He’s Alone in There with Kids

photo by Donny

Vilifying that like he deserves to be shot.
Wait, wait, wait,
you’re officially allowed to speak.
He took me to pizza, I played the flute.
He was now.
Divine values fill my room.
I’m a nut
etched deep into the ground of being.
You won’t find me in stores.
I’m all there is.
I mean there’s only one of me.
I sudden.
I hold mops and brooms.
I clean myself first.
I have everybody to think of.
Do you know that?

It’s hard.
Everybody’s away from you.
There you are,
and I’m gone.
You’re everybody’s baby except those who find you not. [heard sung in the voice of Joni Mitchell to tune of “Carey”, the lyrics “Oh you’re a mean ole daddy but I like you”]
“The Bell Spirituality” has kicked off the game,
with your husband.
I am
very different,
a radical revolutionary.
To be honest with yah,
I want the halls of justice to come tumbling down,
schools to close.
Do it now
in my ear.

American justice,
that’s branded in shame.
It’s not like we own up to it.
Do you know what shame does to a car?
It humiliates it,
and we have no car
that gives us a good run.
They’re seething with social justice,
and we rape them
in the halls of the system.
That’s good?

Now let’s go behind bars.
You mean men,
terrible women.
Social equality here.
Can we manage them?
I think we just snake/choke them. [words spoken simultaneously]
They’re made to feel sheep.
They’re piled on one another.
We’re pressing them into the ground.
We want them to have bad feelings.
It’s a social club.
They’re down and dirty to each other.
Nowhere you can run.
You’re limited in your freedom
to a jail cell.
How’s that for size?

They sting.
They put you in touch with yourself
so you want to kill people,
rob society.
How many get out and do that?
They’re horrible places to eat.
Their food is mixed in blood.
They are encountered in shit.
We can’t get them to eat good life force.
It’s not there.
The guards emit it,
tonnes and loads of ill will.
You’re just treated badly
all along the line.
Now let’s rape and kill shall we?

I don’t think you know what you’re doin’.
It’s ugly.
It’s so stupid.
Yet you wish this on people,
either that or kill them.
You think justice is done.
You’ve just hamstrung society.
I don’t event think you see us as a society.
We’re just individuals going our own way.
You pilot them
with a gun.
Law and order
means violence.
Great you say it works.
Like it’s falling apart.
It’s never worked,
but we don’t see that.
Justice is done.
The victims feel better,
like they’re avenged,
and we tell them
they have closure,
don’t we press?

Well what does that mean?
We’ve done all the wrong things to get better.
We’ve crucified someone for their sins,
I mean to the upmost extent of the law,
and we hate them doing it.
You’re supposed to feel that way;
it’s the law.
Now let’s go to gun.
Who has it now?
And you shoot and shoot and shoot.
These are healing measures?
They took my son.
They did this to me!
Your pain is undeniable.
You must be cared for,
taken care of,
but we’d need to remind you of your humanity.
We can’t have you acting like an animal too.
You got me here?

What am I sayin’?
It’s not society we change it’s you.
Your attitudes of justice suck.
You think it’s right
to kill people
or get rid of them,
for doin’ wrong.
Of course, they’ve sinned.
Even if it makes it worse.
Even if it doesn’t work.
All the laws say so.
They’re just there to break.

You don’t change human nature with law.
You have to go to school for that.
In Saigon,
good morning.
These are American troops stationed in Vietnam.
These are American school children in their school.
Hello Vietnam!
They just rust there,
learning to oppress people,
kill their chickens,
rape their girls.
We’ll shoot them if they don’t comply,
burn down the village.
I think I saw a rifle there,
or I just wanna get mean.
We oppress and we oppress and we oppress.
I think I learned that in school.
There’s no teaching done there
on the right things in life.
It’s a mind game.

Let’s get our intellectual skills in order,
and we don’t even do that.
My what a waste school,
every single hour every single day.
We put our kids through
deeply - harming - mechanisms,
and we don’t even see it.
We put the recognition on the pedophile.
Can you see that?

