shell
exploding these bounds.

I don’t know where to put my see yet.
You’re not about a change of plans,
and I am an axe murderer among you
jumping in and cutting off the head of the snake.
I want a new worldview.
I want reality honored.
I want holism to rise among us.

Let me start where we hold most dear.
Let me start in the station of the room
we call square one,
right from wrong.
Are you in bed together yet?

I bleed this in the sky:
the unity of the wrongdoer
and whomever got hurt or harmed.
Can you see these naked clothes
oneness puts on us
where it touches our ship?

Pistol-whip the guy
oneness brings.
Stand on rooftops and sing.
Can you get out of your underwear
and know naked wrong?

Nobody understands me.
I want to hurt you
because I’m an answer to existence
bubblin’ up inside me
from hidden pain.
Can I toy with yours?
You suffer for it,
and I take my dick out and do it again,
arm harm.
I’ll shoot all you mother fuckers.

Who sees a child crying?
Who sees a function of the universe?
Who sees your identity with him,
and you’re also accountable,
and you’re also bear witness?

Who sees these roles?
Does the innocent child?
Does the baker and candlestick maker?
Does anybody?
Do you?

Can you count this to yourself?
Are we in the depths yet?
We have a view of harm’s end.
Deeper still.
I think we all go in there,
meet God,
the Unimaginable behind everything.

And we grasp ourselves deeper more.
Where are we?
There is no tellin’.
Take off the worlds.
Encompass more than Spirit.
Be there before God was born.*
Abide forever in motionless depths
we cannot fathom nor know,
and we found who we really are.

From the Alone in every face to the free from the Alone,
I’m controversial now.
That murderer needs ice cream.
I’m joinin’ spheres
so we can get out of darkness.

You would mistake the poet in the room
and let evil speak for us?
Conflasted guitar.
We all wear purple robes
and wipe our ass.

This is coming from the place beyond thought,
and it’s time to join darkness with its parent sun.
Not blinded by the light is the one who accepted my invitation.
We need to join the high and the low.
We need to integrate evil into our bedpan.

Can you count stars
and poke them through hell?
Yes this man is evil but he is us,
this woman a monster but she is we,
and even they are one,
the sudden genders.

Would you put me in your living room?
Thank you.
Vibrational frequencies
and a sudden way home
you are open.

Fishtails,
a sudden wasted mirror,
that’s the new password.
Confounded stars,
you don’t listen
there is adopted
the darkness at our breast
to make existence be.

People don’t understand
a light smote the darkness,
and it’s part of the picture
until we find us its hidden light.
I don’t throw anything
in your face to believe in.
Open your sudden eyes.

One second.
I’m the perishable end of the universe.
I confound you now with sudden God
right on our doorstep
immortalizing thought and sound
to bring the universe crashing down
to an epiphany of light
never seeing darkness again.
Can you imagine that on earth?

Holistic’s charged looks corner
melody,
we don’t defeat anything.
There’s more to the sky bridge than integration.
We have to do this ourselves,
overcome darkness.
We have to change our own hands,
or this bleeds red river,
and nobody’s safe.

I’m a hope bridge,
just some wrong-ass person changed to light,
and I see the way behind.
I’m an immediacy of change
wherever I’m at,
and this is my hip corner:
I win hope every time
I climb through this music once again
and exercise muscle to see it through.

It’s strength of will overcomes darkness,
not a thing else.
Can you grasp this with your hands
you wanting to change your darkness to light?

I do not bask in separateness,
but separateness is all around me,
in every eyes I look.
This is normal human,
so accentuated in America.
We have no hope for each other.

Community means a gathering of individuals for events.
It’s not intimacy and soul room,
and Lord help you if you bless the children;
Lord help you if you cry.
Alone in separateness
we’re tryin’ to find the door
to fulfilled living.

It’s not about moral precepts,
kirtans and stage room.
We can’t be admonished to be good.
Did you open your heart to me?
Did you take risks with me?
Did you sacrifice?
Tell me to leave again I’m not sure.

I’ve let my hair down.
I feel deeply me and you.
I know our oneness inside.
I’m waiting for the behest of Spirit
to tell me what to do with you.
That’s just leave you alone again
nine times out of ten.

So here I am again
talkin’ to your backdoor,
tellin’ you amazing things,
and all’s I’ve got is in trouble
for bein’ so confoundedly real.
Let me lift my voice again
in danger
but willing to sacrifice.

This is what is looks like when you’ve opened your depths
and found humanity.
This is what it looks like when you love the world.
This is what it looks like when you’ve found God inside of you,
but you can’t yet manifest him there.
I’m about your liberation,
because I’m on mine.
There, universe.

Under these fruitless conditions,
buffing the pitch is to stream.
Switch to
takin’ utility out of my voice.
All use important
hard to get ahold of.

This is wide on earth
when Earth is in narrow times,
unconsolingly narrow.
Oh countin’ sadhana to myself,
the broad sky,
fine dog,
fine indeed.

All the worlds mix in me,
this puny self that I am
who's opened imagination’s wings
with the virility of my hands.
I’m open to thought
the very angels sing
when they’re looking beyond God
to the Unknowable,
a metaphor for I am open I am.

I cough this up
right here on you
in-between worlds.
I have a date with Heaven,
death or beyond that stair,
right here in life realized I don’t know.
Can I grasp the dualities in enlightenment?

A fancy speaker,
yes,
but I’m talkin’ about where I piss to myself,
explode in the toilet some goo,
wherever guttural I am
and reached enlightenment’s wings.

You laugh and stay sober,
but I am drunk on spring wine,
a Bacchus in revelry
a hundred miles away
from all that shoot you.
I’m settled in poise
of the gatekeeper
considers my case.
I’m a candidate for enlightenment.

I don’t know the history of the word
I have spoken to you these many years,
the poet at the drop of a hat.
I’ll meet you on the road again someday I’m sorry.
This poet takes leave of you now.
I’ve got a quest to cross.
I’ve got a quest to cost.
I’ve got a quest to conquer.
Yee-haw!

*a poetic idea from the epic poem Savitri by Sri Aurobindo

Monkey’s Paw

Dedicated to Dylan, who turns three on July 5th

The emotional cost of suffering,
that’s just the same age as my three-year-old son.
Where do we light these lamps?
You can’t get at this with your green card.
Understanding dawns slowly,
or it doesn’t dawn at all.

Blow it out of proportion,
everything you see in a day.
We are present moment bound.
The rocks and the rivers and the trees and the forest,
they spend time with you there.
You can’t seem to sort it out.
The past is a distant mirror,
the future a scary glow,
and the eternal now escapes your grasp.

Did that just happen,
my childhood all in tatters?
I’ve learned to wear the good moments
my social persona.
Oh you bleeding heart liberal,
shut up.
I make even the liberals mad.

The child is what’s wrong with humanity,
your child you wear on your sleeve.
It’s all in a day’s work,
make that child behave and wear diapers.
Keep them out of our hair.
Oh fuck it’s duty time,
and even if we pay close attention,
we rob them of their feelings.

Don’t feel that feel this.
I want you to.
It’s a holocaust of toddler feelings
keeping them clean and pampered.
The Earth Mother approves
no, no, that’s free,
your self-exploratory muscle in the mud
pullin’ your own flowers,
you naked little thing.

It’s not all about socialization
or managin’ their time.
Do you want their attention?
I was gonna put a bridge on,
a warm, comfortable love free from the world
all available to you now.
Let’s get you cleaned up and eat.

The origin of sufferin’ in the breakdown of the bicameral mind, /
GooGoo and Gaga speak out.
It’s psychedelic in here you know.
We’re all over the place,
and those body feelin’s are meshed with the world,
and even the refrigerator has eyes.
Watch me bump my head and punish what I hit.
I fell down and the world made me,
sneaky fellow.

Alright fine, spank them,
and masters of the universe
has just defeated their life.
You don’t know the cost of touch here.
You’re not trippin’.
Fine, fine, we’ll put them in Montessori.
I don’t think you know the cost of raising a child.
Am I escapin’ reality?

Square one we need a new society.
It can’t be based on money it has to be based on children,
and the thought is God.
We are raising God.
Now put God’s hands upon the Earth.
Low and behold we have a new Earth.

In loving memory of Mugu, who would be 27 today.

Spiritual Dimensions

The Place of Poem Writing
My dog the bounding surf,
Luna lovely tail in tow,
she died you know.
Now I crave God,
who’s invisible to all get out,
who’s behind everything but not here,
who I can sense, smell and touch
but not put my finger on.

Let me explain this rhapsody.
The mountains bear Earth you see.
From a long ways off
wonder at their tops sublime,
wonder at their feet.
Now that’s God standing there
the everything you see,
touchable, feelable, palatable, real,
but you can’t get to ‘im, can yah?

He’s a mystery to you.
He can’t climb your dog
and fill the presence in the room,
be her bounding joy
your heart eats and eats
because she’s there
the love of her master.

It’s just a little spot on the world
that gives the world pedestals.
It’s so far from God,
so impossibly short.
What do I cave-in to?
What do I find,
the presence of God in love
when he is all around me
that bounding joy,
the leaves in the grass,
the wind in the trees,
the current in the river
and the river walk in me?

Oh God you are not jealous or lone.
You do not want to eat me a pumpkin pie.
You are not selfish and mean.
You are the earth and sky,
a mountain spirituality I can live
in the switch from spot to all.

The absence of my dog assails me now
and all the spots I’ve lost,
Lisa bless her heart.
Come God come,
step into my reality
only you.
God I await your commend,
your behest,
and let’s rumble
the earth and sky without you
until resistance is gone,
until no longer I remains but you.
That’s all I ask of thee.
The River I Saw

Passion of the Rainbow

Selfie a few days before my 65th birthday, which is today
What is a hands-on prayer?
Full of spiritual philosophy,
do this, don’t do that,
I won’t bring you to lunch.
I won’t even put my arse on the toilet.

Oh you offended seekers read on.
Can I hold God in my hands
the stadium of this moment,
in the guttural process be?
I don’t know where we begin.

I can’t find my soul
the laughable, lovable life I’m having.
All love is taken from me by death
and weary,
and I can’t find joy on the sun.
I can’t even find life.

I have split my mind
with silence ineffable,
sat for a moment in that nameless place
beyond Earth’s ego.

I have even climbed the heavens
in a seconds’ ride
to the space beyond stars
and sat in my true self.

I am not here to complain of God and soul.
You would not believe me anyway.
I want to meet God with life can I?
Not in a station up there,
but down here in living flesh
that does not appear an illusion.

I want to mate time with life,
and it doesn’t hurt or get boring.
Fill me with woods now I’m clean.
I’m on your dresser drawer
vying for true spirituality,
not plaudits,
not wise sayings,
not moral admonishments.

