The Dalai Lama in Auroville, 1993, putting in the foundation stone for the construction of the Tibetan Pavilion there. In a speech afterwards, he said, “You can be a believer or an unbeliever…, but there is no choice between being a compassionate or non-compassionate person.” Photo courtesy of The Auroville Adventure
Did you know an Aurovillian won’t read this, no matter what I do? These are tough shares. Talk about hang in the water all in yoga. My cousin slapped my mother. It’s hard to believe such anxiety. Let me muscle you at, heart poundin’ in my ears.
Let me say that again. Oh boy, you wouldn’t believe it. These are in heartbeats that you don’t know to measure the light of the sun. I wish I could come down to a heart in my living room the Shambhala success magic. I cannot spray this in numbers. The heart central has to be the case. It’s dog eat dog otherwise.
Where do I put this compartment? In everything I do and breathe. It can’t be left out. You regard everyone as potential shares. You can’t stop evil among you with the ball and chain. You can’t just keep it from happening with everybody’s suspicions.
You have to rise to the occasion and also consider the bad man. What does he need to do to change? Can he do that among you? Yeah, people just want him gone.
There’s somethin’ I can’t get across over here. If you wanna create Shambhala, you have to envision his place among you healed and changed. Shambhala is the perfection of humanity where Auroville is. You have to rise above yourselves and do that.
You will not even listen to the change. You have closed your hearts and ears to a peaceful man among you who is poeting this change. How can it leave out the community, the bedrock of the change?
You know it would speak to it drum rose people. It would have the imprint of the divine sounding poetry’s worth. Terrible is it?
I come from another land. I do not meet the world it’s a thing out there and I’m a thing in here. / Those lines have been drawn, and they are wiggly now. I meet the world inside myself. In the substance of my vision something is wrong. The world is not a normal train ride, and my thoughts don’t take me there. I see the substance of vision it’s all acres of That, the substance of the show. You wanna know the gist of it? It comes to oneness.
Now bake my bread I’m normal, nothing special to look at, just another person to be around. Now test my feet I’m normal. I get angry laugh and cry. I can give you an argument. My difference is my hands on you. I’m lookin’ at the One starin’ back at me.
This is so real to my eyes my hands collaborate this. I am in your field of vision, and my that hurts, if I even make you feel bad. I don’t wanna do that, and this is strong stuff to prevent me.
Are you an alien on that? Have you reached the divine in vision? Do you know how to heal the sick, and they are not sick in body they are sick in hands, and their actions hurt the world, rob the community? How many times we said we needed that, heal the community?
This is a frog suit. I’m lifted out of the water until I cry. I mean I have to come up and record lines. Do you get the picture back and forth? I’m hearin’ these lines in inner vision I’ve developed over a lifetime. You hear the sauce now all Sri Aurobindo’d, the Mother’s guidance please.
Here’s the thing. It changes consciousness. The world grabs you in this. You see signs everywhere. You’re walkin’ hand in hand with the divine, but that’s not the beauty of it. It’s soundin’ bodies way out in front of you the substance of their mystery crayola figures of That, and it dawns on you it’s peeling you through everything, and will you get a load of that? The invisible ties connects us. Wow, I’ve just shored everything.
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.
photo by Lydia, Dylan’s mom, a representative photo: the you in the poem is you, who ever you are, not the kid, or not until he reads poetry
Shooting rifles into the air, that’s my electric snow. It won’t move men. It can’t get at the oil in time that damages us, makes us mean, and I can’t even make you feel better.
Headlong into our joys and pains, into what makes us tick, into together you and me, I come up empty of the value of our ship where you whistle on board.
I don’t know how to reach the other side, where I’m not a page in oneness, but I’ve crawled under your bedcovers, and I’m up against your body safe. Tell me how to do that.
I spill myself. I just pour my guts out, and darlin’ you get enough of that. You aren’t gonna lie to me I know I reach your bed or not. I can hold innocence in my hand, but I can’t rub myself with you with it, but I can’t find that spot on you you take it.
Dang blast it stars, it’s not all about the body, but that’s where we meet each other in person. I’m tryin’ to say we can still do the value in verse of the sincerity meeting you.
It’s the secret of poetry. It’s my hand in yours as you dally with your own. I find you there my sweetness givin’ your kids a bath, takin’ your dog for a walk, liftin’ your mind to the skies in anticipation of more there be. Oh honey boogers, can we swing together?
