Spoken word poetry, till I get it, I leave it alone. Wow, it’s left alone. In case of good poetry break this glass. I just sit here and discover, letting the word explain itself in the giving of lines and in the hurtin’ of the world.
If I show you the pain will you stop it? Will you even know it’s there where you feel your pain? Oh no another Holocaust movie all about bein’ numb. I can’t give you this star-glow to ride the world on its tongue feelin’ people. I’m not a robot I’m free, but the price of my freedom is your pain, your wellbeing I feel like my own.
It’s shoots me all the time, or it gives me stars. I’m there with you in the delivery room of another bucket of world today, huh?
I see through all these sleeves of world maker’s art, a world upon world in the moments with mine, a conglomerate of worlds of this group of people and that, of this person alone, of all the mini worlds that make up this world that we call Earth. Can you see that simultaneously with your own? I taste you there. I know you’re there.
How do I communicate this to you so you feel it too like you have your children’s hands in your own, like your best friend’s smile, like your mother’s love? I don’t die there, but I question God all the time and Sri Aurobindo.
These are terrible times, and they get ready for tomorrow terrible too, with a past just as terrible starin’ us in the face. Let the good times roll, and my God they do. How sweet life can be in its gathered moments, how manageable, but why does it always add up to this: life is not a bundle of joy; life gets us in corners and does bad things to us. Can you understand that?
Why does the world go on like nothin’s happenin’, like it’s free and easy and clean, so standardized? They scream on the news bad news to an audience of normal, of tie your shoe, of everything’s alright here, ain’t it? Not in every bubble. So much quiet desperation it has been said.
Do you know the rovin’ hellhole? Somewhere on Earth at any given time they’re eating each other alive. It’s the worst place on the planet for a moment. Hell swallows them whole, unbelievable cruelty, and nothin’ to redeem them. Goddamn that stinks.
Alight I’m blessed. I live in a little pocket of warmth and forgiveness. I have opened the doors to humanity in the stadium of my room. I ride there all day figurin’ you out. I take great thoughts to the skies, but I must remember I’m a low man on the totem pole in your eyes. I do nothin’ here that grants you my room, that shows what I’m doin’ larger than life.
A poet of world standing I am not. I’m a poet among many thousands in the availability of today, and no poetry comes along and wallops your head or smites your heart from my pen. I just spit in the breeze. That’s the trash dumpster, and here let me give it another poem. I put my dogs to sleep, and I wish you goodnight.
All united and happy they think. Come here Luna. Get your head… [vision of Luna Rottweiler putting her head in a hole in the ground] One doggy at a time. Oh fuck I’m on Candid Camera. He’s just gonna go for it. Well then the surprises and bad secrets, heart is ruined on the same thing: waging war on the Fourth of July. What’s the significance of your dog growing? Into a likeness of you. What I didn’t have: put every slept of it complete. My God, they should be spilled.
What is it this time? Dr. Milk Powder— I haven’t called you; I’ve had enough, is that the plan? You know he’s lost his boy. They’re travel uneasiness way to stutter. Don’t you see? Alongside with it it’s real. You know his boy’s called not in awhile. Suffer this, and it just last of people’s hittin’.
Do you like people? Is this fruit juice? Why is it we always hate somebody, run there all the time? You really enjoy this life don’t you? It seems all fair winds. Need to pull her pregnant with the grenade. It will get you every time. Just look around the world. Just look at your neighbor.
Do you know how we get along? Do you know how we get through this? We don’t be monsters to each other. We don’t be mean. We try to be kind and giving in our painful moments. This is overcoming the world and getting better at yourself. It’s a love angle, and we need more love. That house definitely, where you put your hat off, where you sit around. Love those people, the people you’re life-in’ with. You don’t know how much this counts.
It’s all an effort I know. We have to overcome ourselves to do it sometimes, but we have to give this baseball to all the standin’s in the world, so we can have a world that works. Is that so hard to believe?
You know the world is full of holes. Even the divine is negligent and will crush you to make the world, will just stand by and watch. These are not pleasant times, but we have to endure them, tryin’ to find joy inside, tryin’ to give our children a good time.
