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.
Behind the Biblical, wow, is that real? Challenges, let’s not escape from that. Never get to say it: the worth in the characters in the Bible are real. They had time on earth. How do we listen to them? Not through their own venue. We’re encountering the past. It has weight today, relevance, but it’s not our lives today. Humanity hadn’t reached that far, to understand more in life than the tall tale, and fairy tales still ruled the day.
We believed them. They made us mad. They got our goat. They made us worship the sun and put deities in trees. We abided by them, thinking the world a magical place, air tight, and no laws apply. The moon could stand in your living room, and decapitated heads could talk.
We listen to them today out walk our sun, conspiracy daylight. A bunch of Democrats extract from children and child sacrifice some blood elixir, and this is their insulin for the day? And do pedophiles rule the world? Do you know how mad that is? It’s from the Middle Ages. It shows a huge decline in the population in critical reasoning skills. It’s moonbeams, lunacy, and so many Christians believe it.
They can’t get their fantasy straight. They don’t know what it is, all the magic in the Bible, and we come down to miracle. Does it exist? Everybody’s seen it down through the ages in every culture on earth. Miracles happen, but they’re not the order of life. They are rare instances of great change in some little module or another, a superseding a nature for a moment. They happen and they don’t happen. So much gets mixed in folklore the impossible our daily ride, and it’s quite possible we hallucinated a lot in times past, even on a mass scale. A consciousness change did that, gave us reason to guide our lives and put out the great eye of the cyclops, Poseidon’s son, so that we would no longer drink from dream and vision right out there under the sun. They receded underwater, and the subconscious withdrew into its cage.
We tarry there now, not even believing in dream and vision and not knowing how to open it again so it doesn’t swallow us. That’s the crux of the matter. I have held a telltale shark in this escape hatch. I am swallowed by dream and vision. I mean it guides my inner life, disrupts. It surround me, and I have to know how to negotiate it. I spend half my time there. It’s loud, and it’s free, liable to take you anywhere, and it’s costly. It plays with your mind all the time. You have to keep it in check. You can’t just let it run amok, and you can’t believe everything it says, shows yah. So much of it’s a lie, a representative figure shown on a screen a moment that’s followed your fancy, your fear. It scares the hell outta you. It tears you apart, and it gives so much hope.
You learn these are lies to mess with you. You learn discernment, and you’re dealing with creatures more intelligent than you. Jung will get you goin’ a long ways: this is just all inside your head, and your head is much bigger than you know, but I’m sorry there are cosmic creatures, angels and demons and Gods and Goddesses and a whole host of nature spirits and world voices and a whole bunch more. You can communicate with the cosmos. It communicates with you. So you sit in the cosmic consciousness and learn how to handle it.
You see miracle there. You see it every day, because the future is in your dreams there to discover every single day, and the hearts of men and women are laid bare, everybody that touches your life that you need to know about, and the great world engines are revealed to you and secrets no one knows, but there you are a pauper in your room of no value to the world. It doesn’t make you rich. You’re dealing with symbols, representation, fairy tales to most people. No one understands the science of dream and vision, and I have gotten it down to a science in my room. Will you blast me for it? We will see.
You’re stupid you know when it comes to showin’ us the times, men and women who are beyond their time. They are persecuted or ignored, made fun of and sometimes killed. I have been ignored and cast aside, like being in an eye of a storm. I must show you what I see because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t. I have divine beings breathing down my neck, and do you know how smart they are, how well they can manipulate our kind to get their packages done? I shoot the bird at them all the time, but I get my job done, and I resisted this poem last night, but it haunted me this morning, and I gave in. I submit it to what, several people? Great world pretend, oh well here I am again crossin’ paperwork and understanding a poem. Do we just sit here and call snakes?
Special thanks for this moment— Bruno. At his side, he getting a life-saving blood transfusion, I wrote the poem
The most gates at society, hey! Propped on the sand in an eurythmic sweet sense, I look at humanity in raw oysters. There’s nothing there that makes us rise above our bull. We get decimated sometimes, and the humility lasts an hour. I don’t understand all this mess. It’s popcorn and candy to our sense of self tryin’ to prove our worth to one another. Look how big I am, and we can say that so subtly. I mean look at me will yah?
Can we spend this? It’s expensive not to see. I count this in humanity in everywhere I wait, in all the plays of the crowd. I want to get bigger than myself. Little everybody treats me, and I’m offended in my self-wears, and little I am. I can’t seem to see this when I’m in a fight. I don’t know how to handle it when I’m spellbound. Can I list my achievements please? Can I show you my worth, again?
Do I have to eat lunch with myself again? You’re not listening to me. If I was two I’d pitch a fit. That’s where I learn to get you to pay attention to me. I get expert at it by the time I’m twelve, and then all hell breaks loose, and I’m just shit-canned again, too old to get my way. Is that when the braggin’ starts? I have got to show you I’m worth, but I’ve lost all the old ploys, and I’m doin’ it again, wantin’ you to validate my self-worth the modicum of humanity.
Is that all turned on to kick-start our humanity, the pedestal I preach to you? Wow, I can sound so good in words. Do I hide behind my writing I knock down every word I say in some pinch or another that my hypocrisy wears? The hypocrisy of others stuns me. I’ve never seen anything like it anywhere on the planet. There is no accountability for it.