I think you’ve found your verse, Eastern were able to read. There’s a piss on your blacklist. Guess what ladies and gentlemen, a rowboat, and there appears on your ears deeper meaning.
You think you’re too weird for our TV? You’ve touched hearts, you know? But the chorus rings out— how did it happen? How did you do anything at all? [sing this and above line] It’s about how to hold life at bay when we’re in a very physical intimacy. My official model is bliss. This will be call master.
image by the author, Earth in space public domain via Wikipedia
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.
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?
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?
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?
Donald Trump official portrait, 2025 (public domain)
Do me a favor, blind yourself to where you don’t see. There was an executive order here that pit man against man, shot men and arranged to murder more. Can we look at the oligarchy?
I’ve seen you in rivers of hate you just think you put on for show. Make a wide trench and make that the border with Mexico and fill it with orders and snakes, great big alligators. Did you say this to your aids? The orders are to shoot people. That’s illegal Mr. President. Then shoot them in the legs.
I don’t think anybody understood that. A mean joke you say. It was the reality he thought about, never mind the children that crossed too, the grandpas and women with babies, any ole human being that wants a better life, and you said he was joking. Let’s put the death penalty all along this land, press people to use it. We’re gonna make them pay a blood lust so dear you love the president for it. I’d reach for the psychopath in the room and don’t give him arms to kill people.
Can you see the character of a man that wants to kill? That’s the president, and you think he’s joking. Let’s appease Hitler, shall we? He hasn’t become the meanest man alive, what we realized after the fact.
Now ole Trump’s got an agenda. It’s not to make America safe. We put our egos where our mouth is. America first means Trump first.
You don’t know the national politics that makes your ego identify with its nation like it’s you. It’s a constituent landmass. The ego is made up of such as these, your gender your identity or a race and a peoplehood, sexuality if yours is the odd man out, and the gas it all of religion. I can name more.
Let’s put the most powerful nation on Earth Trump first, never mind the responsibility of being your brother’s keeper. Higher ideals no longer apply. We are selfish and revel in it. Fuck the world you dirty bastards, is that what this all means?
Is that how a kid sees it? How many would share their toys? I don’t think you’re lookin’ at the younger generation and what this means to their grow up. Can I kill people momma if they make me mad?
Sit with yourself a moment. If Trump could kill his enemies would he? We’re talking about the character of a man that lets hate rule his room. Seething with ill will, he justifies a nation. It don’t come out right.
Can we cross this again? History has put these men in power over and over. You’re flattered. He has the character you wear, mean-mouthed, hate this person and that individual. Send them all back to China! Okay you put the mass in power, it’s not gonna be a good human being rules yah. I think even the Bible makes deacons exceptional. Now tell me again the Bible makes place for him.
I don’t think you’re lookin’ at dictators that steal the hearts and minds of the mass and just please your undeveloped, brass nature. Every nation lives like this, and that’s why we call it populist today.
Oh what pride the Nazis wore in their cruelty, in their disregard for human life and diversity, and they all wore the nationalism pin and wanted you to behave like them. Can we take a step backwards? Can we just almost commit suicide with the power we’ve given one man?
You don’t see it, do yah? Look into his eyes. There’s a killer there. I don’t know what history will unfold, but this man can’t be right in the history books of tomorrow. Revel in him now, praise his name; you’re on dangerous ground. He’s got the end of the world in his eyes. Can you see it?
No, he won’t stage that. It’s just what he’s made of, the world leader of selfishness and this is mine. He won’t bring the apocalypse, nothing close, but we will be so embarrassed as Americans when his power comes to a close. MAGA hell, he brought shame.
There is something ninja. He can walk around clothed in a smiling president and assassinate so many people’s lives with deportation, the death penalty, and bring it on climate change. Wow, there is something. He’s not my most selfish person in the world. He’s not my most selfish. To Earth had this lion king thing, except maybe I’ll get on the other side. One caught right here: definitely not a good person.
You’re not gonna find anyone to build your snowman for yah that froze all cooperation missed their forgiveness key. Can you see that children? He just broke in my house and stole all my transgender people. They must evoke the 5th Amendment or die. You’re gonna stay there and hope we have policy changes on Earth. I’m pregnant. Oh my God the 14th Amendment’s in there, right at the moment of conception. I tell yah an embryo’s not a person yet, even if they have the right to be. You can’t see what you’re doin’, takin’ the Constitution as the folly in the room, what tells lies.