What else is there? Spirituality’s a pole we lean on. There are surprises in consciousness if we let them. There’s a world maker’s art you can see. These are deep down inside, past the underwear, past all that gets in the way. There is strong inside, even after you’re shattered.
This world’s a dream maker’s art, so much more than show, but this is a common dream we are having that the significance of dream shows. We’re living out a representation telling a story, and all our lives add to that One involved, and all our lives keep going. We’re where time loops around itself a great big mechanism of being that has definite boundaries that we can cross and get out of here after the whole has been complete. We’re goin’ somewhere together, and yes some escape before time, but they’ll end up on another world soon.
This great big ship has a destination you know, something worth time, something bigger than ourselves and is ourselves at the same time. I’ve gone out of the universe you see and been myself on high.
Stupid me, I describe experience like you’ll believe it, but you can kill me and it’ll still be there. It can’t be erased from time. I’m a nobody because of it, liftin’ up my room for you to see. It’s got crosses on it and monkey bars, because I’m just like you, but I’ve been given a breath of supernal air, and I need to tell you about it. It’s affected my vision. I see the world.
I’m just like everybody, but I don’t live like you inside. I live with you and inner vision. I get rocked by joys that fill my noon the outside world doesn’t bring me. I feel oceans of sadness I’m not in the world about. I feel existence pain, and when I walk outside, drive my bike through the town, the countryside, it’s a wonder-weft of miracle, and I feel every person I come across. I see the One inside, and all the many representations surround me. I can’t get over it.
Now I’m here with another poem. Let it ride the day if you read it, because it puts us together if you escape, because it’s here we learn to live again after your world has been taken away. Can you see me now? Can you hear?
I had to work in a cave last night. I’m afraid. Bring me back. Wastin’ the water when electricity was comin’. [sing verse]
Can we be expendable? I don’t even know if that’s the question. Do we just acquiesce to everything, ride out time like it’s a bump in the road? I feel my larger spheres pent up in here, and I know I’m expendable.
I don’t know how to find time. I’m just a hole in the ground in any largeness I make. People just want to get me for it, counting victims in my pen. A few loyal survivors have the guts to hear me and not have me taken off.
I just wanna do away with it all. Do you say that, overwhelmed by existence, how it doesn’t all work out, how you go home one day, and people have put a fence, blocking your access road, how you get slapped for kindness and sincerity, how you can’t even trust yourself to be good when your free will’s compromised by the shade from black night?
I’ve put on this flesh I know. A body of man I’ve put on. I wear existence’s sleeves, and sometimes I think it’s a punishment. I just want my boy to come home.
How do you know a poet’s worth? They remind you of yourself where you touch ground. They grab existence and almost show it to you. They tell yah where you’re at when you’re on the moon, and they will lay with you in hell if you’re sorry of the pentance you’re payin’. I’ve grabbed a purgatory slot. Hear my worth as I try to find my time today.
Who you be lookin’ for, someone with words better than me, someone who can grab the times today and get all Tennyson on yah? I’m alone with Shakespeare you know, grabbin’ his hat and puttin’ on my day, all sound and fury. I get all field on yah. I life this to you. I'm not an idiot. I’m a Neptune in the history of fishes.
I can get Barbra Streisand. I can put on symbols like they’re lunch. I can really tag you in the sound of these words when they’ve jumped off a cliff and pulled a child’s pants down to show you they’re lost there and grow up fighting any sticky business that puts you there.
I’m about a wheel and chain on the road to time. I want you to grow up and give chances out on freeways. I want you to be kinder than you are, not as clannish always in control. I want you to be better than that, not even giving me a word I’m supposed to touch.
I’m your poet today, like it or not, that brings poets’ meanings home. I’m Jack Field. Test my word in life. No edit summary.
This photo-poem was posted to Twitter/X February 11, 2024. In vision it came to post it here. All photos by the author except photo one, which is by Douglas
The barriers of time, I don’t think you ride them very well. We come up against them all the time. They’re in our shoes. They hurt a lot. You can’t see this for the daylight, the great big prison playroom we are in. It’s got walls to it intrinsically built into each one. That’s where our cameras go. That’s how we feel this test.