Nobody knows the reality of school.
It’s a wham! bam! thank you ma’am!
I’ll open it—
systems of abuse.
No one’s happy there,
despite the location:
we’re socializing kids,
and that should be a happy project.
They have moments of school bliss,
but then a bully gets them,
or they fail a test,
any number of things
that the bliss can’t hide,
that it can’t even do away with.
We make schools like a prison house of rules.
This is a learning experience
they’re robbed of a chance to learn.
You’re not safe there.
You’re put in trouble.
Let’s pound a few heads,
that’s school curriculum
in its
we need the right answer.
Then?
They could care less the devastating effect on children
their laziness counts.
There it's meat.

Can you tell me what the three R’s mean to life
when you don’t even know how to treat people?
Let’s memorize the anatomy of a star,
take our science books and cram them
into our brain holes,
learn the math we’ll never use,
and hear the lesson
of the most intricate fields in life,
and we stand there rivals to one another,
strangers.
We just wanna get out and play.

Now there’s a mode of travel.
It just looks like play to us.
We’re not sure of it’s taco,
but we can learn that way,
innovative, creative
mind-posts
that know how to lesson the heart
and keep that animal under control
the right way.
I’m not tryin’ to take your freedom.
I have some good things for you to eat
in a background
of why don’t you ask
instead of take?
I’m socializin’.
Can we make friends?

Alright corporate manager,
your employees are getting the shaft.
Now Julie you take the role.
I think capitalism knows better
if it’s taught at school,
and climate change can find out,
and there it is.
Alright Mr. Hairy Policeman,
put down the gun.
Alright victim,
now you take the role.
You see what I’m gettin’ at.
Play.

We have a whole field to cover,
all of life’s rooms.
We can get creative,
and you know we can improve school.
Is that all we’re doin’?
I think it’s an extremely localized concept.
So much smaller matters.
We can get down to business
on a street block,
in a farm circle,
and we’re goin’ to school with neighbors, you know?
A very localized concept
would bring it down to science.
We can get our hands on it.
Spaces large enough
for a small classroom,
I think they’re probably preexisting.
You got this big den.
There’s the gym,
any number of places,
modified to fit need that’s all.

Teachers are emissaries.
They know how to spot students.
Okay, you, you and you,
let’s spend some time on algebra
or differential equations.
Can you do calculus?
I think you need the science book
in those holes in your head.
They’re trained to spot individual learners,
and that’s the secret of school.
Your inner abilities are brought out.
Where you’re geared in life,
that’s where you go.
It’s made to fit you
as the group does its thing,
and you’re in it.

You see what I’m tryin’?
This is a much better society.
It works.
It’s around the corner,
if you can put it there.
I’m seein’ it,
and I’m certainly not the only one.
Gotta get it in the zeitgeist,
and there’s a whole lot to overcome.
We have to change human beings,
whole societies of them.
You don’t know what I mean.
They can’t be changed.
It’s impossible.
Well let’s drop some acid and see.
Just kidding,
but you know,
there might be something there.

Anyway how do you change a hungry man,
an abused woman?
That’s the formula stick out.
It’s what we’ve been tryin’ to do all these years,
but we didn’t know where change bring you.
We just wanted better people,
and all our tries make us worse.
Where do we go for change?
Well, a rocket poem can help.
You know of all the arts,
poetry puts your head on.

We can sing too,
or ballet,
get down in every art.
That’s the medium our social change.
It gets the word out there
in creative heartbeats.
It moves you,
and we begin.
The right stuff,
it’s the market today
in a heartfelt poem.
Hello there.

Don’t say it—
he believes it could only be said in India,
anything we say.
What’s the wrong with you?
That’s the horrible speakin’ God.
This is the dosa mavu
that wants to put our crisis on the table.
What’s he doing?
He’s making comment.
This is what control their will,
I mean in a big time:
etched deep into the ground of being,
where we meet each other
on the ground in India,
is a horsefly;
9/11
happened in India.
Stop wearin’ that.
Your minorities don’t threaten your existence,
see some master plan
to unHindu everybody.

The part that I played,
I was tryin’ to get the world to see itself.
Fact cutters,
that came the other day
to throw me outta my room,
and I belong there,
and I’m an American
living in India.
I’m a parent there
outspoken in my room.