I’m sure you don’t like talkin’ to me, but I’m the medicine. It’s not that human I’m talking about. You got too much action, storm as big as he is. I think you and I see a woman stand in our shoes. Take themselves very differently. That’s not a pedophile. That’s a lover of children that does not molest children.
Don’t be so wrapped up in pronouns or who’s speakin’ the poem. You savvy a woman speak? In his vital. You don’t know the breakdown of the human being. It’s not a mind and body problem. A vital being fits in there just as pretty as you please, mitigating between the two. If we knew this we’d understand gender discrepancies, and we’d never discount the body. I have a mental male, vital female, and physical male. What do you got? Do you see where it all adds up? Don’t get mad at it and cut if off.
Do you see the human being? We didn’t go to the same place. We went to the four winds, and it was diversity made us equal. Did yah hear me Trump? Let’s put white Americans on top by making sure they stay on top and get rid of every program that don’t put them there. I’m callin’ the shots— systemic racism.
I’ve gotta get off this island and give the right blues for my speak, and who do I address now? The oneness body of the United States. It’s bigger than the world. It includes every man, woman, and child in the world. Can you see that oneness big? Not in an amalgamated mass. We give each person their personhood and allow them to be Americans or whatever. They’re just not more important than Nicaraguans as human as they are, but we know they can’t all be Americans. We just differentiate with love not hate, or at least goodwill. Do you know the difference?
Inside a nation we see the world. The nation’s not greater than it. You’re just not lookin’ at the world right. You’re lookin’ at it in terms of you, like your ego’s your nation, and you can’t even get that right. No oneness circle there, is there?
Are you the center of the world or what? It’s so complicated in here. I’m standin’ right in the center of the world don’t you see? And that’s the fault of everyone. A common language like them best, the same culture, and we are so wrapped around skin color, racial features. Hello you there and me, fellow white people, or maybe it's black people, or all Native Americans.
Or maybe religion gets your dick? We all come from the same hole, and it’s a blessed hole, is it not? We are oneness speakers, how we identify with our beloved group. They’re in the center of the world with us. Are we just gonna drop oneness in the sand?
If you can identify with a nation you can identify with the world. We are all there don’t you see, in the oneness yard, even Trump, but not his hate, no one’s hate. A poem has made a bill of it, showin’ the world his, like it’s what he does the executive office with. There it is. Give him the shoes of a savior? You’ve got to be kidding me.
If we get into the deep roots of the poem, there’s an imbecile here, and it’s not Trump. I can see him so clearly because I’ve failed mine in great dark rooms. Shut up my speaker said; you are so pleasing to your humanity now. I’ve gotta tell yah I don’t have room to talk, but can we still meet at poem’s end I’ve shown you some truth? It doesn’t make freeways, but it lights up a path, you know? And we’ve got to get hate out of the room. That’s the item we wear. Do you hear me Trump? A self-reflective nightmare, I voted for this one.
Gardening deep in transition’s ways a like broadcast. Its own title shows its inadequacies. I don’t know how many people voted for Trump, but I’ve offended half the nation. Half the nation, I haven’t pleased them in liberties. I’ve just damaged their pride. I’ve lost my way they say. I can’t get Trump right.
There’s a man there that loves his nation and doesn’t want the government to interfere in people’s lives, unless you’re a part of the groups he mentions he thinks have slammed the nation or committed heinous crimes. He’s a figure standin’ up to tall water and not afraid to speak his mouth. He loves kin and family. He champions Israel. This is a good thing in a world that needs Israel, and he sees the war with China to make them back down and be careful with him. He’s not a filibuster that excites for war. He’s tempered there, and he may bring the cost of livin’ down.
Part of me would vote for him too if I didn’t have my eyes open on human nature, studying you. He’s mean he’s cruel, and we don’t need that. We need to be kind to one another and learn how to get along. Isn’t that what you teach your children in Sunday School?
I think you’ve lost your moorings from the true reason Christ came. It wasn’t to judge the quick and the dead. Now you’ve entered him into politics like Trump represents him, like you want to take over politics, not likin’ gender fluidity and gays teachin’ children and another host of stuff, but can you just stop a minute and study right and wrong, the fundamentals of it, be good to one another, not just your group or clan?
