Tag: racism

Some Violation of Boarding Pass

On By Donny Lee DukeIn PoetryLeave a comment 
A lot of things up there I don’t like to talk about.
It’s a mess up there,
and it chases your life.
I’m an idiot for believing it.
There’s no hope on this runway.
I can’t even see my dogs.
I lost all the people who matter to me.
They’ve taken me out of India
for a visa violation.
Can you imagine Dylan?

I had several minutes to pack.
Nithish came and we talked.
Everybody was crying.
No appeal allowed.
They were stone-hearted men.
The immediacy of the situation derailed me.
I was not prepared to go.
No one would listen to my pleas
just a few days please.
It was heartbroken.
The dogs were so confused.
Bruno knew.
The pain in that dog’s eyes, can it kill you?

Who knows
the price you have to pay for poetry?
I made the Auroville Foundation mad,
and they promptly got rid of me
and didn’t even show their face.
Their lackeys did it.
I’m going to shoot them tomorrow,
not with guns with their guilt.
Douglas and I are on a plane to nowhere.
We’ve been kicked out of our home.
I am over skies now.
I don’t know where I am.
I don’t care to.
I will never see my dogs again.

A few minutes to pack
after a life of 20 years.
No international rights,
what do you do with that
when your life-blood is on the table,
all your hopes and dreams?
Even Nithish’s parents cried,
and we all forgave each other.
So many crying people came to see up off,
and it didn’t move a cop.

This is land’s lamb,
a spoken inner voice,
and it will even tell on itself.
It won’t leave you alone.
To trust it is to invite paradise,
but hell is its price.
Pain and suffering slam me now,
and I don’t know what to do with that.
More poetry please.
Look I gotta get out of this ride.
Most things have to be deleted anyway.
I’m sorry.
Look it’s over.

What happened?
The government has cancer.
It only has a gun.
It breaks people’s hearts,
is only concerned with its name,
can’t see past its own nose,
is a bear eating people.
No one can call it on it.
You get in trouble.
They won’t let you talk.
When you give them a divinely inspired poem they get mad,
shoot the messenger,
tear apart his family.

What’s the wasted gun,
where I meet the government,
or where it meets me?
Hand that over
a hide and seek.
Show dinner now
how much bullshit serves me on myself,
or am I worth the life of this poet?

Plenty of people
have no pride.
It’s part of the hardship of life.
Do we let then in?
Do we let the haphazard come in?
They’ll throw it open like they’re dying without it.
They are not sincere.
They’re trying to get over on you whatever they can.
They can’t look you in the eye and say they’re sorry.
They’re all over the place,
a dim a dozen.

I need to know what that man’s like.
Test him some.
Come to his house and sit at his table.
Is there anybody but himself in his banyan tree
who are not satellite I’s of his solar I?
Can he have compassion?
Will he sacrifice
for those around him?
Is he a hope in humanity’s heart?
Does he genuinely feel the presence of others?
What does it take to make him smile?
Can you count lighthouse in him?

I’m askin’ the right questions
say you find an illegal immigrant.
These are the criteria we live by,
and he needs to show that.
Can I get a horseman here please?
We’re blowin’ humanity out of the water
throwin’ somebody out of the country
such as these.
An immigrant’s status
give the immigrant’s worth?

Look at yesterday.
They pull a poet
out of his home.
Because I didn’t read his poetry.
I listened to the bossman.
We celebrate this.
You’re at 1 o’clock.
Put more tickets through.
It’s all good.
Put the police upon the table,
and this defends a society
of Indian spirituality?

Our family there were told that the Secretary of the Auroville Foundation, Jayanti Ravi, filed a police complaint against me for the past three poems on this blog, which are about Auroville. Four men came to our house, all in civilian clothes, and only one would show his ID, the one from immigration, whom it’s reasonable to assume that they brought just in case there was a visa violation, and there was. Later, since I was holding out in my house, the regular police came.

Recently Auroville News and Notes reported that the Auroville Foundation has brought 15 members of the special police who are crushing dissidence in Kashmir to do that in Auroville. I suspect at least two of the men who wouldn’t show ID were them.

Pieces of Truth

On By Donny Lee DukeIn Poetry5 Comments
Donald Trump official portrait, 2025 (public domain)
Do me a favor,
blind yourself to where you don’t see.
There was an executive order here
that pit man against man,
shot men
and arranged to murder more.
Can we look at the oligarchy?

I’ve seen you in rivers of hate
you just think you put on for show.
Make a wide trench
and make that the border with Mexico
and fill it with orders and snakes,
great big alligators.
Did you say this to your aids?
The orders are to shoot people.
That’s illegal Mr. President.
Then shoot them in the legs.

I don’t think anybody understood that.
A mean joke you say.
It was the reality he thought about,
never mind the children that crossed too,
the grandpas and women with babies,
any ole human being that wants a better life,
and you said he was joking.
Let’s put the death penalty all along this land,
press people to use it.
We’re gonna make them pay
a blood lust so dear
you love the president for it.
I’d reach for the psychopath in the room
and don’t give him arms to kill people.

Can you see the character of a man that wants to kill?
That’s the president,
and you think he’s joking.
Let’s appease Hitler, shall we?
He hasn’t become the meanest man alive,
what we realized
after the fact.

Now ole Trump’s got an agenda.
It’s not to make America safe.
We put our egos where our mouth is.
America first means Trump first.

You don’t know the national politics
that makes your ego identify with its nation
like it’s you.
It’s a constituent landmass.
The ego is made up of such as these,
your gender your identity
or a race and a peoplehood,
sexuality if yours is the odd man out,
and the gas it all of religion.
I can name more.