I wanna set myself on fire with the living God
and be down to earth and warm,
not disdaining life,
not rejecting it.
I want heaven on earth.
Do you?

My voice recording
realized ages ago
a tale had to be told.
Pardon me.

How many have drowned and seen God?
It’s not in your litmus paper,
fireballs from heaven.
I’m just this silly nigger among you.
I’m not allowed to cook at your ashram
or say grace
at a potluck dinner.

What do I do with community?
Everybody’s competin’ for the same pair of eyes.
It’s not pronounced yet,
but these are God’s love eyes.
How many hypocrites wear ‘em?
I just wanted the field to say.

I can’t get over myself.
I feel the claustrophobia of Don.
I feel the pain of the world.
You market too.
I know it.

I’m stuck in this little person
having bigger thoughts than I am.
I have seen beyond the veil,
but I walk the creek and cry for my dog,
where she put her paws.

I crawl through the fucking hours just like you,
listening for a laugh.
I’m not a kingpin.
The joke’s on me.
I hug the hours
what is this shit worth?
But I want comfort from them you know.

I caught God in a torrent
of this space is mine.
I plant my feet and sigh God,
wonderful to have this world guarding moment.

This just eats my lunch,
the walls of the present moment
that won’t let me see the eternal now.
I’m stuck in flesh.
I cannot climb out of this shell.
I cannot get beyond myself.

You laugh at me and point fingers,
or feel the compassion the sage feels
seeing truant man,
but I hold commerce with the universe,
and I am crowded with deity on the tip of my pen.

They holler at me in the world
and grab my hand,
and I know the stench of devils
and feel their blind assaults.

I hold my head up high in the pit of night
and do sadhana.
I call God down into my house
and know the wretched I have been,
and it’s with bowed head and extended prayer
I cry to the heavens God.
Come bake with me will you
God on earth.

Such limited character changes development.
I’m not a rosy fire-kingdom.
My sadhana is my pedestal
I balance the present moment on
to keep in those thin parameters
the divine name
only mystery speaks,
a firm and fast bewilderment
at the thoughts of God
taking shape
in the world in front of me.

All else assails there.
All else comes from there,
or I am robbed there
by my own insufficiencies.
Why do I play in the yard?
I ask zero that question
and grab myself by the balls and move on.

I’m in line with the Earth,
and I don’t throw the Earth away to meet God.
The Earth is myself,
and we are all climbing out of the Void.

I hold identity with the Earth,
come rain or shine,
and that’s how we form Earth,
together,
encompassing the world to find God,
reaching out of the universe to bring God here,
hands-on God,
the eyes that we look out of
and the hands that we use.

Needs spiritual experience
wants the dragon response back to his house.
Who’s pic do you follow?
Hands on fate now.
It’s time to get past
lawsuits.

You just comb what was expected of you.
I challenge the world
and then pick my nose.
My overdo’s, my out of dates.
[vision with the line of Sri Aurobindo seated looking at me in one of the last photos of him taken]
photo by Henri Cartier-Bresson, 1950, courtesy of the Sri Aurobindo Ashram
He’s got a principle pair.
He’s bigger than skylight.
He’s my guru,
has a leading voice in my poetry,
is the principle behind my music,
is who I look to for divine change.

He’s open-minded and warm,
and I been with ‘im a long time.
I do inner contact sadhana,
right before your eyes.

I don’t sit and guess upon the world.
I get my hand held,
but I’m a rebellious student.
I question and accuse,
lift mine eyes to the heavens
and tell the Gods off.

I give him a hard time.
I hold him to his task,
am livid and rude sometimes,
but I love him dearly
and follow him on nails.

You don’t know what’s been asked of me,
the role I have to carry.
There is no forgiveness among men,
nor mercy
for being left out in the cold.

I am principle love.
Not a person has it really.
I put you to the test.
You only care the pool of men.
The love of God you distain,
yet I go on,
wearing the vermillion caste mark,
the scarlet letter.

You would be jealous if you knew the score.
You certainly would never believe it.
What I lose from men I get with God,
companionship, love, and hope,
to a degree you don’t know possible.

Now I’m in your neck of the woods,
a long time ago repented of my sins.
Big fucking deal—
you’d rub my nose in it anyway.
You’re incapable of being ought than you are.
You have not the oneness inside.

You do not love God you love your morality,
and you are good to the good, bad to the bad,
forever more amen.
You want punishment and castigation.
You don’t know the law of healing.
You can’t stand it.

I have healing ways.
I’m a doctor of behavior and attitude,
of the soul heals.
I will die with my knowledge unused.
You don’t know the value of such things.
You spit on it.

Doctor of the soul,
where the soul leads the way,
is the therapist and changer of man,
that is what I bring among you.
It doesn’t come easy.
You have to have a need
naught else but healing.
It will take years.

You guys do me a favor.
Come through my poems.
It’s all in there,
but most have been taken offline.
When I die open them up and read them,
and then put my name in the list of life.
Include me again in your society.
I did the work you wanted me to do.

You would be pleased I suffered.
Oh, I suffered,
threw myself up against your heart so many times,
cried out to God in pain.
I’m showin’ where we’re stuck in the ways of man.
No one sees it.

There are more of us than I can bear,
hated outcasts,
and I am the heart of humanity
shoulderin’ the world.

This is the place you need to work,
right here,
to change the nature of man.
Right here today
I give you the example of sacrifice.
Fire away,
take away my world from me,
again.
I’m showin’ you what love looks like when it’s in your hands,
and know I love you.

Marriage of soul and Earth,
I thought it was attracted to something beautiful.
It’s the most guttural, physical location there is.
We’d need to make plans.
Where are you going?
My butt’s yours man.
All for one and one for soul.

I could get worse and I could get chicory,
but we do business with the Earth you know,
and we all share this intimacy.
You got God there watchin’—
oh my honey child,
it’s all my plan.

I feel coverage beating on the roof of the world.
I’m not smiling.
This is so crash and burn.
I don’t know how to reconcile this with God,
the holes in the program.
It’s bigger than me,
but God is here my friend,
like this is the Void,
and he can’t get at it in his shoes.

I’m not worried about that.
I want to mate my life with God
in everything I do.
How does this play out in the world?
We come upon a change of consciousness,
not just worship God.

We take God’s coverage and go there,
until we look out the eyes of God.
I have,
and I’m tellin’ yah it’s greater than enlightenment.
Mountains are movin’ me there now,
that way station of enlightenment.

You would laugh and tell jokes—
who does he think he is?
Can I just be plain water?
I’ve reached bare earth.
I’m not haughty in my mind.
I see myself and whistle Dixie,
the idiom dear not the racism.

Nothin’ I do is great or small,
and I can hold my dick in my hand and not play with it,
but that’s not all I’m after.
I want to look at you and not be offended
by I’m such a shit to you.
I don’t want to hurt by it no more,
feel the pain of this earthen outcast.
You are mean you know.

Terrible my time with you
I do not speak right,
and you are so hung up on speech,
get offended at the guttural word.
I’m loud and clear
it takes willingness to change.

Get off your high horse man
and meet us at the river,
where even naked we’re not ashamed of ourselves,
and we do not harm one another,
but where the wild things are,
myself and all these people,
who’ve torn you a new asshole
interpreting God anew.
The river my friend,
will you join me?

A cyclic poem,
I pull myself up on the crap all the time,
and here I am writin’ down wood.
I’m bustin’ your balls.
I should just go swimmin’ with you
in everybody’s freeway.

Can we reach each other at guttural need,
or are we alone inside that’s it?
We play ballgames here.
It’s not divided up in sexes.
It’s not even wrong.

The New Jerusalem is galvanized
on we lift up you and me.
It doesn’t falter it doesn’t shame.
We heal through change of consciousness,
and we love one another.

Are you ready to buy this thing?
This cycle
I un-stigmatize God,
the lover of all of us,
the inside and outside of every situation.
I hated it there
until I realized what it took to change.

I smell soup.
All these cut up ingredients,
they’re in the zero God,
right there to form the ingredients
of the long-awaited paradise on earth.

Fool my ass,
I’m joinin’ reality with heaven right now.
You got them balls?
They’re skyrockets,
my love made real.

Fine, I’ll wait.
You’re gonna be up in my room
either here or in heaven on earth:
ah, ah, a neighborhood
this got foreseen;
this was available for everyone;
are you risking your life?

Blockbuster down
and not one single person to help.
Oh vagina.
Now let’s grab by the bones
and grow taller than mankind.
Okay brotherhood?

You just get offended at plowshares.
I’m followin’ my inspiration right.
This is not sex do the poem.
Okay Goldilocks?
Alright man,
I’m not dangerous help.
Without a muffler
I brighten the thoughts of God.
If you haven’t noticed he’s a character.
Great Scott!
they kicked 'im out of town.

Where We’re Camped

photo by the author

Look at God.
Some of us are too busy to look up.
I wanted to say that God is silent,too invisible for us,
too round about the chain.
I don’t know how to reconcile God
with the need at this moment,
and would if I need community,
a flesh and blood moment?
Do the mountains care?

How do I find God in the hours
the substantiality of a reality in front of me
I can hold, touch, and feel?
Give up my attachments and longings
so I can meet naked God,
where does this happen on earth?
I can’t find him
in the rowboat I’m in.

I hear a voice
explaining to me things.
Visions give me knowledge.
I have the substantiality of this playing card.
It keeps me company more than men.
Sometimes I glimpse God through the rafters.
I capture for him my eyes seeing things.
Doubt has been removed
he is there.
I’m not playin’ silly putty,
but where does this cross the line into flesh?
Where does this reality bear down on me
God is there the world is not,
the face of the world wears God?

Where do I find this?
It’s not make believe.
It’s the reality I seek.
My wife has told me of enlightenment
where God becomes real in the world,
but when I was there all I saw was emptiness
and an illusionary world,
just like the Buddha said.
I was flabbergasted
entering ego again.
I could not deal with the illusion.
God was no reality there.

How do I reconcile this with time?
Have I arrived at God now,
so that enlightenment would bring me God?
Knowledge speaking inside me says yes,
but let’s put enlightenment as a criteria to meet God,
and we’ve put impossibility into our mule,
the rarest thing on earth.
A person who’s been there can say that.
This is beyond the world.
Three times I’ve stepped past the threshold.
I didn’t comfortable.
What’s going on?

Maybe this
put God on my table,
and now I’m waiting on the full picture.
I can’t get past this moment
of being uncomfortable
with all these feelin’s
of being terribled by life,
the pain of this moment,
the vulnerability,
in every face I see.
The human condition assails me.

