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.
It snows in springtime, off the board. It smells in springtime— says my dog. She loves it there— a smell ring. David son of Benjamin, he suffers there. Everybody thinks he’s a Jew. Medieval applications apply. He’s magnificent— a great people. Jesus son of Benjamin, see what I mean?
To see it’s a world of scary mystery me’s, [sing line] and that’s in the oven. You don’t have the price is right. This is grandiosa me. Thank you. Whadda I do? Everything on Earth’s fine, just you have some problems in it, unnaturally in your lane. It’s a bear, and you get richly left alone too much for the shadows, and they are monsters. Oh, okay, I’m left alone in the dark.
I’m feelin’ Planet Earth. Now you’re a smart cookie, a smart little girl. Earth is fine means you have to study yourself to understand its price. It’s a werewolf. It hates you and hates you and hates you, and I’m sorry, but this is disguised as love. Even your loved ones stand with you where everyone feels alone. You can’t get enough love.
The secret of the ages: you know every human being just wants to be loved. This is powerful. It eats you alive. What’s to do about it? I’m right in the middle of this, okay? But I have the most amazing charge: everything’s alive, and I feel the likes of everybody. I can’t get over you, how big you are to yourself as I am. I really hurt for you, and I feel you deeply. This casts me alone under the eyes of everybody, all these deities, so many devils, beings in every corner of the woods, nature spirit upon nature spirit upon nature spirit, and so many spirits you don’t understand, and so many things have eyes.
Can you get a load of my day? It’s so cozy in bed with my dog. Great feelins— I don’t have the world on my back, and I’m in my cocoon shimmerin’ with my dog. Nature approves. I gather strength there. Do you know I make my night a boat to curse on the world’s dreams 11:30? I’m gonna make it outta here to another field of consciousness that experiences the world differently 12 o’clock high.
I have a question. What’s that boat about? The world is your illusion right in front of you. The reality’s inside, but you live in the world like it’s free. You have no obligations or even thoughts in your head, no sense of I at all, but you fulfill everybody perfectly. You’re not a go-getter. It’s passive, warm, and kind. You’re just there, like a star in the sky, and you know this is dangerous on earth. People want to eat you, but you’ve arrived at the starting point to bring down God on earth.
Future plans we grab the Earth by its horns and divinize the living shit out of it and make it nice and green. We make it right. This is all in our heads, and we will bring down Supermind here. Aeons away? I have no idea, and I hamburger for enlightenment now, the spiritual change, but the closer I get, I just can’t get there. I see everything, but it still bites.
I’m a cashier at a register makin’ Walmart money, and do you know how normal that is? I’m a cashier for enlightenment now. Enlightenment squirrels. The public sees you as a target to handle their groceries and items, and they really sympathize with you doing that for the most part. You got a loan together, the public and you, to bring humanity home. You are so intimate with their stuff, and they trust you. I take every customer as my responsibility. I want to touch them there: the immediacy of the moment is fine with them. It’s what Walmart strives for but doesn’t know how to do. Thank you. I’m meat in their hands, but let’s get on with it.
I love humanity don’t you? I cannot profound things to the very cosa itself, what we’re doin’ here and why. I can tell you how wide it is, but I cannot big get there. We’re on a spaceship you know. Glidin’ through Earth are cosmic agencies, and there is bigger than that. Do you know the Alone fronts your face? Try that mystery. It’s apart from everything all things is. I alone with that sometimes. You can feel its breath upon your shoulders, but why are we here? Because it is we are. That’s all I can tell yah. We are its strings to pull existence along that it opens nothingness with. I get enough sustenance from that thought to satisfy my cravings for being.
And every one of us is like that: me I’m an alligator eating nothingness alive. That’s personal. Have I given you the spoon yet? Can you take existence by the hand and bake it to where it means somethin’? Can you eat off my words? To bring their items home, I have that job with customers. I match them with their price. Give me a minute. I’ll get better at this job, like you will improve my see. I can’t talk to you general public. You’ve blocked me out. A poet and his public, is there a ringer there? Is there even a price? All the old gatekeepers apply. They will not let you do it anywhere else, be a public poet. You have to be gateway approved. Even the reader readin’ this will not poet it in his box if it’s not found poetry on an official poetry channel. We’re squirrels that way. We’re herd sour, and I can’t get out of this pen. Fine, I’ll tell you again.