Wow do I read sweet words. Can you solve the problem with love without love? You just get likes for it. Nowhere does it bring social change. The social understanding that you’re the victim too, my God that’s the pants we wear. Get people arrested will yah? That’s all you’ve done. You’ve crime and punishmented the thing. Everybody gets mad at people. It’s how you social change, with a baseball bat, but we can’t hypocrisy our way out of this. Love has to be love or it’s not love. Understanding holds you sweet. It doesn’t embarrass you in front of the crowd.
Where do we go with our social understanding to see the lies arise in everybody where we find our brotherly love? Can you understand that? I can’t cover this. I can’t even say it. You just write beautiful words. You don’t mean them, and there’s no way to show you you don’t. You’ve got that covered. You can’t see them in the arms they wear. You can make yourself sound pretty good, but unconscious springs get yah when the spell of your unconscious arise and offers your behavior to meanness.
There is not a day I don’t encounter this in somebody. You’ve encountered a rat in everything society says about me. The principles of love and pray don’t apply here, and you have permission to shoot me in your thought, and that’s a release mechanism like all society wears. If I even say the name you’ll hate me, and there is no way out of this.
I could have done a better poem and kept my social status out of this, but we can’t spend your hypocrisy on nothin’. You’re just bruise your shield in that unspeakable name. Now where you at? I don’t think it’s in loving shares. Oh you do your family alright, a satellite I, but to love humanity you must wear everything in humanity you hate, identifying with that behavior. It don’t come out any other way, the principle in your subconscious communicating that spell “oh I’ve encountered someone I don’t like,” and in the roles of identity you have to know you’re there: I am humanity. This gets larger than everybody, but you can’t find it without accepting everybody.
The roles are mean, even in children, and I need to see this in myself, and I bridge it that way to its appropriate goodness. You hear this now. I’m taking myself and getting myself out of the way, not for any humanity worth, not so you can see me. I just want to be myself, okay, the actual me, the thing I am behind the play, not yet angel wings, but the natural me that’s not stuck to anything that can afford to be nice because nice is what it does our human soul, and nary a subconscious spell can touch it, no matter where you meet life.
The basement’s all cleaned out, and this comes down from on high, if you want to know the truth of it. You can’t just declare your love. You have to raise it up out of you in the skeletons you wear. Can you get my pen rose? Can you hear it please? You have to get down and dirty and clean, at least in the eyes you wear. Whatever you do, see it.
I’m gettin’ down to the natural colors of my room. Do you hear that? Look at yourself some mirror. Roles involved with sweetness, and you’re being bigger than the heys of the crowd. Just don’t recognize that’s where you want mental health to go. Good for her, good for him, take advice.
It’s all a fantasy program. How are we localized here? This stays. It comes and goes in the realms of sleep. We are in a huge tin can, and escape is impossible if you follow the seams.
We don’t even know we’re in here. A big accident gluttons our text eating up forever. This is existence proper, with hot sauce. This is existence on earth, and we suffer here.
How is it done? How are we fooled so early? Not as sick as existence proper. We last a long time in our menageries. The fairy roads to existence startle all of us. It’s all a sparks’ weaving fairy dance putting circumstance in place the settled fact.
It’s a picture show to tell you the truth. Now where is that projector, and is it being filmed as we speak? Something’s funny goin’ on. Can you find existence in there? Can you even get at it?
It’s a big story-house in space that we can’t find the light of, and we are trapped in our rooms of single seeing. Better men then me have pulled these cords, but this is my poet’s worth, but these are my poet wings.
Where does it all lead to and why? Do we even find out at the end of the movie? I can take you farther than Earth in the rounds of Earth, and I can show you time in a bottle. You would not believe who we are outside where we imagine the universe. It’s the secret of the ages, and we carry its wind in our sails comin’ back to itself.
What prolongs the long game, and what makes us suffer so? Can I tell yah? I just did. The tell-tales of existence, I’m there. I’m in the picture show with you. Can you guys see that?
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?
I got soul, a flare, when the authorities are so big. We have dark roots. We’re not gonna terrorize anybody. This is the poem that tell you where it’s at, the soul we find in the machine. Can you stomach this long road? Reach for middle ground, and no soul will show for you. Life isn’t easy on my mark, get set, and my personal arraignment will show you the hallway and the entrance room. Exploding tigers, eh? Exploding entranceways. Exploding tests.
Your soul returns in a blissful way. [sing line] I can’t find my wife. I can’t help it. I’m just get lost in things. What’s the status on my boy? He tries to finish. One second, make me some time. I will operate on my parents. I will come right straight to you.
This is Dylan. You look like Jesus. What are you reading? I will be right there growin’ up. I will give you forms and things, all your books. No one pets me. I would love to guard against that.
The evolution of a single day, we minimize it, blocked by life’s stuff. We can’t see the carton in the room we hold evolutionary purpose. We split in two, just bang our heads against the wall, grab society by the horns and be pulled apart by it.
We are pulled apart by society, so many tin cans in the room. How do we detach from all this stuff? Bring society into the room keepin’ your knees in it, and you’re just gonna get lost in it. I have an opera beyond society, behind every little thing in the world. It’s where I eat lunch. You hear it in these stanzas.