I am grasping world pain,
and I do not like it there.
So enlightenment
is so far away,
God the distant grandstand.
I don’t care if you believe me or not,
I have a gift:
the world,
and there it is your identity.
It cannot be thrown away,
but are bigger steps God?

Hey world,
my very self,
we’re there.
If you stop hittin’ me maybe I can see it.
This chapter about
anybody home?
Take off your shoes.
Put ‘em in the corner.
Can’t see why you won’t look at me.
Well I’m putting back
it’s not so bad right now.
Conversion clinic,
conversion 13,
you doin’
a lot of things that hurt,
and I am wonderin’ what’s next.
There’s more
wallop me upside the head?

There’s a car dealer.
To thee I was a flyin’.
Now that I came back from,
I strongly suspect you’re arms God.
Who knows complainin’,
my goodness,
might rob me of a strong sword.
Now how do I greet the day
pain in my tennis shoes?
Greet the world with a poem.
Can you believe that God?

Have to do
my flip-flops.
I’m gonna take ‘em off.
So much easier than tied shoes
goin’ indoors to the common room.
Do you understand that ditty?
Buddy,
when you had to take your shoes off in community,
I’m one step ahead of you.
Mount Everest just came by.

I saw the guy did you?
We’ve been to the marketplace.
We’ve been to the moon.
Where will we go next?
In your living room
my sweet, wonderful world,
in your driving car.

Sophisticated,
you have to let it go.
He doesn’t believe in it.
Voices wrote this poem and voices end it,
good voice,
so honey
with this guy’s sweat and blood.
It’s a poetry
to help light the fire
of inner revolution.
Inner witness,
I remember you.
Hear that reader?

Juice on the table
from hot water,
we’re gonna sell it
to even the children.
Chris says I earned it everything,
everything
buddy there
reading my poetry.
He gives it all away,
amazing
volumes of poetry.
Gonna look back on
and see the price he paid
For All Mankind.
In this episode
he just walked through the spacecraft.
What sees you?
Tell me your story.

The Last Caballo

Nithish found this hand-sized, laminated card with other numbered cards of the same type in an abandoned bus in the forest of the International Township of Auroville, India, just off Crown Road, photo by him
We are at the kingdom of the beginning
of this beautiful brand new day.
Let’s fix it
you are not alone in the Transcendent.
I don’t know what to drink.
I am soft and warm and mean and skinny.
I plough through my room.
I don’t know the time yet.
I just spit on people.
I stick my neck out
for the razor type.
I’m loud and boisterous,
but I’m quiet near a river.

The lonely mountains see me pass
a branded name.
I’m stuck in mud.
I shine all day.
I run horses around stakes
because I am one.
I don’t like cowboys.
They’re just stupid and mean,
and I’ve seen too many dead ones.

I cry all damn day
but laugh in front of people.
I know my soul as a thin wraith inside
that splits my hairs,
and God above is a joke really
I look at with my serious face.
What is the meaning of life
in a neigh?
Tell the world that I’m here
buen provecho.

Can you call humanity here?
Is this the mass of men?
Is this all of us
bereft of spiritual change?
Grace Memorial Hospital
liberation
is in caballos,
the monumental effort we put in
to go past our limiting reason,
to overcome our desires and principles,
to be ourselves
where soul meets Earth.

How do I do this?
With a massive effort of my everyday life,
changing the fronts of my being
from the ground up.
It’s opening the inner consciousness
and be aware of our subliminal selves,
and this extends into sleep,
what we become conscious of
the more we grab each night.
It’s a change of character in man.
It’s so much more than meditation and pranayama
or digging toxins out with asanas.

It melts your ego
over and over again
over a good many number of years,
but we do have history of the immediate lesson.
How do I gauge this to you?
It’s inner work
completely see how you’re constructed.
You become conscious of all.
What gives it the spiritual ride?
Understand God you understand
and begin encountering him in the world
from the depths of yourself.

This is concrete and real
when you reach that stage it’s active,
but these are not just thoughts of God.
The substance of your consciousness change
as you approach the Silence and take down the ego,
and you begin to see the world through the spiritual consciousness. /
You know it’s there.
Even your feet surrender to this call.
You reach into your subconscious
and illuminate those rooms.
You know the origin of your acts.
You see how your nature became twisted or torn,
and you see the repair being done
by the soul witness within you.

You’ve grown bigger than ships.
You know how it happens,
world process,
now that you see how your own self is made.
These are beginning moorings
to enlightenment’s doorstep,
to the soul is the beginner of yourself.
There is an on high,
but enlightenment is a grave molecule to get there
when you are flying by the seat of your soul.

Now where is that last caballo?
Fred,
Freddie!
Where is the last man on Mars?
A whole ship failed,
and that planet died.
Spiritualization did not move their keel.
They refused the process evolve.
What is the fate of the Earth?
It is written in your destiny young woman,
young man,
and the great spiritualization has begun
in the interest of the young
to reach beyond society and see what’s new.

They don’t know spirituality yet,
but oh my God planet they will.
Good.
Here’s a poem
to knock you around in battle,
to help light up the way.
It’s so much more than diet and exercise.
Can you see the divine in your face?
Alright crawl there
from the look of divinity in another person.
Look I’ll meet you there at the library store venting
this is all too much for our kind.

It’s a bubble test.
It goes beyond Mars.
See yah on the other side kid.
Not a million miles away.
Alright who done it?
The Earth itself
in great big leaps of mankind.
Send us there
before it’s tomorrow and it’s too late.
I would imagine
there’s plenty of blood on the floor,
and the 5th is not even in it,
but what about this morning
when you saw your hope rise with the sun?

Dawn we see the package.
I’m here reading this book.
Suddenly I provide.
I provide a dispenser,
short bottleneck though it is.
Is anyone flowerin’ yoga?
If there was a law there’s no compliant.
There’s just dueling banjos,
but look toward thine angel now.
Look homeward and up.
So it’s got at least another tick in there,
world matter till dawn.

On the spool of our hopes,
on the livid of our dreams,
we engage thee our spiritual morn.
We just swept the car.
I’m embarrassed.
I have not stood there with my might yet,
but my goodness horses here I come,
and we’re on fire
with everlivin’ need.
You there,
you understand?
My new room and workstation

The New Giants

Luna in the woods, photo by the author
Grab a nice haircut
these rolling pins.
They know how to handle the vital in certain situations,
the ones where they meet the real world.
Do you call them cough suppressants?
It’s not about denial anything.
They lift up the world.
They love it into being.
Did you know creation is starlight?
They are on the forefront of that.
They don’t waste time.
Even sleep they use to their advantage.
They are not kingpins.
They have a guru master
guides them every day
where their inner being meets the world.
It’s inner contact crisp and clean.
It’s the inner consciousness guide,
and they soul with the world.

How big are their thoughts?
They carry Earth.
This is every day.
Civilization,
well they feel inside,
like they have evolved with man
through every Kris Kringle,
amazed we no longer live in caves
and now live in modernity.
They are the house of humankind.
They’re on the whereabouts of man.
They hold man tight,
are all over its feeling
joining God there.
They intercede for man
in the harshness of his journey.
This is wide open fire,
and they can identify with the rule and the snake,
wanting what’s best for the peoples of the Earth,
wanting freedom to be and to choose
the greatness of each individual.
They’re seeing what they need to do to change
and be the staircase of man,
the help in his endeavor
to have compassion for all
and bully no one.

This is their strange keeper,
these heroes of the thought of man.
They reach out for the growth of everybody,
even those we despise
and call evil.
This is their special operation,
but they can confront evil in the world
and make no bones about it.
They can see behind the scenes
and reveal evil in its place.
You will not find them safe here.
They expose evil.
Alright I’ll send it to yah.
You are very selfish.
I don’t know it’s been fusing.
Leave this to yourself;
get married and have kids;
do not stand up for
these divine fools;
throw them in the clink
with your fumbles with love.

I don’t know it has any power,
the system we wear in shoes
to put the name of the Lord on.
This world here will eat you alive,
but I’m game.
I give God my all.
I don’t throw him in the dirt.
Come on,
get goin’.
I’ve heard some living out here?
We go to school.
Do you call your name Mrs. Kravitz?
He put no.
Well I am about your bed.
I’m at the end of your feet.
I test the ground of your heart.
We’ll give it to yah,
a safe haven.
It goes through the community;
it goes through the communication
in honor to meet the jump rope.

I’ve really crafted it the way it is
says the community ring.
All the raccoons are pretty.
Please stay in the car
Luna.
She just had a…
There’s something over there.
There’s something else.
She knows that you’re protecting her.
Luna in this exploratory relationship
do business
as members of the community.
Can you come over here?
You’re a mountain clan.
Will you please deal our dog right?
She never leaves our side.
No fenced in in the backyard for her.
No putting her on some chain.
She is our honey child.
Let her walk among you.
She’s walkin’ to her next life human,
and you can you grasp that with a dog?
Their soul rang out
you’ll move ahead
letting me be by my masters.
Do you see the relationship?
Good.

I’m just leavin’
for my own house in the woods.
Participate
in your wholesome community.
Alright I will not roar
my own special status,
but will a poet be admitted?
And in his verse is a new society
for a better world.
Can I be a poet among you
challenging the way we do things?
This gets me in trouble,
why I’m here.
Douglas and I are searching goals here.
We’re looking for a better land.
That okay?

Days of unity,
all this is a unity project,
and we’re not just separate neighbors,
nor alone isolated individuals
in a world.
We are everything,
and everything is us.
We are part of oneness’ clan.
We cultivate that help.
We live that example
a sacrifice doin’ it,
not a free-for-all,
not a give everything away,
a balanced, measured diet of oneness
that knows our strengths and weaknesses
and our own importance to the group.
We are learning oneness as we go along,
and great that field play.

Fifteen seconds ago
forces of power moved us from our home,
the power that destroys lives.
I was writing poetry on the beach.
It angered the local kingpins.
They threw away the Constitution and got rid of me.
We fled in haste.
We are refugees.
Can you put that into your hat and smoke it?
Can you consider us with kid gloves?
Thank you kindly.
It is our effort to be kind too.
We’re in the woods,
the place we wanna be,
the place we feel asked for us,
if you can see correspondence in roadways.
This is exciting for us.
This is wonderful.
This is joy in the Lord.
Everpresent,
he is our refuge.
He is our one at hand.

We’re forgetting
how huge he is with you too.
It’s just isolated stupidities
in the greatness of the Lord.
We bask in him
and turn our trucks towards him.
Hallelujah you do too,
and we are thankful for that.
God is great.
God is wonderful.
God is our sudden being
in the fullness of time,
and all of you,
yes we see your indwelling divinity.
We see the One that you are.
We see mystery behind your eyes
that gathers all existence unto itself.
Sometimes we have to pinch ourselves to find it,
but we endeavor never to slap you forgetting it.