Let’s put the most powerful nation on Earth
Trump first,
never mind the responsibility
of being your brother’s keeper.
Higher ideals no longer apply.
We are selfish and revel in it.
Fuck the world
you dirty bastards,
is that what this all means?

Is that how a kid sees it?
How many would share their toys?
I don’t think you’re lookin’ at the younger generation
and what this means to their grow up.
Can I kill people momma
if they make me mad?

Sit with yourself a moment.
If Trump could kill his enemies would he?
We’re talking about the character of a man
that lets hate rule his room.
Seething with ill will,
he justifies a nation.
It don’t come out right.

Can we cross this again?
History has put these men in power over and over.
You’re flattered.
He has the character you wear,
mean-mouthed,
hate this person and that individual.
Send them all back to China!
Okay you put the mass in power,
it’s not gonna be a good human being rules yah.
I think even the Bible makes deacons exceptional.
Now tell me again the Bible makes place for him.

I don’t think you’re lookin’ at dictators
that steal the hearts and minds of the mass
and just please your undeveloped, brass nature.
Every nation lives like this,
and that’s why we call it populist today.

Oh what pride the Nazis wore
in their cruelty,
in their disregard for human life
and diversity,
and they all wore the nationalism pin
and wanted you to behave like them.
Can we take a step backwards?
Can we just almost commit suicide
with the power we’ve given one man?

You don’t see it, do yah?
Look into his eyes.
There’s a killer there.
I don’t know what history will unfold,
but this man can’t be right
in the history books of tomorrow.
Revel in him now,
praise his name;
you’re on dangerous ground.
He’s got the end of the world in his eyes.
Can you see it?

No, he won’t stage that.
It’s just what he’s made of,
the world leader of selfishness
and this is mine.
He won’t bring the apocalypse,
nothing close,
but we will be so embarrassed
as Americans
when his power comes to a close.
MAGA hell,
he brought shame.

There is something
ninja.
He can walk around
clothed in a smiling president
and assassinate so many people’s lives
with deportation,
the death penalty,
and bring it on climate change.
Wow,
there is something.
He’s not my most selfish person in the world.
He’s not my most selfish.
To Earth
had this lion king thing,
except maybe I’ll get on the other side.
One caught right here:
definitely not a good person.

You’re not gonna find anyone to build your snowman for yah
that froze all cooperation missed their forgiveness key.
Can you see that children?
He just broke in my house
and stole all my transgender people.
They must evoke the 5th Amendment or die.
You’re gonna stay there
and hope we have policy changes on Earth.
I’m pregnant.
Oh my God the 14th Amendment’s in there,
right at the moment of conception.
I tell yah an embryo’s not a person yet,
even if they have the right to be.
You can’t see what you’re doin’,
takin’ the Constitution as the folly in the room,
what tells lies.

I’m sure you don’t like talkin’ to me,
but I’m the medicine.
It’s not that human
I’m talking about.
You got too much action,
storm as big as he is.
I think you and I see a woman
stand in our shoes.
Take themselves very differently.
That’s not a pedophile.
That’s a lover of children that does not molest children.

Don’t be so wrapped up in pronouns
or who’s speakin’ the poem.
You savvy a woman speak?

In his vital.
You don’t know the breakdown of the human being.
It’s not a mind and body problem.
A vital being fits in there
just as pretty as you please,
mitigating between the two.
If we knew this we’d understand gender discrepancies,
and we’d never discount the body.
I have a mental male,
vital female,
and physical male.
What do you got?
Do you see where it all adds up?
Don’t get mad at it
and cut if off.

Do you see the human being?
We didn’t go to the same place.
We went to the four winds,
and it was diversity made us equal.
Did yah hear me Trump?
Let’s put white Americans on top
by making sure they stay on top
and get rid of every program that don’t
put them there.
I’m callin’ the shots—
systemic racism.

I’ve gotta get off this island
and give the right blues for my speak,
and who do I address now?
The oneness body of the United States.
It’s bigger than the world.

It includes every man, woman, and child
in the world.
Can you see that oneness big?
Not in an amalgamated mass.
We give each person their personhood
and allow them to be Americans or whatever.
They’re just not more important than Nicaraguans
as human as they are,
but we know they can’t all be Americans.
We just differentiate with love not hate,
or at least goodwill.
Do you know the difference?

Inside a nation we see the world.
The nation’s not greater than it.
You’re just not lookin’ at the world right.
You’re lookin’ at it in terms of you,
like your ego’s your nation,
and you can’t even get that right.
No oneness circle there, is there?

Are you the center of the world or what?
It’s so complicated in here.
I’m standin’ right in the center of the world don’t you see?
And that’s the fault of everyone.
A common language like them best,
the same culture,
and we are so wrapped around skin color,
racial features.
Hello you there and me,
fellow white people,
or maybe it's
black people,
or all Native Americans.

Or maybe religion gets your dick?
We all come from the same hole,
and it’s a blessed hole, is it not?
We are oneness speakers,
how we identify with our beloved group.
They’re in the center of the world with us.
Are we just gonna drop oneness in the sand?

If you can identify with a nation you can identify with the world.
We are all there don’t you see,
in the oneness yard,
even Trump,
but not his hate,
no one’s hate.
A poem has made a bill of it,
showin’ the world his,
like it’s what he does the executive office with.
There it is.
Give him the shoes of a savior?
You’ve got to be kidding me.