Your loved one’s on the other side of the room bakin’ pies. In symbolic meaning that’s a round of thought comin’ your way. You’re separated by time’s barriers. You can’t get at each other in the physical sense. Great big surprises come your way when you do, cramped experience that puts relationship to the test. You hold them there sweetly, and then you may never see them again.
You don’t know what’s up, what’s goin’ on. I’ve left my poem alone in a fire so heartfelt in love’s embrace. I can’t get at the tires, or maybe death’s got your door, and your dog’s died, the great big sloppy-lickin’ dog of your life, and no ma’am I haven’t just lost a dog. I’ve lost a reality so big it took up half my room. She was always there lickin’ paws next to my life. Losing her took my front teeth— my daughter you know.
She’s melting time’s barriers tryin’ to see me. I don’t think you know the cough of this universe. It’s horrifying. I see her damn near every day tryin’ to reach through vision to get me near to her. Death’s reality would spook you if you knew it’s there. I’ve muscle on this, but I’m pigeon-toed. I can’t just hold my girl like she’s right up against me. I hold her paw in some astronaut’s gleaming Interstellar there at the back of the house. The confines of death, they break us apart.
The muscle of time, do you know it’s there? It separates you from everything— one little lonely being at a time. Times barriers put us in a single physical space where we can’t figure each other out. We laugh out loud, then cry.
You’re a pickup truck that can’t pick anybody up. You hold yourself the station of the universe, but you can’t move a goddamn thing if others block you. They are themselves the center station too. The great paradox of life makes you powerless to act where you would give your right eye to act but cannot, in those places most meaningful to you you have no power over. You sit in time scaling your life, a sheer wall of belief and hard fact, never any top in sight. What are you doin’?
It puts us to the test. Time’s warriors bake and sell us at the flea market, but this is not why you’re here, and you last longer than Heaven, a safe haven at the back of the house to get our strength back but that can trap us too. We are so much bigger than death that blinds us all while we’re still alive. Hold your child close. Can you protect him from anything bigger than your arms of control? Fiend death my friend, he sucks. What’s the answer to all this? What are we doing?
The answer lies on a page in a WordPress blog? Definitely, if you know how truth presents itself. It’s not haughty and it don’t wear spears. It might even be embarrassing, hittin’ in society’s low spot. It would be uglier than the norm, the vehicle of truth, but it would shore you up with sincerity if you test it. It would be one among a mass that your truth sense recognize, because it is beyond belief in name and form. It’s not part of the system that ensnares you.
Come to my party? There’s no snaking you there. You just have to realize what’s been true all along, but that you have never seen because it’s so represent itself, and you only see the representation, the figure in time, or the one who has wings to be your figure of God behind it you thought about a lot but never really met. The scientist would just see a meaningless void.
Can’t you see I got your skies on? I’m not pollutin’ the skies. I’m not anything wrong. Well how about that? I hold my boy in love’s embrace, and we figured out time. That’s the challenger for your social skies. I’m not doin’ business. I’m a love angle on time to make us greater in it. That’s the vehicle in the room. Can you dig it?
The limits of time, they are both normal and strange. You can’t be in two places at once a sudden trapdoor to a greater life. You are either who you are upstairs or the little I down there livin’ life. I’ve seen this juxtaposition, where I got out of time. It was a railroad. Greater times are comin’.
Now I just comb my hair and wash my face and shoot my gun? No I land this in your lap reachin’ through a poem to you. It’s fresh meat now, but where will I be when I am dead, and you’re readin’ these words? Look around the room. Am I there a thought stroke?
That’s life, you know the big one. Strict society belt won’t even let you think this to yourself. I’m bein’ looked in on by me with a question: how much longer you runnin’ half the house? You will have a future integral with who you are on high. My God this is big, and we meet time’s barriers down the because in the room. I’m comin’ after you foldin’ time, a lesson in reality completely out of the script. You’re gettin’ that script.
I’ve come all the way from the ground up. I’m not an existential crisis. I know who I am. I’ve been shot that’s all, ghosted by most everyone, put out to pasture. What do you do with that, and you identify with the world, hold it close your livin’ self? You have gone out of time and been the big who we are, enough to see it, enough to be it to know it’s there.