Okay I’ve got a grow room, and the entanglements abide. You hear it every day. I’ve got a little boy named Nithish taken from me, and I complain about my poetry: reader get me more. And I’m worried about my dogs dyin’, the lack of respect I get from my landlord, and the soup I had lunch with yesterday. These are entanglements.
Auroville doesn’t need me, does it? And no one in Auroville will give me a sticker and put my name on their greeting card, at all. I remain isolated, and they publish my poem every week in their newspaper. I write poems there too. The yoga will not even give me the time of day, the yoga of human unity and life on earth growin’ oneness wings.
Okay what is soul purpose? Can an entanglement say that? I’m watchin’ evolution here. It’s sees me, but I think it’s turned the other way. I’m bummed out about my entanglement. These are vital moods the life force carries all day long. I can’t get rid of ‘em. It’s a spell from places deep.
Alright there’s a chester drawer, also from places deep. It’s the soul in the room, behind and apart from everything. Yes, yes sing to Auroville today a guiding light, write poems to the yoga, and hold that boy when I tell yah to, and let go of your status among men. I’m the soul detach worth, and I’ve got mountains of soul change ahead. You hear that music now.
It’s a blister on Easter. It’s hard to come about. It’s the soul detach on things, and you hear it now, and it feels good, doesn’t it? How do you cultivate this nigger? By puttin’ soul change ahead, recognizin’ your time of sleep guides towards that when you wake up from dream.
Don’t just stay in your room. Have you ever put your thoughts in another as they walk by? What thoughts are they havin’? And you’re tryin’ to wear their skin. You feel them there. And pick out some sore spot upon the Earth, and put your consciousness there like you can’t get bread too, and your children are dyin’, and you feel this with your tears. Can you get there?
You’re openin’ up soul in the room, and you keep doin’ it with everyone you meet, especially those close to you, and this is an inner job. They just know you’re sweet and kind and tryin’ to figure them out. You keep your hand on that lever, everybody won’t even know you’re doin’ it. You know how selfish people are. I don’t know if there are any returns on this. I haven’t gotten any yet. People don’t see it. They see themselves, and you’re givin’ them what they’re worth. That’s hard. Entanglement number four, fuck you.
Are we all here a hero’s worth? I think not. We’re just involved with ourselves, and we sum it up for loved ones, satellite I’s of our solar star. The soul change gets us to see our room differently. It’s a battleground in there to separate the wheat from the chaff, and you don’t let no one down.
You learn what’s expensive in your room and costs you your evolution, what’s expensive in there to hold you up every time. Can you see this notion? It’s a soul room, where peace on earth comes from in the larger sphere. Can you gauge this?
I’ve just given yah a formula for world change, and all you that know how, will you dance with me? It’s a formula you give your room that opens up the world to us. It doesn’t come in a tin can. Is that so hard to believe? You try to wear their skin thought today.
Open the door. You try to wear their thought today. Takin’ a bath belly up while we ride that tone, we really reach in our heads and get it done, findin’ the light in everybody and brinin’ evolution to the forefront detachin’ ourselves from all these cares gettin’ to the soul need of each one and bein’ big there. ¿Comprende?
Making’ the soul of sacrifice, can you pull a soul play in that room? It’s a shame you brought your brush, charmin’ hair Nithish. He’s not a pumpkin no more cause he’s got the credit card to bring you in lean with him, and he can’t say your name right. A child forgets his toys if they get lost, and should he perchance see you, they kid cashes in taking advantage, and you’re left swingin’ on a short rope. It’s okay he loves you. Just get away from him in thought and wrappin’ around him all the time. Let the soul take over. No problem connecting him to you there’s a soul range ahead. Capisce?
To the soul on earth need help, and you see the need, and you parachute in. I’m not tellin’ you to leave him alone. All's worth on him and he needs to see yours, before you run out of windows for him. A moment in my futile pen all's say. No one holds the true purpose of mankind. One major soul note I have given you at my own expense, and now I have to live with this. They had a nice chair there buddy. Learn to look though. Take pictures of him again it’s bright and shiny future says Earth must do.
I did yet the big big pen to help me find him. It’s just my name’s not on his notebook anymore, and what can you do with that? What’s that music? He really felt it, and he really wanted our hope back.
I’ve got a lot of folding chairs here, and they’re supposed to sit in ‘em, like in 24 hours, on a moment’s notice. I grab my dick and double click, and no one comes along (I’m murderin’ my pen), except a thoughtful read of you my good friend right now. Oh gosh gee I’m sorry, I can’t pull it out, the poem that says it all, and you do see me tryin’. You are the world to me. Oh, sing with me, sing for the year. Sing for the laughter, and sing for the tear. [sing two above lines turn of “Dream On”]
The slightest word crowd, you can really show the writing on the wall. A few minutes ago you had us to the tune of “Dream On”. If it doesn’t work out for you, dream on, but we don't doubt that boy woke up.
Another life on earth, we enter that life today. Can you believe I’m 21? I sit in bathtubs and smile, holdin’ onto speech that has not come. I’m butt naked, and no one sees me. I haven’t entered society yet. I think my penis said that.