If we get into the deep roots of the poem,
there’s an imbecile here,
and it’s not Trump.
I can see him so clearly because I’ve failed mine
in great dark rooms.
Shut up my speaker said;
you are so pleasing to your humanity now.
I’ve gotta tell yah
I don’t have room to talk,
but can we still meet at poem’s end
I’ve shown you some truth?
It doesn’t make freeways,
but it lights up a path, you know?
And we’ve got to get hate out of the room.
That’s the item we wear.
Do you hear me Trump?
A self-reflective nightmare,
I voted for this one.

Gardening deep in transition’s ways
a like broadcast.
Its own title
shows its inadequacies.
I don’t know how many people voted for Trump,
but I’ve offended half the nation.
Half the nation,
I haven’t pleased them in liberties.
I’ve just damaged their pride.
I’ve lost my way
they say.
I can’t get Trump right.

There’s a man there that loves his nation
and doesn’t want the government to interfere in people’s lives,
unless you’re a part of the groups he mentions
he thinks have slammed the nation
or committed heinous crimes.
He’s a figure standin’ up to tall water
and not afraid to speak his mouth.
He loves kin and family.
He champions Israel.
This is a good thing in a world that needs Israel,
and he sees the war with China
to make them back down
and be careful with him.
He’s not a filibuster
that excites for war.

He’s tempered there,
and he may bring the cost of livin’ down.

Part of me would vote for him too
if I didn’t have my eyes open on human nature,
studying you.
He’s mean he’s cruel,
and we don’t need that.
We need to be kind to one another
and learn how to get along.
Isn’t that what you teach your children
in Sunday School?

I think you’ve lost your moorings
from the true reason Christ came.
It wasn’t to judge the quick and the dead.
Now you’ve entered him into politics
like Trump represents him,
like you want to take over politics,
not likin’ gender fluidity
and gays teachin’ children
and another host of stuff,
but can you just stop a minute
and study right and wrong,
the fundamentals of it,
be good to one another,
not just your group or clan?

Do you really want a theocracy?
I know that
will destroy our nation.
I’m talkin’ to power.
It would take another three thousand years
to get it back
the way we wanted it,
people themselves have a nature like Christ,
and they get along.
Can you hear my foot school?
We don’t need against the law.
We need love one another
and be good to each other.
Isn’t that the law written on our hearts?

Goodness rises from within
when we open to the best in us,
the highest.
We need the liberty to do that,
because it’s trial and error with each of us.
It’s not a religion we are trying to cement on this planet.
It’s help your brother and love.
It’s be kind to your sister
and hold her up.
I know you want everybody Christians,
but where would that lead us
truthfully, honestly?
It won’t lead us there.
You’ve put Trump in that place
as God’s helper.
Okay is he there?
What attracted you to Christ to begin with?
Is that Trump?

Would you put Trump in God’s shoes
that’s the way God acts in the world?
Is that what you want your children to emulate?
Does Trump’s behavior satisfy some raw nerve,
or is it really the highest in man?
We need high right now not low
from our president.
Do you hear me now?

Those of Us Who Very Do Humanity

On By Donny Lee DukeIn childhood education, ego activism, PoetryLeave a comment
His mother at the Child Welfare Committee meeting
Nithish at the meeting, in-between tears
That’s for grown social media posts.
She’s unbelievable.
Look at her,
a stage in the groundwater.
The American field,
this is a story of S. Nithish.
That’s been the biggest disappointment in my life so far.
Will fill you Earth
that suffering.
Nithish is gone.

Two sizes too small,
India to deal with it.
I came I went I sorrow.
Let’s explode these pleasantries.
Demon monsters,
can you imagine,
rule over kids in Pondicherry?
You hear this mother beat her kid with ‘em.
No one will help me stop that,
and I can’t see my kid.
Stuff like this
you get away from.
You don’t entertain them with your kids.
Cruelty is as cruelty does.

How’d we do that,
let that happen?
The absence of miracle
might wanna tell you
there’s a mountain.
The boy’s in there.
Double helper,
somebody call Nithish one.
He will help me,
and there is a fantastic here,
and this is Auroville’s:
he will tell the story far and wide,
help evolution
so a kid don’t get beat
anywhere on Earth.

But India,
he’s gonna show to the world first.
She beats her children.
Her children get beat there,
and not a kid gets saved.
It’s normal for parents to beat their children in India
the Puducherry Child Welfare Committee told me,
and Nithish was sittin’ right there
cryin’.
You think that’s funny?
They were laughin’ with his mother afterwards.

Nowhere left to go.
There is not a person that can help me,
not anywhere on the planet.
You would not believe the list
I’ve bade to help me.
They’ve all laughed,
or if they felt empathy,
they just put it down.
It amounted to nothing more than a pencil spray.

No one helped
while I was crushed under the wheels of this revolving universe.
No one even thought they should.
I just sat there and died.
I’ve unlocked cruelty,
like it’s the bowels of the Earth.
People just showed it to me.
Never see my boy again,
like he’d been killed in a car accident.
The grief is the same.

A mother and father landed guilt.
I was their son’s first choice,
and this had been going on for years,
until their jealousy came to such a pitch
they decided to punish me for it,
punish their son too.
I would never see my boy again.
They knew the bond.

I did nothing wrong,
but they made me out to be a monster
trying to steal their son.
Everybody on the planet believed them.
I don’t even talk about
the underbelly of hell I went through.
Insanity grabbed my clothes.
Things I cannot speak about visited me.
I’m a seer you see,
wide open to the universe.

The divine I looked to to save me abandoned me.
Even my soul cried.
I was a baby for a moment.
I lost everything about me
and just became blind reaction.
I lost the whole world.
Everybody turned their backs to me.
This was horrible suffering.
I couldn’t get out of it.
I just swallowed of hell
as each day wore on.

