I Share Children with Her

photo by Donny

You give healing meat its substance.
You’re way out there,
right in the slot of truth.
I don’t think anyone understands this.
You’re a miracle:
nobody’s touched you;
all the help you get.
You really show people somethin’.
Most people don’t know it’s there.
They’re too based in ordinary.
Okay we climb mountains,
keep goin’,
just press on.
We’re goin’ somewhere.
I hoped you a-l-w-a-y-s thought me u-g-l-y,
you thought me friend. [this and above line heard sung in the voice of Don Williams to tune of "You're My Best Friend"]
Our best teacher,
we’re talkin’ soul.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Think Oil.
You hear soldier.
Oh man you don’t stink.
You’re chasin’ a good one.

Okay you got the preamble.
I would like soul need determine time.
I want to talk on the level of soul.
Where do we bring this out?
Is it evident anywhere?
How do we talk about soul?
Do we meet it with the divine?
Where’s it goin’?
Where’s it come from?
How long it’s been?
Does it explain us?
What is about soul that makes its process?
Does it rule time?
Where can it be found?
Is it perfect?
Can we touch it?
How does it find us?
Is that all there is?
How do you add it to the program?
Can we say it’s substance?
How big is it?
Does it search us?
What are its parameters?
Can we get at it?
Is it Black,
or would all colors fit its lifestyle?
Is it here among us?
When does it die?
Is it our only project?
How did it get here?
How do we communicate with it?
Does it know us
as the thing that does?
Is it our true nature?
Is this soul a concept or a divine?
And we go round and round.
The soul asks more questions than it answers,
but we can look at it.
Can you?

It’s here.
I think it’s from another planet.
It’s put us on.
That planet’s another sphere,
the reality behind reality.
We are its goalkeepers.
We fumble ourselves all the time.
We don’t know how to do it,
take soul and measure up.
It’s the substantial reality behind us.
It’s put itself here.
I think that’s phenomenal existence.

The soul is a dome
phenomenal existence fits inside.
It was here first.
I don’t think we cant touch it with our hands.
It’s not the reality we see.
It’s got our backing.
Where do individual souls fall in?
Let’s say they’re here.
This is not pepper spray.
You can help put ‘im on
that things might get hurt.
This is the ballpark.
Hello soul—
this is an individual flavor of existence.
It’s got cans on it.
They go through time.
That’s the flavors it carries around.
It’s expressing your life.
See the flavors?

All these tunes
express our life to us.
So many layers to the soul.
It’s a great big getaway.
There’s nothin’ else to it;
it’s the ground of its own being.
It represents us in time,
and we are representative figures
of this thing called soul.
We express it everyday,
and our body is its leeway.

A deformity,
an ugliness,
awful, isn’t it?
You’ve needed that to get along.
If you look at the world as a container,
that doesn’t fit.
All things are expressive of soul,
even the ugliness.
The world touches you there
like it’s probing you.
Awful, isn’ it?

Keep going.
This expresses you,
the dynamics of this life.
You’re carrying that with you
for an example set.
You have to learn from this example.
It’s so pressing,
and it’s so physical.
I think everybody knows I love little boys.
How ugly is that?

I am one case where the focus
bounced off the movie.
Sure enough he was.
I came to souls in the room.
They were everywhere.
Try fucking a soul.
They don’t want you to do that.
You don’t abuse a soul.
You just don’t.
It’s the basis of reality.
It’s got bigger than life.
There’s no abuse possible.

Are you expressing soul when you abuse somebody?
You’ve stopped doing it
a soul becomes visible.
We are all relating souls.
They transcend time.
You cannot harm them.
Violation is impossible.

Life is a field for the soul to work out deities.
The human soul is not divine.
It’s something more fundamental.
It’s the substance of deity.
We don’t hinder it
as it brings deity to the human room.
It’s expressive of deity.
It helps us put that on.
That’s our purpose here.

Can you see the soul bringing up life?
This is the arisal of everything.
The substance of soul has a field to play.
It’s putting on itself
in ever increasing rooms.
I don’t think you can touch bottom
of the soul’s play.
Can you imagine infinities within infinities within infinities?

And here we are in our room.
So much accompanies us,
so much to do.
Where do we go with this?
Towards the substance of soul.
We layer ourselves.
What has made it to the surface
is a little play in time,
this little portion of us
we so mistakenly confuse with us.
It has all of us behind.
My God the soul,
it’s there in the room
the container of existence.

Jerrycans of abuse,
I was the orphanage.
That’s our predicament here.
We’re bastard children
a mommy and a daddy have left behind.
We can’t see our divine parents.
Divine origins allude us.
We only know we’re here
getting spanked by time,
clusterfucked.