You outta see it.
You can’t be
any kind of whistleblower
2022.
One second.
I want all rice.
I want the world to end
it’s regional languages rule the day.
I want to believe in humanity.
You got me dog?
That was the doctor.
Forget something.
Somebody call me a monster—
I’m gonna make you pay;
you process
the abuse of children.

For one thing I wouldn’t hurt them.
No, but I have a plan.
Vietnam,
I wanted to get into the thought good.
A police car is outside. [spoken in the voice of Mithun in a vision where he’s coming in from the balcony saying that, and I’m going to see if one is]
This is dangerous.
Can you respect that?
What’s the point of it?
There you have it,
a poem to change minds.

But the Corporations, Human After All

Coca Cola Commercial – I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing (In Perfect Harmony) – 1971. YouTube channel Shelly Kiss

Poet’s magnificent phase,
I’ve got a better business model.
See the ground work?
Will they catch the spirit?
No.
So what in the world is going on?
A blog post,
now that’s goin’ on.
You brought it up.
Just put it on harm’s end,
and Coca Cola will be,
be their commercials.
They almost art.

You’re going after
big monster,
you’re gonna hear the whole song.
That’s executive Coke.
I do believe you have your organization.

When you identify with them,
it’s like watching a robot.
They just can’t help it.
Government services
will only draw pennies.
Don’t drink their milk.
Broke the standard
arrest them kill them.

I don’t know you put an incubator there.
It’s a house of love.
They can’t leave till they learn it.
Goodwill breeds goodwill.
You’re dealing with character change,
you must respect
the enormous obstacles in their way.
I’ve given you the formula.
See how Norway checks it out.

But you’re talkin’ about now.
You can have it,
something on the lime machine,
a screw you piece of paper,
and that won’t solve anything.
How do you bark?
Now let me study this problem please.
Wew, these people I’ve got to reach.
Can you show them your humanity?
Don’t just walk away.
Be engaged with them.
Let them go through all the stages of friendship together.

You can do that in your writing.
Target maturity spots,
a senior executive,
or someone just vocal
about being a harm product.
Why don’t we have organizations gathered in peace?—
friendship quests,
a center of goodwill.

How do you probe this?
With the feats of your heart.
I’m talkin’ genuine concern
for the person you want to reach.
Enough of you do that they’ll listen,
and even if they don’t
you’ve made inroads into safety.
Some of them
will answer your call,
and you’ve got a horse in a moving body for change.

Can I get you to see this?
It’s the way we do it,
take on the corporations.
We’re dealin’ with each other’s stuff.
It grabs us all.
Patience my dear friend and you’ll remember.
I was such an asshole to my niece wasn’t I,
or I have somebody I treat like shit.
It takes eyes to see
we’re all in this together.

When you crawl out of the community,
what’s you thinkin?
Won’t these voices
cross this bridge with me?
Identify with the people.
That means love.
You have to really identify.
That’s what you’re doin’ here by the way,
learnin’ how to bring love in every picture.
Can you grasp that?
It’s our mission in life.
Do you hear me Steven?

The Killer Find

The Killer Find

In whatever comes our way.
After eighteen seasons it’s so funny though.
I bet you
I responded.
Leave the characters alone.
We’re windows,
pure margin.
We’ve a back part.
Halfway finished you want to throw me away.
Who me?
It was hard gave him a lawyer.
This is a transcendent poem.

Wait a minute,
is my life short?
Barely here.
It seems you don’t want to think for the psychopath.
You tell me.
His therapists are his words:

I don’t come down easy.
I’m a middle man.
I like killing.
You can see it in their eyes when you shoot them:
life has meaning.
I’m instructed to go.
Good girl.

Limitation’s my ink.
I can’t express the dying word.
My favorite is the surprise face.
They look at me so dumbly.
Maybe it would sound better if you play with it.
Who?

I’m laughing in front of their house.
I will take whatever I want.
You give it to me.
I’m not drowning.
I’m a full on power.
Your life gives me whatever I need.
Your life is my answer to life’s boredom.

Man, I’ve had to please,
grovel up to the paycheck.
Man I’m big.
They don’t know what power has come their way.
The person I kill sees my importance.
That’s the way the Gods speak to you sister.
With me have some understanding.
No, I haven’t found Them.
But I will put on after.