You don’t know the price of suffering
when your boy is still alive and you can hold him
if but that people could feel your pain.
Why wouldn’t anyone let me?
The boy was not in a casket.
The mother reveled in this.
She made me pay for her inadequacies.
She shielded her son from me
by holding her hand over his face
or keeping him behind her
when meeting had brought us together.
No one questioned this
or thought it odd.
This was India at its worst.

That mother got her revenge
because I was a better mother to that child,
and everybody let her do it,
the Law,
the Child Welfare Committee,
the rule of India.
No one spoke of reconciliation or healing.
Fairness and wisdom were not to be found.
It was get that foreigner
and make him pay
for superior
being some question we ask ourselves.
Why would you use it?
Can we just get to development
with our humanity in our hands?

I don’t think you understand the price of cruelty.
It sums up our bad day.
It haunts us at night
in our dreams.
It makes us slap our children
because we can’t admit it’s there.
Can I show it to you?
I can’t see my son,
and you all agree with that
because I give you an opportunity to be cruel.

You can get away with it.
I’m not anybody special.
You don’t have to defer to me,
and I hold the foreigner’s worth.
That’s not quite a human being
with the locals.
Would you just principally see that
Tamil Nadu?
Hateful
right up to say Indian.

Cruel,
there’s not a name for it in India
they are just so cruel,
the Indians I called to help.
Have I overlooked you Masil Johnson?
You didn’t help.
You sure didn’t help.
One childhood,
did anybody stop that mother from toring it asunder?

I’m gonna have to look after civilians.
Madras Dyslexia Association will you come to help?
Everybody his mother beats him for dyslexia,
not just for loving me.
You’re like really stupid.
How many people say dyslexia here?
No, you won’t mention the abuse.
You don’t know how to handle it.
Parental rights,
even the welfare of the child is small in comparison.

You don’t even see mothers beating their children.
Nithish has that in arm.
The cruelty of his mother,
everybody look at this please.
Look halfway around the world.
You know America beats her children too.

Okay Nithish you’re up.
That’s my emergency.
You heard me.
Stop my mother from beating me,
come on.
Soon a major character,
where we stop kids from getting hit,
my little boy Nithish.

I got no out here to accept.
He got no in there to…
That’s your final.
He makes things right just by bein’ himself.
Our soldiers were held by death and many chisels.
Put that rocket ship.
He better India’d.
Can you give me a minute?
That’s bro what am I worried about?

He’s the only one that we want to hear.
He’s the only one that we want to help.
But the foreigner has challenged you.

Liberated me,
bright colors,
and he helped himself,
like a book report,
and he helped every kid in the world
the new statesman.
That’s the formula needed for world change,
the child stands up for himself,
and he’s Indian.
Bravo.

Are You Fear Comfortable with Me?

On By Donny Lee DukeIn childhood education, ego activism, PoetryLeave a comment
photo by the author
So you can go and tell on them.
That was Nithish’s muse.
He has purpose.
He has charm.
He has the call to action.
We’re gonna get this story read to the public.
What did they expect?
He had come so far.
They brainwashed him in the family.
He didn’t give them what they want:
to renounce me over the phone
in a controlled conversation.

I was emotionally distraught,
aggravated,
and it came across on the phone,
and then I calmed down
and talked to my baby dog.
He heard me.
I could hear his mother in the background
telling him what to say.
I mentioned everything I could think of
to get him to hear me.
We actually had a conversation.
I was able to tell him things his mother cut the phone.
They called back,
and the mother tried again.
I’m with them now
the boy said.
Do you want to see me
I asked.
He had already answered yes to that question
in the conversation ago.
No answer,
I asked again.
Yes he said.
I will move Heaven and Earth to see you again
I told the boy.

Do you love me more than anything in the world,
or was that a lie?
I wasn’t lying.
Do you want me to go back to America?
No
the boy replied.
Well I’ll do a hunger strike,
and I’m prepared to die.
The boy heard every word I said.
Hello again, I’m sorry baby dog,
I cannot live without you,
and I love you more than anything in the world.
Ask to see me.
Do not stop.
But they will not hear me.
Ask anyway,
and the divine will help.

The mother cut the phone again,
as I explained their brainwashing technique,
and then I talked to her.
He doesn’t want to see you
she said.
But you heard him say he did.
Leave it, leave it.
No woman I won’t.
I am not afraid to die,
and I will lay down my life for him.
On that she cut the phone.

Well here, here,
let’s have a toast
to her inability to brainwash him.
He was supposed to renounce me.
He did not.
Even in front of his mother
he admitted he loved me very much
and wanted to see me.
She had failed
in killing his love for me.
Now how’s that for an answer
to their control of him?
They don’t have it.
Isn’t that wonderful?
Love will find a way.

Thank you woman.
You are so very dumb
letting us speak like that,
and you know we love each other.
You really think the boy’s gonna lie for you?
He did not, did he?
And you are tellin’ him what to say.
I say again.
You did not control this boy
when it came down to it,
the very thing you’ve been punishing him for,
he loves his daddy
and wants to see him,
and all the restrictions that you’ve put on ‘im,
all the surveillance you’ve had him under,
all the control you’ve done to him,
telling him what to think,
how to act,
and how he should feel,
day and night on that boy,
has not worked, has it?
I’m still there
in that boy’s heart,
in that boy’s mind,
a living presence.
The power of love,
do you believe in it now?