I lift my voice and sing syllables that make sense to me, and my truck, my God my red truck, it’s bigger than life. I’m a destruction derby all day long. How do you expect chaos to get along? When I pee everybody drinks it, and I’m glad that I did.
I just shouted. Did you hear it? I can turn a principle 13. Here I am in my kingpin. Wow that’s tight. What body part did they make? I am really in the ditch with you, and it’s wonderful ain’t it?
My body is on fire with the touches of life, and I can feel my own skin. I go through sudden rages, and no one even answers me for it. You can’t say no to me. I want to do everything. I love the sudden grandpa. He doesn’t practice the word no.
You know what it’s like to run free? We will find thought soon. I’m an image in my head of pumpkins waiting for the birth of thought. That comes with language you know. My grandpa gave me a new word today, careful. I fall so many times.
Okay I’m 21 months, and I’m takin’ my time. Who wants to be thrown to the wolves? I’m just all out in front of everybody. I’m Dylan. I'm myself to please.
photo by the author taken in a secret five minute meeting with Nithish nine months ago
I’m fighting stars. I have no idea I can’t do anything unless my muse reads it to me. You are the couch existence sits on to write. Still hasn’t found you able to write anything. Here, do this circle.
No matter what I say, no matter what I dream, I can’t get rid of those institutes that go against the grain of society in compelling posts. I have been left without my boy and wondering if he’s better off without me. I am bereft of hope, and this is bigger than my boy. Is the whole thing a tin can?
Is existence squeezed out of existence by the Diamond Bearer? Is this all a charade, and even God himself can’t stop cryin’? Is there a safe harbor anywhere, a safe place? I’m talkin’ existence big.
Thank you I’m smart and can see the ruse in everything, even my own ruse. I can’t change my consciousness to save my life, and I know what change means. Are the roads to Supermind blocked by Supermind? Is enlightenment just a scare? What gives?
Do you know how fucked up everything is? Do you know how big it is, the screw in everything? We can’t climb Mount Everest with that. We are foiled by cliff hangers, and we can never reach the top, and in the history of poetry I have to explain to you symbolism. Nothing gets out of my bag.
Do you know how tall that is? I’m meaning’s worth, and I keep reaching holes in my story. I don’t understand all that is, but I know Gods play with us, and there really are monsters under the bed. Can you see my daily life?
Bigger than being it arrives from distant shores, the very breath of being, and it gets there all the time, in our underwear. I cannot move this molestation. Are we fucked from the very first? There’s a hole in the program. Whatever it is that uses us for existence is unhinged? That’s how the story grows?
What guarantee do we have that it is safe? Are we existence’s pall bearers? Alright arouse my pen are we safe from the universe? I question everything. In the horror of day to day living, living where peace finds us and goodwill, you can’t condemn it all to understand. You can’t even breathe.
Do you know we eat bread together on the inside, and I am you and you are me? That’s the joke ain’t it, we spit on that. I’m goin’ somewhere, even if I don’t believe it sometimes. I’m tryin’.
There I am on cars, and I carry the world around all day a poet’s worth. I have these great big thoughts that ground. I mean I’m a scout for the human race really involved with you. I question my own worth, but that’s not throwin’ myself away. I work in the engine room of humanity, and I don’t even think you know there’s there, for what it’s worth.
We haven’t found ourselves yet larger than our own personal skulls, dangnabbit. I’m a shopping spree of the limits of ideas. I can do it, get out there where no thoughts are, and I can hold existence in my hand. Is that a safety rope? I’m gettin’ underneath things not because I have to because I love you, and we can figure you my little boy.
I witness the safety ground, and I’m lookin’ for it in the large eyes he wears, and I could just tear my heart out, you know?
I have the living room in my hand, and I got a shot at Earth lead me to him. That’s the death of a unicorn has almost swallowed him whole, and he don’t know how to feel right, my little boy.
I’m comin’ upon him now. I’m placing a wall. I thought for a brief time there’s no doubt about it this is what he wants to flower with me.
You can’t lose your job. James, I’m tellin’ yah the truth. You will have his little hands in yours again, right there on bright Earth, where the Earth makes sense. You’re fillin’ a role in the sky.
I didn’t allow there’s monumental change ahead. What happened? It’s alright— monumental impact. Well here’s the movie here’s the camera, and I’ve got ‘im, I’ve got ‘im in my pocket. [sing this and above line] Can this be like all played out?
Wide God, did he actually go to touch that? No, he resurrected Tommy another poet live on earth; another poet rides the Earth.
Up bring everything. Where’s my boy? A resident’s assembly bringing towards that you. Who lived off the grid? What exactly did you mean by business? They think it’s me the wrong piston, this wagon: I can’t find my dime in society. This sucks and I want out of it. We’re on you like stink on shit— the great big arms of society. We don’t let you get there to utopia. We damage everything.
Now let’s go to the bubble Auroville, an experimental town city. Great Scott! society couldn’t leave it alone, molested it like a little child, and it got taken over by the Indian government way back when but comin’ out of the woodwork now, just as pretty as you please. Now they’re stuck with nothin’ to do about it. A patriotic Indian government has taken over, and they’re throwin’ out non-Indians who disagree, makin’ the international city Indian.