I’ve seen outside the symbolism, outside the roles we play. Even if you call it a computer simulation, figuring the unknown with the known, whatever you call it, I’ve been in compassionate reality, the bigger reality beyond this one. I’ve seen the real thing. No one counts this as a thing to be known where animals food our feeding faces as our reality, no depth to it, no meaning, nothing behind, except Gods to worship and obey or enlightenment’s sweepstakes that bring you empty shell.
Can’t you see beyond time? What’s bigger than the universe? Is that just empty skies? What’s bigger than playpens? I’m a figure on that. So like the show to give you the universal accepted scapegoat as the one to show. I can’t get my name in public. I can’t even write it down anywhere near heard. Is that just because I’m lying?
Can I show you my flag? It’s not rainbow screwed. It’s your heartbeat and mine symbolizin’ time. It’s where everybody goes to school. It’s the time of day in this poem. It’s where we all meet at the end of the classroom. I’m sorry it’s me, but hello I’m yours.
The terror is only a being in time. The face of evil, It can’t get at that larger you in transcendence’s sphere. It has no power there. It can only rattle your cage. Anything it does to you it’s not doing to you but to the actor in that cage. This is the meaning of no harm can come to you.
It’s beyond time time's relevant, time's keeper, truth's formula, but it can act within time and space with impunity, with absolute, unhindered power. It is bigger than evil. It has eyes on you, not to save your life but to bring you home. It does not stare you down. It doesn’t even guide you with any advice. It’s up there. You’re down here, but it’s comin’ to meet yah. It’s comin’ to be who you are down here. This is the plan of Earth, what her victory skies.
You are a crossroads to that. We are at Earth’s great turning point to land ourselves there. I am a seed bearer that is all. I come to tell you what’s comin’, and if my voice don’t get out someone else will. This is the mystery time hides, why it put you in a straight jacket, why it won’t leave you alone. Can you understand me? Do you see what I’m doin’? I’m meetin’ you with your maker who is you. I’m solvin’ the mystery of time. I’m giving you wings to grow. Take my hand please, these worded verses, and make it all worthwhile.
Protracted, a polar bear’s smile. It’s gonna take a long time to reach Supermind. It’s not there at our feet. It’s not your garden grow. It’s not at the hoof of your horse. It has to be as common as a cold for you to see it. The more people up there for a moment’s gleam, it holds you up there breakout sweepstakes.
This area’s comin’ into our view portal now the hesitancy in time. It’s comin’ your way in poems Emily Dickinson’s undiscovered continent she looks out on from her pier. Rumi’s love poem says you can only see the sun by the sun. Did we see him there? Now this poet speaks in plain as day. I’ve reminded you of Supermind in Savitri’s care. I’m just the outcast that says it.
Now hold me close. You don’t have to do nothin’, just read the poem the miles that you work today, the poem that you reach today. It’s such a piano to look at the subway and see supernal skies. Stand the subway of time. Is that tomorra mornin’?
Emergency level truth’s barriers, time’s walls. There’s a lot goin’ on. Right at the turning point. Except for the money I wanna tell you somethin’. Your morality drinks beer. You’re not the captain of the ship people. You’re who we go to to take our stories off. Right here for you on your mark, get set… The restrict we have, we put it on things. We use safety to protect ourselves from safety. Actually a lot right here. We’re movin’ on. What’s your plan, bring us all to safety? That one சாவி, I’m inside a poem.
What’s the biggest love you ever had? The receipt is in the bag, and you’re probably torn apart by it. Good how you doin’? That’s the ode of life, our first knowledge of it. You can’t get over its size. It jumps out and bites you all the time.
There’s somethin’ here. Your love has nothin’ to do with it. It’s a list of hard. You can never reach it. Look at the dog. That’s payment of love let me tell you. The point of this somethin': Donny get your head out of your ass. Get so close makin’ it look like people look, hear their voices, hide their fears, and they are the lovers of your life.
You want me to tell yah this dangerous love? You look awful. Do it, love you in the perfection of love’s care, and you’re this simple little organism that must awake to itself as the horseman, that you are the starship, you are the unicorn, that shatters time and all barriers to arrive back at the house the One, who wears time as his robe and space as his molecule.
