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.
A star is born between us. He never did intended to become Puget Sound. All about its eternity: let me be the souls you can stand on. [above line heard sung] Believe it, huh, go back to Hollywood, where we find poetry today, where conscious entertainment walks with her fascist in pearls. When she gets to the Lake, when she gets to their alone in the dark, fascist quivers.
God grows in the hours, takes His first steps in the wherewithal of man, in the audacity of man, in the growing of man. We’re here. This is our livelihood. This is our pain. We kiss each other with this. We kill each other with its denial. We play together God-children.
I cannot fathom this. I look at it and stars, but there’s no name that I can put on. No concept carries this. It billows out a jutting of nature, seemingly meaningless. Where is righteousness in That? And godhead? The forms of things are too much for me, billowing God.
My God I think I will lose the world just sitting on a park bench. It’s embarrassingly strange. I can’t feel this with godhead fingers. I only see the road ahead in headlights of my be. Frozen fingers point to frozen books that spell this out to me, and I’ve been there, where God sits billowing Earth. I cannot contain that now. I don’t even know where it is in all this hullabaloo.
I am beside myself with this seeing, and I can’t take the world. It is all too deep and meaningful. What gave rise to forms at all, that He should inhabit them? Weird has me by the hand, and I love it there. The One who inhabits forms has bequeathed the world to me. I am a passion of its movement.
This marriage of life with form brings out the good in me. I can access myself, ponderin’ realities. I am here I told you, inside myself, a multiple see. Can I scrub my room? I can sure get down on myself. What do I have special that’s given me form? How indigenous to the moment I can feel foreign to myself, and I see aliens in spaceships where people pass me by. So alien world this, a feature of the Void. It rocks.
I’ve about had it with this. It’s too much to see. It overwhelms me. I infinity stare, and the forms of things are will-o-wisps around me, like existence cannot last in countless time. Will it all never be?
I want to look at it from there: I know I’m the One. I’d like to sit in a thoughtless temple and feel absorption unto myself. Do you know that ride? I spin it on my head, so close to realization’s axis I can just realize it’s there. I can’t climb into the module.
This is dynamite, and I’m happy to have it for a little while. Can you shoulder my room? I don’t think you’d lift there. It would scare the daylights outta yah. It’s ungrounded you see, in infinity’s swirl. You can’t touch the side and bottom, but the Top is smilin’ down at yah. The larger You is looking in on you, where you meet waves. You’re naked in front of Him, and this is good business cause you get soothed.
And that’s a ring around the wherewithal of That. It holds your hand, and you can see it better unhinged. The wisdom of insecurity Watts said. He had no idea. I’m a public project. Come up here, and we can manage some how we find hope. I’m a clear regard. You can see eternity from here.
But I’m about my room where I gather field. I do stuff. I get things done, cook and model people, deliver them to sum. I can see the problem: starward, we don’t gather ourselves there, or neglect this great big motion field play, like it’s normally down. If you do that those have been cleaned: a stranger looks at time’s eyes. You will last the night. You will hunger some for realization’s pinnacle, but you will certain see.
A joining: hey look at this picture with my other one, internal let it go from here: daddy! daddy! Kid’ll give you a pin down of where things go. Realization’s coils the delivery room. You’re okay there. Okay you’re up. This is a violet test: come warm infinity through halls of room. We will give you another mile.
Vision of matter materially investigated, I guess that first step. But isn’t she gorgeous? That guy is free, free for both of us, because May after we have to do another one, where we inhabit this planet Him. We will live in freedom pronounced by God. Join me there on your eraser, and erase all lines but God. What do you see? Perfect freedom.
Euthanasia of the Spirit you entertain anything else but God. That was a bad night switch, to lose this from our origins, but we’re back there at bright staples today. Any way you look at it 12 noon.
I’m so sorry for this point. I just wanna rub my face off. I’m a graveyard of the best intentions. I feel so inadequate to time’s doings. I can’t even communicate with you, where people are heard these days. Nobody can find my stuff on Twitter. It got shadowbanned. I don’t know how WordPress is gonna treat the length of these poems. YouTube knocks down videos, and even though I’m there I’m not.