How does a poet ride evil then?
How does a poet point out a needed change
and not neglect his power,
her force?
With no hate,
and the whole poem will tell you what it’s about.
I’ve been here,
to the Lord’s altar,
and I heard what to say,
and meditate
on what I have written.
It doesn’t go lightly my Lord.
Have a good night.
Have a beautiful day.
Have a glorious day.

We go out.
We go down.
These weapons in our hands,
this is why
we last well with each other
if our weapons are not hurting other people.
Om to find One,
I slept in Om.
I did not just shoot somebody
with no regard to their safety.
I challenged them
to put goodness on their pathways,
to champion the thought of love,
to broker peace between us.

Can you get that right?
Not everybody will be pleased.
Some will say you’re wrong.
How do we change then,
if it’s not put before us?
What is nonviolence in speaking?
Sometimes you have to will to change.
Sometimes you have to go the distance
to give someone a mirror to look at
to honor
the gateway to peace.
Is that size up?
It’s not puttin’ anyone down
in mean speech.
It’s not striking out in anger
or blind reaction.
It wants someone to see themselves
and make change.
With some it is impossible,
but you follow the Spirit’s lead.

I’m here, I’m here
to help you remember
you have these tigers,
and you know you never change.
The impossible seem the odds.
Then the Lord comes to you a gifted angel,
holds your hand,
looks into your eyes.
The startling he is there
will wake up the most slumbering sleeper,
will knock your fucking socks off,
will make you cry in submission
to the mercy he offers you.
I am that man;
I am that woman,
complete now in the genders I wear,
hallelujah,
and uh,
birth control,
no bad comes from my hands no more.
Both dammit
sacrifice for the good of all.

How else can you describe killing a part of yourself
that was as natural to you as rain?
Herein lies the crux of the matter:
in every single part of ourselves,
in every single fiber,
speaking of the human being in all its parts,
mountains can go wrong.
You can be defeated by yourself,
murdered by your own breezeway,
killed by your cells.
Pity we have
for bodily and mental challenges.
We have none for the heart
when it goes awry.
We have none for the hands
that obey an errant heart.
We punish those people,
get rid of them,
but we fail here.

Love thy neighbor no exceptions,
and a cancer patient,
someone with down syndrome,
has the wheels of a disease
that also someone lost in behaviors we abhor
has in the house of their being.
Freewill’s at stake,
and it’s the issue here,
but not confronted with this disease
how can you hate and judge my friend?
Animal ways breed animal man,
and when you kill someone for doing wrong
or slice them with punishment’s scalpel,
you’ve carried out the wrong they’ve done.
By the witness of the crowd
and with its consent
we bury humanity here.
We tear asunder our house.
Separate the people you need to separate
if their behavior’s eminent,
but treat them as lost children,
not monsters and vile things.

Dr. George Washington Carver
was a miracle among you.
The Earth spoke to him softly
of healing need,
but he was a negro,
when that word was in fashion,
when Jim Crow ruled his land,
when he was hated and looked down upon
for being black.
What a choice God chose for this man.
He lived up to his day.
He stood tall and strong.
He heard the plants speak,
the clay and flowers around him.
He heard the inner voice,
saw visions of these things,
and we prized him for it.
Some had prejudice to overcome,
the strongest of their day.
Pardon me ma’am.
Pardon me sir.
I am of this vehicle made.
You are hearin’ my voices speak
in a miracle of love.

I am the thought of this day
to bring healing and remedy
in our moral world,
in the disease that afflicts the heart and hands.
Are you prejudice and blind?
It’s the same today
as it was yesterday
in how we perceive our fellow man.
We hate him for being this thing on earth
he didn’t choose.
The Earth made him that way,
the elements of man.
Now I bring great healing
upon the Earth
for those with eyes that see.
Inner voice led me to it
and the vision of God.
I walk with Mr. Creator like Dr. Carver,
my walk just as deep in intensity.
I differ in skin color and mode of religion,
and I work with different elements.
I am here for the morality of man.
Is that too terrible today?
Is that wrong?
Is that okay?

They’re at Conservative National Forest,
and it’s real lively here,
in a time capsule.
People go about their business here
in their own brand of music.
If Saint Francis of Assisi is their patron saint,
they abhor animals in their court,
and they’re holding court with the Timeless,
not allowing him inside.
This is grand design.
It’s rigid here and far flung,
but leeway is making a living.
Let the flowers speak!
I haven’t heard this yet,
and they’re borrowing on marked time.
Conscious group process
is a recovery.
It’s not on those lines yet,
but I do think they see it.
I just don’t know if they’ll let it in.

Our first name was Alex.
Their stories fit in line,
oh my beautiful sisters from Columbia.
This went on.
You said it so.
Judith introduced us to community.
Strong lady.
I brought her back
to her impersonal witness,
and these are healing powers she has.
AJ,
who chops wood here and keeps the fire,
phony especially
he doesn’t bother to imitate.
He’s a lot more younger
than his 77 years.
Can we count on him?
Like you can the blue ocean,
and you need fish,
but time of course is our regard.
Where have I gone with these people?
See the example of love that they give
right off the bat.
The basis of love has changed
I think in the wider community.
Continue.
I’ll get if for you
with even the nobodies and me’s,
with every single community member.
Now there’s your introduction to love.
They teeter there,
and it happens to snow.
A peaceful community lines these shores.

To warn other residents this is actually happening.
Tell ‘em we’re ready pop the firecrackers.
Old standard apply,
I’m tryin’ to show you truth.
You blew it.
All the way here:
I don’t know the lows can I shoot you
Florida ask our tailgate,
conservative Floridians.
I’m a writer of verse.
When we arrived in your community,
we relied on chance to save us.
You were too green for this,
and I went right into a political meeting
about our predicament
opposing Trump—
the very first day I arrived.
What a sight for sore eyes.
No, no, you can’t talk here;
we have an agenda.
And we’d just escaped Florida by the skin of our teeth.
Well, if you wanna know,
this one is about profound compassion.
I didn’t live up to it
until I then saw them
in my home.
You didn’t have the patience.
You didn’t.
You might wanna repose,
settle down,
music man.
He understood.

I’m hopin’
we don’t have to go through indoctrination
to sit at the ashram and volunteer.
Leaking out of this box
glad to be uncomfortable
with somethin’
that calls itself the same name
but has a different teacher.
Can I even say I’m a disciple of Sri Aurobindo?
Thirty years.
I’m not a wasted duck.
Now see my mantra
within your mind shy Ram beyond be said
and see I’m doin’ sadhana.
Can I go to your church?
Alright this is satsang.
People been holdin’ their stories behind this.
Losin’ all your glory,
there you go,
I think now we can sing.

So I’ve landed.
So I’ve come here from a long ways.
Do you know how to dance lower than you are?
This is my piece of cake here.
I just want them to know I love,
and I’m a handy man around the house.
Poetry’s a stick in the mud.
It’s not their wax paper.
It’s not their hole in the ground either.
I think those things are old peoples’ photos,
who grafted this community
from a peace on earth vigil.
Poetry is of the Spirit.
Ya’ll have fun
I was reluctant to say.
Five thousand and something,
I’ve reached a breakthrough there
in poetry.
I’m not the only one.
Thanks and cough syrup,
you’re hollerin’ in community.
Just keep the garbage squared away and you’ll be fine,
and probably don’t eat the squirrels.
Poetry will buttonhole later.
Who wants to eat?
I guess I’ll be their good cook,
but I don’t sprout my beans first.
Oh well.

Okay the finals is not typicals of the
the community here,
world community.
How do we change ourselves into an image of the indwelling Lord?
How do we be our soul on the surface of ourselves?
How do we become spiritually enlightened?
Do we know the difference
between being enlightened
and being up on ourselves?
What is the soul change,
and where is our divinity?
Is that the indwelling soul,
or the secret, hidden God overhead
the soul leads us to?
Where do we find God
as these hapless creatures on earth,
the God of the whole
that can bring us to our summit selves
and cherish our lives with us
as we are now
and be that constant companion


that we look to always?
Where is he our Lord,
and what about a mother’s might,
this sweetness and safety of her breasts,
and we are little ones there,
really, really comfortable
with she is our whole world?
Do you hear me Stephen?
Do you hear me world?

I’m game are you?
I’m sittin’ on the sofa
right here in God.
A change of nature I have made,
not enlightened,
and I am not yet my divinity,
but the soul has power
to express itself in verse
alive in God.
Even if it’s just to the woods
my voices ring,
I’ve found the Earth here,
and I treasure it in my hands.
Oh my dear brother,
sweet sister,
will you?

Transcendence

photos by the author
If you are reading this poem on a phone, note that the integrity of the lines, a major feature of poetry, is not displayed properly. Many if not most get cut short because of the small screen.
I don’t know I think freedom is dangerous.
It gives us a timetable
to revolutionize society.
So we need to?
Did Trump invade Poland?
(like, does a bear shit in the woods?)
We have no greater need in society,
but this is not about politicians.
It has our housewares on it,
our everyday lives.
We need to change society
into what’s good for all,
into a whole nuther way of life,
where we can live out our potentials
and be ourselves.

That dose not include harming other people,
unless their harm is so immediate
to harm them now is the only way to stop it,
deadly force if necessary,
but you would kill me here.
They’re not death penalty do
or given any harm
that protecting us does not render.
These are separation lists
if this is another set of circumstances
other than the absolutely must be stopped now,
and here’s where we need to change:
every person’s valuable in our eyes,
has the right to be and coexist,
and no person is excluded
from this list.

It is only there we can find ourselves
in our worth.
We have potentials unknown,
unguarded,
and unguessed.
We are not here to swat flies.
Our purpose in living is beyond time,
but let’s get back to the wood,
shall we?

We are larger than ourselves.
We do not live in a bubble of individual freedom.
Our consciousness extends to the whole race
and includes the Earth in its habitat.
We share consciousness,
and our thoughts and our dreams ride the waves
of humanity’s spleen-basket.
We touch each other there.

Any investigation will prove it
over long, slow years.
A group of people living together will prove it,
who bear the remembrance of their dreams
and inner experiences
on a daily basis,
through their group.
Interpret your dreams is the first thing,
and this puts us back to square one.
No one can see this part of the shared field of consciousness
occurring between us every day.
It’s in symbols.
It’s not readily apparent
except in rare instances.
It’s not literal.

How can I interpret my dreams for you?
Can I speak ahead of my time?
We will see each other’s dreams
tear humanity down
and make a better humanity with it
all in good time.
We will see that the thought creates the act,
our thoughts in someone else’s action,
and we are at most fault here,
not understanding the collective will
bleeds harmful individuals
as much as it does those who are right.

