Reality sucks— someone who has not been initiated into the mysteries, the world’s suckless stuff. There is just so much to reality. It’s not slow motion. It’s got things on it. A dog licking your feet can be paradise leanin’ down on yah, the boy snuggled up to you a ballon of how the Earth feels in sun’s arms, the writing of a poem the feelings of the universe taking note it’s good to be alive. Shut up, I don’t trust you/believe you. [phrases spoken simultaneously] Reality sucks, doesn’t it? I was in his pencil box. I think that’s the only thing you look at. Walt Disney, can we say he had fingers? Of course he did. He just didn’t put ‘em in his movies. He wasn’t concerned with reality. Now where do we look at to be true? This is a strange one: I’m molten lava; I make the world a better place. This man’s sexual sins, his penis as it looks at children, Krakatoa. My God the music in this program, it sets the world straight. Read a few poems and see. Can we heal pedophilia? Can we change the world? I hold you accountable on this blog! I’ve pulled down my social media pants and given you something to think about. Where does reality lie with us? It’s bigger than sin, our existence. I call you on your shots. You take the world and make it a paper-mâché. You take a black kidney and throw it away. You don’t know how to face reality. I’m on your gun. You just squeeze people, take them in the social room and make them comply. You are not concerned with what works better or what works best. You want people to believe you/obey you. [phrases spoken simultaneously] You think I’m talking to a police officer’s gavel, or the lawmakers. Can we address society? Blog reader, don’t get angry, but you’re the society I’m talking to. And you thought Big Brother’s a government. Flag my blog. Bring us to the border with this. This is terrible. Nobody’s ever a piece of paper. We are living, breathing, human beings, each trying to make sense out of life. I’ve taken my disorder and done just that. I’ve gotten at the world that way. I’ve figured out things, taking my penis as a flashlight. Tell me that’s not the quick of our social selves, the genital stick up. It brings heart matters to bear. It lollipops the whole world. It gets us clean, if you dare to shine God with it. Am I making you sorry you’re such principle ass keepers? I can show you how to be human, and you don’t rob anyone of their meaning in time. You only rob meaning to rob meaning. This is America. We look down the gun at pedophiles, and my don’t the world believe us? We don’t care how spiritual you. You have no right to say anything. I don’t think you know the Apostle Paul, for surely if you’re not Christian, you’ve been raised in a Christian country. How many Christians did he kill, before he outshined Jesus as the principle Bible teller? Would if he killed children? You know I’m talkin’ executions. Now tell me I’m dirt, and redemption’s impossible. I think you killed Jesus. Wasn’t he a victim of sexual sin? And they shot him for it. I’m sorry I don’t believe in your goodness, in your virtue. I think you’re just as mean as me, when I held a boy down and ruined his life, and he cried. What did I say? How detached from reality I was. I couldn’t feel his pain. I’ve wanted to apologize. You don’t know where we have to go to heal this thing called human. We have to get down into the blood, into those spaces where we are cut off from one another, where human doesn’t fit, animal reigns. Somehow we have to transform those moments. How to bring people there? We have to get down into humanity’s stuff. And do we do that with Hitler killing Jews? It’s an example we wear to try to stop this among us. How many Jews say that? Where are Jews today? Still under the gun. You don’t want them there, and you want to protect children, and you want no more atrocities. Am I right? Where do we go? I’m showin’ yah. Will you just listen and not shoot. Will you be there for me too? It’s a reality seer, the direction of our travel. Will you see that? Will you know it’s there? Survivalist, I’m so sorry I failed the test. You don’t know what I’m doin’. You just think I’m a piece of paper. I’m taking my very life and placing it in your hands. I’m obeying God. I can’t get any bigger than that. I have the greater love. I’m not sorry for it/ashamed of it. [phrases spoken simultaneously] It’s not a box office hit. I think you’ll shoot me for it, but I’ve given you the formula for world change. This poem is just the beginning. Have you seen it yet? There is no one we cut off from humanity if you don’t want anyone cut off from their humanity. I can’t say this loud enough. I need you to see reason and the purpose of Jesus, come to terms with your humanity. It’s a rising sun. It doesn’t hurt people that wipe away guns from your eyes. It stays away from harm altogether, if it can help it. Can I reach you? Can this just be the two of us sharin’ bread? I’ve put my life on the line. Is that worth nothing, the sacrifice? I got this house full of living people inside, and I love them all. I’m a house keeper, and I field house. It’s my primary reality, where I spend the most of my time. They don’t know I’m under the gun. I don’t defeat them. I’m their Santa Claus, and a whole handful are dogs. They are so innocent. What are you going to do with that, tear out everybody’s hearts there? I want you to know the people you kill, if you should surrender to armed impulse to uphold a reality you don’t live up to. Now I continue with my life, even if you don’t mercy me. I do not know what God has in store, but I think Jesus died on the cross so I don’t have