Do you really want a theocracy? I know that will destroy our nation. I’m talkin’ to power. It would take another three thousand years to get it back the way we wanted it, people themselves have a nature like Christ, and they get along. Can you hear my foot school? We don’t need against the law. We need love one another and be good to each other. Isn’t that the law written on our hearts?
Goodness rises from within when we open to the best in us, the highest. We need the liberty to do that, because it’s trial and error with each of us. It’s not a religion we are trying to cement on this planet. It’s help your brother and love. It’s be kind to your sister and hold her up. I know you want everybody Christians, but where would that lead us truthfully, honestly? It won’t lead us there. You’ve put Trump in that place as God’s helper. Okay is he there? What attracted you to Christ to begin with? Is that Trump?
Would you put Trump in God’s shoes that’s the way God acts in the world? Is that what you want your children to emulate? Does Trump’s behavior satisfy some raw nerve, or is it really the highest in man? We need high right now not low from our president. Do you hear me now?
He’s read by anger. He says it beautifully and sweetly. I saw the changes up front. He’s just so confused, afraid. I feel sorry for him. It’s his lowest book, give you trouble.
He doesn’t know what to do with himself. I’ve already got complaint. Pound the report. He keeps forgetting the name of the trashcan they threw him in the night it happened.
You’ll do exactly what I say to waters, to water. It pulls him. He does it. He masturbates in front of his father and mother. I have a question. Why do they want him to masturbate? You would think it would be the other way around. It was. It’s soon to be pleasure house.
There, there now the father’s hand. You’ll get a rise out of me in a minute with this. After that he met the strong end of the law. Come help, and Sandiya slapped him as he pulled, pulls his red car. He felt his little toy rear end. He screamed, and his father pulled it by the roots again. Now, he was hysterical, and that’s how he got into the bathroom with his mother, and then she syphoned his little pony to sooth, golden fellatio.
Son of a bitch, this is horrible news. The vision is exactly what happened, all the ponies included, and we rest our case here. It’s too lost to talk about, and that boy’s underwear is scared. This was the opening for him to destroy himself. This made him blight his tears for me. He couldn’t believe it had happened, and he kept tryin’ to forget about it. It was a horror story out of Genghis Khan.
Now it’s on Facebook, and you don’t believe it. I’m sorry it’s true. Spiritual vision shows it, and it has shown it all along. You just didn’t hear me the first time. Now they put all of this on him, the surveillance cameras, the total control, the psychological manipulation, the physical abuse, so he wouldn’t tell me what happened that night, and that’s why, dear ladies and gentlemen, he can have no contact with me whatsoever, in any shape for form.
They do not know about consciousness. They think you can hide somethin’ they did to a little boy, and I’m in union with him. They don’t know about consciousness. They think we’re separated, and we communicate daily. The boy’s gotten fluffed about it, and is trying to ignore it. He wants to accept this abuse and move on. He has been ruined in character, totally humiliated where he meets the world, and is scared to death of his parents when they’re in their wrath. He will do anything for them, except tell me to get lost.
Okay now that’s you’ve heard the story what are you gonna do? Nothin’. We haven’t crossed this bridge before. You just listen to stories. No one will question this kid with the proper treatment. They let his mother rule, and she is not good to him. Okay Pondy it’s your stuff. You need to see this, because this boy died on the Cross so you wouldn’t abuse your children. Can you figure me here?
He’s a representative example of what you do to children, just so exaggerated so it has the impact it has to show you abuse is wrong. You don’t know about representative figures. They’re a holy book. They are like a Christ, and you need to see them so you can get the full effect. This is godly awful, isn’t it?
Imagine what it’s like to be one with this child, sharing consciousness together no holds barred, and then he’s taken from me and has this done to him, and I have to watch a helpless observer. I screamed and I carried on to advocates, the TV news, and the Child Help Line. No one would question that kid or even worry about it. I was a crazy lark that needed to shut up, but I’m an activist, and I know my stuff. This story has gone out to every major NGO in the country that deals with child’s rights and preventing them from being abused, several Pondy TV news channels, and every major newspaper in the country. This story will get out, when the election’s over.
There’s no stoppin’ it now, and I’ll be right there to receive that boy to take him home and heal him, because that’s what union does. You’re unified on oneness, and systems of abuse do not have ground of being. It’s a union story of love and kindness. It’s oneness’ story, the heart of compassion, knowledge of one another where the soul sees.