Everything has eyes. Can you live there? Can you feel humanity’s heat like it’s your own baked bread? Can you see your dog’s as person as you, minus the grasp with the hands the grasp in thought, and you love those creatures? I’m stoppin’ eatin’ meat. I just can’t take it, all those little lives snuffed out to arrive on my table after untold suffering. I feel the meat I eat, and it’s paradise here in America, a meat lover’s paradise. We just don’t know what hurts. I’m not a fanatic about it. I’ll just get that conscious diet, not freak out if I eat an animal a time or two, feelin’ its life. Can you get there, laid back about it all, not offended by anything? You’re just lookin’ at yourself studyin’ your every day to be a better me in it, to develop yourself to answer God’s prayers. That’s the price of livin’ if you want to know. That’s what we all take on. That’s what we all live to Earth is better this planet right now. You feel me dog?
Then change my name. Change your body. That’s not it. Good morning. Dirty-Purdy, you gonna pay it or what? It has eyes. It’s a snake in the grass, but it’ll kiss your feet. You can’t run it down. You can only be with it like you mean it. Hello Robin Hood. Attention Walmart shoppers, a lot of money behind the fence. Freshness just comin’ in, you gonna pay for it. Let’s slice out at the top all those profits. Can you give me some of that honey please— employee. You got your standard dome, makin’ money. You, what I can do to call you on it. I get on it great balls of fire, my own imitation of this land’s for you, “This Land Is Your Land”, and I’m talkin’ to the people you understand availability wrote.
Make you think the machine actually makes you an associate. Don’t read anything where you can set them straight. Poemless to get you money. Marriage attorney, I’m down the road a bit, the ultimate customer you’ll have to face no matter what, and we are really cozy in here under the counter, the public and the corporate string rackets. They’re doin’ just some stupid money launderin’. Even the public can tie better shoes. Corporate all the crap you lay on us, get some money that’s what happens today’s date. Tomorrow you will meet the world and don’t just take from it. “The Advice Capitalism”, one link leads to another.
I’ve got your pants down, but I’m not gonna spit on yah. We need better from you. Don’t say that you don’t understand and know that fully. Walmart you piece of cake in the cash register. I want a better job from you. To me, I can return a couple of those. That Sherry Dennis, you got a gripe about her, rude, mean, and on her pantyhose. I think we’ve got a stereotype. It’s that checkout lady on the counter. She’s found her roost and is a hen in a pecking order she rubs your nose in. What do you do about her? Corporate can’t understand it. It doesn’t make you wanna work there. They’re baskin’ in power, years at the register, and you’re dealing with social hierarchy in a hen peck, and that hen don’t have ears or a social conscience. So you don’t get away with nothin’ in your goodwill towards her. Why would that offend you if goodwill’s all you got? You see the test lamb. You have to always be on your toes to balance sacrifice with the right thing to do and let bygones be bygones and start each day anew. Whew, that was hard.
Listenin’ to freeways, I’m takin’ holes by the horns and sayin’ come on some, I want to fill you with awareness. I can’t believe it. We're just markin’ time here killin’ things. Look inside yourself and see you carry the world. I cried at a poster rat. Said he was 17 and missin’. He looked so on himself and purdy, so sweet and mean, so teenager in his prime. Did somebody get their hands around that throat and take the world from him? You dirty rat. The poster never lets you know. That’s all folks. I’d like to talk to you guys. And when you lay it out, in whispers, find our bottoms will yah? There, we’ve reached the sky safe and sound. You know who makes it out alive? The target.
I’d like to build a church. I’d like to build a bridge. Make for soldiers who just can’t take it anymore. Get it done in springtime. Get it done right now, wonderful fields of dream. You’re authorized don’t be a dick, carry everybody to the woodshed, and you don’t bang them there. You are nice, soft, and warm. You muse be. You are a string holding existence together. You are more jolly than that. You are yourself beyond time. Don’t bite into the dirt. You need to look good to the end of the line.
