The New Giants

Luna in the woods, photo by the author
Grab a nice haircut
these rolling pins.
They know how to handle the vital in certain situations,
the ones where they meet the real world.
Do you call them cough suppressants?
It’s not about denial anything.
They lift up the world.
They love it into being.
Did you know creation is starlight?
They are on the forefront of that.
They don’t waste time.
Even sleep they use to their advantage.
They are not kingpins.
They have a guru master
guides them every day
where their inner being meets the world.
It’s inner contact crisp and clean.
It’s the inner consciousness guide,
and they soul with the world.

How big are their thoughts?
They carry Earth.
This is every day.
Civilization,
well they feel inside,
like they have evolved with man
through every Kris Kringle,
amazed we no longer live in caves
and now live in modernity.
They are the house of humankind.
They’re on the whereabouts of man.
They hold man tight,
are all over its feeling
joining God there.
They intercede for man
in the harshness of his journey.
This is wide open fire,
and they can identify with the rule and the snake,
wanting what’s best for the peoples of the Earth,
wanting freedom to be and to choose
the greatness of each individual.
They’re seeing what they need to do to change
and be the staircase of man,
the help in his endeavor
to have compassion for all
and bully no one.

This is their strange keeper,
these heroes of the thought of man.
They reach out for the growth of everybody,
even those we despise
and call evil.
This is their special operation,
but they can confront evil in the world
and make no bones about it.
They can see behind the scenes
and reveal evil in its place.
You will not find them safe here.
They expose evil.
Alright I’ll send it to yah.
You are very selfish.
I don’t know it’s been fusing.
Leave this to yourself;
get married and have kids;
do not stand up for
these divine fools;
throw them in the clink
with your fumbles with love.

I don’t know it has any power,
the system we wear in shoes
to put the name of the Lord on.
This world here will eat you alive,
but I’m game.
I give God my all.
I don’t throw him in the dirt.
Come on,
get goin’.
I’ve heard some living out here?
We go to school.
Do you call your name Mrs. Kravitz?
He put no.
Well I am about your bed.
I’m at the end of your feet.
I test the ground of your heart.
We’ll give it to yah,
a safe haven.
It goes through the community;
it goes through the communication
in honor to meet the jump rope.

I’ve really crafted it the way it is
says the community ring.
All the raccoons are pretty.
Please stay in the car
Luna.
She just had a…
There’s something over there.
There’s something else.
She knows that you’re protecting her.
Luna in this exploratory relationship
do business
as members of the community.
Can you come over here?
You’re a mountain clan.
Will you please deal our dog right?
She never leaves our side.
No fenced in in the backyard for her.
No putting her on some chain.
She is our honey child.
Let her walk among you.
She’s walkin’ to her next life human,
and you can you grasp that with a dog?
Their soul rang out
you’ll move ahead
letting me be by my masters.
Do you see the relationship?
Good.

I’m just leavin’
for my own house in the woods.
Participate
in your wholesome community.
Alright I will not roar
my own special status,
but will a poet be admitted?
And in his verse is a new society
for a better world.
Can I be a poet among you
challenging the way we do things?
This gets me in trouble,
why I’m here.
Douglas and I are searching goals here.
We’re looking for a better land.
That okay?

Days of unity,
all this is a unity project,
and we’re not just separate neighbors,
nor alone isolated individuals
in a world.
We are everything,
and everything is us.
We are part of oneness’ clan.
We cultivate that help.
We live that example
a sacrifice doin’ it,
not a free-for-all,
not a give everything away,
a balanced, measured diet of oneness
that knows our strengths and weaknesses
and our own importance to the group.
We are learning oneness as we go along,
and great that field play.

Fifteen seconds ago
forces of power moved us from our home,
the power that destroys lives.
I was writing poetry on the beach.
It angered the local kingpins.
They threw away the Constitution and got rid of me.
We fled in haste.
We are refugees.
Can you put that into your hat and smoke it?
Can you consider us with kid gloves?
Thank you kindly.
It is our effort to be kind too.
We’re in the woods,
the place we wanna be,
the place we feel asked for us,
if you can see correspondence in roadways.
This is exciting for us.
This is wonderful.
This is joy in the Lord.
Everpresent,
he is our refuge.
He is our one at hand.

