The world is at the skid point.
We are so caught in this movie we can’t even see beyond.
Tell me you don’t care.
Tell me you’re hangin’ out clothes to dry,
and your little one’s screamin’,
and that’s just big stuff on TV.
Got caught in the movies.
I know you ache at night,
just about to spill it all,
everything you know about the world but don’t.
You don’t know what to make of it
it holds you so close.
Can we climb out of this?
We can sure get lost in it.
Will you play with me?
I’m a poet from Skid Row.
No I’m not a drinker.
I’m a free world thinker,
and I want the world to last
longer than its appointment
in the annuals of our sun.
I’m with you on that.
I want to outlast the sun
where I know I can be happy.
Have you ever seen the world up close?
It’ll finger your dickens.
No, no I’m not talkin’ about the rovin’ mania all around yah—
the whole teeming world
as an entity in front of your face.
Got boxes
and spring cards,
but it’s the real McCoy.
I don’t know if you know what I’m talkin’ about yet.
I scrap it off my shoe
no.
This is a divine appointment in time,
the world as an organization
that brings God on earth,
and we can’t get over the word divine.
I’ve lifted up your skirt
and showed you religious offerings.
I mean an intelligence bigger than the skies
that can fit in our green Earth
and bring it to the next level.
You think of the universe as a flat individual organization,
but the many levels of the universe go beyond the universe,
and I tell yah Earth is scheduled for that.
I’m far from the clothesline now,
but that screamin’ kid,
I’ve gotten into his ache.
We want a better world,
expressive of need,
and the world as an organization can do that,
be unto our need.
It’s flat and big
everywhere we look today,
but have you met the world yet?
That’s what I’m tryin’ to say
so that it matters,
so that we can get bigger than ourselves,
knowin’ the world’s done
with livin’ for your kin.
Bigger than any national flag,
the world is our step-brother
that needs to know its name
spoken on your lips.
Oh no Mohammad you don’t own the world,
nor Jesus Christ,
and certainly not Hindu
or Buddha,
and the Jewish people will not rule the Earth.
We’re all gonna get goin’
to see the world in each of us,
to understand its nature
bigger than the machine.
Are you with me on this?
I think you’ll fight me some,
until we realize Earth’s got an appointment
in blue skies,
and we will all revel in it,
giddy with the realization of harm’s end.
Do you know that cost?
Can you turn around and see the world today?
Flabbergasted can you see it?
A step-mother,
seven kids,
and digital shock,
can you grab that?
Help me chase it
to we meet the world there.
I’m not horseplay.
I’m the world looks in on you,
not the teeming multitudes,
the world as a being in front of you in time,
and I’m travelin’
a poet to forgotten shores,
what a seer give society,
its determining wings,
how it lays out itself
and what it be's.
It’s the arms of society to tell you the truth.
You must not let that little you.
It’s the One looking in on itself.
You’re the One.
I am really here for you.
Now sing along.
You can’t fool me anymore
by your nonchalance.
I know the score.
You can’t shoot me anymore
either.
I know what I’m about,
and even dead I’ll know it,
and so will my poetry.
Open up in there.
There can be no losers.
Bite into something hard.
Stare into something new.
I gave you the congressional service.
No shame in that.
A wardrobe
you know you can catalogue
here take this self:
we’re goin’ to the
end of society
as the machine.
Sheltered animals move and breathe.
They just don’t get away.
What was defeated in Mexico?
Waiting by the bomb.
You’re encountering
that work’s envitalment,
and you can’t get out of it.
Best documentary
That Worked.
What are you doin’?
Getting our own hands dirty in blowing up the machine,
a long action
that we can do without war
or blowin’ people up
or shooting them down.
Here I am doin’ it don’t you see?
Never mind the behavior
they stopped us from realizing it.
What was that membership?
Blowin’ up the world
in I don’t care,
oh no.
I’ll give you as much as possible
to farm time
freedom from the machine.
Love,
it actually
gave us tomorrow,
is the active ingredient.
I find that news with anything.
It’s real
and normal
if you realize you have met the world
out during the day
in every box you’ve met today,
in every pair of eyes staring out at you,
all of it,
the whole damn show.
Tag: nonduality
The Center of Closeness

All since childhood
I went busy with it,
the message I’m supposed to give of another.
It makes for short poetry.
Where are my feelings for me?
It’s been the subject of my lifetime.
Self-centered rides there,
but so does a vantage point to study life,
the name of existence on my lips.
I can only see me
as the protagonist of this drama,
only imagining what it’s like to be another.
That’s not self-centered fact.
I live here:
watching the world go by the center of myself.
You do too,
and I’ve found this out myself:
our integers are the same.
What makes a person a person
fills both our bottles
and crashes them at the same time.
The social hierarchy will not let me poet to you
the discovery we are the One.
I cannot wear a poet label
because I have not yet been given it by the crowd,
and I bleed to tell you things.