We die here.
We lay blame here.
We have no idea what’s goin’ on.
We castigate
we confuse.
We are not in ourselves right.
You share identity with that larger man.
On the level of ourselves we are one.
Even in our individual consciousness
we bear the individuality of the whole.
We share identity
like we do rivers.
This is visible as the Self
you can even see in your mind,
play with in your heart,
before the change of consciousness ahead.

We are not here to remain the same.
We have duty
to change our very nature.
We are animals now
in a field, in a pack.
Herds upon herds of us
distinguish man
as nothing in particular
except the animal that lords over all,
destroys its planet
with so many feeding spaces.
It’s not a steward but a wrecker
of its planet and society.

Go into any home.
Animals lick their wounds,
feed and enjoy themselves
and prepare their young
to abstract survival as they have done
into the modes of man.
We do not create a larger type.
We make our children toe the line
of being human today.
We have no imagination ahead.
We can’t get our children there,
break out of this mold
of stupid us.

We have larger fields ahead,
ever preparing their day to come.
Very few heed that call.
Religion has been a placebo
convincing us we’re there.
You can work on yourself every day
and never find it.
It’s bigger than the moon
and the starlight,
but you can get there from here.
Anyway,
you have to make of your daily life a pilgrimage
to discover all that’s hidden inside,
to look at the outside in those discoveries,
the glasses of change,
and become yourself the larger man,
a lifetime’s endeavor.
That is not bound by belief.
You experience, you know,
and you move forward.

There are changes in consciousness ahead.
You will meet the Silence,
eventually,
and it’s within your arms to discover the soul
inside.
The roof overhead,
you will break in time,
and the seat of your consciousness,
your experiencing self,
will fountain out of the top of your head
into unknown regions,
into the larger field above.
We are in a clockwork universe
it’s possible to see beyond.
It’s possible to get up there
for a limited time only.
Several seconds
have exposed this poem.

Now what do I do
to climb out of words and show you my tattoo?
We have another field man.
We have to change inside our makings,
so much representative think,
so much put on the feelings of others,
so much be ourselves
and not society’s notion of us
or even our family’s.
Can you get that?

You know you have inside
so much more
than go to work, go home,
and there and back again,
than a craver for society’s wares,
than an eating machine,
than any enjoyment you have,
and you know you are bigger
than society puts you down.

Where are the handles on this?
You can’t find them.
This is too big.
A caveman has come and talked
to industrialized society,
to use an analogy how far we are
from the larger field of man.
I’m showin’ yah the wares.
You begin to live your life differently
than for a paycheck,
or for all these things you want,
or for solely your enjoyment,
or even for your kids, parents, and spouse,
for your loved ones,
but in every field I’ve mentioned,
you can make that the starting point
for your self-discovery.
You make that your means to go home.
You can do it there,
in normal life,
by making of yourself a pilgrimage
to discover that greater you,
to find that larger us,
to change society
in its very moving parts.

I’m not way off base.
I’m right here in your hand
revealin’ life.
Stupid me,
I go through weather patterns, you know?
I’m not enlightenment yet
or the higher consciousness.
I have vision inside,
and I get visited by great thoughts
all day long.
I move through the world
tryin’ to make my thoughts reality.
They come across as these poems.
I’m a slug in a handbasket you know,
in that basket spaceship Mother Earth,
a sluggin’ it with you
homey.

I can’t get out of this wood,
but I’m practicin’ sureness in it
we’re gonna get there.
I can see it now,
but I got hit on my bicycle
by a car,
and I’m laid up, hold up,
an invalid temporary.
Now that hurts.
The damn VA won’t give me any pain medication,
but they’re okay,
treated me nice,
commendable actually.
I don’t gotta go to work
for today.
I was on my way to work when it happened.
Stupid car,
didn’t see the sidewalk.
Now I can paint you poems
free and easy,
since that car
stepped in and made the universe prove,
for today’s papers,
need as poet
more than Mr. Grocery boy.
Halleluja, huh?

Look in a thousand years.
We will be larger than wood.
We’ve got so much work to do
that we haven’t started yet.
Fine, fine, meditate, practice
all these roles of spirituality,
but it’s in your hands you try
to find the roles inside.
Can you meditate while you’re doin’?
Bake that field.
Make the field in front of you God,
that person,
that task,
and there’s the secret to longevity
of the changes you make.
Hold a representative consciousness inside,
everywhere you look,
everywhere you turn around,
in all your life’s tasks,
at rest and at play.
You’re seein’ God outta do it.
Overhead that’s who you are inside.

Can I graft this to trees?
God is the All-Look in on itself,
the real behind the apparent,
the one he be looked to for change.
I can get lost in words.
God is our plan.
An unknowable All-Mystery
grabs us all
in personal sleeves.
Who-Done-It,
my God that’s good.
We love a good mystery.
We love to be sleuth.

Now hold my hand.
I’ve got so much more to show you than time.
I love those feelins.
Even my Luna’s the great One,
but that goddamn car,
I’m workin’ on that one.
It hurts you know.
Alright hand me down sleeves.
I know how to put you on at night,
goddamn in bed with the world
learnin’ duty,
learnin’ price.
The world goes deep,
you know?
The world goes wide.
It’s fine.
Even my dog says so,
and she’s on the rag.
I just go too far
in world faculty.

Pissin’ all over the place,
that’s the modes of man.
We are primitive land seekers,
and we don’t know where we’re goin’.
Let’s arrive at peace on earth
is our greatest notion,
or live in harmony with the Earth.
We don’t have a sense of ourselves
an evolving species
from man to a higher type.
Oh my God,
I just hit science in the nose.
It’s stuck in material process
and can’t even interpret our dreams yet,
or know that we inhabit consciousness together,
because it can’t see that far.
In animal vision, in animal man,
we can’t get over ourselves
or see that larger field,
or even get there.
Put bubbles in place,
we can’t swim out of them.
Can you?

Interactive city,
let’s ride some fences, shall we?
What names did I give you to believe in?
I’m givin’ you wide open stuff
I’m not anchorin’ down.
I want you to believe in yourself in your higher type.
That’s the coming messiah,
if you’re lookin’ for saviors.
It’s you and me and every last one of us,
takin’ these conscious springs of evolution,
a field of human consciousness has given us,
and evolvin’ don’t you see?
A gospel of everybody,
don’t you see that yet?

Put representative bowls in place,
I’m lifted change.
I got rid of my sweetheart,
a robbin’ piece of flesh.
I don’t need it anymore,
even in fantasy,
even in the attraction pull.
I was not normal down there.
I wasn’t gay either.
I see the mystery pull,
and I changed my life to prove it.
Now what do you get down there
if you’re not bothered with it?
You don’t get a hole.
There are ecstasies beyond this world
in a much deeper field of play.
There are ecstasies down there
attached to nobody,
all along the chakra-spine,
and your body can be in orgasm
shooting you out the top of the head.

You sexual spider-cake,
you’re not bein’ life itself.
You’re fooled by nature’s cravings
to continue the species
and get some craving relief.
You’re fooled by distant man
together again in one body
male and female.
I understand union reals,
but mine was impossible to understand
because nature had gone awry
and pitted me with another half
I could not join society with.
I had to change,
and I had to know the world to do it.
I had to discover myself.
I had to get big.
I discovered abstinence not denial,
and I’m not an accident waiting to happen.
I know how to harmonize life
and just be myself
in any given situation.

Can you do that,
or are you bound by society’s rules
that stigmatize yourself?
I’ve overcome you.
Men hurt
and women,
and I can find myself in a field of pain
at the drop of a hat,
at the turn of a phrase,
and do you know what I’m giving you?
What’s the price of change?
You can’t do it in today’s society.
Can I help you?
Can I be there for you?
And you will only read this to find crime,
you blockhead.
Is that the majority of us?
Do you find crime?

I revolutionize society
right here lookin’ at it.
I revolutionize society right in front of you.
Kill me for it, will you?
I’m on old pastured ground,
but I’m not visible to your eyes
man’s worth.
Nobody wants to put me out in the open
because I’m a dangerous man in these times.
You might get in trouble for it.
I don’t know why I’m here
speakin’ under your table right now
to the high and the low.
I could be anywhere,
but I’m not I’m here,
givin’ you my life’s blood,
takin’ out my heart and showin’ it to you,
so you can sacrifice with me
to the joy of the world
all our petty and mean,
any vehicle of harm,
sacrifice even your safety in ego activism par none,
not stupidly,
not shamefully,
on the field of poetry bounds,
or whatever art aids yah
to take the ego from its throne,
to move the ego from its peacock seat,
to end its dominance on earth.
You get my carryin’ dog?

You sacrifice yourself on the alter of life
in sudden epiphanies
of the inspired art.
Would that God stays Abraham’s hand
and doesn’t kill his son,
you know?
The wise care
on the dance floor,
this is the new Gilbert,
Mattie Mae.
Can you come down some
to our price?
The greatest feelins in the world
are all around you,
even if you get hit by a car,
and you’re not too fucked up to see them.
That’s God you see
and the Mystery behind time,
just a livin’ it up in the wood,
and bringing you in on yourself
so you see them
the Wonderful who you are.

This happens every day
in any field on earth,
but you have to find them inside to see them
as clearly as you do the world,
and that’s an inner journey par none,
over and over again.
Break the bounds inside.
Throw open the lid
that separates you from infinity,
and get yourself all straightened out,
over long, slow years,
over every minute of your life.
In all your mistakes,
you’re goin’ somewhere,
but you don’t do mistakes to get there.
You harmonize everything
into your larger see.

Now I’ve given you the keys
to begin.
Now is this a booty hunt?
It’s nothin’
that will always get you anything.
Now what the desert symbols in dreams?
That’s the touchstone
to a greater life,
that arid,
that barren,
and when the honey starts,
it’s not up all along.
You have to be tested and tried,
and there are snakes on the footpath
and liars in your head.
It’s a milkshake
of calamity
taking you to safety,
and you’ve made the monsters mad
that mess with human lives,
the monsters under your bed.
They just rule down here you know?
And the negligent divine
waits to intervene.
It’s got to be the right stuff
or a node on the story all-important.
It sucks you know?
Makes for banging your head against the wall
in your miracle ward.

Have I spelled it enough.
I can get goin’
towards that hidden sun.
Does it have to be a car,
you divine underwood,
crashin’ me into the pavement,
the divine intervention I ride,
taking out of business,
that ground me for a paycheck?
What the fuck?