Ever the mystery of God finds God, and God himself is a station of the One, created before time began. He bids you a self-discovery bigger than himself but that can fit into an atom and a plant or any ring around the rosie, but only the human being can make it real to itself. The dog just loves its master.
Now I am clothed in time, but I have worn this identity in an unimaginable sphere, and that brief moment has determined all my life. I have to deal with God’s love putting me on those tracks again, day in and day out, and I have been given a load to bear that makes me hated by you. Only the most exceptional people, and they are few, will make my life easier with their care and concern, give the comfort you get every day from friends and family. I am almost completely alone in this world, and I don’t think you can grasp this isolation it hurts so.
So I have taken the world what to make of it, and I have found God. Wrapped in unimaginable mystery, he holds my hand and lets me see things you don’t and gives me keys to man’s change, and I can still love my boy and my best friend and my dogs. I can still love the world. I can love mankind. I can love it all because I have gone through a holocaust of human abandonment, and I discovered what love is. God is love my friend. God is love.
photo of the author by a camera salesman, image by the author
I wanted to die. Everybody knows how to die. Sufferin’ from panic disorder my only friend. I have no comfort in anyone, and this woe is me will not say it properly. I cannot believe I have no worth to anyone. I’m just a field of crap, and I have seen God’s eyes, feel the world’s pain like my own.
I sit in a height of thought where almost no footing is. I’ve taken you there in our thought realms unawares. The All-Negating Absolute has me by the throat, and even God is buried in immensity. I cannot discover God one last time as who we need in immensity.
3:33, 28-years-old, I can’t give God the proper numbers. He is too right and wrong. Mexican, He took my pants off and raped me at seven. It hurt too much to tell anybody. I was cleaved.
Why am I telling you this? Afraid to tell anybody, I put back action comin’ up in the rear. Squealin’ inside me, they crossed death too a courier of the same disease, those little tummies.
I can’t give you molten lava and expect you to cherish me. I can’t even say my name. I’m a brick in a wall that you don’t identify with, bricks in the same wall.
Up here, I’m a way to photography that wall, to hold it out open to daylight. I’m a measure of that peace, but you can’t come to terms with me. I’ve sinned to much for God cares, or I remind you of sin. I’m an enigma with an open door. God the carnage at Troy, sit back everybody and tell me what hero came home. The canonical field of Troy.
Do it again, I stand before you now. Will you hear me? We swim in oceans of blood. Don’t underestimate life. There’s a moment before you when you can give it to the challenge it tasks a man with, and he must stand alone in immensity and be the voice no one wants to hear turning every ear on to a future in ideas that will save us all come that future, whether I’m the voice that says them or not.
See me today sittin' with you holdin’ your hand likewise tell me the world has turned its back to you too. A pencil in agony, it’s too early to tell, and I’m a measure of that immensity.
So brothers and sisters, I’d help you. Those tummies are in good hands. You cannot electrify them like that, put them on lurch little boys and little girls.
A needle in a haystack give you a tap. Raise Supermind, I’d be one in the world. Get ‘im a chair to latch from our very disease and bring us all to peace.
You know how it works: no ignoring you world enigma. My OMs are here. My front door’s open. Enjoy a body of ideas. Do it again, I’m really intercepting your thought.
We all understand tomorrow. I’m goin’ somewhere. It’s not dishes. I find my boy, bring him home to me and do something bigger than life right there in my homegrown. It’a about my consciousness and its see. I arrive my boy first, giving him healing. This is a new brand we will get good at so it can be mass-produced.
I’m in enlightenment shares healing my boy, a spiritual consciousness override. They’re dealing with a mass showdown. Right now it’s all black. Not even a pinpoint of light gives hope. It’s all gone, the whole save my boy plan, and spiritual practice has fallen by the wayside. I’m merely drifting to no ends.
I count my stupidities now, where I am half-crazy in rants. I sound good on a piece of paper: I’m gonna see my boy; I’ll get that spiritual consciousness again; it’ll all work out. I talk to his parents like I have the power of God. His parents have the absolute power to rule his life. I just make them mad and guard him more. You’d think I’d learn by now my voices are deceiving me; my voices are derailing me.