Spirituality’s the powder keg. They don’t do it right they say. They quote the Mother and Sri Aurobindo all day without understandin’ what they’re talkin’ about, without knowin’ those words, with the fervor of a religious persons who bring Auroville to its knees surrenderin’ to the Mother said. This is the apex of the new city. It’s lost its charter there. I’m a mechanic, and I’ve got some cars to work on, the Auroville sedan and the world school bus. I want to show you the method of the spirituality. I have some things to say. Annie get your gun. We might stay together, anyone wantin’ a new society, anyone wantin’ to change the world. Annie’s gonna shoot us all if she could. She don’t let social change, and she’s government big.
I begin here my revolt, not with gunpowder or any type of violence, not with protest signs and blockin’ streets. I give you the ideas that will change the world. Funny huh? it’s just little ole me. I want my boy to come home. That’s this can you hear me? That’s the child I’m pullin’ out all the stops for, I’m riskin’ my life for, to rescue.
A black man did it, killed all these people in control of mankind, without takin’ a single life, without firin’ a single shot. He got rid of their ideas that control us. He blew up the machine with the ideas that make the world. Keep him open answering questions.
There are horrors, huh, right now? [vision of a ghoul-like creature popping up from behind some trashcans that I kicked, as if it’d been hiding there] The tremblin’ must be rewound by it. You’re almost taken. There is no revolution anymore. It’s found you. This is hotdog nigger stats, your consumer prices index. Am I racial string theory my dear? Interracial. We are all following the machine, reacting to its wares and memes. Nigger got you didn’t it? You all jump in the same hoop, even if you use that word to call people names.
We are a standardized machine, no glory holes. We take our partner to legalized sex and punish those who don’t. Can I get at that spirit of the machine? I’m not sayin’ sex traffic kids. You’re all in a bottle you know, even the one who breaks all the rules. You’ve been put to the test, livin’ off the grid like you do. You define yourself by society. Just look at the books you read. They’re society bound, even Henry David Thoreau or that guru master you read. You’re reading other people of what you make work in life.
Can we get off the stairs? Can you table God? My God he’s big. Can I rewrite you a blindin’ every minute to the creation made today as we speak, nothing standardized nothing made all this past that led up to now? It’s a fairy rose, a shapin’ flux that’s puts together our minutes seemingly aligned with the past. A great big school of thought this that brings the universe to bear. I mean the universe is jumpin’ out at yah right now, created this minute don’t you see?
A settled creation no. Created now of world maker’s art. You have these pistons it fits into, and you grease your days and nights with your own content. You are a happening in the Void, a mechanism for a movie graveling existence into nothingness so that we can be. Do you have your hat on?
When science reaches here it will see God guiding stars from above and gathering forms in place, but it is fairy rose, the whole damn show. In this existence is real. Its rises God, climbs out of the Void by lighting it, and we make up its lives. See you soon at the reunion of stars. We do not come from the Void. We are the soul in the machine.
Now do you see miracle? The soul rises in the machine. Are you startled? You should be. That’s the bulwark of creation right in your hands. Now take a child and whip him again. You know you’re risin’ stakes. You don’t see the significance Earth? It has a wonder-weft in it. To your mom Nithish. We have the autograph books for Being, big beautiful Being.
That’s why wood’s together, those two grapplin’ with existence proper, the boy that makes you uneasy, the man that makes you question things, they find inner muscle. I’ll have X call you back. You know he’s waiting. Now for some childhood trauma. I met the Void in its dirty underwear. Outside of the world I disappeared from Heaven in a toddler’s nightmare. Buried alive, I had existence piled on top of me. I rose things that jumped out and rescued me. Fell down in the Void a toddler with inner journey secrets. All our arms point down be careful. Hell has a wide mouth. Light itself got me out. Can I call your name? Can I name the world? Caught in those wheels myself existence rose, right in the middle of the sun.
Now I’ve seen where holocaust comes from, saw the monsters of the deep and the origin of all evil. I felt it there. Trade me for secrets, and I will light what can’t be seen. Come down to earth with me, and let’s get out of this hole leading little lives of quiet desperation not knowin’ where we’re goin’ or a get there to get there too, just bein’ fishes in a plastic bottled sea in the pattern of the days. Even if you’re rich or the president of something, we’re in the Void. We are almost buried in the machine.
What do we do with these minutes? We standardize them, make them in line, and we do this by society’s test in the basics of us, no matter where we live. I’ve chased you there, all the great thinkers escapin’ the machine. I don’t think you can be free in it. Here is the test now in a sudden poem. My God that works. I can do it. Fine, I’m in my underwear.
Can I show you the Holocaust again in time, the cruelty of one towards the other, the diabolical meanness? Will you change that way and be kind to people or even good, or will you hate the abusers and turn off the TV? Will you see this in your own house with your own kids, forcing them into labor camps of school, making them obey you or else, giving them your name not theirs, making them fill society’s roles and cutting off their souls? It’s a holocaust of denial. We make standard kids in a standard room, and we can’t get over it don’t work. Even if our kids cure cancer, they haven’t made humanity bigger than itself, they haven’t evolved us further than ourselves, they haven’t seized the wheels of time and discovered us.