It’s gonna be tough
To get him outta there.
There’s the joy of the free ride.
Oh I’m sorry,
The police found your tracks.
I come distinct from them.
You are their calling card.
Some of them,
your attitude they share,
though on a different path.
You kill to fulfill delight.
They do under the guise of duty.
It’s a humiliation law code.
They don’t actually need to kill.
Yeah you know it.

Released from crime,
whose letter’s not interesting or significant,
the psychopath sits in jail and thinks:
contact with other people,
is this the word Kim’s back?
You know all shades of restaurant, right?
I’m glad because you’re going to marry me.
Kim is his split personality.
Kim is slightly easier to get along with.
Kim has a plan in his head:
he can play the game
whilst he’s in prison.

The environment,
the basest emotions are given free reign.
He just erupts on Ginger Ale.
Meanwhile he has a little house
beyond the reason
unfolding in his soul story.
This house beauty knows the price of.
It is beauty’s tool.
Beauty can find this arm.
This is mastery’s circle.
Those in care of him
did we want there?

Let’s not open our mouth wide.
We can keep him right here.
We can do our level best to control him.
No one is pushing us otherwise.
Why isn’t the government doing something for him?
Oh my God I just had the weirdest look.
You batted my elbow.

Let’s call in the hotshots.
Go out searching homes I’m already home.
And what’s this crime carrier do?
He acts as a closing agent.
He solidifies the type.
It’s his mercy in prison.
I’m mean this guy has feelings.
They’re all sharpened up.
You wouldn’t believe how mercy he is.
Oh I know;
I can’t seem to find mine.
You kill that fish.

Gold is one of the most dangerous places.
My wife distributes many mountain climbers.
But you won’t let him see the mountain
nor marry my wife,
a river whose flow is words.
Come in,
No one wants to play babe I’m sorry,
no one wants to play.

That refused my song.
I couldn’t bend in the knees.
This is not to your bureaucrat.
This is to that reach in you
that answers prayer.
Anybody can bow to reach a God.
I’m calling on your special stuff.

What’s the time?
Nine thirty-two.
What’s this I want?
Process change.
You forgive me
the hands call
words you don’t like.
That would mean a different arrangement for his answer.

His body you’ve kept in buffalo tape.
The body is getting just to ten.
With the body move on ahead.
Alright time’s up.
Maybe it was too complicated.
I’m trying to tell you
that there’s a river in that man,
a natural born therapist,
that will take him outside the jail house
a lover of humanity.

It looks better with Me inside the point.
I am divinity in Man.
I am his first answer.
The soul is not a piece of plastic.
It has a divine outgrowth.
It calls My name in secret.
It is My pages heal your story.
I know the ways of the world,
am master of existence.
The universe I hold in the palm of my hand.
Its every movement My gaze understands.
The Sun measures My name,
is a symbol for its splendor.

I sit atop this man and await your law to give way.
He will not find Me on his own.
He cannot cargo that answer.
Necessity will not hold his hand.
Handsome him with love,
make beauty his living room,
surround him with those who know their land,
and from behind the heart My representative will sing to him
all the measures of his life
put into harmony’s window.

Hearing this high speech
the Gods will rainbow their messages.
He will be an open vessel for universal lore.
Healing streams of light will come to him from the stars.
The moon will glow in his notebook.
The darkness inside him will not know where to hide.
It will be vanquished with the coming dawn.
This I can do in him
if you let him see his own worth.

I enter the country late
because this man is a monster to you,
and you will not see him home.
Now use lovelier powers
to bend his knees,
ones that call from the house of love.
You have grappled him down in hate.
What a wooden start.

Kid, you murdered a family.
This is who we kill.
All wrapped up in mourning
the family lies slain.
Existence has been robbed of its joy.
That loved one’s face stole the sun.
Madness crawls on their hours threatening touch.

What’s the matter?
My temple is gone.
Here is life’s sweetheart.
We bridge reality with this,
a smile that passes by?

Our loved ones are borrowed customers.
They are characters in a plot.
They sooth our need awhile and move on.
We think them a reality’s ship.
One little curtain closed can undo our lives.

What management is this?
What fools we are prey to death.
The heart has deeper need
than its animal holdings.