The rice failed enough gas.
Did I get away with it?
It’s rainin’.
I can’t get over it,
how I’m brought before my enemies,
those that fire me
and kick me out of India
and just generally despise me,
and shown to be a beggar in the wood
marchin’ down the hill
to a hole at the end of the tunnel.
Reader, do you see that?
No, you see my inner wares.
I’d be a cap gun that fools yah.
That’s not God
pushin’ you on the floor.
It’s his chaperon,
the bodied life we are.
Kinda gets yah in the knickers, doesn’t it,
the embarrassment we are.

I’m goin’ for larger pastures,
and I’m bringin’ my dog.
Got a problem with that?
I’m not molten lava.
I am not weird and strange.
Clothes against the wind,
the key to love is change;
that’s all.
How you get around everything:
genuine and love,
back behind everything,
build a life.
You have arrived at the end of the poem.
In a sudden change,
you can only take your own car.
Go for it.
Read it,
Review of Nonconformity
And Other Stars.


That’s a foundation-spread spirituality.
You need help.
How far did you go?
Did you get all the way down to the well of soul?
Now there’s advice,
everyday counsel.
There is saving grace
in given words and visions
in the very substance of your dreams,
and great seraphim thoughts
that ride your day.
Listen to this.
It’s guidance from down under
concrete and whole.

Hey, crowd,
somethin’ tears it apart,
this speakeasy in your mind,
invader of dreams,
the ones who put circumstance together
down here on earth.
The monsters of the deep,
they talk too.
They guide you
to tear you apart,
and do you know what?
They do it all the time,
and without the discernment,
you just fall apart.
They block the soul,
imitate it,
and drown it out with their lore,
and can I come on the scene with channeling?
Most this is rotten tomatoes.
The divine doesn’t speak that way,
and divine beings are all around us,
giving guidance like the soul,
inner ships,
having a conversation
in the symbols of art.

It’s inner speech daemon
and inner vision,
a high kaleidoscope of grand advice,
a chorus of voices
rich with entertainment’s mood
and the jolly of the world.
It’s unbelievable in its scope.
It’s happenin’
in your ability to go in trance inside,
or anytime you go inside
for a bright reverie
that can come from cooking a meal,
if you’re alone,
and operating a motor vehicle,
all eyes on the road,
any mundane task
monotonous enough to go in while doin’ it.
These are development skies,
when you get down to it,
impossible really
to bless you with.
You have to do it yourself.

Now the road’s all open
for you to do it yourself.
Who does it for you?
No, not the divine
and certainly not the soul.
It doesn’t
take your will from you,
but it empowers your will
with keen advice,
the knowledge to do it right.
The most hidden part of the spiritual path,
they rely on your own will
the changes you make.
Willpower takes force
as the door,
and there’s no way around this
I’m sorry to say.

Actually,
this is what you’re goin’ through,
line your will up with God,
will this, will that,
in the loads of every day.
Come on is this impossible?
Impossibility seems,
and as many times as you fall,
there’s a stickler on your will.
Never mind the philosophy,
but you do come under a spell
when confronted with your obstacle,
your subconscious part,
and until you overcome it,
it will get you every time.
Come out from under that spell,
and you have grand guidance to do so,
if you listen,
if you get down that far,
if you’re sincere.
You’re not the messiah, hero.
You’re just you doin’ it,
a change of heart.

Have I found myself there?
This is advice from the soul
and my chosen divine,
but you don’t have to believe in them.
Every word of this is inner made,
and mastery I call on you,
here in bed with my dog,
around the house,
inner in an outer state.
Even outside the story goes,
walkin’ my dog or ridin’ my bike,
inwardly concentrated
on the outside see.
No neglect is there.
I’m not spaced out,
and that car hit me
on the sidewalk,
where I was legally bound.
It carried the liability.
It was a fault.
I didn’t fill inner guidance on the road.
I was never
spill my lines on the way to work
in that particular journey,
the day I get hit by a car.
I just got attacked
by dinjinns,
and that sucks.

It was an emergency
officer,
let me go unprotected
for the dinjinns to do it.
I have more poems to ride.
You’re hearin’ one now.
A cashier at Walmart is so outwardly tuned,
concentrated on customers all the time,
too much talking
for inner silence.
And let me spill this again:
I am inner guidance on your roof,
and you’re gettin’ the tall of it,
everything written down
to get you started,
to get you goin’,
to help you along the way,
to confirm your own found it there,
the inner path all along.
It’s a long poem,
for the serious in mind, heart,
for those who want to know.
You got a minute?

I’m a chaperon really
of your budding spirituality.
Anyway,
let’s get this show on the road.
There is will down.
You have just go to pick it up,
and it’s a fence worth,
not everything in the sky.
These are the teachings of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo
and their yoga put into practice,
written down for daily use,
in the order of appearance
in the skies of time.
What a freeway, huh?

I went overtime
to make this a complete yoga book
in first time hands,
or to give old timers a way out of their dilemma.
You must pardon my shimmerin’ moon,
the spearpoints of my stars.
The sun doesn’t talk yet it just looks,
and changes the whole field.
We are on the road to Supermind if you want to know the truth,
the divinize everything,
and we moon to get there
from the house of soul,
but it doesn’t talk to you,
the immortal Supermind,
nor do you worship it.
It rides you along
the itineraries,
and there it is in the sun
in vision.
Clouds around it some,
or is it full force?

Can you see that far?
And here we’ve begun.
Pretty dog,
sometimes you
are your dog.
How to communicate
the road to master?
Do you see the sea salt?
You’re not always made clear,
but it’s a hell of a ride
to stick your life to,
so unboring,
so very real.

Why would you just want money
to spend on things?
Why would you want to get along life without it,
the challenge of a lifetime?
Why would you want to be dumb, stupid, and mean,
when you can have the sun, moon, and stars?
Tell me now,
what is this advice within my head
that visits you in my bed?
Ah, a dream I think but oh so strange.
I give all the name of the game,
lights on yoga if you tell the truth,
and there we are.

I didn’t put any bowel movements
to get you to this beauty.
I didn’t piss all over myself,
but I sure didn’t leave anything out
that gets our goat talkin’ about.
I’m not embarrassed to say
the creeper,
the thing we can’t handle,
because it’s too impolite.
I talk you there,
where the knots are,
and that’s you untie them,
and I am a power yoga there,
if you see I’m speakin’ from truth
I’ve fortified
with my own two bare hands.
You’re gettin’ my yoga,
and I’m not at all ashamed to say
I’m well on the way.
Do you hear me boys and girls?

I am very pleased.
Let’s get started
or begin again.
Let’s get well on the way,
a sadhana you do tomorrow
that’s here in your hands today,
24/7,
all along the rollercoaster,
and you got that right,
a touch of God.
We are endeavor to learn
two birds in the hand are worth two in the bush.
It’s not all spiritual experiences.
It’s not even that you seek.
Center on the divine
in everything you do,
the divine above all else,
the divine in your living room.
You will get to the One eventually,
the Mystery behind all,
the divine in everything you do.

Road speak I’m sad.
Gotta get your compass out
and slow down.
The goal is ever the goal.
Do you know what I mean?
It’s a ways beyond
anything you’re doin’ now,
until you are Gods on earth,
literally,
in the sky and on the ground,
the change to Supermind
as it rides Earth.
Is that a thousand years from now?
Every week
brings us closer to the goal,
and you look at it that way,
as the sun rides your life
a happenin’ now.
Can you go up there to it?

In great moments you’re there
I’ll let you diagnose.
Did you get out of the universe
and be up there within it?
Did you ride the sun?
Where is that at
in manifestation Earth?
You are grounded you know
in the impossible,
and you ever ride the sky
in the ways of God,
when your manifestation is true to Earth,
and wow this poem is,
and yeah stupid me,
I get lost in corners,
but I do certainly get out.
I can sacrifice my way out of anything,
as I glide by.
I can get out of trouble,
the representative creature that I am
on a representative planet
in a symbol universe.
You see my Winnebago?

And you’re there
beyond time,
and that’s not in the wood.
Now, you see where we’re goin’?
We’ve already been there.

It’s where we come from,
and we’re bringin’ that down here,
divinize the Earth and sun,
the finite one up there in the sky.
Hercules,
and we give that man his name.
It’s a golden endeavor,
a supramental endeavor
we surrender to
all our days.

Now do you have the rulebook?
There is none.
It happens as it happens,
a different road for each one,
something beyond rules
and step by steps,
and that’s the hardest thing in the world for the human being,
likin’ the simplicity of the animal,
likin’ his way of life,
the dumb run.
We’ll get there anyway,
despite ourselves.
It is spoken.
It is inevitable.
I’ll see yah on the road,
okay?

Alright,
this poem continues with your sadhana
where here I do mine,
right there,
where we fall asleep.
Take it from me,
if you have the patience
to hear a poem all night long.
I do,
and this writin’ too.
It’ll make one offer:
passive who you sittin’
in the burden of your life.
Hear on me here,
and that’s a hell of a sadhana,
so answer divine.
There is no other way up
surrender all you keep,
and you’re on your road through time,
and you have the strength to get out,
and it’s right there
comes spiritual experience,
the flexity
to let it happen
it’s so startling down here
you know.

Good,
let’s grow up.
See that coming.
It will tear you up,
and you will get up and move on,
anything that happens,
anything that does.
Can we put the strength of this poem in your hands,
inside the river
have your coming days?
I’m afraid
you have no choice but to do it yourself,
whatever you find,
wherever we go.
Is that so alarming?
Okay we may have to learn
calamity stakes,
a much harder road than now.
Don’t
say okay life come
and show me what you got.
I’m sayin’
you’re lookin’ for the divine,
come what may,
whatever happens.
You got that road?
You got that life?

Supposed to take care of it
that negligent divine.
Alright already,
you’re in here,
in a blessing packet now.
Ah, go ahead and set up.
Well you can shut up.
Thank you reader.
See there the power you have?
The emergency ever arrives to thought,
wherever it’s mutilated.
We’re done here.
Makin’ true that’s all.
I apologize for getting so mad this morning.
I had no food,
and that food arriving,
and you turned it into some grasshopper’s umbrella
complication 3
and surgery.
They will be taking pictures if they can
at Walmart.
Look it’s mine too.
It’s nice of her,
gas keep the phone to its tours airs on the screen,
as the Spirit
ignores you,
in noise
jokes around,
at my expense.
I end it here.
That’s it.

There’s fence of good people to,
the limits of
your attention recognize.
Oh my warm God,
I give you credit out of the parking lot.
The pursuit of the unbearable,
what was lost in God
to front the Unknowable.
The action of the divine mother
put all in place,
gave name to form
and helped me to abode in peace,
but I am lost in this fathomlessness
so greatly surmise the world,
and I love my dog.
How greatly that turns the world,
the boundlessness of love.
It’s patient sitting
the works of the divine mother
and giving you a poem,
formlessly and one
honey puppy.