You’re in trouble. You’re on a stage. Are you there with anything bigger than life? The world’s not gonna listen to you. Everyone ignores your pleas, and your knowledge don’t turn anybody’s head. You just sit there and sing. This is the gist of life. This is how almost everybody feels the world. It’s impotence sings.
I’m a diamond in the hall. I’m on top of everything. I really know my business, and I understand the rise of the world. I don’t spit there. I feel humanity like it’s my very self. I can see the cutting edge of time. Movements I see, world shaping movements, that give me a great yard. I’m of few people see them. Now I come back to myself again. I’m not the stupid guy.
I have reason to believe my boy’s comin’ back to me, and I will put on the Silence once again. It’s evidence I can get big as the world in tellin’; I can wrap the hours around God, and I can make you examine yourself in your hands on children. You sit there and believe me, some of you, because you hear the angels sing in this poet’s gut. I’m a strong one you know, and I hold up the world an Atlas unknown. I really do it, take the ideas that change the world and transmute them into verse, one rocket at a time.
You know I’m there because I love you in that special formula that makes you feel me in the very place we meet, in the intimacy of a poem that’s got handles on it that bring the world closer to you as God sees it, dangerously in love.
You must have some grace to journey this day. It’s the vulnerability of a poet I give it, just role of bein’ hallelujah. [line heard sung to tune of Leonard Cohen’s song “Hallelujah”] You doin’ okay?
Control ball, now you record it. When night go for it Nithish, knock phone numbers. If he gets caught he’s killed. In Tamil the people who put worse seem very powerful. I wouldn’t put it that way. It’s just in good English we’re learning to mince the Devil with words. / I’ve localized the economy, and I’m takin’ English to new heights. It’s not artificial anymore, a poem that comes from inner sights.
I throw that devil out, but I show ‘im to yah. I don’t play with bones. I heal them in your shelf. What you got in the closet, I ring around the rosy. I’m not here to play dice. I wanna get to the bones of reality so that we can live here and not ruin each other. I wanna talk about it, you know? I wanna get down to bloody business. I wanna show you you a danger to let’s all grow up.
Will you find me? I’m blacklisted for that. Let me cough. That danger I present is right there among you. I’m not pullin’ any punches. I wanna heal myself and be free. I mean I wanna be a proper human being, no longer stupid. I don’t wanna block my own trail, get mad at the world because I stumped my own toe. I wanna forgive you for the same stupidity. I wanna look out on the world and understand the miracle of each day. I wanna see you in it the very Self I touch with myself, no cigars. That means I’m right with you.
I hear my stomach growl, and we all feed on each other like it’s conversation. I’m learnin’ not to do that. You would not know I feel you when I’m just some guy you’ve met on the road, or you’re my landlord or niece. I cry for you sometimes. Okay I cry for you a lot. It’s really rough in here, you know? There’s just so much pain. They got buried in an earthquake, a daddy holding his little child dead in a news story. Can you imagine how that felt?
I’m tryin’ to wash away the tears that we symbolize time, and I’ve found out somethin’. This is just a single show in a movie house with infinite theaters, and each one pulls on the next, and each one supports the next. We are its base, the last of the free worlds before Hell begins. Of course we suffer. We support Heaven. Our blood, sweat, and tears hold up Heaven, all the ascending worlds. It’s not cruel. Existence has to have everything in it. I don’t think we can measure how big it is, and we are not the only world that suffers, and we’re just innocent little children, dumb like animals.
There’s a comic plan, and our universe sucks on the Void to bring existence out of nothing. The devils rose, an unforeseen consequence, mad as hell existence be, and they rape us in broad daylight, and we don’t even see. We are a banquet of the Heavens and the Hells, and I am sorry; I can’t gauge all the worlds in their ascending hierarchies or their status in Hell. I’m tryin’ to take you somewhere— understanding.
My little boy wants to know why there’s pain. Do you know what they did to him? It woke me up. Now I’m a fish out of water, a foreign man in not my land. I’ve been shook up. I don’t hear my music. It’s not my culture I see around me. It’s not even my language. Do you know what that does to you? It takes you out of your little world. You have to confront reality more on its terms. You can spend more time in the environment of your consciousness, / because you’ve got a strange world out there that doesn’t speak to you momma’s titties.