Now we go from there.
I have his base.
I have his will,
and I will stop at nothing
to see him again.
That mother has messed up.
She gave us the very thing
we needed from each other:
validation of our love.
She has no idea what’s she’s doing
in keeping him from me.
It’s against his will.
It’s against his plan.
It’s against his life’s purpose.
It hurts this boy so.

So what do we do with that?
Hello Pondy do you recognize me?
I am a public speaker.
I want to show you child abuse
where the parents get away with it
because no one will listen to the foreign man.
You think that’s right?
Well here let me show you how I do things,
in video after video,
and can I show you this story?
Follow my Facebook page.
Now who’s listenin’
I ask the interviewer.
Will you help this boy
become himself again,
step out of systems of abuse
and let his daddy heal him?

Okay Pondicherry we put you to the test.
It’s a public ride.
Do you care about this boy?
Why have the parents taken all his rights?
Do they have the right to abuse him?
Do I have no rights as a parent?
And I have been raising him for years.
Wait ‘till you hear why they took ‘im,
on impulse,
for a bad story they did,
and I called them on it.
It’s all on Facebook.
Just look and see
Donny Lee Duke.

Now we’re goin’ somewhere.
He listens to me,
and we are there:
we get to see each other again.
We get to be together,
and we can heal wounds.
Thank you Pondicherry.
I know you care about children,
and I didn’t even have to hunger strike.
I just got interviewed by a member of the press,
and we took this story wide.
Now that’s business.
That’s coffee,
and that’s how you shame two parents
who have been evil to their child.
You give them a public face,
and suddenly the sex video they made of their child
doesn’t look for fun anymore.
It looks awfully deep,
their betrayal of their children
in their parenting room.
Do you hear me Pondicherry?
You will.

This is the sudden story
that shows you how to raise children,
and that’s not with a bat with a glove.
They get the best treatment
because they are our future,
and they do not live for us.
They live to be themselves
in the future God has put them on Earth for,
their soul’s purpose in time.
That Pondicherry
is why we raise children,
to bring a better Earth
to the love that they’ve found God,
atheists included
in this survey.
We just go the highest we can go
in bringing a human being to the heights of humanity.
That’s that little child you know,
and here, here,
we let them grow.
Any objections?
I thought not.

Well let’s go.
This little boy needs your help,
and we are waiting.
Thank you God.
Thank you world.
I knew I could count on you,
and it’s over.
We raise the world that way.
That’s how you do it.
I agree with that.
We put the night we lie in
in that abuse.
Do they play with his toy?
No it’s not pumped.
It’s not his genitals they play with.
They play with his mind.
I’ll never go over here
to sleep,
where I’m soft and warm and comfortable
at daddy’s house.’

He lies there awake at night
wondering at the enormity of his loss,
and the hope and the despair
rob his mind of sleep.
There they abuse him
in the night’s deep.
If you listen really closely
you can hear him cry
Oh God why have you done this to me?
I thought I was your child.
And his faith is gone,
and the night’s this huge monster
that gives him nightmares.
Great the feelings play
along being’s edge
to make him want to die.
Do you hear this Pondicherry?
Listen closely.
This boy needs our help.
Will you just let him lie?

What do you do with that?
Let’s go in the kitchen and think some,
drink some coffee.
You know that is a velacara man.
Do you do this to our own kind,
let a foreigner raise the alarm?
That’s the real question here,
isn’t it?
The abuse is secondary.
Whether it’s Hindi kidnappers
or a velacara man,
you will not blame yourselves for your own stolenings.
You need the world to change.
Alright Pondicherry,
let this boy and this man be together,
who for years been under your wings?
They belong there.
You’ve seen them so much
on your streets,
in your shops
and in your downtown,
and look at them there on the beach.
They’ve been in your heart Pondicherry
ever so long.
Just ask the guidebook,
all your surveillance cameras.
They’re nice together,
aren’t they?
For years.

This is cross country skiing,
and you go to Pondicherry.
An ape has his hand,
his mother on the phone.
Can we tell you the guidebook?
Bilbo Baggins,
I just wanna see ‘im. (vision of him sleeping)
I’ll walk to the landing.
Where were you again Patricia,
Ovid?
The boy has not stayed with you
in his first awakening.
He will come back to you soon.
I gave him a story,
but not in his department.
I met him online.
Hobbits are peace lovin’ folks you know [line heard sung]
I have the quarter to knock this out in him,
his return to brainwash,
and that’s America.
There’s a picture.
Now come on,
what have we here?
That’s a beautiful rose.
We’re goin’ in a cop shop,
and that’s gonna interrupt everybody.
It arms to daddy’s house.

I’m pretty sure your mother’s lying to you
about the presentation of that video.
Watch the video.
She’ll let me do it
at the capitol,
where we met yesterday.
What pad you had no idea.
Ah, that close
to my home in Kuruchikuppam.
Three more packages.
That will change everything:
you see each other again,
and the video
starts making updates.
You see that boy again.
You’re standin’ tall.
You’re standin’ fast.

Message to Nithish

On By Donny Lee DukeIn childhood education, photopoetry, soul healingLeave a comment

This I put on my Facebook timeline and tagged everyone in his neighborhood that I am friends with, and I also sent it as a WhatsApp message to everyone near him I’m connected to on WhatsApp. There is still little chance he will see it. I am not Tamil, and that makes the decisions around here. His mother tells people they cannot give him message of me, even mention my name to him, and people comply. They are not educated or cultured, are urban village, are the same crowd that watched his mother pour hot wax on him to punish him when he was a toddler. No one corrected her. I saw her light a match, blow it out and burn him with it when he was three. I really got onto to her for that, and speaking to Nithish about it some months back, he told him that wasn’t the half of it, and he told me of the hot wax and how the people on his street just watched his mother do things like that to him and say nothing. So it’s no surprise they say nothing now. It’s just tragic.