You live in a box you see, a prison house of weft. I’m tryin’ to find a key to outside where the inner splendors lay, but you’ll just shoot me if I’m wrong, not in my theory in my moral with boys. Look at you. You will deny the inside in the moments of this poem because I can’t talk about it I’m not worthy? We all live in the yellow submarine. [sing line] Coffee sir, I think we’re on the brink of change.
I’m off right now. These are world fireworks of every cloud in the sky. I’m a loud chitty bang bang. I arrest you and put you to sleep. I call your name at night. I’m bigger than sin. I’m your guacamole. I take you to the temple at night. I really get into your stuff, and I can mislead you too. I can really mislead you. I play with your consciousness like it’s on fire, and I wrap it around the gods and the name you call home. I’m puddin’ in a bucket. I show you things unseen about yourself. I fry there. I’ve got a lot of gas to get you to the supermarket and back. I can change your life if you let me. I can show you which way to go and where you must not go. I’m a conscious mechanism in dream and all vision states. I’m your inner life where it touches ground when you’re alone to yourself. No dammit I'm not Donny. Jeez, representative think, will yah?
I’m great big and I’m mean. I mean when you first open me, for a lot of people. I change the world into its starlight, and I’m all piss and vinegar in them hellholes. Come open me I’m a gift of inner seeing, the lost art of humanity. Wanna watch it grow? Right before your eyes in this poem. This is what you’re off the grid for, to get in touch with your inner dynamics, to reopen miracle and you.
You’ve got to consciousness to get there and study there like you’re in school, where to travel in dream when you wake up in them, how to use the paralyzed trance to leave your body and your room and see if we share a field of consciousness, how to bake there in any inner keeping the questions of existence, of who you are and what unfolds time.
Off the grid do you hear me? No, you can do this in a valet parking lot, right in the middle of society. You don’t have to wear shoes. You can just get goin’ anywhere you find yourself stuck on Earth. You don’t have to have any titles to do this, no special education. You can just be you opening the doors of the inner consciousness and discovering what’s in there don’t you see?
Samadhi will come along eventually, and you will abide there fishin’, even in the surrender mode. We have paths to cross. We’ve got to get to know time. We have to see who we are. This is in the middle of the road. That's the dream maker. It gets you out of boxes, and it’s available to every man, woman, and child, even in the animal kingdom. I’m in; how did you get down there?
You study dream. You look for the doorways in there, the spiral force that takes you, the swing, and the fall down into the well of soul. There is enlightenment too that you can slip into for a dream wear. There’s overhead experience. You focus on the inside like it’s your business. Soon you will see the future in dream, where you dream every night some part of tomorrow. It’s in symbols weird. It will blow your mind. You will explore consciousness then so fortified. I don’t believe in magic. You will begin to. Just open the inner doors with discernment and kindness and a watch out about yourself, and see the world change.
You don’t jump in boxes. You call out my name and send money to this number. Now you know how a fraud sounds, as I notice your red tongue. Do you wanna be a teacher? You don’t need a guide. Go get your calendar. I’m going to build a new house. That takes time. Inner red riding book, that’s your splashdown. How to fly to inner report the eggs that it needs? Symbol after symbol you will encounter. It’s the language of the Spirit. I never thought about needing one. We haven’t gotten to the interpretation of dreams yet, but in our little dream company we cracked the code. Start with Episode 1. It’s a podcast silly, but it’s free.
I don’t have a guidebook to give you. I just have me when you get down to dream. I have evidence it’s out there, the rediscovery of mankind, the great big rediscovery of all our good books on survival, how we get along, and where we change for one another, share that field inside. I’m bigger than my room. You just watch. The table where we’re all planted the beginning of the inner revolution. Listen to this poem there. It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature, and it’s right here we beat AI, with our own inner television. I see. I need a new pair of shoes. And that’s great.
Earth meaning on a whole, the meeting of two red lines, you keep your outer life goin’. Don’t lose your job, and if you take your kids out of school, make sure they can function in society. Don’t give them your life. Let them find theirs. Outer life tuned, you’re now an ensemble of the inner too. You don’t get lost there. You don’t even make it your life’s work. It’s your education, how to handle the outer life and where to go with it, ultimately how to change the world.
You don’t get led astray by your name among men. Can I exemplify you? You let your art do that. It will fly before humanity the flag you’re supposed to, the take place of you art. These will come from inner wares, the more inner, the more valuable. You’re not doin’ this to preach. You wanna find yourself inside to get into that outside the proper material.
You’re balancin’ life the inner wares too. You don’t cut one short. The inner and the outer play along and begin to dovetail. You can do both at the same time. That’s advancement. That’s where it starts, you outgrow yourself, you’re becoming the bigger you are, and it’s diamonds, but it’s not wear around your neck. You meet the breeze humbly and sweetly, without acting. Your self-honesty has reached sincerity. Come over here. You’re in the drawing room of God, and great shoulder notions ride your room. This is the attack plan of a real world revolution. Sweet, ain’t it? Sweet and kind. This is the attack plan of an inner revolution, and all you have to do is open your eyes to inner beginnings. You got that right?