I’m sorry I’m teachin’ yah new things. You’re not good with innovative stuff when it involves the terms and conditions of our being, what a human being is, and how it tries to rise up out of human being into the next class. I give you there with this kid. That’s our endeavor together, to change man.
Now tell me again I can’t heal this kid, but the truth of the matter is that we’ll heal each other. I’m in the same shape he’s in, only I will take the lead because I’m his daddy, and daddies, my sweet audience, really do know best. Thank you Pondicherry for letting him heal at my house, his home before all this started, his place of refuge and safety, a place of loving dog.
And that, my dear friends, is where this chapter ends. Did you know dogs are with us to become human beings? The soul says this, and evolution’s its spur. That’s why they live in our homes. That’s why they’re our children. They have an appointment with destiny when they change to the higher kind, and for a mountain of dog lives they learn the ways of human being, until they become a Lisa, my beloved dead Rottweiler, and they have the magic of human being in their eyes growin’ their understanding inside. They have reached the pinnacle of dog, and our house raises dog, and that boy’s right in the middle of it, lovin’ those dogs and those dogs lovin’ him. Imagine how his dogs felt when he was taken. They’ve never seen him again.
We have the ingredients for healing I tell you, even in the notion of dream. It’s candy for us. What did you dream last night? And we all tell. We have a healing house, and we’re ready for this boy to return. Now Pondicherry we’re a prototype, and you’ve gotta be big enough to see it. You’re a big enough town for it. The supramental manifestation on Earth descended here first. You grapple with big things. It’s time you knew that, and it’s you Pondicherry, you, that replaces Jerusalem as the city of hope, the city of peace, and we’re here to help you with that, me and this boy. Okay Pondicherry, let us heal.
You’ll have to give me the man roles. What have we here? Look at this kid, strangely peacock even in defeat. Are you listenin’ Pondicherry? Tell me a secret. I get him smooth. You crazy person, you’re by the wall; I’ll try not to tell you to get lost after the election.
We are the soul rise, he and I, and I understand your concern, and I understand your confusion. Boy get it to become man, and we’re hit Pondicherry on the head of its going to school. Now laugh at that will yah, and tell me I’m a fool. You haven’t read his poetry yet, nor seen that strength of soul. Just sit back and relax and review our material. Videos, poems, and songs will knock your socks off, will do your head in, will be kind and gentle and sweet, every time you see us talk, but we will be loud, and awfully bright.
Now here am I in front of Pondicherry, goodnight. Hey, can I get you something? Do you need to cut us up in pieces and throw it away? You don’t need to do anything except go with the movement. We know how to ride the storm. What happened? You heard the story that they took ‘im and all that ensued, and I am his daddy, and I would like to raise him again. All sorts of thought we give you Pondicherry. One came in a dog suit. Vision of Luna. (vision of my Rottweiler standing outside near a wood) The wrong people have that boy now. You need to see this and make it right. You can see the future in us if you look hard enough.
Nithish and his daddy, now that’s an item. There’s no reason to fear that now. He’ll be at break tomorrow. The train station on Friday comin’ here. I’ll have to turn him in the grocery store, and toys, many presents, we let him have. He’s got a healin’ train a comin’, and it’s at the station now.
What an active young man. Who are you? The poet of the sunrise of humanity. Let’s move his truck, and he can express that, and I’m his keeper, and I’m his teacher there at dawn too. Please hear us. We’re the Milky Way. We’ve got good news, the colors in the rainbow, either in social media or every place you meet us on the street. That’s rock bottom vision. It goes like this: do you hear our pull? We’re a look out for human beings. Can I wash off the dog? Get it right with human beings.
Nithish is with his parents. Don’t say anything now. One for… (vision of Nithish sitting at a computer and his mother and auntie are standing behind him, Sandiya taking a photo of him with a flat, silver, square camera, telling him to pose, and I realize they are taking a photo record of him to compete with mine, making a sudden concentrated effort to do that to rival the photos I post of him) It looks like a photo shoot, and they’ve got the video to prove it. And there he is. I had no idea. Nithish you’re asking me a question: where do you divide the partition? As long as you’re careful not to do that, tear me apart, we wouldn’t partition ourselves. Your parents are using you for propaganda. They’re taking pictures to rival me. I took spontaneous pictures of you. The difference is tearing me apart.