I’ve been all over this place,
climbed the mountaintop,
sojourned in hell.
I have been on broad rivers of mankind,
and I have suffocated in stinking swamps.
I have entered duality
to wear them both till kingdom come,
and then I get saved by the bell.
Reach inside me and see
I’m writing the papers of existence,
and I help existence be.
I’m fighting for my room.
You cannot harbor the truth,
the truth of anything
in its bare-bones reality.
They will get you for it,
the powers that be.
Reality is being fed to us on a silver platter
with cyanide,
and we all believe the lies.
I’m easy to take down.
I’m the most hated scapegoat of the day,
but that opens up truth in a man,
having to face himself to society’s mirror,
and you are sincere to the test.
It can open up worlds of seeing.
It can make you love humanity
when your self-love has joined the same.
We stand on great big tests today
that eat our lunch.
Never a lie’s been told,
the dinjins will tell you
and mothers and fathers all over this land
and governments and snake pit operators.
Oh my little child you are safe
in how we rule things.
You must dog eat dog
and get out there and compete
for bread.
It’s greatness of your kind.
The devil dance on a great mankind,
and we will go to war to prove it.
Now let me tell you somethin’.
It’s all subterfuge.
We are avoidin’ what makes Tommy safe,
Wendy grand.
We have to flower in our room to humanity my dear,
find the Self in everyone,
and let that be our guiding light
to discovering God
lookin’ at the world through our eyes
in the fullness of his vision
here on earth.
I just told you the truth,
what’s happenin’
in the evolution of time on earth,
in the world play
we’re all a part of.
That’s the secret that all existence hides.
Can’t you see it yet?
A Companion Poem
Can I fly my hypotenuse
a jersey on existence,
I mean cans?
This whole world is a big block.
Everything’s in small measure.
There’s no room for elbows.
I can’t get yah to change your mind
there’s a bigger party than this.
Your little room is your little room
folding existence upon itself.
I wear those sleeves too,
but I get out and abroad, you know?
We are lifetime wears.
It’s a stinking ship.
Just ask your neighbor you hate,
or all the money you make
at the expense of other people,
the information you give
that ain’t true,
the self-righteousness that drives your car,
and all your thoughts bent on death
for those who’ve crossed you.
Am I leavin’ your telephone number out?
I don’t think so.
I can name names.
Even the good on Earth
do it in.
Would you love that bad person to death?
Would you get out of your family role
and bring a stranger to dinner
to sup with your kids risk and all?
These are the roles of the One in flavorful chairs,
and I’m usin’ analogy to get at device.
How can I tell you you sail too
the shape we’re all in?
Do you see our pumpkin?
It’s a safe haven for everyone.
We are littleness meets the stars
confined to one room.
It’s a prison house of escape.
We can go so many places,
with narrow openings,
and it’s a secret from the crowd.
I can’t prove to you I’ve been there,
but you hear that sound now.
I’m tryin’ to get bigger Earth,
so we can mean somethin’ with our lives
and not take a stranger to death.
I grapple with existence like it’s my magnet,
all this poem to pull you along.
We’re going to get there you see.
It’s only a matter of time.
It’s larger than wood,
than our feelings’ meanings in time.
Our thoughts can’t get there
except on some spaceship
that’s blasted off from Earth
bigger than any thought you’ve ever had.
We’ve got to bust out of our shell
in the pains of life
oneness denizen models.
You know I’m countin’ score.
Now let’s get on with it.
Can I give you a blog as a purpose of a universe?
You’re not going to believe it’s in time,
the whole meaning unfold
that meets us right where we’re at.
Harm’s End I’ll say it again
and a collaboration with the unknown,
and some Twitter eye in focus.
I’ve did it.
I’ve grasped the universe
right in your pocket.
Start with this poem and go from there.
You will arrive at the universe
I guarantee it.
No one has done this before
with their hand on the button of life.
I’ve surrendered you to abstractions.
Do add-ons care?
May we hit the role in the machine,
get to very deary wood.
I’m a pencil outside of myself.
I’m not the me generation.
Can you generate outside of yourself?
Can you get there?
I am the center of everything,
and as much as we see this we don’t.
We judge by selfishness
a bottle unto ourselves.
Can you put yourself in the murderer’s shoes?
Can you be someone liberal if you’re conservative?
Can you be that priest that molests kids
if you’re survivors of incest?
Alright can you just be your wife
if you’re too tired to deal with the kid crying at night?
Can you be your neighbor,
and they need you to take their kids to school,
but you’re late for work?
Can you be the guy at the grocery store
that’s asking you for small change
or at least I see you smile?
Can you be your coworker
late again,
but you don’t tell anybody?
Can you even be your kid,
and he’s been caught with his pants down
not to your sudden fury?
Too tired to go to work,
we can’t identify with people.
We can’t look outside of ourselves.
It’s all the rage
be offended.