We’re forgetting
how huge he is with you too.
It’s just isolated stupidities
in the greatness of the Lord.
We bask in him
and turn our trucks towards him.
Hallelujah you do too,
and we are thankful for that.
God is great.
God is wonderful.
God is our sudden being
in the fullness of time,
and all of you,
yes we see your indwelling divinity.
We see the One that you are.
We see mystery behind your eyes
that gathers all existence unto itself.
Sometimes we have to pinch ourselves to find it,
but we endeavor never to slap you forgetting it.

How does a poet ride evil then?
How does a poet point out a needed change
and not neglect his power,
her force?
With no hate,
and the whole poem will tell you what it’s about.
I’ve been here,
to the Lord’s altar,
and I heard what to say,
and meditate
on what I have written.
It doesn’t go lightly my Lord.
Have a good night.
Have a beautiful day.
Have a glorious day.

We go out.
We go down.
These weapons in our hands,
this is why
we last well with each other
if our weapons are not hurting other people.
Om to find One,
I slept in Om.
I did not just shoot somebody
with no regard to their safety.
I challenged them
to put goodness on their pathways,
to champion the thought of love,
to broker peace between us.

Can you get that right?
Not everybody will be pleased.
Some will say you’re wrong.
How do we change then,
if it’s not put before us?
What is nonviolence in speaking?
Sometimes you have to will to change.
Sometimes you have to go the distance
to give someone a mirror to look at
to honor
the gateway to peace.
Is that size up?
It’s not puttin’ anyone down
in mean speech.
It’s not striking out in anger
or blind reaction.
It wants someone to see themselves
and make change.
With some it is impossible,
but you follow the Spirit’s lead.

I’m here, I’m here
to help you remember
you have these tigers,
and you know you never change.
The impossible seem the odds.
Then the Lord comes to you a gifted angel,
holds your hand,
looks into your eyes.
The startling he is there
will wake up the most slumbering sleeper,
will knock your fucking socks off,
will make you cry in submission
to the mercy he offers you.
I am that man;
I am that woman,
complete now in the genders I wear,
hallelujah,
and uh,
birth control,
no bad comes from my hands no more.
Both dammit
sacrifice for the good of all.

How else can you describe killing a part of yourself
that was as natural to you as rain?
Herein lies the crux of the matter:
in every single part of ourselves,
in every single fiber,
speaking of the human being in all its parts,
mountains can go wrong.
You can be defeated by yourself,
murdered by your own breezeway,
killed by your cells.
Pity we have
for bodily and mental challenges.
We have none for the heart
when it goes awry.
We have none for the hands
that obey an errant heart.
We punish those people,
get rid of them,
but we fail here.

Love thy neighbor no exceptions,
and a cancer patient,
someone with down syndrome,
has the wheels of a disease
that also someone lost in behaviors we abhor
has in the house of their being.
Freewill’s at stake,
and it’s the issue here,
but not confronted with this disease
how can you hate and judge my friend?
Animal ways breed animal man,
and when you kill someone for doing wrong
or slice them with punishment’s scalpel,
you’ve carried out the wrong they’ve done.
By the witness of the crowd
and with its consent
we bury humanity here.
We tear asunder our house.
Separate the people you need to separate
if their behavior’s eminent,
but treat them as lost children,
not monsters and vile things.

Dr. George Washington Carver
was a miracle among you.
The Earth spoke to him softly
of healing need,
but he was a negro,
when that word was in fashion,
when Jim Crow ruled his land,
when he was hated and looked down upon
for being black.
What a choice God chose for this man.
He lived up to his day.
He stood tall and strong.
He heard the plants speak,
the clay and flowers around him.
He heard the inner voice,
saw visions of these things,
and we prized him for it.
Some had prejudice to overcome,
the strongest of their day.
Pardon me ma’am.
Pardon me sir.
I am of this vehicle made.
You are hearin’ my voices speak
in a miracle of love.