That’s the story. That’s our wellbeing on earth, ever a handmaid to little tigers, and we give all those animals love. Talk to me about it. I know the price of the gun. It’s ever on my mind the harm I’ve done. That’s a nice cat. Thank you, I bought it myself. The Earth has it in its storybook. It’s held meaning Earth. I’m championing children you know. What would we do if we were good and kind to them, soft and warm? Revolutionize society and be big sisters to everyone. Well, what are you waitin’ for?
God dog you could be nice Donald Trump. Everybody, Trump's bad, not a kind character. I just sign up for what I see. The paint of the Mother race God. I ask Luna. Of course, a story to be me all the way to couch potato. That’s the kind dog, lovin’ everybody. Beautiful she wrote.
Yeah I know: am I too excited? (the sound of my phone telling me a message has arrived) A poem I wrote, I’m dealin’ a lot of shit. I’m dealing with a lot of good looking manners. There’s a large turnover. Whoever read this book, good afternoon.
The doorway it’s small, that doorway to land on Earth. Gonna get the team leader God watching, and we will bank a new Earth. Right dog? Nothing from Islamic State. All over their hardware, oh me, my outlawed poem-video “Rainbow as a Radical with Islamic State”. It got me in the hospital every week making it, stomach attack city. Now die Venezuela. Invite you to dinner and eat you, America is that you? Fine, put ‘em in the basket. Next Greenland. Go and help them get out of danger you fine Nazi hunters. Freshness company, can we stand up and be counted? Are you excited to get Trump out? Walmart goes through the store in trepidation glee on the shores of eternity.
Sharin’ and US History, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. When were gone astray, oh tidings of comfort and joy. [sing this and above line, the Christmas carol] You could only go so far. An evil lits the bar. [sing this and above line] Watch on the pitch. A crooked umpire is prepared on you, support dragons. Tackle every notion of self-righteousness. You must do this watchin’ yourself. In this imperium no hands unnoticed. You sing her the Gemini has given her an eye. And we hear from the divine about me. After canned goods I got you pretty good. What is it if you can’t see? You would not be uncomfortable with unkindness.
Springtime is a soul’s regard. You just like a historic book? I’m writin’ history on the parallel lines, what we gotta give up for good to conquer, the whole landmass of selfish, of hey everybody I’m mean, of I’m satisfied with my lower type, of let’s put Earth first in a bottle and hide it from time. Can you grasp a greater day?
Unhand that king. He’s not about to rule the world. He can’t rule himself straight. Let the lunch he’s ordered eat him alive, all that rope he hung himself with, if he insists on bein’ mean. You hear me Trump? Havin’ a good time support dictator. View history’s log. We thought we were free— German patriotic people in Hitler’s time. Do you know what’s goin’ on? You are fooled by your own vulgarity in how you treat people and axe them inside. Trump does just what you do on a grand scale. So did Hitler. You just got more constraints. Make Jews and a police to punish them with, that’s immigrants with a darker skin and ICE.
Do I need to put the list on board? You’re not gonna see it anyway. Undocument yourself from meanness, pettiness vice. Can you know the meaning of love? I think we all pay that price. Don’t you feel it? And the list goes on, all that I see in springtime. All comes out in springtime the soul carries forth. It’s not a rotten tomata. I’m sittin’ there now. Great Scott! I’m embarrassing to say I love you, you purdy balance of soul.
Will you come along with me? We have a nation to save. Aren’t you gonna help? We need your input right now in your candy maker, givin’ love to everybody where your thoughts ride Earth. Impossible it seems if at first they’ve hurt you, but that’s the standard of the universe, love. You just haven’t found it yet the crabapple is so strong. Am I right city? Of course you love. I’m goin’ that way right off the roof. In every answer could you see that it’s a blast off into the sky every direction love.
You do an application first of the love down home in your garden, what you feel for your kids, cats and puppy dogs. You’d stop laughin’ then at the way I hold my mouth sayin’ all you need is love, love everybody right now, some 60s sentiment. When you hold your children you hold the world, and can you come on earth and see that? Can you hold down Earth and see that?
The subtle ends of the world put us all together like we are one person, and we certainly are. He don’t brush his teeth. He sure does, inside your every move. What are you lookin’ at, the mess we’ve made? I’ll definitely stay here, all our mornings in springtime, to see the soul in action and hear it write a poem, and all that one soul we are, divided up into springtimes, and there I’ve spoken mine.