You know what I mean dear heart?
You know what I mean expanded notion?
If I haven’t hit home
examine yourself.
You’ll get better.
Now where do we play school?
Getting bigger than ourselves
in life’s little room.
Watch those reactions.
Give some pride to other people.
Is that too tall for you?
It’s what we’re here for
in the basics of bein’ human.
Oh my God this mind stinks,
and we shoot it down with bright ideas.
Did we reach anybody?
Only the choir.
Oh my great big beautiful humanity we’ve got it all wrong.
We heart with each other.
We expose ourselves
to vulnerabilities of feeling.
This is the prize in the room:
that heart’s safe to be with, you know?
It’s what they remember you with, you know?
You can land a hypotenuse
all over the freeway
to capture the sun’s rays
geniusin’ your way to a household name,
but those around you know your love,
how your heart is around people.
We educate the mind,
put it first in school,
put it only in school
as what matters more than anything else,
and we are heart matters with each other.
The rule and scale of mind
is not our hypotenuse.
It’s not where we get along with each other.
The heart owns the whole show.
It lifts us up with each other.
Can a poet say this?
It’s where we abide in time.
It’s my wake up to you.
It’s where we meet in verse,
and you hear me.
It’s our meaning with each other.
God rest his soul.
I’ve done all I can to reach the heart of poetry.
I smell the four winds,
and I do hope that danger’s not real.
Know how it feels
to have said too much
from the party line
where the authorities don’t let you,
not even in poetry.
So long today.
I hope that’s not all she wrote.
A case that does not take square time
became an artist.
She finally took the picture
that brought it all to bear.
Can you identify with the wife?
Pain and Suffering
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.
Death’s Star
You want to recognize you’re there dead.
You can’t take a worldview.
You’re not operating in that anymore.
You’ve just died.
This is serious business.
It’s a wake-up call
on the other side.
The enormity of the shock
takes your breath away.
You’re just stunned,
not knowing what to do.
Where is Jesus?
Where’s the stars?
No religion has showed up yet.
You’re on your own,
transitioning.
It hurts.
It’s just simply awful.
You can’t stand it.
You don’t want to be there.
You don’t know how to be there.
There’s no instruction manual.
You’re dead.
But life has just begun,
the dead life on the other side.
You cry out for help.
Someone hears you.
Are they the right one?
You don’t know how to do it,
receive them.
You’re just so confused.
You open the door to faith.
What you believed in on Earth
has not abandoned you,
and if you didn’t believe in anything,
it comes now.
It’s tall and strange.
This is not what you expected.
It receives you
one moment/limit at a time.
[above words heard spoken simultaneously]
You are not automatically taken in.
You’re put up with.
You’re just a person there to process.
The compassion of the angels
shows in fits and starts.
You’re a long ways off
from being received
on their condition.
You’ve got to glow first.
Bad times ahead,
as you encounter
what tripped you up
on Earth,
what got your goat,
what you couldn’t handle,
what you refused to see,
what you licked and swooned over,
what you didn’t know hurt you.
You are put in these situations
where you encounter dream.
There is no home base anymore,
no central mode,
but you come back to yourself over and over.
That’s your central lair:
you are this being in time.
It runs roughshod over you
you have to dream on.
You don’t like it.
It sucks.
Slowly you get your feet under yah.
You get used to the rhythm
of see-saw death.
You climb.
You step up.
You receive them,
all these packages
of people you knew in life
that you made a storybook with.
Some of these are reunions.
You hold their hand.
Some of these are joy-shock.
You cling to each other.
What we wanted on Earth
we get here.
You’re in union.
It lasts the length of a cup,
and you’ve been given a solid measure,
and you are ready to depart
for other perfection.
You see people there
you hated in life
or you did under.
You do not enjoy this section.
It’s compensation.
You give them what they need,
and you move on.
This is fair and certain:
you have your encounters,
and they show you life
as oneness sees it.
You can reject no one,
and all morality’s based on this.
It is oneness we spring from
and what we manage
living.
We are here to be one.
A deeper look arises from our journey.
We go the distance
to a greater life.
A quest of the Spirit pulls on us,
and we let it take us in its arms.
We are higher now,
lighter in spirit.
We are so together now,
and we’re ready for more.
I’ve taken you there,
right to realization’s wings,
when you become a ship on the other side
sailing into God’s heaven.
You’re right there at Heaven’s gates,
the heaven of your pearl,
the one you sing about
to encounter God.
You are not all together
a central ship.
Many heavens receive you,
and many positions of Heaven there are.
Now let’s get goin’
towards the realization of life.
You can open those doors here
and redirect your life,
and when you enter death,
you are in kingdom.
It’s not about dyin’.
It’s about being prepared to grow up.
We do that here.
We do that there.
Here counts
more than there.
Here is the rollercoaster
of the fly-room.
These are conscious gates you see.