We pause here on the brink of life’s meaning.
Wisdom,
it’s applicable;
it’s up to you.

Matter fills every corner.
We cannot surround its view with anything else.
God even is of this make made.
Our understanding of Him is material.
He is a material agent not a spiritual cause
in our view of God acting.
He acts; He moves; He speaks
a material outlook.
God can be otherwise,
but we would have to brush name aside,
see past its formula,
the useful path,
to something larger than name.

There’s a family in these woods.
We can bridge the gap to God.
God can wear their face.
Then we begin to be circled by love,
when God wears every face in the crowd.
The loved one is just a familiar particular,
an intimacy we can hold
clasping Him.
Death only rearranges His face.
But God is deeper still.

God has a beckoning plan.
Here, some side paragraphs you should know.
This is deep today.
What are we supposed to do?
Grief, you will have problems there.
Eyes trapped.
Let them know where to stand.
A senseless killing is a teacher still.
Deep it will hold you open to reality.
There is your existence swim:
you can see beyond time.

Life has more fields of study.
We receive again our loved one.
This face in death God wears.
God is a surrounding look.
God is our surrounding cause.
The meaning of life is a parable
these eyes unfold.

My foot’s out.
I can’t keep score.
This poet has found bankrupt as his last measure.
I cannot keep God’s vision in my sight.
These eyes are the toughest to hold.
The Unseen all around us,
the very issue of our existence,
and the world looms larger still.
Our daily bread becomes the story-line,
or a major left in sin.

I had come to speak a word of Silence.
Chaos has erupted in my song.
The killer knows these waters.
He can see no large eye of God.
The world presses in on him
its sideshow of the blind alley scene.
He cannot see out of its dim tale.
Nowhere has he found knowledge close.

All run to a savage dawn.
Man has no larger purpose than this:
there’s a world out there;
take it.
Do it now reads the signs
along the roadsides of his life’s little spurts.
All seek the same need,
a vague point lost in advertising.
War rumors his world.
The daily news is a glowing red
convincing you the world’s on fire,
convincing you of your need to fear.
He can read the papers:
every man for himself.

The good that men call society,
he’d seen its vision’s sweep.
Huddled in a little courtroom called monster
he was its prey.
It hung debasement around his neck.
This was where social disease
spread out into the land.
He banked on this loan.
He hoped no greater glory
than to be the system’s plague.
Society would find death in him.

We can vision out this story.
Its huge eyes cry sight.
Where in this is God’s encircling sun?
In the moment you laid eyes on Him.
Can you top this vision?
No measure knows its score.
Error cannot blind its sight.
Error defines it more.
I mean to put reality above God
it results I cry in my own mess.
God shines through his shiny overcoat.
He can wear a mistake too.
Here in harmony’s reach I can clean it up.
A killer’s no less a man.

One key feature is that sometimes you make a mistake life for.
You’ll have to turn yourself save me.
Another orgy from that.
Okay, alright?
You would threaten?
Up here, alone, encouraged, and again we encounter God.

Wildlife management,
I am a listening shelf.
The soul is not a sword.
It holds us together.
It is our flight suit.
We pull the answer
from behind,
all along our heart’s show.
This is our bank card:
the promise of a better land.

The heart is the particular keeper.
It waits on a pull from the outside
to respond to its purpose.
This is not its better arrangement.
When we close off life’s customers,
when we come together on our own land,
alone in life’s cell,
we can manage its whereabouts,
we can find divinity’s room.

This is our soul keeper,
what banks in us on divine gold.
It makes no commerce with life’s heart.
It cherishes only divine holdings.
Our divine outreach,
where we find divinity’s wings,
is a cavern deep and wide,
a long fall to the reach of it.
The flame that you find there
will be the wonder that you seek.

This is the divine representative in Man,
the soul-flame.
It evolves with our common start.
It waits for union with the soul above,
the divinity we are
high above ourselves.

It is this link,
this psychic fire
literary,
that is our spokesman for healing change.
It sings to us that endeavor.
We know no outer managing overview.
This is our directing circle
we write ourselves.

Help me organize this arrangement
happily furnish the need
a teacher
from divinity’s schoolbook,
a divine name to give you lesson.
It is the soul makes this choice.
Though they seem the Sun itself,
they are not the goal only its keepers.
In time your own Sun will shine through.