We don’t know how to stop abusing one another.
We just don’t know how to help one another.
This is a horrible place.
It’s a prison house.
It just sucks us,
and time’s got its finger up our ass.
Dry, lifeless orgasms
is where life meets us.
We are probed.
I say again we are probed.
Our greatest joy can turn to pain
in the happenstance of death
everywhere surprises us.
We are dangerous keepers.
We can’t trust anyone.

Real amateurish
your whole monstrous tirade.
No, and I like it,
but I’m waking up.
The policy of monsters
we are bring to ourselves.
Are you really waking up?
Jeremiah 19:9 the most monstrous of all.

Do you know what?
The city didn’t rush in to defend you.
I’m curios to know why it didn’t.
You’re a monster.
They are making names
to make sense of their city.
It’s purple passion
not heart attack.
I had a hate here with wine.
This is the poison we all drink,
to be to ourselves our city is good.

Now are you ready for Christmas?
And here comes the soul.
That’s what keeps us together,
keeps us from falling apart.
It’s music you hear on the radio
when the world had just caved in,
and you know that song's talking to you
everything’s gonna be okay.
It’s that sudden smile you get
from some perfect stranger,
and it’s like a kiss from Heaven
because the rain has come.
It’s your mommy’s warm hands
washing your tender parts
not wanting anything for herself,
and you are seven or eight.
It’s an ice cream truck
comin’ round the corner,
and you have just enough for a cone.
It’s the great big beautiful sun
shining down on you
like you mean somethin’.
It’s the breeze
wiping the sweat off your face,
and you have just run.
It’s the lovely afternoon
your family sang,
and you will never forget those moments.
It’s your father’s satisfied hands,
and you’re his little boy in them
wanting so to be like papa.
I’ve embroidered soul
where life keeps you,
and it’s good.
This is the backup plan.
This is our special moment.
This can ride the day
if we lean forward
and let the soul lead.

It’s all about soul,
the house of life.
I’m afraid
the depths you have to go to find that
are deeper than the world.
You hear that
these are possible inner journeys.
You go inside,
consciously, thoroughly,
until you reach soul.
Did you know you can find it?

A conscious arm
you fall into it.
I think unconsciously we arrive there often,
else we would die I’m afraid
cut off from soul.
We have to come up for air.
This world is a heavy dress.
We take it off
in moments sublime of dreamless sleep.
I bet you didn’t know that noon.

In raw material sleep
we can find the drop off point of matter
and soul dream
larger than time.
We have journeyed to the soul.
It’s not a substance material make.
It’s the first substance of Spirit,
and it’s got no bookends to it.
A receptacle of our Spirit open and true,
that’s the phenomenon of soul.
This is the causeway.
This brings us to Ourself.
This brings us to the divine meeting in the room.
May come some horses
with some contrary will.
Yeah exactly.
What is adequate?
Is that adequate
in the fatal moment,
in the fatal heartbeat here?
Soul expressive of deity,
that’s meaning
that has us all by the horns.
Cans.
Go ahead drive her,
drive her over.
Pay attention to people.
You want a soul
happen so matter of fact.

Now let’s come back.
We have to put on soul.
If you sat regular times…
Bruno!
You always have to watch out for Bruno.
He’ll take your underwear off.
You have to do a preacher’s build.
You check in
and withdraw.
You look out,
and the watch ends
on visible things.
You have to come together on soul.
You have to see beyond life.
There,
it has your hand.
Let it lead you now.

You have to get somewhere in life.
The soul is your regard.
It will take you to deity.
It will remove all obstacles.
It’s your great ship.
It’s the navigator.
It comes to you in dreams
and exercises the world
tonight,
and you can see things clearly.
We help it along
by being ourselves.
That’s Alpha Zero,
enlightenment stark.
This is its great evolution path,
and we are fingers of its evolution.

We do not abandon us,
and we help each other clearly
when we come together on soul.
There’s where the abuse stops.
There’s where we know our promise,
for it is the soul that leads us.
The soul we are,
the substance of ourselves
leading ourselves.

I’ve called on you tonight
to be the witness of soul.
It is bigger than leeway.
It is so much bigger than time.
It’s us in the ground of us.
No gap, no divide,
prevents it from helping us.
It’s here.
It is only blindness separates us from it,
and check it out in a poem.
You know I’ve opened your eyes.
Should end right there,
I’ve told you violence.
I just turned and turned around and saw the soul.

I Understand It

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

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Belief in a Miracle

photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

One of the ones that let me in,
that touched my soul,
profound mailbox.
I came homeless
year after year after year.

We’re good.
We don’t understand your concept,
the jolt in the room.
Let’s keep busy
so we don’t have to reply.
Is this license
to just take the trouble to ignore someone?
Seldom I got a reply.

The root task
and how profound it is.
It’s indeed the world.
It’s indeed larger than the universe.
I can’t carve this out for you.
I can only sing.