You ever live a life for spiritual change? You wanna get enlightened? I wanna be my true self above, whom you are too, though we’re individually wrapped, but I’ve gotta be emptied before I can be filled, you know? That’s enlightenment. I put myself to the task. I’m not sayin’ it right. My soul puts me. You gotta get there. It’s the only way out— up Don’t you remember your last death? It’s what everybody talks about on the other side: “Goddamnit I missed it again!”
Look I’m not some spiritual shoes you must put on because I wear ‘em. Now I’m really tryin’ to get out of this— suffering. Now I have seen enlightenment’s tale, sat right in those shoes, not long enough to stay there, and I have seen Myself overhead, sat in that Sun and watched it ray out, and I’ve found the soul inside, made the inner journey to Spirit in innermost us. It just accentuates your suffering if you get these little tastes, ‘cause it’s so plain in your face you’re not there now. But you want suffering to end? Can you hear a threesome with your hands and feet? Any one of them will get yah there. Realize time as a vehicle to get there.
We are not animals you see, and this is not a world buttressed in the Void, astonished at its meaninglessness, wondering over its one-trip pony. There is so much more than Earth right here upon Earth. The teeming worlds sing to us in our sleep. We make contact with the dead. Even in life’s little room, we make measure with immensity. I’m givin’ you God, what we are becoming, what even matter becomes. It’s all there.
Once you see God you’re safe. Bullshit. Every devil in the neighborhood will come to fool you, alarmed for the end of their rule. Sometimes a world devil steps in and makes you pay for every man’s sin. Here’s the bull: if it’s all God who are these? Knowledge of God is terrible, but you forgive ‘im for it. You’re in a movie. Neo seein’ the Matrix, you get there. What a goof in moviemaking— take that Matrix and make that a real steak that traitor’s eating. / Take that Matrix there. Oh the bones of analogies, you can’t make them right.
Bhakti, do you hear it? I’ve got it for the whole damn thing, but if I stump my toe I’ll cuss you out. Well, I’ll least look mean at yah for a minute. Yeah I’m still in school. World knowledge does that. It makes you right with God, not some moral timekeeper, the whole damn show. Okay I’m signin’ off. Pleasure doin’ business with yah. I’ll see yah on the rebound, when another poem is born from the matrix of my be. Got that Sin Wood? I’m not countin’ sin. I’m fulfillin’ my obligation as a poet, and I’m sayin’ look at this in the bowels of language that’s there to say it right. Musical or not, I’m gifted speech.
Answer it with a question: what is bigger than the Whole? The unimaginable sink. You get lost there, frightenings on the tail ends of nothingness. It really makes you think. It’s too big for sky. It’ll shake you up. It’ll make you cry it’s so alone, so unimaginably deep. You want it like you want your very self, coils of room on which existence is but a fin to glide it sleekly through nothingness. Will it put out its eye of existence and just be its lone self nowhere be? A frightening thought.
Okay world, can I comfort you? Everything has to be in nothingness. In existence all is, from the most horrible to the most profound bliss, and our world is but a tier in that world stack, and we are That you see, that unimaginable thing on lone oceans.
Have I reached you yet? Good, let’s go. We have to reach forever in a day. I’m on bended knees, and I’m not embarrassed about it. You there, little animal, prideful nation, take down that war. It’s time for exultation in humanity. Do you feel yours? It’s always hands on, good poetry, right where your heart is, right where you feel. That’s the name of the game. That’s where we find each other. I love you did you know that? And it hurts, you know? It really does.
Die in some way take care of those who absolutely have to have us. Those are our children. I’ve got one now. He’s 12-years-old. His name is Nithish, and I will move Heaven and Earth, overcome the world, to put that little fella clean out of suffering and back where I sacrifice myself to take care of him, the intent of this poem. I’m worthy to be there. I’m his daddy. You see us upon the roads of time I love that little boy. You don’t know the arrangement.
Alright Aristotle, put the boy to sleep now. Alexander’s got a big day tomorrow. Put the poem to bed now. Alright Aristotle it’s dawn.
Looking my answer. I’ve made such a rainbow. No one sees its beauty/sense. [words spoken simultaneously] It’s just another lunatic in a long game. It’s just completely ignored, except for a handful of brave souls I would like to thank. 5,4,3,2,1, I’m countin’ your love here. You have risked your lives online and put a like by my material.