I’m gonna explore and investigate consciousness. Bottled up inside you your destination. See who it is an overhead experience. Now you know you’re there because you’ve reached this nameless origin, the Person that you are, the origin of all your lives, somewhere up there in the sun, greatly over your head. You can see everything. It’s too big for you to remember when you return to your little self. My God this is big, and there’s no mistakin’ time. You’ve been outside of it. You’ve been bigger than the moon, the tall country of the gods. I’m ashamed of this? You don’t even know it’s there. You can’t count the sun.
Now murder me for it, or get your persecution gun, like you’re doin’ now in Auroville the city of dawn. I’m an outcast there, not now about little boys, where we begun. I’ve made people mad by seeing things the community don’t. I’ve engaged people who wear special status in spirituality or somethin’. They glide in my room and just spit there. Most won’t respond to me, and I’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest I believe.
These are little people. What do you do with them? You come out of your holes and shine. You don’t hide yourself no more. My boy’s at stake I’ve got to do this. He needs my help. Will I be here tomorrow? I don’t know. I’ve got people on my case. I can disappear anytime. So I show you the sun and where creation comes from. I give it to you all free and without regard to my safety. Great you say, big deal, are you trying to impress us?
It’s the wrong time for this. Everybody’s show and tell. I am just one in a number oh isn’t that interesting? But here in Topeka the flies are a buzzin’. [sing this and above line, a song by Loretta Lynn] I’m in danger here. What’s a body to do? Why open more poetry of course, high priority encounters about the transfer of the One. Then you draw the line he needs rescued. I want my boy back.
Gonna go to the funeral of my/one nation above all. [two words heard spoken simultaneously] This is politics. Nobody knows its price. There’s no exclusive zones. You value humanity more than your national individual, or your race or peoplehood, even your religion. Sounds impossible now. It’s the only way to survive, equality at its most basic point.
Fundamentalist Christians will have a field day calling this the Antichrist. The number of man don’t you see? 666. And Jews and Moslems cannot exclusive each other, and the resistance to that will go to the sink, but you still be Jew like it’s your life’s blood. Americans cannot be Americans and only Americans. They must include the world. India cannot see her greatness above other peoples when she can give her spirituality, definitely universalized. No nation or people will ride the others like they own the planet. China will have to settle down and give us good engines to wear. This is flower, not put the engines of the world to her use, and North Korea will be no more. All will unite in peace.
This is the human ship some waves from now. Can’t believe it, can you? We’re on the brink of this today, where ideas ride time, where ideas enter humanity as the clothes we wear. It’s comin’. It’s not even in our minds today. It’s not on the news. It’s a radical idea everybody’s scared of, nobody can promote, neither in the press nor in the government, and science is busy with atoms and other small fare. They will not bring us together. Academia, well, this is a pipe dream, and increasingly they’re controlled.
Well how does it get in? Intelligence— we put the human being first or die. I’m talking about people’s upon the Earth, purely political wears. I’m not talking about ruining existing structures or eclipsing God with man. I bright and shiny your day with your humanity comes first before any other kin. We teach that in school, give this to our babies.
You hear me now? It’s a price we wear, gettin’ good at as we see our survival depends on it. We start today in the maker of a poem where I put my foot ride: humanity ever coming first, in my politics with mankind, in my behavior, in my think about you and us, in where I meet you today.
I’m riding God as the one I wonder at, as the one I want to please, as the one I want to be like, as the one I want to hold dear above all else, as my principle keeper, and if I put humanity first, the human being over any category of people, I am bright house God wear, and the more I know God, he’s not an exclusive zone. He can wear all pronouns at once and is the love of humanity in my heart. Where do you think this idea comes from?
It comes from God one notion humanity. Past you’re early. Noosphere, everyone’s looking for you. In siddhi, that’s where I sit, and I just made an inner poem. I made some mistakes where we meet each other. I will answer for it like this: let’s put humanity first.
In the middle of humanity, in humanity’s living room, I can get this across to you in thought wears. Come to my room the thoughts that are out there pullin’ humanity close to itself on the frontiers of thought. I’ve pulled humanity close to itself. I get in humanity’s room today.
Is this a great mixing? I don’t think you understand me right. This is the center of identity in human terms among all the peoples. It’s a movement to grow this in humanity where you raise your children. It’s not a boiling pot humanity, pull your pants down and let everybody there. You still have national borders and respect demographics. You’re just more human about it. You give it a liberal hand, but you don’t overwhelm a culture with immigrants. We will get good at making their lives better where they are, but we will not refuse them to move.
Can I champion human causes? We need to improve the lives of children in Africa. You can’t get better infrastructure than that, priority child’s lives. Loved at home and treated brightly, that’s the food they wear. Do you see my cultural dynamics? It’s the number one priority, meet those children’s needs. The world doesn’t wanna to be overwhelmed with immigrants comin’ out of Africa from the hungry states. She was havin’ a baby gettin’ bigger than the rest of the world.
You wanna see if I can fix it? That’s the reason you don’t let population growth get out of hand. You let it stay in check. I need to ask you somethin’. Who writes the news? We are not listening to wisemen.