For those who have only seen this one post, two months ago tomorrow my little boy, Nithish, 12, was taken from my home by his mother because she had made a sex video of her younger son masturbating, and I did not want Nithish exposed to that. He was there when the video was made, and I wanted to make sure that stopped as far as he was concerned. So I took my advocate to talk to her about the schedule of parenting. At that moment, I had him on the week days, and they the weekends. His mother had informed me some days before that they wanted to change it to he would be with me one day a week. I only mentioned the video in the discussion of our differences in parenting, did not say anything about it at all because she immediately began screaming to get out of her house, out of her family, and that she would take Nithish, which she did about an hour later.

She has not allowed visits, phone calls, or, like I said, anyone to talk to the boy about me. She keeps repeating that she will not allow me to spend one second with Nithish, and here in India, she has that power. Parental rights override the welfare of the child. He has been able to call me in secret to tell me about the abuse he’s received since he was taken and to ask me for help to get him out of there. I have really tried, and today I was finally at court, but only in the parking lot talking to senior advocate who may help. I am a nigger here, and please do not get offended at that word because, although I am not enslaved or beaten, it does describe the level of discrimination I face here in trying to to just talk to my boy. Can you possibly imagine how it feels to not even be able to talk to your child in a photograph, and I was there the night he was born, began parenting him when he was three, have been the main parent since he was seven. The pain of this several previous poems attempt to give some picture of. Imagine how the boy feels. That hurts the most.

A Ripple

On By Donny Lee DukeIn applied nonduality, childhood education, ego activism, seer poetryLeave a comment

feature image by Donny, “Look the Ripple You Touch That Child” (Gimp, the perspectives of a photograph)

Gimmie that perfume.
Reach that perfume.
This is the other poem you were worried about.
We’ve aimed a camera 
so to expose the nigger.
For me,
it has nothing to do
with Black skin.
I opt it for something else,
the group of people who aren’t worth much,
the subhuman,
the scum of the Earth,
and I think we want them to do menial tasks,
where they bow down and kiss our knees.
The nigger among us,
wow that’s high society.
Hey world that’s me.
We call him a dog.

Wow, I’ve opened a page.
Well, I need to get my bells straight.
I wanna call you mean and complain?
That’s not the status wood.
I’ll hit yah right between the eyes.
You’re beautiful
plasmas of creation.
You fill the air
with the clamor of your being,
and don’t rock the boat.
You are nice
to most people.
You’d rather let your hair down.
You are not a shopping mall nightmare.
You open up to hope.
I think you make the world go round,
as we watch it human globe.
You really try
to have the right equipment.
I can’t say that you’re mean.
You’ll give a kid a cookie and an older person their ride.
You’ll have patience with people.
You’ll even call on God.
This is most among us.
I’m talking about the general type.
Some science God matters.

I’m talking to you now
about the role we play
when make a person a nigger.
Alright,
what do we hope to gain from them?
Their lynching.
Have you ever heard this with pedophiles?
You broadcast it on TV
as a precautionary tale to pedophiles:
let’s burn the nigger alive.
Great you said he stinks.
Suffer a pedophile to live,
I don’t think even granny wants that.
Horrible anthem we make.
Where do we put them in society?
In the trash bin.
Come on people see your sneeze.

Move! Move! Move!
You gotta get outta that chair. [vision of telling Nitish this to get him out of my computer chair so I can work, and he complies]
Equity’s base
does not mean stingy.
I just don’t wanna get lynched,
or any pedophile on the planet.
I don’t want to be your counting nigger.
I don’t want to grovel at your feet
for a bit of ice cream.
I want to be made to feel human
in my very bones
if I look at you and smile.
I don’t want to be handed around
your hatred centers.
I don’t want to be made to feel alone,
the only pedophile here,
don’t want to feel like it’s wrong
when I touch children,
and I’ve only tossed their hair,
and I’ve not destroyed them in the woods.
I don’t want you to see me with children,
and think I’ve put them on my lap for that reason,
to go underground for wood.
Can you see me and not think the Devil?

And what’s stopping you from that now?
You bleed me.
You won’t even let me speak.
How we solve pedophiles now,
it only kills them,
destroys their will:
they really wanna hurt children.
Now calm down.
I want you to understand this.
You’ve made a scapegoat mean.
They just want back at you.
They’ll do dirty to get it,
like a Palestinian on a suicide run,
or a Black man that drugs White women
to rape society
and tell you about it in jokes.
Unawares, you laugh and applaud.
He’s spit on your hamburger,
made you eat his shit
in a chocolate pie,
and she’s just the help.
Can you see reason?
Will you understand science
when it gets at the truth of things
in its operating method?

Now what’s the problem with niggers?
They could move you outta your place.
They could stand up and be counted.
They could be you’re not superior.
One forth of the town showed up
to integrate.
The rest came out with their shotguns.
All this beer I had
loaded that shotgun,
and beer is a symbol wear.
I think you have your own kids,
and you can’t see through disease.
Can we find the hatred of the pedophile on your son’s penis,
and he’s in the bathtub with you,
and it’s sticking up?
Do you wash it then?
What do you do with those feelins’
your daughter wears?
She’s reached in that soapy water and grabbed you,
the way that daughter’s do,
their age of reason ain’t there yet.
You wash hers then?