Open up your life here,
on this growth,
and life will line up to receive you
in all of the quests you need.
Uncanny this,
strong and large.
You’re in good hands
on this journey
to your being’s growth.
I’m countin’ it to yah
precisely in measure
with my life under the sun.
I’m a conscious arrangement,
and I poetry this to you now.
Bombs away.
Thank God it’s Friday.
Thank God I’m not in your way.
Death’s a cookbook
I jargon.
I have a bunch of history books
repair life.
You want to read them now.
Come on let’s go to field.
I’m a happy bottom death.
I’m a joy to the world.
Just listen to me sing.
I planet with Mr. Rogers,
still have his medicine:
I really love—
bonding agent
to the poems I write to you.
Take me.
You wanna watch that video or not?
It’s limited stairs,
but I’ve baked you at hide and seek,
and it’s all gone wrong.
There is no leeway here.
You just wanna get to where you’re goin’,
without all the rough stuff.
You don’t wanna lollygag.
There’s Hell’s kitchen
that will not move away from you,
if you don’t come to.
Where am I?
Oh shit you got it.
I’ve read your paperwork on that.
It’s my own.
We have been through these stages so many times.
It’s a revolvin’ door.
Just listen.
Hullabaloo
on your spot,
you have to be careful.
You haven’t learned my draft yet.
I’ve really gotten shadows.
Van Helsing,
here is monster’s lair,
where you find them.
Don’t scream yet.
They haven’t caught you.
Don’t realize your time,
they will.
Now I’ve put all the poise in,
and this poem is right here with the market.
How would you find after death?
Dally there
coverin’ up our pickup spots.
It’s the issue save a Lord.
This a mode to deliver God.
How does the call center get such a hideous head?
Can you hear it’s divine element?
Put it in your pipe and smoke it.
That’s how we race cars.
We local His feet put on,
and divine reason we format His being,
without that hunch.
I don’t say black I say white.
That’s not a dirty gun.
That’s not a slave our gun.
I get to know You.
I know you do.
Now be quiet.
Are You mad at me?
Put 10 extra effort,
add rifle
to your calling card.
It’s now clear.
Ah, open your eyes.
You’re a divine endeavor.
And that’s what we die for.
I mean God put us on to be human.
I haven’t listened to His music,
I haven’t listened to His song,
I have to keep dying to put it on,
and that’s the guitar,
the way we become divine.
This is street music.
That’s what blesses us everyone.
My God I’m arch-pink,
and I’ve got subscriptions.
Each thing we revolve around God.
This is a vehicle of thought.
Wow, we’re in the ways with man.
There might be the thought in there you wouldn’t even know exact,
but it already fits the handle
I have my hands on God.
We want to broadcast that
to where our being lives in time.
We are on the way to Godhood,
who we are in time.
Bust out usually for lunch,
on the wrong and us wanting to survive.
We meet that with heroes.
We do not let God down.
That’s our humanity.
I will pick it up
one role at a time
and deliver it from evil,
following
God behind the dust.
Death is not an entrapment.
We get up by it and fly.
We glory it all over us.
The 18 store is closed,
and we reveal something else.
Can we run?
We no longer die,
just our bodies
after a long field put on.
We manifest
the nature of God,
right here on Earth,
and we have conquered death
and overcome pain,
and that’s where we want to go with this.
There is no such thing
as a void of that,
and if I fall short,
this will be tied together
with real humanism,
with my humanity,
and I will overcome this obstacle in me and in man.
Okay,
email.
In fact,
put in the right notebook
and send it out to the world.
Principle the opportunity.
Praise the window.
It’s still goes into Mind,
whether we read it or not
on this post.
It’s how we survive the culls
on thought.
It’s how we survive.
I’m a limit-book on that.
I go beyond the limits.
Thank you for coming you’re across the road,
where death is not so bright.
We are not in its envelope.
It is not our keeper.
It’s a son of a bitch.
Between love and your loved one
there is death.
I am sorry this be.
We can do nothing about it but die.
If death were a person I’d shoot him,
gouge his eyes out,
but let’s be reasonable about this:
the acceptance of death is the acceptance of pain.
Death alludes us,
will not let us explain reality
in terms of trust and love.
Alright it’s there.
So be it.
Here’s some advice a gravedigger would give you,
puttin’ your body to the worms.
Bardo, I don’t know,
it is a spiritual test,
and we grapple with it
till kingdom come.
That’s the starlight.
I’ve spoken death,
wonderful news,
that we survive its existence.
Anybody hungry for oblivion?
See you on the other side.
You climb out of sleep into death,
and that wakes you up,
thank God.
Get out of the water,
and be calm and clear-eyed towards death.
It’s a menacing stair,
so necessary to our birth.
Taxman that’s true,
but there is so much hope in this commercial.
We don’t even know what I did.
I’ve raised the sky,
took the furious route.
I’ve given you diamonds,
and I am loathsome to you,
a real life pedophile,
giving you knowledge in your sleep.
