Look at the homeless with binoculars. Our individual freedom doesn’t extend that far in the thousand mile kingdom. No homeless please. We’re all fruitcakes. Be crazy live a crazy day, tantalizing. We are moored in individual freedom everywhere our commercials reach. They key of the individual has been locked in some drawer. Look at it. Conformity in obedience is every sign.
Conformance and mobility, is that a high-rise condominium? We live in nation great. Has anybody seen it? It’s a melting house of the wrong ideas. It’s a house of conformity livin’ in big beds. Try to bring four dogs to town, and you’re out the door. Can the people that make such decisions respect you?
What are we doing here? Everything makes money or is about the same. We don’t live in a society of free people. We think politics rules the day. It’s each other we rule with our dumb attitudes of you’re not my type or you don’t do that right.
Let’s all be mean to everybody when we have the power to do so. Who wears a social mask when you’re a hero championing all the distain? I can be mean to you because social hierarchy is everything in the land of the free.
What’s up? Have we sold our souls for product? Look at the shelves. The comfortable eating world of me, my God it’s big. The availability of product has destroyed the world, but I put America first in my prayers, and I get fat doin’ it.
Now it’s the Gulf of Mexico bein’ drained out in America’s name. We are proud people, and we stick our nose up at a fall. We don’t know there’s a fall. Just ask an immigrant, illegal if they’re non-white, legal or not. They know a reckoning. How are they not human beings? They know the price of a fall.
Can we discuss national boundaries? How are we managin’ this, without constraint? The people that sleep in the same trees as me my country ’tis of thee? Open borders haunt us all, but are borders and hatred the same thing? I’m ICE lookin’ down its long list to expel people: let’s get rid of vermin will yah? Is that the land of the free and the home of the brave?
Salute the flag again. Everybody’s doin’ it, and here comes Trump, an underdeveloped character from our minions, who does not have love for his neighbor, has taken the golden rule and shove it up your ass, hates even his constituents if they’re not about his name.
Where is God? He is not in Trump’s eyes. He won’t fit there. The justice of God is concerned with the Earth, sacrifices for the love of mankind, loves the just and the unjust, let’s his rains benefit everybody, is an ambulance carrying people to righteousness.
America puts God first? Let’s send everybody to hell who hasn’t got the formula right worship Jesus or die. Now that’s love for all eternity, no forgiveness ever, and you are suffering the worst hell imaginable. Found your nation on this religion, make this your idea of God, his final character, and you don’t have a nation love your brother let me tell yah.
Now give Trump the power of God, that carte blanche you’ve given him, and make him mean you. Trump is not there in the love of your life. He’s a dangerous will armed with time. Where do you see Christ? Where do you see the love of man? What is his dollar statement? Every head and every hands making that the chief concern. Right on the beach put this hood on yah: you’re makin’ money off of sunbathers; you’re makin’ money off of fences; call this the American way.
The mess we’re all in, have you found it yet? Would you look for it if you could? Are you just blind to the peripherals? Would you love your brother if you could, whoever that is? That’s not giving them a dollar to eat. You’re giving every man, woman, and child on the Earth we inhabit, in our togetherness, the helpful goodwill we need to see each other correctly.
And America, the most powerful nation on earth, can you lead us all to goodwill and be an example of sacrifice? Never mind defending your borders; you have that genuine need, but can we get grace to policy your movements?
There, my God I poet. Do you hear me? And found peace a few times before the profound peace. I’m lookin’ for it now. I have an appointment with destiny. It’s just my own personal flavor on things, a poet in the halls of America let’s be good shall we? I didn’t cut my teeth on it, and boy have I been a sinner, but goodness is my way to meet the world because I’ve learned the price of love.
Can I give you that honor? Let’s swim on the beach and never harm anyone, even in the throes of thought. Let’s pick up ourselves and cherish one another. I’m rootin’ for you in this sundown meditation. Do you hear the beach?
Image from Plate 14 of William Blake’s Jerusalem, 1804–1820 (public domain)
I hate the shoot up of this wad. If I use sexual imagery you’re bound to buy me. We are not at our survival, and there’s not a bear chasing us. You’re in your kitchen or master room, hanging on every word to get clear reasons to put me in jail or finally prove I’m wrong you public think.
Let’s unload this on the public floor. I don’t know what it is either. I’m hearing things write down, a used garbage pail to most of you cats. Chop me to pieces will yah? I’m on Earth today getting pretty desperate election time on that world bar America. Trump just got elected, and I’m sorry folks he’s dead. The vehicle would shoot everybody. We can’t have him in office, understand?
What’s gonna happen? You can’t get America right again. The Right will take over, and all the policies that will police yah, and religion will have a field day brewin’ public opinion Christianity stalks. We can’t even stop it only aware of our own agenda, not necessarily nice. The world will change. American mean in it. To grow up in the new country, to grow up in the United States, you will see foreigners as twisted sisters come here and buy all of yah.