to. Tell me you only feel outrage. Tell me that’s all you feel. You’re alarmed over me. I don’t think you’ve gauged a piece of paper correctly. I am not the danger one here. You are the gun. You are not lawlessness. You’re something worse. The force of good in law you turn to slay. I haven’t had a chance to say this: how we doin’? If I just spit on you, feeding time. I really wanna make you happy with yourself. I want to show you goodness that does not kill. I want to hold your hand and give you a reality that doesn’t suck. Open up to the depths of life. Get out of right and wrong. We’re up there in the sky in splendid love. Can you meet me there? Can you come to my garden? I’ve planted so many roses for you. Read each one. Hi Luna. Are we nuts? Hi Lisa. My Rottweilers I’m showin’ yah. I’m in the way with them. They finish me off. I am so in love with them it hurts. I worry over their human. It’s my job with them. I’m bringing them to us. I think some know of the possibility. There, I hold a boy’s hand in a Rottweiler’s fur. It’s such a clean love. All that beauty, I don’t need to take it and eat it. Regal a Rottweiler is, standoffish in Time’s Square, but I can get into some lovin’, you know? This change, a boy is glad and bears it. He doesn’t have to hold himself there a freight train. He gets that good love a Rottweiler gives, and they just steal your heart. No here Luke, follow Us. This is brain, the trail towards enlightenment, come boy. [heard sung, my voice and guitar] What does the red line mean? That fundamental safety line, no one violates. What tempered glass is the horse driven? We actually go to spiritual enlightenment. You grow out me. But how? Run in the house the consciousness of Christ child. I thought about it. Know, a national thought a ride. And it is a blessing isn’t it. Until it becomes the official record, some Disney Land that you’ve come out with in the world, that will be your attack point this is reality bliss. Now tell me again you’re America land of the free. Fort Myers Beach, is it the origins of a better society? A beautiful place, thank you for the sun golden.
Tag: Jesus Christ
The Christ Runner
Names, is that the name of God? Would you call him Jesus? I don’t understand God’s son. Would a man give birth to a dog? The son is the substance of his father and his mother, and where is she in this picture when we talk about the Trinity? No God wore. You’ve made up a family to give God sustenance in your lives. You don’t understand God. Who can? Come on let’s see God. I don’t know where He comes from. Could we call Jesus a bastard child? Honestly, do you think his society did not? Where do we go here? I think Mary escapes to Ein Karem to avoid being stoned. Oh hi Elizabeth you’re pregnant too out of wedlock. Now can we capture sexual sin? No he’s king of the world. It was all a plan: die on the cross for our sins. And we’ve made up another story to grapple with God in man. Who was Jesus? A little child born out of wedlock, and everybody taunted him for it, and he really suffered. Is this in the Gospels? No, it’s logic and common sense. The people of his day hated adulterers and bastard children. Can the pedophile say that today? Oh my goodness I’ve crossed lines imaging sexual sin, and how we use that to hate people. Can you imagine a God of hate? I think some people do. Is that you? Take Jesus by the hand, and he will show you love for your neighbor, even if your neighbor sins. Compassionate Christ, how that contradicts your world order. I can’t imagine Jesus stoning people. Go to hell you sinner! You didn’t vote for me! And that’s the Christ? How conveniently laid out in your plans to force the world on your belief. Thank God there’s God, the truth of things, you know? no matter what you believe. Jesus Christ, I’ve not counted him exactly. He gives us roads, all the way to enlightenment/paradise. [worlds spoken simultaneously] Our meeting him determines the course. He’s not a throw away deity. He gauges sin, and helps us cross it. We are loved there. We bring him deity to us, can find that Christ in ourselves, the divine element, and transfigure this in man. These are later stages the Gospels know not of. I think you’re seein’ Jesus, the Christ in our lives, spilt by Christianity. The religion does not capture the man. It’s legal framework whereby to tax sin, a framework of belief to tail the universe on, a holier-than-thou that puts everyone else in hell. This is the religion for the ages. This is God’s total store for man in planetary being alive. Immensity knows no other look than this. What medieval planet have you been hanging out on? I don’t think Jesus would recognize himself here. Would you crucify him, goes the refrain, [above and below lines lyrics from “Would You Crucify Him?”] if he walked right here among you once again? Now that’s John Michael Talbot. He put down his sword and became a religious man. What do we do with him today? Oh John, you are so faithful to the Lord. Is that a TV program? Where is that window you opened on the truth of Christ? It’s right here in the lyrics of this poem. There’s positive paintings of the way of Christ. You take the ball and run with it. The ways of divinity ride here. What happens if you destroy it, the value of Christ? You’re witnessin’ a new reality if you don’t. We’re all here in airplanes evolving Christ. We’re lookin’ at time. We need a revolution here on earth. There’s no way to avoid it if we want to actually survive. The unity consciousness, a consciousness of Christ, hello? He’s good for heroes. Yes, he is good for heroes, and the Gospels leave that out.