What does woke mean?
Join us, will yah,
in the knowledge that you are one with and wanting to relate to
anybody that can be related to,
the mechanic’s store,
to where we get enlightened,
not a thought process a change of consciousness,
a complete reversal as a matter of fact,
and we see ahead of us divinity.
Put that in your woke starter and smoke it.
That’s the system of wokeness.
The miracle of other people,
do you feel it?
It stings sometimes.
Take out your woke lists
and pick me up.
I’ve got a special offer
for the people of the entire world.
Kinda gets in your guns, doesn’t it.
Ego Activism
Launch of Will
In this system show you guys how to do it. What is office in the film? That’s ego activism. I’ve had enough. Are you sure you’re sorry? You’ve said it. And we hear from the crowd. They see me in my underwear. Sing hallelujah to the Lord. [heard sung, song “Sing Hallelujah”] What do I do with Joseph? Isn’t that my own enigma? Help makes it vocally present. Go 900. The heaviest place on earth, you go in it, a chest of healing. I got ears.
Ego activism (the short list)— dynamic social action using one’s creativity to undermine the dominance of the human ego in the world, one’s own ego as well as the ego in general. It has the aim to quicken human evolution out of this ego stage of identity. It recognizes the primacy of the ego as the root of the problems in the human condition, and while it may address individual problems, such as climate change, sexual assault, mass murder, and racism, to name pressing ones today, it sees the solution in not giving primacy to the ego but to a more integral and unified human identity based on oneness, on the part of everybody, not just the people manifesting this wrong or that, their own ego being the primary ego the activist aims to surpass.
It does not point the finger at the behavior of others without three fingers pointing back at the activist, and when it does point the finger, it does so with compassion and understanding, for one’s self as well the ones being pointed out, keeping out of its attitude self-righteousness, judging, blaming, anger, hatred, and violence. It engages people with sincerity, vulnerability, beauty, and a knowledge of truth, truth not being any religious formula but what’s actually going on. While it’s never mean, it is frank and honest, is not afraid to speak its piece or call a spade a spade, and while pacifism is its preferred mode of action, it’s not adverse to the activist physically defending themselves and others if the genuine need arises.
Self-sacrifice, however, is a major characteristic of ego activism, not however, the kind that surrenders to the condemnation and punishment of the world, which would be surrendering to the ego and its methods, but the kind whereby the activist is willing to put themselves at great risk in conducting the action, not foolish, impulsive risk that has harm to the activist or death as its probable or certain outcome, but wise, calculated risk that has both the needs of the activist and the world at heart and in harmony whatever the outcome.
A Primacy of Dream
The present day (20-6-2021), where Douglas and I have taken this, the interpretation of dream, to an actual method. The article below (that starts with the dream in blue print) is not out of date with our discoveries and understandings concerning dream; it’s just not invariably clear and concise, does not present a method, so as succinctly as I can, I do so now.
I have to say forthwith that dreams are too multifaceted to narrow down to a method that works for every single dream, as the article below points out, but the great majority of the time, we have found after decades of dreamwork, you can take a dream and assume it’s showing you the inner view of some outer experience or occurrence that has happened the day before or will happen the day after the dream. The time thing is really flexible though, and it’s often that the dream falls into a three day window either way, past of future, and on any given night, there are dreams of both. It can even be showing you events that will happen many years into the future and that have happened many years in the past, and it can do that while it’s showing you what’s happening ‘now’ (or not) so incredibly rich and many things at once dreams are.
Individual dreams can be thus interpreted even though they usually form a dream movement that is composed of many dreams occurring over a period of time, which can be recognized and become part of the overall interpretation, a recognition also that on any given night multiple dream movements are occurring, and even if you’re only able to capture a dream or two a night and interpret them, viewing them in this multifarious framework, you have quite a means of putting together just what’s going on with you.
The difficulty in interpreting dreams is that dreams rarely show the outer event or experience literally; they show a representational picture of how that outer thing looks on the inside of us, the inner process of the thing, something not so clearly stated in the article below, the inner telling of an outer thing, but it is basically the biggest key in the practical interpretation of dream. The key itself is that they capture our evolution as we move through life, but that’s the big picture, and it will suffice just to mention it here. The incredible aspect of interpreting dream is that it shows you what you’re about to experience in life, but because it’s showing you the inner view of the outer happening, you usually don’t see it until after the fact.
Douglas and I, but especially he, have given many examples of this method of interpreting dreams in the articles about dream on this blog, so to understand what I’m saying in regards to dreams showing the inner view of an outer event, you’d have to read a lot of this blog, see a lot of examples, and the following article will be an aid. But there in no substitute for working with your own dreams.