That’s walkway center. The appetite is love. Get a load of a great day. I’ll just have to break it down into a different register than yours that keeps the same coins. Oh field toss, what have you, I have a way with the strings to cast you my day, things I’ve touched you to understand poetry. It’s hands down a better world. Sure can baby, we can love one another. That will touch the sky. Just open it up. Be alarm— all you have to do is want it. While you’re doing that, marry it with Heaven. Then he knows where God on earth that angel sings.
The Prime Minister, Shri Narendra Modi at the great Banyan Tree in Auroville on February 25, 2018. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and the Prime Minister’s Office (GODL-India)
From the paths of the Alone, if it’s any consolation, I alone this to you, the next lesson cheerio. The heart of Auroville is the banyan tree establish the Earth oneness drive everything. The Infinite of days, things are stepped back, exploded on the scene: I hate this bible; I have a schoolbook to cram down your throat, the rules and regulations; I just wanna have fun. The voices chorus. Just leave my damn trees alone and my vegetables— I’m sustainable Auroville. I’ve got some rocket science get yah, a whole lot of Sri Aurobindo— the Mother’s disciples’ Auroville.
It’s a land grab right in the heart of the city, and then the government comes in and makes you disciples of her all the way to India that’s the tower we find. It makes you want to pull up stakes, the whole registry. A failed experiment has come apart on itself. You can’t get there from here. You can’t even try. You just sit and wait for another dawn.
Where do we go wrong? The goodwill to continue. It doesn’t hurt anybody. It doesn’t seek them shame. It’s taller than a government and is not about right of way. It has no agenda to sell you at the expense of itself. It’s charitable to everybody, even the weak. It has no bad man. Goodwill lifts him out of that. It’s good to everybody.
The fundamentals of goodwill started this place, and all this was hijacked early on and has led to today, a fractured Auroville. Policy glows in goodwill, is meant for the right change, and it glows on our vegetables. People’s particulars glow in goodwill to come right themselves. This is not known among you? If you see the fruit you see the tree. Goodwill governs all, and that’s where we land Auroville to come back to itself. Are you going to fight this? Are you going to make it mean?
The heart collapsed, the heart of Auroville. It puts lunch in children’s boxes and go all over India. Get to every place on earth, the Auroville plane. This trap is completely in our noosphere, such is the spirit of this endeavor, the daunting human-wide of Auroville.
You’ve blocked me with anger and ill will from the anger and ill will in the very pocketbook of Auroville, the poet of your gifted change, the poet sent here to warn you. Just come and govern everything with ill will, is this just your blindness or your willful stance? Time of death, is that the lesson of Auroville?
This is the form of the divine. I report that they are only satellites. It's all fences regarding the sun. We can’t get at that meat in the matter. It’s too broad-minded you, and you will not meet us there. I cough this up now a poem rose in certain straits, but I’m not in a tin can. The availability of truth is relative to the participant, but I tell you sincerity guides my house. It’s what I lean on. I can get closer to the truth, but will you meet me there? Will you even try?
Oh my goodness Auroville, that’s the study sheet, that’s what we make our daily rounds: ever widening to the truth, ever widening to contain it all, to stand at last on higher ground, to get there, the reason Auroville was made. We localize human divinity here, and that is ever the strength now.
I attempted to send this poem via email to recipients in Auroville, but my email ID was blocked. I’d sent the previous poem on this blog, “The New Business”, to all the addresses that blocked this one. This poem and the previous one made the secretary of Auroville, Jayanti Ravi, mad, and she got me kicked out of India over it, personally.
I couldn’t come from the city according to our needs. A oneness organization, that’s the start of it, the city the Earth needs. The walls are coming down, it’s where we begin. This is the largest city in Heaven, and it’s expensive to live in.
How many people protect themselves from the Infinite? How many people have bibles they won’t cross thresholds with? They can’t get out of the Book or this Name says. They can’t plant infinity there, and they argue and bicker among themselves about it, the rulebook says.