I am the thought of this day
to bring healing and remedy
in our moral world,
in the disease that afflicts the heart and hands.
Are you prejudice and blind?
It’s the same today
as it was yesterday
in how we perceive our fellow man.
We hate him for being this thing on earth
he didn’t choose.
The Earth made him that way,
the elements of man.
Now I bring great healing
upon the Earth
for those with eyes that see.
Inner voice led me to it
and the vision of God.
I walk with Mr. Creator like Dr. Carver,
my walk just as deep in intensity.
I differ in skin color and mode of religion,
and I work with different elements.
I am here for the morality of man.
Is that too terrible today?
Is that wrong?
Is that okay?

They’re at Conservative National Forest,
and it’s real lively here,
in a time capsule.
People go about their business here
in their own brand of music.
If Saint Francis of Assisi is their patron saint,
they abhor animals in their court,
and they’re holding court with the Timeless,
not allowing him inside.
This is grand design.
It’s rigid here and far flung,
but leeway is making a living.
Let the flowers speak!
I haven’t heard this yet,
and they’re borrowing on marked time.
Conscious group process
is a recovery.
It’s not on those lines yet,
but I do think they see it.
I just don’t know if they’ll let it in.

Our first name was Alex.
Their stories fit in line,
oh my beautiful sisters from Columbia.
This went on.
You said it so.
Judith introduced us to community.
Strong lady.
I brought her back
to her impersonal witness,
and these are healing powers she has.
AJ,
who chops wood here and keeps the fire,
phony especially
he doesn’t bother to imitate.
He’s a lot more younger
than his 77 years.
Can we count on him?
Like you can the blue ocean,
and you need fish,
but time of course is our regard.
Where have I gone with these people?
See the example of love that they give
right off the bat.
The basis of love has changed
I think in the wider community.
Continue.
I’ll get if for you
with even the nobodies and me’s,
with every single community member.
Now there’s your introduction to love.
They teeter there,
and it happens to snow.
A peaceful community lines these shores.

Tell ‘em we’re ready pop the firecrackers.
Old standard apply,
I’m tryin’ to show you truth.
You blew it.
All the way here:
I don’t know the lows can I shoot you
Florida ask our tailgate,
conservative Floridians.
I’m a writer of verse.
When we arrived in your community,
we relied on chance to save us.
You were too green for this,
and I went right into a political meeting
about our predicament:
opposing Trump—
the very first day I arrived.
What a sight for sore eyes.
No, no, you can’t talk here;
we have an agenda.
And we’d just escaped Florida by the skin of our teeth.
I guess Siva
did not
give a damn,
and we’re open to more proposals.

I’m hopin’
we don’t have to go through indoctrination
to sit at the ashram and volunteer.
Leaking out of this box
glad to be uncomfortable
with somethin’
that calls itself the same name
but has a different teacher.
Can I even say I’m a disciple of Sri Aurobindo?
Thirty years.
I’m not a wasted duck.
Now see my mantra
within your mind shy Ram beyond be said
and see I’m doin’ sadhana.
Can I go to your church?
Alright this is satsang.
People been holdin’ their stories behind this.
Losin’ all your glory,
there you go,
I think now we can sing.

So I’ve landed.
So I’ve come here from a long ways.
Do you know how to dance lower than you are?
This is my piece of cake here.
I just want them to know I love,
and I’m a handy man around the house.
Poetry’s a stick in the mud.
It’s not their wax paper.
It’s not their hole in the ground either.
I think those things are old peoples’ photos,
who grafted this community
from a peace on earth vigil.
Poetry is of the Spirit.
Ya’ll have fun
I was reluctant to say.
Five thousand and something,
I’ve reached a breakthrough there
in poetry.
I’m not the only one.
Thanks and cough syrup,
you’re hollerin’ in community.
Just keep the garbage squared away and you’ll be fine,
and probably don’t eat the squirrels.
Poetry will buttonhole later.
Who wants to eat?
I guess I’ll be their good cook,
but I don’t sprout my beans first.
Oh well.