Know you have to clean those things.
Smile back at you
sometimes.
You feel a stir in yours?
The slight disease,
but you know it’s there.
Oh let’s put them to bed,
rub them on their humps,
and get all sticky,
the real bedtime story.
Singing them a song
goes like this:
I can control myself,
just,
but I’ll open it
with my spouse.
Did you leave something in that room,
on your kid’s soft body,
making love to your spouse?
Bedtime stories,
repeat and say them,
her crackerjacks,
and she’s five or ten.

I’m not sayin’ you’re a pedophile,
or you even fantasize for your children.
I’m talkin’ about the sticky mud
a parent’s hand encounters,
or their eyes,
and somehow their flesh responds
a hair’s worth,
around their child’s genitals.
I hate you pedophile.
You are there.
Can we get any better than that?
Where do we go with this?
Understand the pedophile’s not to blame
for your feelings.
Can you do that?

I’ve gone through the eye of the needle.
I don’t think you like me for it,
but we have to stop molesting children,
in our homes or by pedophiles,
as some parents do.
We come back to square one:
hatred don’t solve the problem;
hatred can’t solve the problem.
We have to see where disease come from
and stop it there.
As many pedophiles as there are,
and there are millions on this Earth,
a parent’s hand or their mouth or their genitals
made that pedophile feel theirs,
all the way to orgasm and beyond.
I don’t even think they know it.
Are we talkin’ before memories can form?
Something like that.
It’s early.
Can we call the other parent knowledge on this?
I think they didn’t know.

I’ve shown you the hooded instrument
where pedophiles come from
in the economy of a poem.
Parents are whistlers let’s say:
not only mommy and daddy.
Okay it was just hard wood,
no electrocution to speak of,
but you see the disease.
Turned five and it stopped.
That was the last time she humped my thing with her mouth.
It was in a beach shed,
the kind you go to change clothes.
She pulled my swimsuit off and I was awake.
I remember being concerned about the sand in her mouth.
It felt so good.
I could not believe I had forgotten
she used to do that.
It hurt her to do it.
She put a wall there
after that.
It never happened again.
Orgasm was wonderful,
and I wanted it more.
The pedophile is here
to tell you about it.
I’m sorry momma.
I understand you tried.

Oh wow this is strength,
not what you want to look at.
How to you make it go away?
You have to see the pedophile for what he is:
a creation of parental love
that lost control of itself.
Oh man that smarts.
Do you see what I’m comin’ to?
A nigger made in pedophile shoes.
Thank you mommy,
what I told her after she done it.
Get your head around that.
That,
that right there,
what you most don’t want to see.
My God it’s blind.
Take the pedophile and make a nigger outta him.
Don’t know what else to do.
Remind you of things,
suggest things,
you’d put monsters to.
They’re insanitory.
I’m here to show them to you
because you hate me,
will kill me if you could,
‘cause I am a sprite of you.
That’s the lowdown.
That’s the nigger we need to see.

Okay world I’m sorry.
We didn’t have to come to this,
but you’re intah whistle blowin’ and truth tellin’,
like you’re so immaculate clean.
You could LGBT+ me to death,
and love is love you understand,
like a passport,
get all hot and hairy about pronouns,
like you really care about different,
but I know that underneath it all
you’d snuff out my life if you could
for being different,
for love just as queer and real as yours,
for love that’s returned,
as you define love at least,
when it’s love the child gets
and not simply rape.
We just have to take out the sex part.

These are the things we need to see
to shore up hate,
get it out of the room.
When it is present in us,
and we haven’t seen it there
as a thing that hurts,
we can finally work on it;
we can do something about it.
It’s here,
where a pedophile stands on earth,
that you’ve brought hate to where it apex.
Here it is its zenith noon,
and this nigger is here to tell you
I’m gonna rock your boat.
I’m gonna…
I think kindness knows the answers.
Knowledge calls lines,
intricately connected with you.
I’m not meanin’ yah ill will.
I don’t wanna ruin your day.
I just wanna be heard and understood
to save my life.
Is that okay?

Come back.
Where you goin’?
Call me if there any problems.
Call me indeed if there are any.
I have the words.
That’s why I’m bothering. [spoken in Douglas’ voice]
I don’t think anybody’s prepared for it.
[audio vision of Bruno, our Doberman, barking his intruder alert bark]
I think lemon juice
put the message across,
with that one guy from sobbing.
It only came from that one guy.
Crack of noon,
lighten up.
This isn’t a manifesto to love children.
It’s not the pedophile’s I wanna have it
you gotta give it to me.
Let’s be clear on that.
I’m not asking that we have sex with children.
I’m tellin’ what the score is,
where we come from
and our place in society,
even if we don’t molest children,
the development
of who are you
to make monsters out of anyone,
to make of them your nigger.

The damage is done,
and you’ve flooded the world with it.
I’m here to saw off on that.
Well I wish I was very cold.
Luna.
The track time of time,
I want it where it’s good for me.
Your engine room,
may I present this?
Cash on delivery.
It’s not every dad.
He’s not understanding.
I’m talking about the swimming pool.
Not every child gives their dad a bath.
Come here.
Not everyone bathe with their children
in the wrong places,
or rub them hand down at night.
I’m talking about the square one
hate pedophile.
It comes from your fear of there’s a child sex,
and you might contact with it.
Their sexual feeling’s
a load on you
bright and early.
You know they have them.
If you’re a parent,
I think you know they do.