Am I just a hedonistic paradise? I sacrifice even my thoughts to the divine and live a simple life to prove it. I don’t cut down banyan trees. I sit together with everybody there, and I know hard work, and I know rest and play.
I love God, and that is my first priority, not the God of this man says, the God of the banyan tree. I have seen God’s eyes staring back at me in everyone’s. I can pet a dog and feel that, rub a cat.
I am about the mountain in springtime. I know how to address the world: oh my God I love you. I have seen fire and rain, and I changed my life because of it. I no longer hurt people or cause them pain. I draw the lines everywhere to prevent that. I know the meaning of sacrifice. It’s how my thoughts meet the world. It’s how my hands meet the day.
I am an Aurovillian comes theoretically, and I shout this to the Earth. I will get bigger than my kind. I will transform consciousness inside into our greater type. I will give birth to divinity on a collective field, and our hands will salt the Earth with its great and needed change, and I am here my friend opening doors for you that you may walk through them. Auroville will you hear me? Auroville can you feel that looking?
This poem was emailed to many Auroville email addresses, most all the principle leadership bodies, and it was the object of an art action on Sept 3rd and 4th, where I and Mithun taped and tacked it up on bulletin boards and walls around Auroville and on banyan trees in the township, or it was just handed to individuals. This is the performance art a recent poem, “The Diamond”, mentioned, before, I might add, there was inkling on my part to do any.
This poem and the preceding one made the secretary of Auroville, Jayanti Ravi, mad, and she got me kicked out of India over it, personally.
Special thanks for this moment— Bruno. At his side, he getting a life-saving blood transfusion, I wrote the poem
The most gates at society, hey! Propped on the sand in an eurythmic sweet sense, I look at humanity in raw oysters. There’s nothing there that makes us rise above our bull. We get decimated sometimes, and the humility lasts an hour. I don’t understand all this mess. It’s popcorn and candy to our sense of self tryin’ to prove our worth to one another. Look how big I am, and we can say that so subtly. I mean look at me will yah?
Can we spend this? It’s expensive not to see. I count this in humanity in everywhere I wait, in all the plays of the crowd. I want to get bigger than myself. Little everybody treats me, and I’m offended in my self-wears, and little I am. I can’t seem to see this when I’m in a fight. I don’t know how to handle it when I’m spellbound. Can I list my achievements please? Can I show you my worth, again?
Do I have to eat lunch with myself again? You’re not listening to me. If I was two I’d pitch a fit. That’s where I learn to get you to pay attention to me. I get expert at it by the time I’m twelve, and then all hell breaks loose, and I’m just shit-canned again, too old to get my way. Is that when the braggin’ starts? I have got to show you I’m worth, but I’ve lost all the old ploys, and I’m doin’ it again, wantin’ you to validate my self-worth the modicum of humanity.
Is that all turned on to kick-start our humanity, the pedestal I preach to you? Wow, I can sound so good in words. Do I hide behind my writing I knock down every word I say in some pinch or another that my hypocrisy wears? The hypocrisy of others stuns me. I’ve never seen anything like it anywhere on the planet. There is no accountability for it.
Wow do I read sweet words. Can you solve the problem with love without love? You just get likes for it. Nowhere does it bring social change. The social understanding that you’re the victim too, my God that’s the pants we wear. Get people arrested will yah? That’s all you’ve done. You’ve crime and punishmented the thing. Everybody gets mad at people. It’s how you social change, with a baseball bat, but we can’t hypocrisy our way out of this. Love has to be love or it’s not love. Understanding holds you sweet. It doesn’t embarrass you in front of the crowd.
Where do we go with our social understanding to see the lies arise in everybody where we find our brotherly love? Can you understand that? I can’t cover this. I can’t even say it. You just write beautiful words. You don’t mean them, and there’s no way to show you you don’t. You’ve got that covered. You can’t see them in the arms they wear. You can make yourself sound pretty good, but unconscious springs get yah when the spell of your unconscious arise and offers your behavior to meanness.
There is not a day I don’t encounter this in somebody. You’ve encountered a rat in everything society says about me. The principles of love and pray don’t apply here, and you have permission to shoot me in your thought, and that’s a release mechanism like all society wears. If I even say the name you’ll hate me, and there is no way out of this.