Okay the finals is not typicals of the
the community here,
world community.
How do we change ourselves into an image of the indwelling Lord?
How do we be our soul on the surface of ourselves?
How do we become spiritually enlightened?
Do we know the difference
between being enlightened
and being up on ourselves?
What is the soul change,
and where is our divinity?
Is that the indwelling soul,
or the secret, hidden God overhead
the soul leads us to?
Where do we find God
as these hapless creatures on earth,
the God of the whole
that can bring us to our summit selves
and cherish our lives with us
as we are now
and be that constant companion


that we look to always?
Where is he our Lord,
and what about a mother’s might,
this sweetness and safety of her breasts,
and we are little ones there,
really, really comfortable
with she is our whole world?
Do you hear me Stephen?
Do you hear me world?

I’m game are you?
I’m sittin’ on the sofa
right here in God.
A change of nature I have made,
not enlightened,
and I am not yet my divinity,
but the soul has power
to express itself in verse
alive in God.
Even if it’s just to the woods
my voices ring,
I’ve found the Earth here,
and I treasure it in my hands.
Oh my dear brother,
sweet sister,
will you?

Twisted Nerve

Photo by Rob Potter on Unsplash

by S. Nithish

I’m a soul warrior defeated.
I’m immortal but can’t heal,
shot by arrows of betrayal
on the top of the lonely mountain.
The wounds are deep and cold.
Wind burns my wounds
and waiting till the cold nights stop.

What do I do?
Do I build a house on top of the mountain,
or do I find a cave?
I hate myself feels like I’m the evil spirit.
The ocean is my tears.
The pain is my curse
breaking the wall of sanity and peeking through it.

I once heard that I’ll be the one giving the world peace.
I can’t even give peace to myself.
And that I’ll find eternal peace.
I’ll give freedom to the world.
I need someone to set me free,
and the voices that do whisper to me
is that there is peace in heaven
that’s not in store for me yet.

If I give up now I give up faith in God.
This life will be a burden.
I’ll have nothing to lose,
no strings, fall for eternity into the abyss.

Now I can see how evil people are forged,
and those evil people proved that their parents
won the game and have accepted the curse.

This moment I make a promise to myself
on 30/7/25, 7:30,
that I kneel down before no one,
and that this is my game, my controller.
I’ll make it clear as your eye,
and I write my own story in my own brand.

Nithish, a 13-year-old Tamil boy, wrote this poem. This blog has chronicled his plight for over a year now. He’s recently begun writing poems again. To view his previous work, what he wrote before his ordeal began, click on the Page Nithish’s Blog on the top of this post. The difference is writing about the coming night and being in that night.

I, or my muse rather, has written to him this response, and it’s being smuggled to him now:

And the word crashes with God.
What's the name of the monster?
It's not yourself.
Do the relationship as I do.
Don't banish God to the outer ocean.
God is bigger than your pen,
than your thoughts of him.
Alright baby,
look into yourself and say,
"I want to be the biggest truth I am.
I want to feel this truth inside me
startling my days.
No problem
this truth slips out of my hands.
I will pick it up again.
It is not darkness."

A Shoulder in Immensity

photo of the author by a camera salesman, image by the author
I wanted to die.
Everybody knows how to die.
Sufferin’ from panic disorder
my only friend.
I have no comfort in anyone,
and this woe is me will not say it properly.
I cannot believe
I have no worth to anyone.
I’m just a field of crap,
and I have seen God’s eyes,
feel the world’s pain like my own.

I sit in a height of thought
where almost no footing is.
I’ve taken you there
in our thought realms unawares.
The All-Negating Absolute has me by the throat,
and even God is buried in immensity.
I cannot discover God one last time
as who we need in immensity.

3:33,
28-years-old,
I can’t give God the proper numbers.
He is too right and wrong.
Mexican,
He took my pants off and raped me at seven.
It hurt too much to tell anybody.
I was cleaved.

Why am I telling you this?
Afraid to tell anybody,
I put back action
comin’ up in the rear.
Squealin’ inside me,
they crossed death too
a courier
of the same disease,
those little tummies.

I can’t give you molten lava
and expect you to cherish me.
I can’t even say my name.
I’m a brick in a wall
that you don’t identify with,
bricks in the same wall.