This poem was came about as a result of a conversation with a curator of the blog Some View of the World. The link will take you the post of theirs where the conversation took place, quite short on their end, and this is the second poem resulting from that. The other one you can read there.
The Meaning of Christopher Robin
A poem by Donny Lee Duke
Every mind scattered. People lost their feet. Their hearts swallowed. It was the season of the day. It was this creature they saw comin’. Even a killer we don’t make stink as bad. He’s the monster we’re all warned about, as far as I’m concerned, the vice president of soon to find out. He’s an incredibly unwelcome human being. I know who you are. You are not the world is watching. How littler you are— world teachings meant for the derelict and the hole. I oppose you with my very breath. I spit in your eye. You are loathsome to me. You are the reason we have sin. Just stand up and sing, will yah, like you’re a demigod. This is contemporary we have an outcast; we have someone who sins in the worst way one can today. There’s Jesus the bastard child. His society loathed him because he carried sexual sin a birthmark. God was not his father to his villagers. Now the Gospels make sense. Does gay matter? He carried the cross to all his contemporaries before the present time. They hunted him down and made him suffer hell’s wrath. Now you think the pedophile your worst enemy, not understanding the role he plays. You’ve been indoctrinated for this. It’s on everybody’s lips. It’s not who you are. It’s not even what you’re about. You’re just succumbing to the time spirit’s rage, and you mistake world opinion for very God. Can I get you to stop this? Can I get you to be human, the real thing, someone who mates with divinity? You’re lookin’ at the road to healing, the way a pyromaniac catches fire with the one principle aim on his list: keep fire out of harm’s reach. Imagine the plight of the pedophile. Do you think he can do it, give a child what he needs and not sin? We’ve reached world conclusion if we can’t bring it all together and not act out our harmful impulses. You think I’m a madman don’t you, taking the guts of the matter and putting them on the table. I am that thing among you shuttling what will bring us wholeness to ourself. We have to live with desire. No one can take it from us, not even the spiritual path. Alone with your desire, my God the pedophile no way, you dirty rotten bastard. And the strength of this prohibition counsels the opinion of every person except the mature in heart, and it’s all wrapped up in hate. Can we count how many pedophiles are around children? A spooky answer, you might imagine millions all over the world. It’s a bona fide human condition. Well what’s the way out of this? We’d have to recover a whole way of being human, holistic. We’d have to be the right answer. May I introduce myself? I’m world poem. I am the poetry that brings you by the hand through desire and takes you to the world.
Although it’s of course for a general audience, this poem was written specifically for Rod Hemsell, a founder of and lecturer at The University of Human Unity in Auroville. He’s a longtime member there and an important voice in the community. I posted the following comment on his Facebook page on a post where he advertises his new book of poetry and photography, although the photos are by someone else:
“I’ve sent you material in the past, and you’ve ignored me. I understand that the time spirit, world opinion, especially American opinion, says you must ghost someone like myself. But I would guess you would not call your book an expression of the time spirit, of world opinion. It’s talking about oneness, the Self in all, not surrendering to jealousy, hatred and fear. It’s precisely here I make my point. I doubt you will talk to me kindly and openly, but you would at the very least read my poem?
I’ve watched two videos of your new book, and I will tell you how what I’ve seen and read strikes me. I think the poetry is good, but it’s not something I can get my hands on. By that I mean it’s high thoughts and feelings, ideals we want to live up to but almost never do, a hypocrisy your poetry speaks about. It’s not down to earth, as much as that seems to be your aim in using the photos you’re using. The photos are beautiful, but I think to express the meaning of the poem they could be more human and less raw nature. I would ask about the inspiration of the book, whether the lines of the poetry came whole into your mind via the inner voice, or did you have to compose them, however much you felt to be under the rush of inspiration. And the photos, did your inner vision choose many or any of them to use with the verses?
Whether or not your poetry comes via the inner voice I don’t know, but I want to show you a poem that does, where much of the media used also comes from inner vision. It’s different that most anything being written today called poetry. It’s also different than the poetry of the past, as it’s an expression, in my opinion, of the muse of poetry today. And it’s written by someone who has learned to receive inspiration in the manner the poetry school of Sri Aurobindo teaches, if I may call it that, speaking of The Future Poetry and all that. What’s really different about it is that it doesn’t speak a level above everything but speaks right here where we’re at. I’m leaving a link to the poem I’m describing: https://harms-end.com/2022/07/24/trace-through-ideas-about-the-city-of-human-unity-the-fifth-read/“
He deleted the comment. I wrote the poem before I discovered that, or I should say my muse did, as it could see his reaction without the aid of the five senses. I’d really like him to read this poem, if not also the one I sent him a link to, hence this explanation of whom it was written for, and I’d really like the reader to see the brick wall I’m facing.