Let’s count the score. I’m flabbergasted. I don’t know what I mean. I’ve counted meaning in the stars, summed up the meaning of Earth, and physically grasped Supermind, and I’ve even housed meaning soul, yet I cannot grasp in my own hands I write. I cannot write my meaning in Earth. I cannot even tarry there. I don’t know how. I don’t know where I am where I meet you with the pen.
This is a mystery to me. I am a steady stream of starlight that doesn’t leave out one iota of where my thoughts are, my hands in the business of life, my heart as it sees the world, and I can’t even gauge you my time. I write things down I hear from on high, and that is not the half of it. I run this through the strands of my life. I sit and wonder the lines I write. I pick and choose and beg and plead to give you the date of poetry.
It’s all scrambled up sometimes in the gut-fields of life. I cannot touch life. In halls of infinity I just get close to it in storms of pen. It won’t read me there. It’s just about the lie we value poets today. Do you?
I can’t tell you how much I spend on this. It’s my life’s blood. I work around everything to write. I eat and I sleep carrying muse. I’m about the end of it, how I begin each day. I don’t think Shakespeare knew a better idiot than I feel grasping you. I’m sorry please. I will arrive there one day, where a poem’s just a piece of paper I’ve handled meaning on, and I don’t handle meaning in terms of readers. I’m gettin’ there. I can see it now.
What do we do with the orange crush? You’re gonna sneak up on my meaning as I write. You think it’s about lollipops. I’m just tryin’ to grasp myself today a writer of poems on Earth’s starward prow, in her meaning lists, and where I find the Sun. I gobble down the stars, lick up the scraps. Do you know muse? I am so entertained. It’s an amusement park, and to think this is for all mankind?
Wow, we watch TV with it, put it in our pipe and smoke it no. Did that just happen to me? I’ve heard a line of muse, saw a vision, and the sign said poetry. And we grasp Earth in our specialness and want to tell the world. It’s not ready for it yet, and you can’t get there yet, show your muse. Don’t throw it away. It’s got vision’s long hold on it. It will mature brightly. You’re not showin’ it to people. You’re just listening muse. It’s got a lot to show for it.
You’re gettin’ bigger kid, lookin’ at the world some a God vision growing. You think you’re a pilot of the world? Oh please we’ve all been there, considering ourselves. We can grow so much bigger in our thoughts. We can get bigger than ourselves. We can surely get there. Do you know how far this is? I don’t think you can touch it with ego. It’s on the other side of the universe. A change of consciousness gets you there, and that’s where we measure our days, not in muse.
A change of consciousness ahead, that’s where we measure muse. Is it happening to us? Is it real? Is it there yet? Do you see the lightning? Oh wow better poetry can I Lord please write? Where I am today: I don’t think anybody hears me. You silly fool, write measured pace.
Run it through the ringer of my life and be bold, casual and free. Newman, we’ve got that ticket. Caught a moment off Gods to the camera you’re the human being. Focus any of my material? Put it on that lawn, Lucille Balls. We’re negotiating shelter. What principles create him greater need? He’s blarin’ at yah sorry about the needful.
There’s time to look at it. I’m sorry I say so much that brings out your life. Are you crazy? You give the essential details; there is no need to give them. He needs to got put in the hold. You’re listenin’ to him. Open it up Americans, because Americans with a policy —okay let’s go under— with a policy to grow anything. The only way I talk to you is throwin’ you out. [line heard sung, voice of Dolly Parton] You wanna sit your own ass on the opposite side of going off the bridge. Yep, that outta do it, environmental change.
Call your father Christmas. I can’t call anybody. I’m not allowed to write. It’s because you never get read. They’re gonna come, the people who read newspapers. I just want to look at the must angle. We need these right now, these poems called freedom, how you pronounce it, how it’s acting.
And I have a lovely single for you today, another poem, good story, man's help. And for poem’s sake, the runner, Beavis and Beauty— I’m underpinnings; I’m the laugh of the party; I’m in there a broad measure of healing. Let’s leave it up to another empty poem to give us some ground rules.
Harm's End 