Up here,
I’m a way
to photography that wall,
to hold it out open to daylight.
I’m a measure of that peace,
but you can’t come to terms with me.
I’ve sinned to much for God cares,
or I remind you of sin.
I’m an enigma with an open door.
God the carnage at Troy,
sit back everybody
and tell me what hero came home.
The canonical field of Troy.

Do it again,
I stand before you now.
Will you hear me?
We swim in oceans of blood.
Don’t underestimate
life.
There’s a moment
before you
when you can give it to the challenge
it tasks a man with,
and he must stand alone in immensity
and be the voice no one wants to hear
turning every ear on
to a future in ideas
that will save us all
come that future,
whether I’m the voice that says them or not.

See me today
sittin' with you holdin’ your hand
likewise tell me
the world has turned its back to you too.
A pencil in agony,
it’s too early to tell,
and I’m a measure of that immensity.

So brothers and sisters,
I’d help you.
Those tummies are in good hands.
You cannot electrify them like that,
put them on lurch
little boys and little girls.

A needle in a haystack
give you a tap.
Raise Supermind,
I’d be one in the world.
Get ‘im a chair
to latch from our very disease
and bring us all to peace.

You know how it works:
no ignoring you
world enigma.
My OMs are here.
My front door’s open.
Enjoy a body of ideas.
Do it again,
I’m really intercepting your thought.

The Music

photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Have you ever seen the field of lyrics?
They’re divine emails
to singers, songwriters, and the sunlit path.
Yah hear ‘em?
They wouldn’t mail you to hell.
They come on wings of golden charm
in a literary ear,
all of them
that define music.
How easily they come
rollin’ in a song.
I’ve sideswiped a mirror.
This just doesn’t sound right.
Force, cram, there, stars.
Oh my the lyrics,
they need a water table.

I’m about your engines of change.
I defy the world.
You hear that rock 'n roll?
It just poured in.
Even love songs lit it.
And the 60s went on
until we could hear the sound no more.
It really rolled in then.
Lyrics told us what to do:
be kind to your brother;
watch the looking glass;
we don’t need no thought control. [heard sung, Pink Floyd, “Another Brick in the Wall”]
And bands played on.
They all got out of sorts.

The sound of music [heard sung, R.E.M., variation on lyrics “You Are the Everything”]
compensates for society’s hard ways.
You know what I’m talkin’ about.
Music glows.
I don’t know how to tell you to control it.
It’s your business when to turn it off,
but don’t you want that bare reality boy,
you and the world
face to face?
You’d use that too
to come together on yourself.
Bare bottom reality,
where we find ourselves in fight,
come on let’s get out of here
to the tune of music.
Use a song to fight?
Let’s listen to reality.
Billy don’t be a hero. [heard sung by Bo Donaldson, line names song]
Thanks for calling in,
but sometimes reality’s really fucked, you know?
and you’d die if you didn’t take up arms,
you and your whole family,
a Ukraine emergency.
You, see the difference?

I’m loud enough.
I just don’t know where to begin.
I’m on sleaze mode,
and I just ego the world away,
or I’ve lost my tune
in a bucket
of melodyless words.
I don’t bring you anywhere
the skylight gets ahold of yah.
I’m pretty and all,
sometimes,
but I’m awfully small with sharks.
Today’s music, right?
I ego the moon away.
Give it a Grammy
to correct the past.
I’m on it—
a racially motivated statement.

Got a guitar,
just give it your play
in the do’s of yourself.
Music will come rollin’ off your lips
when you trouble time with words
that bring the world together
on your knee,
and you’re rockin’ it to sleep
in its ballroom,
no matter how loud it gets,
no matter how tune.
Oh you open yourself
in the rhythm of your ear.
Hear that
the light of music. [heard sung by R.E.M., “You Are the Everything”]
It’s in your neighborhood.
It’s comin’ upon yah now.
Play that song.