You’re open to they put you here they put you there, like they’re doin’ it for you, and you give them that warm smile, thinking you have their business. It’s not the same baby dog, and I wonder if you can even feel it, so lost you are in their approval and validation, so far you are away from me. I don’t like Bozos, Bozo the Clown. Put that on the street.
Grace school is himself. (vision of Grace his Beagle puppy standing in a table chair on her hind legs with her front paws on the table) He’s in his underwear. He’s big and small and little and mean. He won’t take no for an answer. He’s not dedicated to you, and something happened that changed his mind. You did not seem relief. You were not there for him. You didn’t come, and you were crazy with grief. You wanted to see him so badly it turned him away from you. He doesn’t respect you. He believes the brainwashing. He doesn’t know what’s up. He doesn’t care to find out. You want to know if he’s happy and doesn’t need you. He can’t find himself. He’s alone on the inside, and if you can’t see sadness in his eyes, you can feel it in his heart. He wants to see you and need is comin’.
He doesn’t understand what’s happened. He’s too little for that. He wants so see you help. He has not gained by loosing you. His life is something forcing. He’s a painted doll. You are his flower. He just wants to sit and be with you, but he doesn’t want to see this too loudly. He doesn’t want to be in the garbage can anymore with his parents. All that’s over. That he doesn’t renounce you that’s okay. They just keep him from you, and the phone call the other day they got by. You’re crazy and confused his mind was their answer.
And now you’ve declared you’re gonna die to see ‘im, hunger strike. I’m in trouble. This will all fall on me. Hear him now? Is he worried about you? They don’t want him to be but yes. He doesn’t want you to die. Will he do anything to stop it? He would try.
Now all this bad news, that makes you feel so bad, is gonna change. When you see him again you’ll know you’re there, and he will remember past lives, and he’ll want it there. He’ll reveal secrets. He will be with you in every heartbeat, and this will open that boy’s mind to convince his parent’s of his need to see you. This is incredible news and will change the story. He will be yours again, and they will have to contend with that.
Is there a public on the way? It happened. The public got wind of this, and you’re showin’ it to them now. You’re in the Pondy poems, and this one’s the big one for their being’s worth.
He has my note. He has my seven. We need him to see you, and that’s soon. He doesn’t know which way is up. And you’re gonna show him Heaven’s door. (vision of Nithish sitting on the curb of a street and looking up at me with such open love) He’s the taste in your room. You’re his special surprise. He knows you’re comin’. Will you listen to me? This was our world, the great and hidden pain of death. And you’ve got me on time, before I forgot you. There I’ll see you on Friday. You make the test model fight too. It’s prevision, and it will become active soon.
Oh there were his plug pluses down there. There were him. “The samadhi of the Gods is in my heart water drops.” He will felt good listenin’. Have you watched your video yet? I’m not lookin’ to do that. What’s wrong with you? No contact with me, that and I want you to leave me alone. Two notes from the ranger. You are being awfully bad. We have to waste time here and I show it to you. Here, and will you come when they ask? I would go in a heartbeat. But you won’t watch the video? I’m scared to feel the pain. I don’t want to remember you. I don’t want to cry. Alright little boy, you aren’t the greatest little boy in the world, but I will see you soon.
I might’ve slipped on the internet This is no problem for me. It’s how I entered the internet. What do we got comin’? Poetry in your yard. Can I cross your brow with it? This is a think page. Go back to puppies and bullshit, if you want your hands in your underwear. The internet is for porn, in a nuclear holocaust.
What do I got for yah today? I don’t wanna write this down. A little girl was killed in Pondicherry, raped and murdered. I didn’t hear the news. Nithish told me on the way to school. Whatever happened, this girl suffered. Oh my God the reality these days. You should’ve seen caveman days, and all along humanity this has happened to children. It’s not special today. It’s just horrible.
I’m sorry little girl. She was nine-years-old. Nithish told me about Hindi kidnappers in Tamil Nadu. There were 300 of ‘em, it said on the news. Again, it’s Nithish’s report. I don’t speak Tamil, especially on the 6 o’clock news.