I could have done a better poem and kept my social status out of this, but we can’t spend your hypocrisy on nothin’. You’re just bruise your shield in that unspeakable name. Now where you at? I don’t think it’s in loving shares. Oh you do your family alright, a satellite I, but to love humanity you must wear everything in humanity you hate, identifying with that behavior. It don’t come out any other way, the principle in your subconscious communicating that spell “oh I’ve encountered someone I don’t like,” and in the roles of identity you have to know you’re there: I am humanity. This gets larger than everybody, but you can’t find it without accepting everybody.
The roles are mean, even in children, and I need to see this in myself, and I bridge it that way to its appropriate goodness. You hear this now. I’m taking myself and getting myself out of the way, not for any humanity worth, not so you can see me. I just want to be myself, okay, the actual me, the thing I am behind the play, not yet angel wings, but the natural me that’s not stuck to anything that can afford to be nice because nice is what it does our human soul, and nary a subconscious spell can touch it, no matter where you meet life.
The basement’s all cleaned out, and this comes down from on high, if you want to know the truth of it. You can’t just declare your love. You have to raise it up out of you in the skeletons you wear. Can you get my pen rose? Can you hear it please? You have to get down and dirty and clean, at least in the eyes you wear. Whatever you do, see it.
I’m gettin’ down to the natural colors of my room. Do you hear that? Look at yourself some mirror. Roles involved with sweetness, and you’re being bigger than the heys of the crowd. Just don’t recognize that’s where you want mental health to go. Good for her, good for him, take advice.
Real life forum for the discussion of school peace, a brick, that brick has something to do with you. We don’t wanna do it, continue, and we face certain destruction. Death is ever on our knee, and the world fail is in the picture now. A sudden storm could kill us. We are never safe, and we just explode all the time, come to hope and then crash, come to bay and then sink.
If you are left out of this loop, eventually your cross will come. We are not safe from crisis, and we are manipulated to star’s end over the avoidance of such. Some have good fingers, some no. Just look out for what’s right. You have it all the time, in some speaker in your room.
The avoidance of death is not possible, but we can make peace with our time that comes. We can ground ourselves in reality, and we can even see what’s ahead, and if there’s disaster ahead, well this is the crux of the matter ain’t it? We don’t want the suffering to kill us. We have to find a solution, or chaos reigns.
And what of prolonged disaster? I have been rejected by society like men on death row, and there is no way to climb out of this hole. It’s pleasant enough. I live in a bright home, and no one will see me there. I’m not value to anyone except whom I can count on one hand. This is deliberate and mean. It’s not the normal social isolation. So shoot me for it and let’s move on.
I’ve measured humanity in my bare hands. I have been to the top and the bottom of this old world. I commune with spirits and the impossible. I have seen things you don’t want to see, and I’m not talkin’ murder and mayhem. I’m talking about the fresh expression of the universe ploughin’ us down to make its see, how the Gods sit in their homes and use us as dice in their gambles on the world, and we get crushed, and how God watches too big to help. We are at a certain level of universe that pay the price. We sit on Heaven’s back the sustenance it needs to survive.
I have found a way out of this. I have found the truth of who we are, and it’s a slow movement’s crawl to the goal, when this is time on earth. I’m not filling you with hope I’m filling you with seeing. We are bigger than all that. We are outfielders from another universe that encompasses this one. We abide there now on our tops.
I’m speaking from there in the knowledge I give. It’s clear and certain knowledge, and it will open up the whole world to you one step at a time. It will mitigate disaster, break in on it and help you rise above it. It will sit with you at night and hold your hand. We are a dream weaver’s store lost in our dream, and it’s a collective dream that we share together, and we will wake up together when the time comes. That’s the certainty of dream.
Now can I honest myself here? I’m a pauper when it comes to Earth’s stuff, but I’m rich in meaning’s worth. I’m a brink in the wall that is us, but you can take me out and see time, remove me and see beyond the universe. I crumble in my own hands, and even in my tears, if I cannot feel the joy on my tops, I know it’s there.
I have given formulas for world change, and they go by unnoticed. I have laid practicality at philosophy’s door, given psychology wings, and taken the big questions and answered them right in front of your nose, and the mind meets understanding, and I’m just this existence worth that has no place among you. You think so?