I’ve given you direction.
Here you go to process change.
Bring this soul round to the front.
Make the psychic leader of the life.

I don’t know if you understand me but
I’ve shown you where healing can be found.
No, you don’t have to do that,
be under the guidance of a supervising counselor,
attend meetings,
undergo any type of special training.
We receive this change alone.
Those on the outside awaiting results,
they do not deliver the baby.
They are support vehicles.
They help manage our affairs.

You will see the soul is particular.
It does not make the same wardrobe for all,
not exactly,
but it does use
a similar vocabulary of symbols
when it talks to us.
Someone who has passed this bridge
of word-wise
– thank you ma’am –
can give us meanings clear.
You don’t want them to stand around.
A little bit different
than a guide,
they keep their noses out of it.
Their sentence help we need with words and phrases.
The whole we do not give to them.

Now look,
okay I’ve spent
years listening
processing this change.
Keep going.

My sight here seemed to call over completely retractable ideas.
That camera,
comic that look?
Yeah, where is it?
A demon’s laugh is graphic.
Discernment
will be your growth rate.
A divine smile
has a heartbeat.

Listen,
you have a top priority,
a process change.
Lore has not this freshness.
Watch the road here.
It’s wide open.

Come to the river half dry
and you won’t be parched enough to hear it sing.
Dry off before you go in there.
Emotionally wet from the world,
we will hear desire’s holdings
if the ears can find the speech at all.

You know where I stand?
Behind your thought.
It is a trance vision
in the proximity of sleep.
You are awake to hear its call.
Inside the bell tolls.
There is no thought to the arrangement.
Thinking disrupts the process.

I’m sorry if listening stills.
We must accustom ourselves to its strain.
You come to it by degrees.
Your life must quiet to its measure.
The field of your difficulties is the better answer
than the retreat getaway.
You want to hear your problems.
This becomes the greater challenge
and the special key:
you quiet your life in the noise of life,
and you process your change in its tromp and strife.

Mastery has its brand here.
I’m a letter on healing nearing its sum.
The listening smile,
calm it brightens its world.

A summit answer,
we cannot process its plenitude.
There’s something wrong.
We can’t get over our outrage.
Debasement lies squealing.
Our basest reactions hold us here.
The psychopath is only a measure of his world.

Society knows no sitting station.
It has no examining review board.
The pack mentality governs its field book.
Disguised as law and due process,
they wreck havoc on human justice.
If it has become more sensitive,
it is because it is more aware of itself,
but revenge is still our answer to crime.
Our ethics have not evolved beyond this.

I sing to you its appointment,
the beginnings of a nobler race.
This has been a longing since the day we were born.
It has smiled upon us from afar
even when we’re at war.
We know this future ours,
however many disclaimers the times show.

I’m telling you it’s cold out there
in this waiting room of today.
Wait until you see society’s sharp teeth.
Then you understand.

Every once in awhile we’ll get a call from them,
the seekers after goodwill
as the governing agent of society.
They have each given formula –
medicine.
This medicine watch it,
it’s not applicable in time.
Its feet do not touch the hours.
It relies too heavily on outer stress.

We capitulate to the call
of that greater need within,
our hearts calling in stillness
to the reach above,
a medicine we long for.

Being a moment on change,
wonderful that outlook.
Human divinity,
it’s applicable.
Each holds this in store.
The time will bring it home to all of us.
Here, it is within reach.

How can you cry without salt?
What a grim life thou hast gotten a hold of.
They left building a city aside.
They arranged for killing room.
They can’t habit this gown.
Prison has them standing still,
a monster without a head to eat.

We review your killing.
It got menopause.
You deny our circle of trust.
I am the divine buoy in your harbor.
You are rich with sea salt,
carry the load of your number of kills.

There in the sudden door you find him.
It was in a back alley wasn’t it?
He had barbecued his drink.
Death stained his blood.
He said such stupid things.
He was black water.
You burned his ease.
It was a hollow kill.
He wasn’t straight on.
That laughed in your notebook.
We wasted your hour.
You cannot feel what you have done.
Pity you should remember him.
This felt not your power.
Pity you understand.
Well I…

Let’s leftover this man.
He was not in harmony’s circle.
He thought that you had won.
Death took him by the hand.
He understood at once the reason for beers.
The light brought him out of it.
He’d paid his green card.
There he lay still.
It was a meditative dawn.
His glory is your surprise.
Can you see past dawn?
You thought you’d murdered hope.