A couple of months ago I was dreaming I was sitting down against a building in a field waiting for my mom to come and pick me up, and I became not only lucid but aware of myself in my bed, that place where if you just open your eyes you’re awake, twilight I call it. As I heard her car stop at the road some 100 meters from where I was, I got up, and on the ground in front of me there took shape a very beautiful mandala with the words “I love you” on it, made with many colors. It was made in a way that had my mom all over it, that is, it captured the essence of the way she made things, the colors and shapes, and I felt the strong presence of her as I saw it and read her message to me, understanding that this was a message to me from beyond death.
A few nights ago the following scene occurred in a dream, with another member of my immediate family, though one not deceased:
I’m driving my sister’s pickup truck down a highway, and she’s riding shotgun. We are going from a town where she lives to where I have my jeep parked, a distance of a few of miles. We talk on the way, or rather, I do, telling her of my current plans to move to the mountains. She lets me out at the parking lot I’m living in for the couple of days while I’m in transition from my former living situation to the one in the mountains. After she drops me off I think that she could have invited me to dinner or even stay the night at her house, and I wonder over why she didn’t.
A couple of nights ago I dreamed this scene with another family member, who’s also still alive:
My dad has taken me and some other hitch hikers to a gas station and is dropping us off. I’m on my way to Houston, a distance of about a 100 miles. As the others leave to go hitch, he tells me to put my suitcase in the truck, and I know that means he’s going to take me to Houston so we can spend some time together, and the dream ends. I hear a few lines of muse about the dream as I come awake completely in bed.
“If you google the word dreams you will get millions of hits for websites devoted to dream interpretation. Are any of them worth a visit? Very likely not. Why not? Because there is no scientifically supported system of dream interpretation. What you will get if you look at dream interpretation blogs, sites, pages, and the like will be garbage pure and simple. Or they will be the writer’s own idiosyncratic interpretation of dream images and that typically is not very interesting at all.”[i] The quote is from an article in Psychology Today. It’s not suggesting that dreams are meaningless, but that any attempt to interpret dreams until science cracks the dream code and provides a system to interpret them is garbage or at best so boring as to not be worth your time. But the ignorance of science isn’t the measure of our knowledge of dreams or our ability to interpret them, and why should its ignorance be the holdup in dream inquiry? Because science can’t interpret dreams, does that mean we can’t?
Douglas and I have been taking individual dreams and visions, including the inner voice, and interpreting aspects of them that can be shown to have some relevance to our daily personal lives and that of humanity in general, focusing on linking dream movements to ones in waking life and discussing dreams that reveal an inner connection between human beings, ones that suggest we live in a field of consciousness rather than in our own private inner world unconnected to the inner lives of others, which is the view of science.
In the most basic sense, dreams show us what’s going on with us, what’s on our minds, in our hearts, what we say with our mouths and do with our hands as we move through life, sometimes acting as a proving ground for personal movements not in our best interest, allowing us to see they indeed aren’t, or sometimes just simply being a gestalt, the dream itself being an meaningful experience that isn’t necessarily representing anything about our waking life, and dreams are not only about our personal symbols: study and tell us about other dreamers as well. But in this basic explanation of dreams I’ve not by any means exhausted their purpose and scope. And while dreams focus mostly on our present, they not only use images of our past to show us our now but also use our future too, but they not only focus on our present; sometimes they are almost exclusively about the past or future.
Dreams and visions are like a looking glass revealing the ins and outs of our life movement in itself and as it interacts with that of others and with the world and universe at large. That they do this in representative terms, telling a story about our story, about the story of others, and that they can be seen to have not only the past in them but also the future, the more of which you see, in little pieces, the more you can actually interpret them, suggests creative intelligence within us but beyond ours telling the story, intelligence that can see the whole picture, not only of our whole life past, present, and future, not only what’s going on with ourselves, but also what’s going on with everything and everybody we significantly interact with, are connected to, intelligence that can see through the walls of time and form.
I’ve come to believe this intelligence is the soul, what in us that transcends the material envelope[ii], which doesn’t create dream actually but is the is influence on it shaping it along our own personal evolutionary lines, influencing the organization of all the various elements that present themselves from whatever quarter in the making of any given dream into something that has meaning for us. The quality of people’s dreams vary widely I’ve found, and not everyone has storytelling dreams. For many they are just an incoherent barrage of sound and image, the reason I suspect many label them just random things coming up from the subconscious or from our active memory of the day’s events, or what’s pressing on us as we sleep.
The more coherent your dreams are, the more they tell a story, and the more you can see yourself in them making decisions based on judgment and reason that are resolving conflicts within yourself or with others, healing your personal mess or integrating who you dislike or who dislikes you, the more your soul has a hand in shaping them, and, consequently, the more they can be used as guidance, as a road map that not only shows where things are and the direction you need to go, but also what’s obstructing you and what’s aiding you in getting there.[iii] Where ‘there’ is depends on you, the direction of your life’s movement, its purpose to put it more meaningfully, but, if you are able to put the inner eye on the outer world to the degree you see the underlying unity of all things and all people, what comes more and more into focus as you do see the outer world through the inner lens, regardless of where you’re headed to personally, you’ll see you and I, all of us, are moving to wholeness in our relations with ourselves, each other, and with the world at large, working out oneness.