I don’t like everybody; is this everybody? The warm human being giving rise to the warm human being, it’s easy if you try. We have to educate people about children. The rocket science is how they treat the world. It’s amazingly possible to stop slapping children and beating their little behinds— no physical punishment anywhere on the planet. Get rid of this nursery rhyme. Treat it like sexual abuse in that it has to be stopped, in that it’s harming humanity. You would not kill people for it or treat them like monsters. You wouldn’t even hate them. You would understand the rule of abuse: they just get mad and hit.
Their behavior’s preconditioned, and who can control themselves when a spell from the unconscious takes over? Can anybody? You’ve never understood this since the beginning of time, why laws don’t work, why the killin’ hasn’t stopped, the rape and plunder, any ole bad behavior. It’s unconscious process, and it has to be stopped through recognizin’ its process. Can you do that?
Education will ensue: stop being monsters to the stupid monster in everyone. You don’t hit a kid, that’s rule number one. We start at the beginning, this one Krakatoa. We get in there and educate the public like our lives depended upon it. We help kids when their parents hit them, or nazi them around, or any harsh treatment, and get in those parents with the strategies they need to survive/cope, [words heard spoken simultaneously] forcefully, tactfully. You can’t abuse them in turn, but you make them know they’re hurting their child.
A license to have children? We’ll get to that, a coverin’ ground how to have children. The very first thing you mention you don’t hit them, and I’ve left a school behind, a whole row of poems, the specifics about them genitals. Eat it up.
You’ll know where the safe houses are, the ones comin’ online, the ones makin’ it right with their children. They tell their children they’re humanity before any other row. They tell them sweetly, kindly, and without all this pressure. This is your identity kid. You’re a human being in the politics of bein’ human, who you are among the group. Sure your people are important, your race your tribe, but sweet humanity my dear, the whole is who we are.
Do you see this trampoline? It can be done in all existing countries, in every household on the planet. Can you get at humanity that way? Will warm slowly, but when the idea's out there it’ll catch on. Let’s get after it people. Don’t you wanna to stop climate change and do away with genocide, and take a big bite out of war, and how much to gender will be solved when everybody sees their human being and not just a gender walking towards them? Okay little human being, you get started. Okay let’s ride.
That old door we can lock it. We can lock it by taking a rule and applying it to behavior. I will never understand why it keeps rising. It’s good fiberglass, but when you bump it it breaks. It’s only doable in finding your own fine seals baby. You really test the waters there, overcome behavior with a song, “I Love My Child”.
Listen, listen close, back to the tree, that shadow tree, that tummy I don’t give up. It seems like this whole thing is evidence there’s so much to the hitting of children, and there’s a whole lot we don’t see, but always remember forgive me and go save my child when you’re in Africa. That’s really what he wants, what they want, parents who beat their children: they need help raising their kids. They just don’t wanna admit it. You can control yourself. How do you do? Could be good company comin’ in. Those are the helpers you see. It could be divine speech.
I’m tired of standing here with supramental orders that can’t even be looked at. / Comin’ off a blog, you can’t get that heretic. You get a certain group of followers and that’s it. My fingers count the readers of these poems. You can count to ten for most posts. How many morally outraged people are there? On them days there’s a spike, the people lookin’ for the gun. I’m a rose in a cabin, and never I get out of that cabin and out into the public’s heart. I press controversial material, and there’s a lot of fear there.
I have not been allowed to speak I come from that social group. People are fear there. Come to the concert all your children in that they come first. I’m a child lover. I am a child lover that knows how, and God has taken my hand and shown me how. Will you dance with me?
You can’t film a psychological drama. They’ve upped the ante. We’re all weirdos. We don’t know what we’re talkin’ about. Thankful, be thankful. Somebody’s made some sense of all this, and I’ve done that expertly and cleanly. You can see it now, and here I am humanity giving you humanity, a toe to raise your children telling them they’re humanity, a radical idea to change humanity into its kinder parts, most noble. We need this to survive.
We find each other on the limits of sacrifice. This is no fools barred. We include everybody. Alright ship let’s go. Let’s get on with it. It’s a glory ride right into our business and actually, physically change the world. Don’t a waste it. We got this down.
We’re gonna tall this in and go for walks with the greatness of our children beautifully down the road. I’m in a compartment blog. We don’t remember. It must be a huge one. You’ve slept in a ponytail before. This is woke at its most basic part, where it means somethin’, and that all of humanity rides. It’s possible it’s possible, and gather to me now all the action when we walked in Heaven together, when we lived in bright beautiful homes with no strife. You don’t believe this I’m sorry/I know [phrase heard spoken simultaneously] gathered here into your one life, but we’re guardin’ plans at the altitude of Heaven meets Earth, and all that Heaven’s gold’s here. There’s where we start to ride.
It’s a recipe of children maker, and it’s always been in our hands to use. We’ve just had to get here at the opening of the Earth. You won’t be surprised this all came about, we made it, future read this. The cosmology of plans fulfilled looks so inevitable to us, but a cliffhanger in a half this was. For example, I almost didn’t make it, you know? I’m the preacher of the word, the choir I sing to, and I’m the congregation I start. Gettin’ ahold of yourself, it’s the tooth fairy about livin’. Hold on, I must tell yah I’ve really done that, and it wasn’t easy. Come on let’s bake this mile. We have a world to change. Let’s get goin’ people.
Harm's End 