Do you every have the certain futility to look, I mean at the sky and everything? It just mows yah down, the big of everything. I’m here I said, and yeah that’s little. I can fit into a little cup of everybody’s been here. That blasts, you know?
And here’s where I’m hooked. I can see the bigness, and I know I’m its business. How do I lavish to you the plan to be where poetry finds you today? Can I say the arc of poetry all along this poem? I want to speak need, not measure, where we find each other today in the lifting of our room. Come to me I’m poetry, is that where I find you? Shadowbanned in Carnegie Hall, this is the price is right to write poetry.
I’ll go the rhythm. You know I’m 10 feet tall. In this culture the number one is never far from shoot. You hold steps right about now to that escapade. Oh boy Rainbow Nagar, he can express His eyes when he speaks, but he put a poem out that grabbed them in the poetry, Muse India.
And I’m an indicator of where we find poetry today in India. That is not on our streets. It’s not even in our cars. It’s just billowin’ in the wind unread and unheard. Hear me people? Oh I can’t stand this new poetry. It juts out like a wad of nature and surprises yah in your sleep, all this regard, and that, and all eyes on God. Can we land poetry today? It’s got me by the book. And I’m reading you time said.
To the naturalist meeting in New York,
and that’s a wonderful paper.
Find divisions among us,
I think that’s everybody’s see the world.
You’re not gunna believe this,
but I’m the right wingman
to have us all see each other one.
Who else do you hate more?
Who’s at the bottom of the totem pole?
Who would you subhuman all the time?
Who do you crave to be with?
Certainly not the pedophile.
You are just so into guns
where you meet the world.
You just see and shoot
the aggravations gun.
How am I doin’?
You have a perfect score.
You did everybody in
that got under your skin somehow.
You just shot everybody with your mind.
Now we come apart.
You can’t take shooting sprees.
What happened?
Everybody shot the Lone Ranger.
This is just hippie bullshit.
You just put everybody in peril
when you came across with your gun.
You created division among us
that destroy people.
It’s all in the gun.
That mind is a pointed object
that shoots fire at people.
You don’t believe this.
It’s harmless you say,
making people suffer in your mind.
Does Earth manifest thoughts?
I can’t put this on the chalkboard,
but I can show it to you loud and clear.
Why did World War Two start?
The German people manifested pride,
the Japanese their rising sun.
Now take individuals and shoot them.
This is an execution in town square.
My God the executions there,
and the atom bomb goes off.
Can you make the connection from your room to there?
It’s a lively possibility
add up enough guns.
You see what I’m gettin’ at don’t yah?
We will just blow each other apart
every minute of the day,
and you see the emergency come in,
a check on our behavior
in the throw of our room,
where we meet the world in thought.
We meet them with philosophy
and let religion control our thoughts.
We go so far as to put something else,
something our conscience says no.
Innate in us
is a thought control,
a natural inclination
to be good to people
where mind meets them.
How strong is this?
Oh my God it’s breaking down.
Can you see this?
It’s everywhere.
We need to see this to survive.
You don’t know the power of thought.
You think it’s inside your mind
shut up in your head.
This is erroneous thinking.
We live in a thought field
you and I,
and it’s so immediate there.
We cringe one another.
Can we stop doing that?
It manifests on the field.
We find our hands expressing it in time,
our feet kick up that dirt.
We show the world with it.
We live in a thought field.
It has each one of us at heart.
We prey on one another,
just eat each other alive,
violate one another like there are no boundaries.
You know what I’m talking about.
You do it too,
and my God it’s real.
It’s spins the weapons in that direction
so someone else can use.
It gets the ball going.
It’s everywhere.
Oh no my childhood,
it’s full of holes.
Even my father did that,
once or twice.
Shut the hell up.
How deep this rabbit hole goes.
You don’t want to see it.
Can we come up for air?