The above dream scenes show this process at work, but, in what what might be called the catch 22 of dream, I can’t contact any of my family members to verify inner contact with them, since my mom’s been dead some years, and neither my sister nor my dad will speak to me. It’s a catch 22 because so often dream, when it’s seeing beyond the physical senses, shows us things in shadow, or shows us the shadow side of things, what we or others don’t want to admit, what we want to keep a secret, and so we are often unable to verify the dream with waking life. Although the case here isn’t something bad being hidden, is just I can’t verify the dream because the people involved are either dead or won’t speak to me, it appears to me things like clairvoyance, which these three dream scenes are examples of, each a different aspect of it, happens all the time among us, but it doesn’t get verified, or even usually mentioned, because it shows things we don’t want others to see. In a rather rebellious and somewhat illicit earlier piece on my personal blog, “Under the Graffiti”, I point this out in a way that might bring it closer to home:
“It’s happened so many times not only in my own personal experiences of anything to do with clairvoyance and the senses seeing past their physical range, but also with many others I’ve talked to who’ve related to me their experiences, ones that they really couldn’t tell someone else about (I got these ‘I know I’ve been bad’ ears, so you don’t have to worry none), or at least not the whole story, because it revealed their shadow side, so much so and in so many instances I’ve come across that it seems to be part and parcel of the process, that the ESP’s not only to give you that sight but more to try and wake you up out of your animal cravings, get you to get up, evolve, and that’s the number one reason I’d bet we don’t hear about these things as much as they occur among us: they show our bad that we don’t want others to see.”[iv]
I think anyone intensely involved in working with their dreams with others they physically share daily experience with, who’s had a lot of experience being part of such a dream group, would be inclined to agree with me in regards to the above, would see the shadow in that light, but that our dreams (in fact our lives) are working out oneness takes an inner depth of seeing that goes beyond the scenes of the world, contact with the soul, and I can only tell you that you really have to look for it to see it if you don’t, but once you begin to see it, you wonder why in the world everybody can’t see it it’s so present and apparent.
The three examples I give are showing a process of reconciliation ongoing between the members of my immediate family and I, those three people perhaps the most commonly recurring characters of my dream life, and I suspect it’s the case with most of us; we dream all our lives about who were the most significant people in our formative years, whose womb we came from, whose genes, who we shared that womb with, if, that is, they were actively there as we grew up. If not, it’s the people that most filled those roles. My muse once told me that the more one we are with someone, those most like us or close to us, like a brother or sister, or a neighbor, the more likely we won’t get along with them, and if you look at the world and its conflicts, that’s often the case.
Before my mom died she had little to do with me, and we didn’t communicate often. She carried that enmity into death, and it seems that on the other side she realized some things, the need of reconciliation for one, and so she sent me a clear message of love, her first from the other side, in the form of that colorful mandala, and it came in the context of a longer dream I was having with her, not her I should point out but a representation of her my dream maker had made, and this is an important point about dream: most often when we dream of someone it’s not actually them in the dream, not a dream sharing experience, or only extremely rarely, but our dream maker making their image so as to represent some inner or outer interaction with them. The message was well placed in my life, came when I needed that declaration of love from her.
It’s not yet accepted human knowledge that we continue on after we die, much less that the dead can communicate with us, but we’ll get there before long, since these kinds of communications from departed loved ones are so common to human experience. It’s often like it is in this dream scene, they give us some message or sign rather than seeing them face to face, and when it is actually meeting them, the meeting is quite short and comes most often in the representative mode of dream, like you and they doing some activity together, not as you and they able to just chat a moment.
With my sister Gwen reconciliation is still some ways away, if it’ll even happen before one of us dies, and then it’s inevitable, but it is in process, as the dream of her taking me some distance in her truck shows. In the scene I was driving it, which would indicate that for some time during her day, a day close to my dream, I drove her life vehicle for a little while, that is, I was driving her thought and feeling for some distance, a few miles the dream shows, and that it was in broad daylight and on a major highway shows this was conscious on her part, not on a side road under the shadow of trees. She carried me in her mind and heart for some distance, but, as the scene also shows, she went no further, didn’t take me to dinner or to spend the night. Since she’s made it very clear she wants nothing at all to do with me, it’s probable she keeps me out of her mind as much as possible, but with someone as close to you as your brother, that’s just not possible to do all the time, and sometimes the heart wins out, as is the case here.