What’s the inner being like? It’s your pick this evening, to bring that nightmare further: oh my God America’s change. It will really throw rights out the window. You can’t play anymore puddin’ and spice. Get fuckin’ outta here! Who knows how many crossword puzzles paid for breakfast, and they weren’t even supposed to be admitted in the news. I’ve been here my whole life, and I study reality. Never mind, they were makin’ I need paper towels, but this won’t happen: nobody mops up the spilled blood. They talk about more than fuck out.
I thought maybe you’d grab a horn and keep America from gettin’ in office where Trump runs it. It’s dire emergency. Get with the lesson plan: we need a new world, the divine human being getting ready on our tops, not the Bible said today, a religion in office.
Spider monkeys, somebody’s gonna have to put lead in their bullets, and do more than just chime, and vote them suckers down far out of thirty minutes, like a rollin’ pin. You need elections, this election, beat her up, go out there and get milk, from the Statue of Liberty. That’s not all she wrote.
My own show, it is very opening. (vision with the line of scrolling down my blog Harm's End, but the only image showing was one which illustrates a post, a photo of a Black man of about a 100 years ago holding a guitar, obviously an expert on it. The post is about my past life as a Black guitar player who was killed by the KKK, burned alive, for playing in White joints. The vision ended there and the scrolling down) Poetry as a means to communicate words of action is nobody’s pick me up. They suck. They tell the truth. I’m out of fields today, and I don’t know what more expression I can write, hallelujah, amen. Keep Trump out of office.
I’m actually a century before. I don’t know what they had in mind, the colony who populates divine word. Give ‘em an hallucinogen, the reader I can’t see. It heightens everything, even Auroville, but no I didn’t take one today, or since I became better at knocking on wood, years ago. I can’t stomach your audience. Is that Auroville? No I speak to America from, doggy style. Don’t get Trump in office.
Is this the Hallelujah Trail? No it’s not it’s language. I eat camera’s all the time, the one I told you about yesterday in your own cabin. In the history of Trump I stop wanderin’ around. These are the votes. I’m the vote that let’s you know divine will in the matter. Compared to our official engagement, even Saturday Night Live can’t keep up. This hole in the ground, this hole in the wall, has consequences I’m gettin’ away. Grandiose title, ain’t it, Thought About Rainbows? Try on Earth some more. You deserve them.
Look at the Indus Valley.
They came here and planted it Themselves,
the Gods on Earth.
This is talking ship.
It saw Them mountain range.
Where we goin’?
Invictus.
It’s gonna take a long time just to get started.
Itching glass
now.
Come and say hi,
every wrong thing about India.
You got any stamps up here?
The ruling party wants to throne themselves,
like they’re in charge of Earth.
It’s in every land grab.
What’s happening?
That’s the truth—
want this uttered on Hindu lips.
Hey,
drown the BJP,
their own mess,
and they’re not
what the Gods intended.
Smell them?
They are not crystal clear drinking water.
Where would the Bhagavad Gita ride their behavior?
They go after people
without equanimity.
They hate and they slay.
What principles of yoga do they follow?
There’s the Self in my enemy;
I must respect him?
கொஞ்சம்
the spirit of the demonic man
in their heart.
Rage like asuras.
Where are they busy with the Self?
Universal brotherhood
and compassion,
you have not seen this in them.
I’ve seen this all over town
In their fields of notion.
Have you heard their laws?
They would bury people
in punishments made to make them suffer.
They have no understanding of law.
It’s not used as a weapon.
It’s to help you become better.
Look at their ganja initiative.
The underaged would suffer so
in environments that will make them worse.
Now let’s look at their civic duties.
Employment for youth,
better wages and a shorter workweek for all—
no more 12 hours days?
Let’s help our homeless, shall we?
take care of our old people,
give orphans the royal treatment,
and don’t leave anybody out in the cold?
Where are they taking the population?
bad, bad, blood, blood, [line heard sung by Neil Sedaka, song “Bad Blood”]
to the wrong thing in our hearts.
Let’s look in on ourselves
with cameras.
Surveillance all over the city.
Let’s watch each other mean.
The spirit of God has no business on Earth.
Control their lives and they’ll submit
to our little dictatorship.
As soon as it’s ready you’ll see.
We will get you.
Laid back Pondicherry,
we’ve got other plans for you:
a Hindu initiative.
Listen to the writing on the wall
BJP.
Peaceful Pondicherry
in God’s hands.
Direction:
let’s ramp it up,
the realization of God in everyone’s lives,
the flowering of everyone’s humanity.
No dogmas—
you are on the road to self-discovery.
You will reach down deep inside
and find your wherewithal with Earth,
and find your true self.
That’s where we’re goin’.
We have to start somewhere.
Let’s start standing up to the BJP.
This part of myself
I will turn towards the light.
Do you see the spirit?
You’re not pointing fingers
like some moral crusader.
Hey man that’s me,
and I’ve gotta respect myself,
whoever you are.
That’s the lesson plan.
That’s how we do it.
Harm's End 