Goddamn this girl got killed, and do you know what? She was in her neighbor’s house for two days before it happened. She tried to escaped and they killed ‘er. What was normal procedure? You search the goddamn neighborhood, especially across the street. A strange old man livin’ alone? Hey man, can we check your house? That didn’t happen. Everybody was lookin’ for Hindi kidnappers, far away from the house, taking her organs and selling them. It was a mass hysteria, and it cost the city a lot. They would’ve found that girl, if they followed procedure.
I don’t think no one’s listenin’ to me. There was a day long strike all over Pondicherry before they found the girl. Where is she? Not far from the Hand, not far from God’s grace and lovingkindness. She can’t come back to us. No way, she’s dead.
Man is a trapped being; I can make that armstrong strong; what do you want to die next? said the demon to the little girl. Cause she’s a baby, can we carry this baby? Can we get around this baby? It wasn’t her fault. Hell opened up on that child and ate her.
We are left stunned. The pain, the fear, the little child suffered is unimaginable. I can understand the anger all over town, but it’s misplaced. She’s here to tell us something we can’t see: we can never blame ourselves for the wrong done by another; we aren't able to.
It’s exemplified in her, the abuse of children in Pondicherry. Slapped, kicked around, put in school, you don’t know the half of it. They’re made to bleed there, produce paltry items, the unnecessary, the boring, the out of wack, and they’re hit there. They’re made to go day after day to an excuse for school. Exams punish them. Their day is wasted in mean environments. Of course they bully each other. That’s what they’re learning there.
Can we take them home? Home’s a little harder, where the environment spills out. My God kids are beaten, made to serve their parents, told they are alive for their parents, controlled to the nth degree, lied to, spit on, and treated like they don’t count much. Is this your typical home in Pondicherry? It happens enough to produce this girl and her ordeal. Do you know the will available to abuse her from the collective conscious of Pondicherry? Set it right.
These are tell-tale signs that give us some indication what’s goin’ on in the collective. The symbol reproduces it in exaggerated form. It was not done by God it was done by devils, the demons attached to the men that did it and the horde of demons that came to feed. They’re all over Pondicherry. You don’t know their station here all over the world. They’re in your homes and families. They are the evil behind the act. We can only see the act.
Will you bear with me as I show you the blame game? I don’t know the timeline, but this girl didn’t die right away. She spent a couple of days in a house very close to her home. Nobody was lookin’ there with the focus of their concentration. Maybe she’d be alive if they did. A news report had broadcast some days earlier Hindi kidnappers were afoot kidnappin’ children in Pondicherry. That took the news and stupidly took the police station. Tamils don’t like out of state. They don’t want Hindi people here. So the search begin focusing on the mass hysteria of these organ sellers?
A video had circulated, of course, a Hindi kidnapper confessing all and tellin’ of the network in Pondicherry. That was the focus of the search, not for the little girl. I don’t know if they combed the neighborhood, knocked on doors, but that old man’s house was nearby, and he lived alone suspicious. What kept him from being searched? She was alive and there when they found her missin’, being raped repeatedly, while they looked elsewhere, and she wasn’t just murdered; she was killed with Hell’s hands.
Where are the Hindi kidnappers now? They are two Tamils in police hands, neighbors nearby. They young man had raped her before, and the old man ordered him to kidnap her and bring her to him, by threatening him with police would you believe? It all happened so fast. She was nabbed playing outside near her house. We have ganja to blame, new reports say. They were pot smokers, and it corrupted their Tamil. Tamils wouldn’t do this otherwise. Do you see the logic? Ban grass! and people are demonstratin’ in town. It’s already illegal.
What’s goin’ on? A culture is blind to itself, every culture on Earth. can we get ourselves to see? What do you do with your children, the first thing you should ask. Are you a teacher? You’re complacent just being one, but are you happy there? Do you really get mad at children? Do they see you smile throughout the day? Do they know your lovingkindness? It’s too much for you isn’t it, the system. You take it out on the kids. Would you get yourself to see that?
Now parents, do you shine on your children all the love and attention they need? It’s backbreakin’ work idn’t it, takin’ care of a home. Kids throw wrenches in the system don’t they, mess things up, won’t leave things alone. What do you do with them? I’m not askin’ if you love them or not. Do you speak harshly to them? Do you hit them? Do you rag on them all the time? They don’t measure up do they? No kids does in his parents’ room.
Pondicherry I’m sorry this is you. You’re hateful to your children, not every minute, not in every home, but it’s there strong enough to get this girl killed. You share responsibility Pondicherry with these two men, and I’ve written this poem so you can see that.