I’m gonna dictate mission impossible. With all due respects, can we land society here, I’m conducting a sense of sacrifice where I meet the world? I’m writing this with a déjà vu. Even if you have not had your lives torn asunder, do not find yourself in hell on earth, or smell that awful stench near, can you make ends meet, support yourself and your family and not have to struggle all the time?
I’m talking to the great majority of mankind. Oh my God, poor people gonna rise up, get their share. [sing this and above line, tune “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution”] Can I sing to you another song? It’s the only way to be human on this planet, whatever your religion or creed or nationality. We temper our hearts with a sense of sacrifice. I’m talkin’ to the captains of business and all who make a profit sting.
You can tax the rich all day, and you haven’t met them in their homes, where they need to see their lives are propped up on so much suffering. Cynical people don’t need me I know, and people that run over other people to make them pay are not interested in changin’, but do we have to back them up in society and pretend it’s not happening, the great rape of mankind?
Yep there is. It’s everywhere apparent, and politicians take off our shoes and show us other stuff. Can any responsible journalist hear me, concerned teacher in school, professor? Preacher from your pulpit look at this, temple master. Can we talk about sacrifice in business as a way to heal humanity, / discuss this every day where politicians get our vote, where the rich see TV and governments listen?
Why is world fail? No matter who you blame it on it always comes down to this: somebody’s getting rich at the expense of others, at the expense of the environment, at the expense of us. It’s not a hole in one each time, and there are other factors, but tell me this one has no bearing on today’s world. Tell me it’s a trivial matter. Why aren’t we talking about it where we rise up and make social change?
I’ve put this in your hands right alongside the transcendent, how we get by in this place. I’ve put it right alongside social justice, without mentioning punishment or the price of beer, I mean sex roles and how you spend them. I’m givin’ yah things to talk about in a voice that matters. I’m showin’ you what’s up. Thank God I’m lost on social media. Just think if word got out. Mainstream do you hear me? I’m lettin’ the cows out. I’m lettin’ the rich hear me. I’m taking social justice by the wings.
What is the formula for world change? C-o-m-e t-o t-h-e t-y-p-e r-o-o-m. Your typewriter to write it. Eternity is a crossing reference for the that’s how the book of love. [sing line from the word that’s] So much more beyond our horizons. I’ve been up there you know, on our tops, and I’ve failed you. I just kept goin’ in an old movie and racked up my isolation today, again and again. Bless you I’m sorry.
Sacrifice is the only way to meet these things: you have to have it, and it hurts other people. Nothin’ you could do but give that up: boy I hurt you. This lasts a long time, where you find others lookin’ at yah funny and suspicious of your every move. You will not be rewarded for sacrifice.
Get that through your thick head if you’re making a profit on people’s pain. Turn philanthropist I’m sorry, and you’re givin’ till it hurts because you love them so, well that’s tough idn’t it, no one believes you. You’re still around money.
But you’ve come a long ways, and you’re not doin’ this for the praise of the crowd. That’s hypocrisy. You sacrifice your Wall Street for love. I can’t tell you how to do that, fall in love with everybody, and with some people it will never work, but you at least learn to identify with them. It does start with empathy, and then it goes through spiritual change. You see the oneness danglin’ everywhere, and you want to make it right with all there is. I guess that’s the stoppin’ point for this poem: let’s begin that shall we?
photo by the author taken in a secret five minute meeting with Nithish nine months ago
I’m fighting stars. I have no idea I can’t do anything unless my muse reads it to me. You are the couch existence sits on to write. Still hasn’t found you able to write anything. Here, do this circle.
No matter what I say, no matter what I dream, I can’t get rid of those institutes that go against the grain of society in compelling posts. I have been left without my boy and wondering if he’s better off without me. I am bereft of hope, and this is bigger than my boy. Is the whole thing a tin can?
Is existence squeezed out of existence by the Diamond Bearer? Is this all a charade, and even God himself can’t stop cryin’? Is there a safe harbor anywhere, a safe place? I’m talkin’ existence big.
Thank you I’m smart and can see the ruse in everything, even my own ruse. I can’t change my consciousness to save my life, and I know what change means. Are the roads to Supermind blocked by Supermind? Is enlightenment just a scare? What gives?