It’s not possible, as I said, to verify this inner communication with my sister, or rather me picking up on her thinking of me with enough emotional force to register in my inner life, but I’ve seen this play out in dreams enough times to know it’s the interpretation of the dream scene. It came in the context of a longer dream that had nothing to do with her, but since the dream took place near where she lives, she appeared in it. I’d probably picked up the inner communication some time before, and it waited in my inner being until such time a dream appeared that could represent it. As I’ve suggested, dreams are composed of many different elements that come from various places within and without us, and they are organized together to form a dream.
The dream scene with my father happened at the end of a longer dream I was having with him, and though it would also show inner communication between us, or rather what we each are thinking of the other, it’s this scene that shows more clearly reconciliation happening, or that he’s now willing to give me some time in his heart and mind at the very least. The scene ends where I’m about to drive with him to Houston, a couple of hours away, where we’ll be alone together and can talk. Upon awaking from the dream the scene ended, my muse suggested that he was going to read (or have read to him, since he can’t see very well now) a long story[v] about the Duke family I wrote and made a copy of and had mailed to him snail mail, and that might be what the suitcase represents he told me to put in the trunk, the suggestion that he’ll read it at some point in the near future. I can only speculate if that’s the case, but, although I can’t verify he’s going to give me some time focused alone time in his thoughts and feelings, I know very well that’s what the dream’s showing.
It’s this very thing many people, especially from science, object to at bottom, God and soul being objections based more on this overriding viewpoint rather than on being impossibilities in their own right: knowing something to be true that the physical senses haven’t verified or really can’t verify. I’d suspect the author of the Psychology Today article I quoted has this fear at heart, and all who think like him in regards to dreams being unintelligible things, and that their interpretation is something we ought not to bother other people about on “blogs, sites, pages, and the like.” That fear is that reality won’t conform to material science, and they’ll have to remarkably shift their worldview, significantly change their lives, and maybe even lose their jobs, though as they experience it, it’s the fear that superstition will take the place of knowledge or greatly hamper its pursuit as it’s done in the past, as it’s doing now.
Today, however, superstition, the kind that’s holding up knowledge about ourselves and our world, isn’t so much religious, although religion definitely points a gun at knowledge and sometimes even shoots it. It’s the ignorance of the people with their hands on the world doorknob of knowledge, your average mainstream techno-culture scientists, who have their hands on the way we define the world, the research cash to investigate it, the news media to cover it, the arts and literature to symbolize it, that keeps us in the dark about the most basic things about us with their dogmatic insistence on the primacy of matter, the most basic of those things being we have a soul, and we share not only a field of consciousness together but one also of identity. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s the darkness of fear.
I’ve suggested many times now our next revolution in knowledge will be the one that occurs when we turn our attention to inner exploration, the investigation of consciousness and the inner life, one that’s already begun not only on “blogs, sites, pages, and the like”, but also in our hearts and minds, though not yet as a revolution, the big one we’ve all been anticipating in one form or another (just not yet inner), one that will turn society as we know it on its ear, change our most basic social institutions, change even being human. Many if not most feel technology’s what it’s about, it being our human endeavor, and we measure our progress more by our advances in technology than by a growing and greater sense of our shared humanity.
Dreams are the most common and available doorway into the inner life, the subliminal life we live deeper than conscious thought, and talking about them in a public space quickens the inner revolution in society, since dreams can show us to be more than a mere physical body that has somehow engendered its own separate bubble of conscious awareness, and such knowledge really turns you on.
By showing our dreams and visions here at Harm’s End, Douglas and I hope to demonstrate that we are so much more than some separate spume of matter floating on a shoreless sea in meaningless infinitude. Far from being garbage or so boring you’re wasting your time, blogs about dream and inner exploration such as this one, and the thousands like it on the net, on social media, are slowly but surely lighting the world with the inner fire, whether they’re right on about our interpretations of inner experience or not. Ours is the attempt to light the inner fire in the world, and we fumble a lot as happens when lighting a fire from wet material, but once that fire starts, no power on earth can put it out. Even now, on more than one page, truth is staring back at us, truth being not some religious or scientific formula but what’s actually happening with us in our seemingly brief little lives.
[i] https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/dream-catcher/201307/the-folly-dream-interpretation
[ii] Our inner being, or dreambody, since it is open to the universal, also can see into the inner life of others and into the future (to a limited extent), but it’s the soul behind it that’s ultimately the intelligence in us shaping our life.
[iii] I’ve greatly over simplified the making of dream, skipping over a tremendous amount of inner process and going directly to the soul, which to become conscious of you have to become conscious of that inner process, but I’ve done so because it’s not God behind all shaping our dreams and as well our life movement in general as we tend to believe if we do believe there’s higher intelligence behind it; it’s our individual soul, as it’s God’s delegate in humanity, and the more conscious we are of our soul the more it can do that more directly.
[iv] https://acollaborationwiththeunknown.wordpress.com/auto-biographical-sketches-a-letter-and-a-comment/ (You’ll have to scroll down to the graffiti story.)
[v] https://harms-end.com/2016/08/05/minor-attraction-on-rock-hill/