Do you know what a kidnapper is? Hold in the atmosphere the abuse of children where they are kidnapped. That’s the formula for TV. That’s the formula for Tamil Nadu. That’s the formula for Pondicherry. If you don’t see this more murders will come, more kidnappings. You’ll need to break ship to get it to stop. You’ll have to come from oneness base. That’s not typical. That’s not ordinary. That’s not the way we do things. It’s time we start.
All this talk of Hindu today, Hindu this, Hindu that, riled over cows, marriage conversions, temples in the air. I think Hindu gave the world oneness, didn’t it? It’s its underlying philosophy. On this Hindu stands. Where do you see it today in Hindu society? Is it ever-present? It’s not Hindu it’s oneness Hindu’s about. That is the temple we yard. That’s what brought it into being.
Hindu is alive on oneness. Without it it’s dead. Can you show me where India is alive today? Is Hindu alive today? Let’s do Hindu. Let’s do oneness.
I’m just anxious to ICU, and did you know that Hindu does that, brings us all to church? No, we need to get past temples and the religious offerings. We need to see oneness as the everyday of our lives. In practical hands it works, when you see the underlying of it all. Here I’ve shown you. I’m sorry Muslims don’t do this, or Christians, and Buddhists don’t believe it’s there. It’s the oneness of everything, the vibrant conscious oneness. It’s what Hindu has given to the world. It’s the truth of things. It’s why I’m here, and I’m here a long way from you. Will you join me in oneness?
Is this area to become worldwide useful? And oneness it is. We become practical that way. If we become oneness it is. We have to find the way there. I did, after bein’ horrible to children. It made me do it. I was open to God. I’m sleepin’ with one now, holding him safe, writing you this poem. I’ve taken care of him all night, his little heart, making sure he knows I’m here. He’s on me now, his little face on my chest. He’s seven now. He was born in my room. That means he was born from my house. His mother’s pregnancy was there. I’m a parental figure.
He trusts me. I have the key to his pants, but I don’t get into them with desire hands. He’s Nithish’s little brother. Nithish is in his room sleeping. I know how to take care of children, after so much trial and error. They really like my house. They are so welcome there, and I know how to do it, take care of a kid, just enough hands off to leave them alone, just enough hands on to give them what they need. This is fun for me. Did I hear you call me pedophile? I do love children, so much I can be in their presence all day, and I love it there. You need people like me. I make mistakes with my anger sometimes, yell and scream, and quickly apologize. They rule.
My ego gets bashed a lot, but you concede to a kid. You treat them well. They need to be the center of attention. The house revolves around them, in any God-given house, naturally. I teamwork this with Douglas, and he’s good with kids, funny as all get out, and we keep them kids safe and well taken care of. We are sweet to them. Everybody watches us do it here on the farm, smiles and warm faces, and we’ve been along together for years. Now I’m takin’ it to the next level, the public eye.
I want you to see oneness in operation. I’m one with you, one with these kids, and I want the world to see that it can be done, correct your problems with kids and move on. This is what I’m doin’ now, shakin’ Pondicherry by the leg, and sayin’ hey wake up, you need to change your way with kids. Is that too much to ask? It’s what we must ask. It starts with kids, our humanity, and the world unfolds in their hands how our hands have treated them. It’s not a nice world today is it?
Be nice to kids and it will be soon. If one generation, all around the world, could get it together with kids, and heal themselves of the abuse of them, the world would change automatically, dramatically be a better world. Is there too many of us to try? We can get it down in Pondicherry. We can take one city and show the ropes. We can make it our mandate, plan, not with the policeman’s stick, the angry shout, the tabloid news. It would have to be on oneness base. It would have to be holistically done. Hey, I’ve got a problem; can you give me the space to heal?
The healing would be immense. We would record how. It’s on God’s base, a dynamic healing plan right inside you. You’re hearin’ it speak now, an immune system we don’t know about. It heals us. Punishment, hatred, doesn’t.
What am I sayin’? Pondy grab your files and heal from what makes you abuse kids. I’ve shown a way, if you’re relaxed enough, if you can do it non-judgmentally and not even condemn yourself. It’s a love angle. It’s where we’re happenin’. Healin’s what we gotta do. Can we get started Pondicherry? Let’s see you put this on the news.
Harm's End 