Denies all
a great eye of nothingness.
The great eye of nothingness
doesn’t exist.
A great eye of nothingness shut off.
The enclosure,
no thank you,
I will not man nothing,
put that on my brain,
or go anywhere with it.
Do you know how tall this is?
Outside of the enclosure
of the universe.
There we are.

Sad or bored,
now it’s the hidden sun
pulling those habitats from my eyes
into my very joy
not confined in anything.
Any new answer
to bring the world in peace,
that’s what I’m talkin’ about.
I’m not gonna force it.
I’m gonna take the bus,
come out of the top of my head,
stoppin’ tonight
right now.

Yeah we get there,
just above the head,
where the consciousness stays,
the seat of consciousness.
You’re a consciousness now
(I was lookin’ around),
inviting Supermind down.
This gets scared.
Where did I put it?
I put it
where the poem ends,
where the vehicle ends
takes you
to see these things,
and there you are.

To the next war,
to the next tree,
you gotta try to find this.
It’s the one safety
frees us from all harm.
What did you do?
I sat the captives free.
Hear about it,
it turns you on,
transcendence.
What a sun scratching child,
I just can’t get into algebra.
He’s going to get seconds,
and there’s moooore,
moooore. [sing last two lines]

Are you up the down staircase?
You see this as where we came from.
There is another bill,
and these paragraphs says personal city.
The lantern
was a collective whole.
We’ve lit up the chasm of the Abyss,
brought consciousness down there,
the great scout,
so the Real in the apparent form
brings a new Earth,
and Supermind descends
into its creation,
and we bring home here.
Put your shoes on
people,
I’ve shown you the way home.
We need to find the most names
excited by thrill seekers.
I thought I’d pass this on to everybody.
Understand my science
revolutionary?
You get me dog?

Thunderstruck,
it looks like,
I’ll do it bitterly and sweetly:
I’m actually heard.
You wanna working stiff not a
poet in the rafters,
and I just wanna be left alone
and do my stuff
in a poem.
Okay I’ll see you again soon
with another poem from the rafters.
You’ve
got it on your whistle
I don’t have to get in front of that cash register
and Walmart the world away.
I can’t write a lick of poetry
caught up in that crowd.
It’s grocery lists
and item buys,
throwin’ myself out on the public lane
when gettin’ home and tryin’ to get my silence back.

A day off I’ll do it,
but that’s work, work, work, you know?
Along with the cookin’ and what else,
constant dog care and what else,
and I do like the sunshine on a winter’s day
sittin’ and bein’ nice to myself,
unguarded moments
of ease,
readin’ and whatnot,
seein’ the football game end,
maybe a movie or two,
or doin’ nothin’ in my arm chair,
sweetin’ up the day with that,
what gives rise to poetry
I have those seraphim thoughts,
and I have the freedom to do that,
basically,
I don’t work for the Man
in those loud modes,
can’t get a concentration done
on anything of silence.

Now all these days off,
I’m in a poetry slam,
really, really intense,
and I’m gettin’ right down on the fingers of society
go for the throat of society right in its needed change,
least I run off
before you put me back to work in some menial job
poetry can’t land there.
I gotta eat you know,
help Douglas with the bills—
there’s Donny.

Can someone please help me to a poet’s worth?
Big bathroom I think.
Is that North Bergen,
Dallas or Ashburn,
Judgment Falls,
the Bible states,
all these fields on earth?
North Fort Worth,
go back there
and see me alive
and not doin’ a thing wrong,
all ye people,
all your self-satisfied lives,
all you lives lookin’ for somethin’ you ain’t got.
Could we like, uh, rock n roll?

This is just the price of oil
comin’ to that place
it heed dollar.
Here’s it’s talkin’ about
let’s get this show on the road.
I’m good at it,
givin’ yah for all it’s worth
writin’ poetry to today’s mind,
interestin’
to all these people
at the edge of the world.
You don’t read like you used to.
Now, where did poetry go?
Right here,
a new style to play a part today
you ain’t never seen before.

ChatGI,
that stupid free course,
that wrong imitation,
will it sum up the world
and put meanin’ in it,
direction and path,
all on the nodes of man
it gather out in the world from its own experience?
Will it put meaning together like this,
like a paratrooper?
Will you give credit to human language
genuinely done
by where’s poetry come from
since it came out of our mouths,
the honest to God muse of poetry,
the real thing?

Man I’m talking to you.

Present turn to your dinner.
Oh ah,
lift up your eyes and eat.
Came over and bring that Nithish
I am trying to school,
that 14-year-old
and poet.
His poet,
that 14-year-old boy,
can you bring him here to me please
from India?
Can you just send his poetry along to the world too?
Nithish’s blog top of the page.
We have Spirit together.
We can ask
do you need anything today?
You need children put rightly,
the greatest need in the world.
He’ll tell you that
in his poetry,
and when a kid sings it,
you’re likely to hear it.
I can just ask.
You’re just ready to put me in the trashcan,
but why him?
Thank you,
my boy’s blog.

Not curry for free,
we spiritual mastered together.
I am his teacher,
his grandfather
and best friend.
I raised him
a good portion of his childhood,
and he’s home with me.
I was there the night he was born
at the hospital.
You know what that means:
I didn’t find him as a sex tourist.
He’s my kid,
and that’s his whistle with me,
all along time.

We’re good together,
like a racehorse,
like a freight train.
I gave him God shoes.
That he puts them on
and becomes a think tank himself,
we do that duty,
and he is high and mighty in my life,
and I respect his every mood,
but I don’t get off on him.
He’s sacrifice.
He’s work.
We identify with each other
so naturally and sweetly
you would want him put over here with me.
Now that’s standard dress,
and we have work to do together you know,
and that’s all folks.
That’s everything.
I love that little boy.

The sun has molded itself to itself
in high glass clear.
In special light
we’re there.
Image the sea.
He has the showed the higher consciousness makes them embrace
in this paper.
Oh yeah it’s horrible
you’re too loud to read it.
Another note:
I have a glance
in that spiritual presence
I know the meaning of,
scheduled car
to enter enlightenment.
Been here.
Social it and do me a favor.
I am right now
holding your hand.
Would you be pretty enough to see that?
Right on time
let’s go outside.

The explosion and the scary,
I’m not sure it’s fathomable.
Beings of a wider, higher consciousness drew near.
There’s a you for months other than me.
I don’t like the fallout.
Go under
more long than strong.
I think I see enlightenment’s booty.
Being take a look at it
band aide all day.
I learn to abide
consciousness shears.
When the public enters your mind
those origin.
It’s profound the crowd.
Eww, catalyst
we really fit ourselves.
And why would you do that?
Dream after dream after dream
right here in your notebook.
Got to know
there
on Sunday’s farm.
There’s a dumplin’.
Origins
delivers.
What is that mode?
The diamond,
the windows
shear and pure.

Enlightenment
what’s your number?
Why not?
What does a guy lose?
Just give me a second.
I’ll do some scheduling,
and it’s done.
I’ve opened it.
Let’s have some fun.
We go public,
think like the hurricane.
When I say that now
the public mind doesn’t believe it.
The noosphere it lets you
on the rafters
visiting human thought,
and that’s a big puppy.

View our progress
someone touches me it gets out.
What have you done?
The sins the day will kill you with,
break a leg.
Oh, it’s your past.
Can we step in line
see forgiveness?
That’s done it
I know the meaning of my sins,
and I have repented from them.
I don’t do them no more,
and this takes the icing off the cake.
I’m not the only one
bonded by my sin,
and I can’t make up for you here.
You have no other way but punishment.
I’m not going to confess a dime.
I’m not going to let you have me.
I will make the journey
to make up for what I’ve done.
I will do that.

I will,
when those two,
when life and death talk roads,
when the inner consciousness itself
reaches people inside
so much healing done,
so much love.
Movin’ robotics,
there was the whole system
of this legal system.
You can’t just leave it.
That happen.
We stop prison planet.
We stop it completely
and a few other places
we punish people for their disease.

I’m a view that in person.
I heal,
and it’s all I can do.
There’s a factor,
the power of love.
We have that stuff,
and I’m a hologram for it.
Grand it put there
hey I love you.
Will do scrubbin’ my feet
here all along.
That’s the tension
hunkered down
as you read my poem.
I’m alive on you.
I’m not neglecting you.
Perfect,
let’s go home.

Let’s get movin’,
shall we?
Let’s get on with it,
the magical
life on the road
in splendid skies.
We really get out.
We really get out of prison.
You take care now.
You take care of yourself.
So long,
you have a good day.
So you note it by yourself,
put divine muse, divine lawyers.

What’s new in the swamps of Michigan and forest?
We have really decided his paper
broadcast America.
Rebelled some. [pronounced rebel’d]
I didn’t limit alcohol
to its dispensary.
I didn’t get drunk either,
but I rode alcohol
to give me some beer
to separate
some pain and some ease.
It made me feel good,
but that’s no problem.
I drove the winnebago
I’m normal waking consciousness down by the grass feed.
It’s right up here
the substance of my day.
That’s her fault,
yeah the divine mother.
She told me this mornin’
that everybody’s supposed to
of God,
but if they’re not at the beach,
feel, feel, feel,
what condition my condition was in
[two above lines sung to tune of the beginning of “Just Dropped In”],
ascended joy,
a rising ecstasy.
It is precision jewelry.

There would have to be patience
to break the rules,
not indulgin’ matter
to a ritual pattern,
but you just break loose every now and then,
ease up on the controls
and take down your hair.
Let’s get now
you don’t do that to harm anybody,
and you don’t get drunk if you’re an alcoholic
harmin’ yourself.
Normal waking consciousness,
it lifts your road,
dangnabbit.
Wait this is beauty’s skies,
and here you are.
I’ll let you promise
we’re good keepers here
the clear portal of consciousness.
Substance driven,
we lose our way.
In highs there’s a held up
they use as a camera
we don’t even know is there,
the monsters of the deep.
There’s a
platform here I know it.
Psychedelics,
you know it,
that big joker.
That settled anarchy tribe,
well they can bring spiritual experience
in sittin’ very well prepareds.
Good God hallelujah,
you can’t make rules about anything
You got my winnebago?

Blitzin’
to get this damn show on the road.
Oh my grand family,
do we just kill each other,
or have a moon?
I’m not gonna pay a lot for this muffler.
Where did that come from?
That’s a conservative.
You will spend your whole life.
I don’t get it.
Your old life is gone.
Everything’s a portal of sadhana.
Nothin’ gets left out.
The concentration goes everywhere,
every minute
puttin’ that veneer on everything,
on to it:
I am concentrating on the divine
in everything I do, think, and be,
because it’s right in front of me
whole and ready-made.
Just remember
that veneer
continually more,
a bunch of times during the day,
until the representative consciousness comes in
your mode of thinking, being.