If you want to sing out sing out. [heard sung by Cat Stevens, line name of song]
You hear music?
Do you know how to listen?
It’s a metaphor for change.
You’ve got to get down there and do it,
make it better,
your crumble with the world.
It means so much.
Now you’re listenin’
to another radio program
than the one you usually hear.
It’s got music in it.
It’s also got love.
It doesn’t neglect you.
It tells yah how to sing.
It’s a motion on a better world,
a better you,
a better me.
The music of rebellion,
I’m talkin’ to it.
I don’t think we’d leave out our own change,
would we, “Dream On”?
Unbelievable
the way that song rocks us,
so help us look at ourselves,
rollin’ and all.
There’s a distance.
He’s fishin’ me off.
He’s right.
We can’t get at music’s purpose.
I say change,
and I’m puttin’ words on starlight.
I mean heavy
a world has deepened in music.
It gathers us
way beyond the song.

This is experimental candy.
It’s got loads behind it.
It will refashion our world if we let it.
It will get bigger than time.
It’s in your inner ear.
Play it out.
Not so much what,
what in the world—
who dat?
It’s not the Devil son.
It’s glory.
I’m not gettin’ a chair or somethin’.
I’m gettin’ all this juice
to dance my religions/relations. [two words spoken simultaneously]
Teletransport investigations,
I think we’ve just spoken easy money.
Let me see your hand.
You would have no hair on the palm
if you want to be transported right
with another.
I mean it wouldn’t be about gettin’ laid
that brings you to world union.

Okay you’ve got my song,
and I give it to yah
for free.
Can we mix music and money?
A need to get rich can’t.
Jay,
I just want to say
you ease my music.
But would I let it lead the song?
It doesn’t sing,
a laboratory
substances faces only.
Unbelievable
where we need to see the world.
It’s in our holding hands.
Without it eclipsin’ the world—
it’s not at a pot party.
Hey, you know,
can we play that again,
a thing on
making rules?
We dance here.
It’s not how we make the world.
We come together on ourselves, you know?

World understanding dim.
I got your door.
It’s so sweet it’s in the air.
It will be music,
and then you sing,
you sing the song.
You remember me.
I was so 60s.
I brought you the right music
for social revolution,
to change the world
into the peace that will change the world,
into a love that will last longer than you feelin’ it,
into a brotherhood that goes beyond race and people-kind.
Let’s make this revolution happen.
Let’s go to town on music.

Open
to your brother.
To my brother?
We need peace
to make this music happen,
to get this show on the road.
If he’s got a different opinion than you he’s your friend.
If she’s disagrees with you you still let ‘er in.
You see my catfish?
You see the food bank?
You see where we all need to improve?
This is a weird pharmacy.
You actually give your brother your time,
give your sister a shoulder to lean on,
and they disagree with you what if?
Oh my puddin’ and pie,
don’t feel bad.
Don’t get all upset.
Give them the love on your corner
without bendin’ the rules:
keeping out of opinion debate
and trying to convert one another
to what you believe in.
Opinion circles
never give up.
You have to give in.
You have to,
no matter what,
no matter who you are.

Yes,
talking that’s not listening.
After all man,
we’ve got so much work to do
gettin’ our hearing to hear past TVs
and radio poles.
We need to hear music.
We got to right now.
It’s the light of the world,
so much paper
to put that in your vision,
so much time
for you to see.

Alright music industry,
crank it out.
Who we gonna work with,
the major groups and singers?
They’re hardly listenin’
to where music reaches us
a better generation,
the pop sound
that joins reality to love.
You
are so romantic
you love the world.
It can’t be faked.
I’m singin’ it everyday,
where I play the world,
this clavicle of house,
this Earth of mine.
I can get better at.
I can improve.
One final word:
make peace within meditation the meditation begins.
God it’s beautiful.

How’d you do in your family?
Come over here.
Look’s like burnt out.
They subset got on the phone.
It’s gonna last you again.
Your family is the arrangement,
those people in front of you,
whoever they are.
There’s your boss.
Oh history of change it’s here.
Music will tell yah.
Listen.

Let’s get out of town square.
Falls
the world in,
and we’re go back to music.
Thought of giving it all away
to a registered charity,
if I ever get outta here. [three lines heard sung by Paul McCartney and Wings, “Band on the Run”]
Come on Paul let’s go.
We’ve got music to attend to.