We journey to rivers.
This man will see his private hell.
Burdened with this autopsy
hope could lay its hands on him.
Such is the river’s run.
And there we pass out his trust.
On the inside we work a slow outer change.
The epiphany will one day see the Sun.

Put their sleep to school.
I listen.
Only after they come up with
the only answer to life:
grow.

Who am I going to come back to?
Not oven.
Meditative answers are coming.
I give you a lot to think about.
What are we looking for?
You’re in the bigger place.
You want to learn how to study bottom answers,
have a heart in the darkest part,
in feeling catch on.
I take a photo album with me,
those I operated upon.

Find the big change.
It’s in your river bed.
I leave it in your notebook.
You can fieldwork this change,
make it come out.
Guidance your river brings.

This is a crawl hole,
your insistent hostility.
Understand it as other then you.
Understand it as an attitude.
You can pencil it out.
This you have to hold at bay.
It will lessen by degrees.
When we indulge it,
operation,
the killing room,
or you just wait for the next victim.

This has us all bottled up inside.
A river can wash it down.
Hey look, come here.
I’m not going to get you for this.
If I ask you
throw it out,
can you do that?
A river answers why
hostility you answer.

Shrimps are eating politics.
That was your father years ago.
Hey children is disturbing.
Can’t live in the greenhouse.
I’ve got a lower angle.
I get physical.
Grab you by the neck I can.
Murder I wrote in the air around you.
You seemed to slip by love.
You had no comforting arm.
Life was a bare blade
to your infant heart.

We meet selfishness from even mother’s hands.
Can you hit the ball?
Some many things to watch.
What so many things?
Your environmental scorecard and your world review,
the inside does what in their presence?
The meaning lay behind the words.
Jump to its scaffold.
How many visions see red?
I can climb down in importance.
Place the notebook in sky hands.
Climb it to the top of the equation.

Believe me,
that’s what it’s coming to,
that high place.
And remember,
You are a spirit.
God is the value of it.

You almost put me to sleep.
I must be bigger than that.
To the thing that owns me
I do,
I throw it out.
A sharp division here.
This man makes a path.
He has risen above his danger issue,
but he is in need of trust.
He could slide back.
If you was justice you would hold my hand.
There his answer waits.

It’s just hard to tell the difference.
If it doesn’t tell deep
it has not understand.
I opened his house on change.
There’s an understanding castle
near sleep he builds.
We come together all along world lines.
We would not want to harm its view.

What’s left to do here?
How finish we gotta go?
You haven’t filled out the map yet.
Where is your food bar?
Cooking for the meat last time.
Now you’ve changed to a diet of soft sand,
what’s this the world’s about.
That has your hat in oil.
It doesn’t leave you peace clean.
You need to be clean.
Of all the knowledge
I gave you
you haven’t come out of the pool yet.
Everything like a boy,
everywhere.

An interchange,
I went ahead and added it.
Get that space off your face.
A remote control
it’s pretty obvious.
You just succumb to influences.

We move towards a deeper circle.
Spirituality issues its day.
Have a plan to remember.
Drink this all day long
crash point to zero.
I would’ve held you all night.
He ran off before I was sleeping.
You should take this point home:
have a hand on desire
no reach there for Me.

To settle fell, interesting of a company member.
Some things are just powerful
and can even overshadow the divine rally.
You want to learn to hold your bread.
Move in the daytime as if I’m beside you.
Sleep as if I’m in your arms.
You choose a way
To put Me in your driving car
so that your thought lights up your process
in terms I am laid down
magnetism.

You have to believe.
My floor not has you sleeping.
Matter is your waking tool.
In this prison you see My consistency.
In My reach you are.

I would certainly want it so.
I’d like to be here.
I’d like to have.
You’ve heard it.
Now you must bring what you hear into your living room.
Focus on the heart.
We bring the soul around to the front.
As a soul you meet the higher stations.
I have given you in peace.
Now it is your work to bona fie its real.