Do you know how fucked up everything is? Do you know how big it is, the screw in everything? We can’t climb Mount Everest with that. We are foiled by cliff hangers, and we can never reach the top, and in the history of poetry I have to explain to you symbolism. Nothing gets out of my bag.
Do you know how tall that is? I’m meaning’s worth, and I keep reaching holes in my story. I don’t understand all that is, but I know Gods play with us, and there really are monsters under the bed. Can you see my daily life?
Bigger than being it arrives from distant shores, the very breath of being, and it gets there all the time, in our underwear. I cannot move this molestation. Are we fucked from the very first? There’s a hole in the program. Whatever it is that uses us for existence is unhinged? That’s how the story grows?
What guarantee do we have that it is safe? Are we existence’s pall bearers? Alright arouse my pen are we safe from the universe? I question everything. In the horror of day to day living, living where peace finds us and goodwill, you can’t condemn it all to understand. You can’t even breathe.
Do you know we eat bread together on the inside, and I am you and you are me? That’s the joke ain’t it, we spit on that. I’m goin’ somewhere, even if I don’t believe it sometimes. I’m tryin’.
There I am on cars, and I carry the world around all day a poet’s worth. I have these great big thoughts that ground. I mean I’m a scout for the human race really involved with you. I question my own worth, but that’s not throwin’ myself away. I work in the engine room of humanity, and I don’t even think you know there’s there, for what it’s worth.
We haven’t found ourselves yet larger than our own personal skulls, dangnabbit. I’m a shopping spree of the limits of ideas. I can do it, get out there where no thoughts are, and I can hold existence in my hand. Is that a safety rope? I’m gettin’ underneath things not because I have to because I love you, and we can figure you my little boy.
I witness the safety ground, and I’m lookin’ for it in the large eyes he wears, and I could just tear my heart out, you know?
I have the living room in my hand, and I got a shot at Earth lead me to him. That’s the death of a unicorn has almost swallowed him whole, and he don’t know how to feel right, my little boy.
I’m comin’ upon him now. I’m placing a wall. I thought for a brief time there’s no doubt about it this is what he wants to flower with me.
You can’t lose your job. James, I’m tellin’ yah the truth. You will have his little hands in yours again, right there on bright Earth, where the Earth makes sense. You’re fillin’ a role in the sky.
I didn’t allow there’s monumental change ahead. What happened? It’s alright— monumental impact. Well here’s the movie here’s the camera, and I’ve got ‘im, I’ve got ‘im in my pocket. [sing this and above line] Can this be like all played out?
Wide God, did he actually go to touch that? No, he resurrected Tommy another poet live on earth; another poet rides the Earth.
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 remember now. I built a mile high stadium. Stupid show, look what Hookah did in the center of your program. We’ll always have that voice.
I would murder in words anything I tried to say. We have our long lists of hurt that’s been put out there. It’s how we tax the world. It’s how we feel better about ourselves. Would an actor see that?
And if I reduce it to a role, do I bleed responsibility? Do I reduce it to an abstraction in the places I’ve bleeded reality, the places I’ve burn?
I’ve grabbed the sun, live on a height of thought and life I write about all the time. I see the representation, the symbol we all are. It eves my day. What then?
How is it possible to hurt someone and not know their pain because you’re a writer of sky dreams? I communicate with the dead, have them all around me, each little life I’ve lit on fire in the bucket of intimacy.
I don’t think the possibilities of healing surround your room. You are not stark walking the symbol. You know the outer lair. An inside all day long, you don’t approach that.
You don’t know what it’s like to love the world in those places you’re sorry, breathing those words all day long to a you know you’re heard way beyond man. I don’t think you’re aware of the price you pay when you become aware of man. The pain you feel humanity.
But on the cutting edge of this is who I make it up to, a little boy growing in time. He represents you. He represents the world’s eyes, and I am there for him.
We can take joy on the Earth, sweet, innocent and kind, holdin’ our humanity close. It’s not all a razor blade. We can get sweet on the Earth, and when you get home, you can love the world like a little boy, and your representation grows.
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
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.
Harm's End 