I don’t know the Rumpelstiltskin of your life’s work.
Your struggles are a Banyan tree to me.
See the consciousness there?
It has handles on it.
Study books and thought process,
I don’t think you’ll arrive at the explanation of the universe.

Can we hold a tree?
What do we do with time?
How do we say the world to ourselves?
Do you hear the inner speech?
It’s spoken softly in so many inner ears.
You’re readin’ it.

It’s what you hold in your hands
in an ancient text of wisdom.
Not everyone has the fire.
Not everyone can read the text right.

And we’ve come back to your story:
not everyone has the inner fire,
though they long to see the universe as it is,
though they long to be more than what they are.
Can you grasp this?

You light it that way:
the object of your romance with time
the inner fire
to see the Invisible.

I think you’ve accredited universities with this task.
I think you’ve stopped at representations.
I think you’ve stopped at outer process.
Hidden meaning.
Self-doubt see
in your own blue pen.

Who am I cooking?
Jessica Frazier
the academic.
Have a little
finger pointing in your own direction.
The TVS fixed.
It was incredibly difficult.

Why do you believe in miracles?
I’m standing one.
You hear my measurements?
The boy in the yard.
Bigger then reality
I have not made them.

For years I’ve been sending emails to scientists and academics, or I’ve commented on a tweet of theirs, usually with links to something I’ve written involving inner exploration. Less than a handful of times have I gotten a reply, and when I have it’s just to express thanks for reading them, not to engage me over the importance of such experience. This is the latest example of such an email. If you’ve been reading my latest poems, I’m trying to show where we fail as a world. Here, it was not from reasons of moral outrage, but it was one of the titanic: the best minds aren’t. It was from an ‘expert’, i.e., a person influencing world opinion on an official level, in this case a person assigning meaning to the world, not listening to someone trying to get their attention, someone who just might have something valuable to add to the conversation. Click on the link at the end of the email, read the article, and tell me that’s just not possible.

[Subject] “Communicating with someone, and learning what they have to teach us…

learning to adapt our view to the information they give.” From your YouTube video Gadamer. Hello, I’ve just read your article in Psyche “Ancient Indian texts reveal the liberating power of metaphysics”. I’d like to get to the heart of the matter as quickly as possible please. “We can do something extraordinary: our mental parts can climb out of the window of the body, and up into the higher levels of reality.” What a wonderful statement worded so well, but are you speaking literally of actual hands on spiritual experience, or are you talking about using your imagination and having high thoughts? I think it’s the latter, and it’s precisely here your article doesn’t capture truth, that being what’s actually going on or has. “I might live in 2022 in Oxford, but I can share the experiences of persons in Thailand or the US, and imagine different lives I might have lived. With the help of scientists and philosophers, I understand levels of the cosmos that lie beyond the senses, and can access realities, values or ideas that cannot be destroyed with any mere physical body.” What it seems not only you are missing, but also the scientific establishment and the humanities, as university teaches them, is that it’s possible to have the experiences that the mystics (or metaphysians describe). They are not only basing their ideas on the use of their imagination or on their thoughts. Many if not most are basing them on firsthand experience. Furthermore, though beyond this email, the authors of the Upanishads and the Vedas did not compose their writings but heard them via the inner voice. Do you know the meaning of Agni in this context? In other words, the texts came whole and ready made from their inner vision, one or a few lines at a time, and they wrote them down, something not possible unless you’ve had the experiences the texts they wrote describe, what would open a rishi or seer to such inner vision.

Although I can give ample examples of the latter, the inner voice writing one’s seer-poetry (you can look that up if you want), I will only give an example of the heart of the matter of the email. It would be quite something if you even read it. There’s just so much vying for our attention, and something from out of the blue and from someone unknown, well, that’s usually what automatically gets sacrificed to the expediency of time:

The Spoiler
What’s bigger than the universe? Hang on, What’s bigger than everything?

The Dream Company episode 12

(the video Donny’s dream is about)

Listen to episode 12

Nithish begins the episode with a dream where he forges Thor’s hammer from the energy from two stars. Then he shares a second dream where he ignored the urge to meditate in a lucid dream, because he was afraid of being harassed by evil nuns. After that, Douglas shares a dream where he went to a pizzeria with Donald Trump and played a game of pool. Next, Donny recounts a dream that he feels shows how Nithish comes across in a video he made and posted on Nithish’s Youtube Channel. Lastly, Midhun shares a dream where he encountered a giant eye.

photo by Jana

A podcast of practical demonstrations of dream interpretation given by a four-member dream group in India that has been together for many years. We show how to interpret dreams, using the same method mother nature uses in giving us our dreams: wider than the world, as flexible as a snake, as irrational as the path of the wind, as unorthodox as God on Earth, and as natural as the soul of things. Join us.