Why didn’t he answer?
He went into the shop.
So I won’t hear what’s up there?
A heart sound
shinning through.
You want to know you’re sorry.
You have a map.
You want to find anything you just
begin to look for it.
Your need will determine here.

Like I said,
The more concentrated,
the more you are put together,
the more you are given room.

Don’t worry,
I know voice.
I will teach you how to find it.
Now give to Me
your managing equation,
what you snap to in your night of light,
your own accord.
The divine embodied in human everywhere
has given Me a name,
the divine in Man,
a good news.

Have a singing mixture.
Use a strategy.
You get the Overframe:
the knowledge
a divine beauty
sitting in his own
divine station
will give you.
Your soul chooses this answer.

A foul use here,
demons.
You need to study
and know the difference between a wake song
and a diabolical need.
One smells funny.
It has not the genuine concern.
A quiet demeanor
will be your living tool.

Normally I get off this tape,
this chariot wheel,
and become to you a living frame of deity
your day revolves around.
I am not your frame of worship.
There are two frames here.
God can be your encompassing reality,
your special program of worship.
Name has an order here.
He will grow larger,
eventually,
as understanding beckons.

Bona fide results of the first ticket:
you find God.
The second no one knows.
The One is this storybook,
a code no idea can crack.
We hear Him a personality in the hours,
that which sustains us,
a half-light nonetheless.

A mystery bigger than creation,
it is God’s tabernacle,
his field of worship.
Even consciousness cannot account for its sum.
There is no greater field of play.
The One is your absolving window.
Your wrong can find reason there.
In its totality quarter
it is the basis of all deed.

Don’t condemn your process to their hands:
we’ll make you pay for this.
They have nothing original to say.
Solution does not open its schoolbook to them.
The payment for your crime
you will dole out in your effort for change.
Such is the master code.
Your will to change is your effective tool and special look.
Regard the world with its purpose.
Come to the garden without this
and you will not enter the gate.

A circumstance is just an opportunity for its progress.
We manage defeat this way.
Understand the need for change
and it comes in your courtyard.
Walk it into your house.
I am its gardening arrangement,
the divine in your own smile.
Look to Me your divine rose.

You wondered a long time without an aim.
You got lost.
Society,
I went up to comfort her,
make her feel better.
This is the Principal speaking.

We don’t have the play station;
He has the play station.
You let the killer run lose among us.
I do not arrange his deed.
He is your order run amuck.
This is My witness.
Give change.

Go to talk with your grandmother,
a divine field book.
Don’t bend your knees before a wooden god.
Life is not your throne.
Let’s keep it
this is no ordinary game.
You are founded on ambush
to show you God in the impersonal hours.

Don’t walk again you’re going to fly.
Don’t worry about it.
There’s proof inside
where the heart of the question lay.
You need to come out of your canteen,
your desire’s arrangement.

I had a holding plug missing.
I couldn’t see for the pollution.
They’re calling you for fifty-nine.
That will be fifty-nine up there.
Wake up that number on you.
We arrive on healing number.
Your field of play is material wealth.
You fail your hours
you’ll have your hydrogen peroxide back.

Buddy this is it,
how to put your foot in the door.
You wanna fly folks
– come on –
through a divine opportunity.
This is exactly
the basis of all our arguments.
We don’t wanna promote any specific religion.
Problems result for everybody.

Yes but if you can process change
you can find you can be diversified.
There’s a unified answer.
You have something to read to us.
You tell us what it is you report on.
This is healing.

A healing outcast
is your ticket on change.
You took it,
the things he held dear:
family,
his country,
a place in society,
his hope.
Was to the point that They came,
divine beings,
and showed him how the rivers run.

He processed hope
that We gave him.
It’s like that.
A society,
from its outcast,
social change
will be brought into living picture.
You have a cornerstone here.

So much misunderstanding
when these things hit the streets.
A poem can be disruptive.
I tell them what’s wrong.
This is where I give back.
This is a pedophile’s field book.

I wonder,
all the lights and stuff,
will help the ignorant to see,
or you’ll hate me even more?
Duke,
all American,
I bring home the change,
strands of the common way.