Can we stop violating one another
in our thoughts.
It is so control the world that way,
and we don’t know how to control ourselves.
It’s an imagine gun,
and it takes ahold of our flesh and rides it,
so feeling toned, rich hued,
bottomless desire.
It has us by the horns
in those moments.
We bleed with it.
You know I’m drivin’ a point home,
sticky desire.
We come to terms with ourselves that way,
comin’ to terms with it,
seeing it shake us,
watching it win.
Just keep goin’.
Learn to put this out of your mind.
It violates people.
It’s got so much charge on it.
Can we come away from there?
Now you’re alone in your sink.
Your thoughts on other people are confused,
but you’ve stopped
the mind game.
You don’t shoot people anymore.
You just keep goin’.
You’ll come out on the other side soon.
You hear my thoughts?
I’m showin’ ‘em to you.
There’s a higher realm of thought.
I don’t live there all the time,
but you know I mostly do.
Only rarely do I go abroad,
and soon that will stop too.
I am a thinker,
and I spend time in wordless thought.
I go into the quiet in my room.
Great gyros of thinking await us
that will propel us to sky noon.
The layers of reality we peel back
and dimly see the One.
God is our living room.
We see world process in stark living terms.
We glimpse invisible beings at play.
We see the terrible and inane.
We have a glory of angels around our head.
We see the stars.
I think we join the universe.
We have some brooding sense
of who we are on high looking down on us,
feel its comfort wings,
know our lives its shallow dip in time.
Profundities rise
and take us by the hand.
We see all
like it’s a picture show,
and sometimes
the world is so thin,
ultimate reality’s a bare whisper away.
You see what I’m seein’?
You can’t get that look
unless you turn your mind from these surface arguments,
from the world of material things,
from being hooked all the time
on this, that, and the other.
Think large thoughts.
I’ve motioned poetry
to help us with our rooms,
to put us on the right bed,
to clear our thoughts
of all this imagining
that isn’t good to people,
to learn how to handle time.
Are you game?
I’m showin’ yah the way
to enter in relations with one another
that bring us the world together
that brings peace on earth.
Crazy doctor,
he’s always runnin’
a poetry see,
a show you this, show you that.
Will you take him in one day?
I got deleted
from my YouTube channel.
They took a video away.
Officer down!
It fought Islamic State
right in its ideology
in its gruesome videos.
It put the soul there
and the true ways of God.
It shot the soul down,
that censorship.
You wonder why they waited seven years.
Now what’s next,
my whole blog?
The deletion has begun,
and you don’t even know it’s happenin’.
You see the peril I’m in.
It’s available now;
I’ll stack you with
poems to read.
You think they’ll be up much longer?
The diversity is what is placed in that pile of focus.
I think we go to school,
learn to look in all things God.
What is the divine nature and where can it be found?
It’s your thoughts found the world you’re in,
and you go from there.
The above air in the lines’ all that matters,
but anyway,
movin’ all that mass.
What was wrong?
Your mind is a stronghold.
It caters to its own kind.
You can’t get at it easily
with your conscious mind,
the way a neighbor thinks.
We suspect each other.
But double down,
in your underwear,
open closed doors,
and you can catch your neighbor’s thoughts about you
and where they’re at in life.
Test this link.
The inner television
is kinda a body temperature,
and I’ll figure it now
one word:
peace.
You really want that to happen.
Did he trouble you?
Mustn’t give him
some blacklist.
I wouldn’t back down.
Be a light unto him,
and you are on the case man.
You hear them all the time.
You hear the community thought
with the bodies of your mind,
and no conscious person see it happen.
This is screened, subliminal.
You take them from the field your thought,
as you are fooled:
they’re your thoughts.
They come in your mind like you.
How do I know this?
I study mine,
and I’ve opened those closed doors,
and I study all the time.
Go Big Brother.
A few moments time,
there you go,
I’m off the net,
and you never even knew I was there.
It’s everybody, not just you seein’ this kid, art, representational. Photo by Donny
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.
Harm's End 