I’ve described to you
the sadhana
that will get us out of here
and get us out of suffering,
the sadhana you do every day.
You do sadhana
in the heartwood
of everything,
and watch it change your life.
Thirty years is nothin’
you’re figurin’ results.
This changes the world.
Your change gets it there.

Oh the pancakes,
there is the Great Smokey Mountains National Park.
You can’t let your dogs there.
Unbelievable.
I’ve got a Rottweiler.
You, you can’t do it,
travel your dogs up the road
in a spiritual change.
What does that mean?
You’re learn
the rules won’t get yah there.
Some doggy might.
Toasted
let’s go home,
dogs or not.

For your feet
that do yah.
Absolutely it’s free
people.
Better,
I just found out
people are gettin’,
they’re gettin’ better.
The freedom’s come ‘ere,
it’s your choice.
Peter’s cookin’ the thought Heaven.
It’s a little too big.
The first chappal you sent,
I got promoted
on the state park,
backfishin’.
Here I am giving things.
A quarter your visitors for dogs,
got it set up.
Yeah next week I’m gonna eat.
I got so much cookin’
where infancy changes the world,
but I made it out of there alive,
and I used that to open my consciousness
far and wide.

My mom was around all the groceries in one battle.
Peanut butter,
she slipped it into her mouth
and sucked that little thing.
The consciousness that rules orgasm,
I got ruled from birth,
all my toddler years.
Oedipus hits the Sphinx, and
fuck it let’s get on with it.
It’s a ticklin’ notion
comin’ in on my playground
a devil with red eyes,
the horrendous history of abuse.
I saw it sittin’ there
all over the table,
that dog-dragon with red eyes
(imaginary playmate hell),
grinnin’ as my mom supped.
I was openin’ consciousness early on.
I bought you
transcendence.
Now do you believe me?

Up to an American geologist
an alarm went off.
To a doctor,
violently lets in the poem.
So I was messed up
on you just can’t get out of the mundane to see the Real, can you?
Unbelievable your pittance.
Can you create a star?
I wash over it,
sit and face the truth,
ch-ch-ch-ch-changes. [sing last two lines to tune of “Changes”]

When I’m giving that to Walmart’s eye I have a saying:
you’re going home. [says reader at the same time I say it]
I’m going home.
Sharing
real life on the clock looks like we found each other.
We went a special forces team.
In bounds you change
a woman,
a man,
a single body
like before.
There’s another person,
the whole.
Yeah,
you have the impossible dream.
Sorry kid,
that one,
I have it.
I have my hands on it today,
located in the heart of the night
people are moving,
in my drawers,
and the platelets of man.
I have the energy
to see myself one with the sewing machine,
and I car
to land’s end.
That close by the apple
we got knowledge on.
Did not
put down the biggest one,
the fruit of the tree of the unknown,
where we become God on earth livin’ in man,
the paradise of our inner state,
the manifestation on our outer.
I do not neglect
immortality
in a rainbow body par none
I change into again.
Houston come on,
that’s Heaven
man halleluja, amen.

Glory halleluja,
where the poem ends,
The Love of Yoga it’s called,
for apes and further humans
apin’ me in the rainbow.
Fall all over yourselves readin’ it.
I don’t know what to say.
Look, there’s God,
God on earth.

We believe the magic’s made out of Choctaw and wood.
Join it
on the open air,
and uh,
a poet
all together
mountain,
burnin’ here
background check,
ridin’ high forward,
rumblin’ with redneck,
he gets his point across.
They hear him at the Astrodome.
They hear him on Soldier’s Field,
well an American poet
at the rafters of his craft
poetry.
I mean they actually know’d he published a poem,
everybody concerned with such
and everybody that don’t.
I rub myself on the land
right there at that smellin’ spot,
hallelujah, ruff, ruff.
Beautiful, ain’t?
Amazing landfall,
the shouldering down of American life,
American landfall.

Carry Meaning

Me at work at the Roxie, photo by a kind tourist lady named Eleanor, taken just after writing the poem

This is one of the poems that got me fired from my job at the Greater Fort Myers Beach Chamber of Commerce. The president, who fired me, told Douglas, who also works there, that board members and others were sending her excerpts of things I’d “penned”, claiming I was making fun of them.

If you are reading this poem on a phone, note that the integrity of the lines, a major feature of poetry, is not displayed properly. Many if not most get cut short because of the small screen.
I sit and toil all day
at the heart’s sky,
laboring meaning into form
that won’t surprise me with its despair.

I unhand time.
It seizes me.
I believe in miracles.
It’s all a wonderful of the All-Look’s gaze.
I labor to see that.

I can remember it happening
long ago.
All the sights I see hide God.
Can you hide God?
It’s a revelation in a day,
the abruptness of creation
organizing time.

I can see through the forms
cloud my mind with meaning.
That bus that just stopped there,
it stayed a bus,
but it carried mystery.

The people at the bar getting drunk next door,
a singer sings their songs.
I can’t find the music or the melody
they become more than sharks
wetting their nose on freedom.

I carry them in time,
the little guy at the Roxie station wagon
tourist information center,
seeing past the show
into metaphor’s play.

Bathing suits and butts
don’t know what they mean.
Their wearers are proud of them.
They walk past smiling don’t look
stirring sexual desire.

I don’t know how to do this,
be a Roxie concierge
and assign God to the role.
I just mean somethin’ to everyone.
My hand is ever on time’s grasp,
“Yes ma’am, can I help you please?”


I study tourists
tryin’ to find time
a meal on paradise.
Can I help you folks?
Every meaning
gets bigger than time
and be what it means for.

Can you see that?
Every meaning we look at
wears the face of God,
but every dog knows
God is horribly attentive
to things you don’t understand.

I will find meaning there.
I will reach beyond the Earth
and sit at the Roxie and be myself
guiding tourists to their destination
on Fort Myers Beach.
Yah get me dog?

The Immediacy

The podium on the stage of the Art Hall in Koreshan State Park, Florida, where the utopian religious group, Koreshan Unity, had its community, whose founder and prophet was Cyrus Teed. A visit and a meditation there inspired this poem.

This is one of the poems that got me fired from my job at the Greater Fort Myers Beach Chamber of Commerce. The president, who fired me, told Douglas, who also works there, that board members and others were sending her excerpts of things I’d “penned”, claiming I was making fun of them.

If you are reading this poem on a phone, note that the integrity of the lines, a major feature of poetry, is not displayed properly. Many if not most get cut short because of the small screen.
In dreams and visions my voices speak.
What are you doing over here?
I’m a religious nut.
I can’t control myself I hear visions.
I count the salesmen in my dreams.
Go wake up humanity,
I can’t count the number of times I tried.
I can’t even get a word across.

This is not save the world vision.
I mean like
I’ll never forget that I
made the wrong sort of mud pies.
I write poetry to reach the world.
I’m not a religious figure to charm it.
I’ve opened up consciousness inside.
There’s no barnstormin’.
I’m a quiet place takin’ a mile.
I sit and read muse,
no religious fanaticism,
but I answer questions bluntly and with sarcasm.
Let’s see what stinks here.
Your mind.

Flying saucers from outer space did not tell me a thing.
I have not been visited by angels
tellin’ me I’m the man.
I don’t want to get in your pants.
I don’t want you to obey me.
I would like a better society.
I would like to say things that mean somethin’.
I would like to hold your hand,
where you don’t look down on me.
I would like to lift you up
in your mind where you think
and touch that heart of yours.

We have a society here growin’ money
and hate your neighbor.
The mind of us is not the best of us.
Our souls are only beliefs not houses kept.
We think each other wrong.
We don’t hand out society
so you’re a prized member.
That’s the rich and famous.
We don’t know how to do it,
be kind to one another,
and it’s not a social laugh,
the uncomfortableness
of putting each other down
to get at time with one another,
or at best we keep our distance
from heartfelt communication.
We laugh at one another
and wear big social masks to prove it,
or we’re tryin’ to sell somethin’
when fake that sincerity.

Who is vulnerable and sweet?
Who lets their guard down
and give people meaningful communication?
Our minds are full of the kingdoms of ourselves.
And I’m not sure how to write that.
Would you group with me?
I’m a group-minded person,
and I give group to my human being.
I don’t consider other groups human,
the Democratic Party for instance,
or those Republicans.
Man I love everybody.
Now you everybody’s get off the bus.
I’m lying to my social lying.
I can only tolerate certain people.

You disguised my I,
and I’m sharin’ in your business
I don’t understand.
You’re not the biggest people in the world
Americans.
You’re not even tryin’.
What happened to me?
There are changes in consciousness ahead.
I’ve had some previews.
I was not someone you handled correctly.
You didn’t know how to see me,
and I just fucked up.
I got intah trouble.
The previews came as a start
to help me feel you as I feel myself,
even if
you look down on me.

I saw humanity.
I’ve seen the world as my eye,
no, no, not its offerings to me.
I am a vision of the world as we speak.
We look out each other’s eyes,
in the world being that we are,
and we look out the eyes of God,
who is the vision everything.
It is possible to break free
from single vision’s number lair,
from one pole of consciousness don’t you see?
I’m about that vision.
It’s universal.
We all share it.

We’re lost in me’s
and the boundaries of our group.
I’m so sorry
this chain gang has defeated my eyes too.
Can I help you some
see the truth,
reality as it is,
no religious overlays,
no scientism that can’t see past its own nose?
Reality’s bigger than you think,
and you have identity outside of time.
You aren’t this puny self
laboring on a hapless globe
that can’t see itself
and know it’s true.
You’ve put on actors wings,
and it’s a hell of a ride ain’t it?

And all your dreams represent things to you
because you are representative in time.
You’re bigger than you think,
in household wears,
not your peckin’ order.
You are actually beyond the stars
lookin’ through a thin pigeonhole
at that embarrassed I down in time.
We’re all naked down here,
and pride just can’t seem to go with us to sleep.
It takes coffee to perk it up,
and who knows the master plan
of the universe?
Kids we are and kids we’ll be,
until we wake up on ourselves.

Do you know a mature notion?
It’s not here,
in every man for himself,
in the little world we’ve made,
in the societies we’ve engendered
that make you obey it
like it’s a real group
but blames its faults on individuals,
a world that does not know itself.

Good works and technology,
you can’t move the field there.
We have consciousness to change,
and that’s not a thought process.
The consciousness changes into its larger type.
I’m puttin’ this in your hands,
the ideal for the ages,
the thing we’ve been workin’ at all along.
It’s not a messiah you see.
It’s not wings from outer space.
You do the change and me,
and we get bigger than ourselves.
Blinded I am?