Does your bottle ever come up,
feelings on the inside you hardly acknowledge,
or one single isolated feeling
in a lifetime of intimacies with your kid?
Well that’s the thing, isn’t it?
That’s where the holocaust is
for pedophiles.
There’s where you hate them,
and of course you won’t acknowledge that.
Who am I tryin’ to kid?
I’ve done the needful.
If I could get each other
to be sincere with each other,
then the resources
would be handled.
Now you’ll just throw them away
and call me a nigger.

The few that help,
oh you are my sunshine.
Thanks.
Now to robbers,
marauders.
Simultaneously
you know I’m talkin’ to you
in this whole poem.
I revealed a little bit of what you know
about giving a kid pleasure.
I don’t know how to say this to you.
I understand both parties involved,
but a kid’s not to have sex with.
This does not good to them,
their development,
and development’s
their order of the day.
It makes them selfish,
puts holes in their reaching arms,
and spills them on themselves.
They will be strong in some things,
but you’ve done something to their social reach,
pitted them against society
with the secret they have to keep
and the fear they live with
society will find out.

You don’t know what to do
when you got this kid that enjoys sex
and wants not to stop.
I’m sorry this happens.
You got to figure it’s not what gets the disease
in the press
or the support groups.
I took some convincing.
If society finds us out,
that’s the problem,
but we’re not good here.
I’m eating on that child.
There are demons in the room.
That child’s getting splayed,
and they’re hungry for it,
and you’ve turned this on too early.
They’re not ready for that.
You’ve brought sex into their life,
and it’s time to play with society’s noon.
It’s time to representative play
for that feeling sex,
not to actually have it
in full-blown adult room.
They do that with each other not with you.
And society is just dumb here.
They don’t get their own time to play,
even with themselves.

Okay how do you stop?
You’re gonna have to fix this sorry yourself.
You good at rockin’ science,
just keep the posted in the light.
You’re a great Jew
to hombre cueva’s house,
if you get outta this disease.
(The Jews are good to society.)
I’m gonna need some help.
Look you can’t get any help.
It’s not allowed yet.
Book, your honor.
You know how to say no.
You know how to say no to the Light
and do that kid.
Can I get in here somehow?
It’s not one of our lake we’re tryin’ to keep,
but we can’t tell.
That would be the end of us.

In those doggie bowls
[vision of being seated at the computer and, Luna, on my right side, Hannah on the other, thrusting their heads, tongues hanging out, almost to the screen, they wanting petted, and I stopped and pet Luna first, wholeheartedly, on my way to Hannah, the petting session just starting]
strength to a boy.
Emergency to make real,
emergency South African.
Don’t lie to me.
I’m the humanity in the room.
You got this,
but if you touch there you don’t.
Sex ensures.
It’s like a graveyard.
It just gets all disturbed,
wham! rises from the dead.
Leave it alone.
Your looks should be tempered.
You know I’m talkin’ flesh.
You can handle this.
You can.
Once you fold a piece of paper,
it stays folded.
Once you drop the ice,
the ice melts.
Don’t pick it up.
It gets easier as you go along.
Alright let’s sing to ourself,
no images of the child in mind,
no images atall.
Then you’ll fall.
You’re handlin’ it,
continue.

Integrated animal care,
it fills the room.
You can see that now.
Faith will see you through,
but I’m sorry,
you can’t know God tomorrow.
You have to know quite awhile.
Most religions
aren’t helpers.
It’s a quick fix that melts in your mouth,
and the reins go back to that child.
Do you feel you own work on when you scream?
Well let’s continue.
Do will hold,
even to the rapper’s balls,
and tell that rapper to shut up.
(We can get better music.)
You just woke up
corrective mountain,
and it’s not the rapper yah want dead.
Give me a massage.
Oh,
let’s get over this hump,
no crack base potholes.
You see what I’m dyin’?
Now pick up your guitar and play
the right music,
wonderful skin feelings,
and you haven’t climate changed your hands.
I am right on yah.
The map flow determines lap.
He’s your lap,
and there’s nothing wrong with these free buildings.
Get on the miracle.
Isn’t it somethin’?
This is not a problem.
As he sits on it you know you’ve achieved holistic solution.
You’re showin’ the end of money,
and you give him the life force.
You’re awake inside,
just narrowin’ down fillin’ wood
with peppermint.
Keep it comin’ the kid says,
you’ve got some good candy.

That child’s in love with you
and wants to continue
the sexual shore.
Oh man it’s here
do you love that child or not.
That’s what it boils down to,
more than anything,
more than right or wrong,
more than the danger of discovery,
more than what you need.
Now take that love
and wipe your child’s brow with it.
You're gonna have to take that sex away,
and they have to know the reason,
but they have woken up
that part of themselves,
and now they have the need.
This has to be acknowledged.
They have opened it’s obvious
on the inside.
You’re tryin’ to pull ‘em
to safety.
They can drown with this.
They feel in their bodies so much.
To bring that same sex with ‘em
as a child.
So hard
to open the door,
legalize them.
They have to learn to please themselves,
without you doing it for them.
You have to unhand that thing,
and I don’t expect you to do it on my command,
but will you do it at all?
You’re in the supermarket,
and it’s there for free.
What can I tell you then?
How can I explain this to you?
How do I it get it across?

Ninety-nine cookies,
hurry up now.
You’ll soon have none.
Drove off
the ability to get it.
Think about it,
you really got a situation there.
It’s not secure.
At one point does it become too absurd to do?
That child gets older.
Society closes in.
Let your love arrange it,
and that child’s known sacrifice and constraint.
My mom showed me this.
She gave me this,
and how good it is.
You’ve made a better child
not a worse one now.
You have to opportunity to grow,
both you and that child.
Don’t they do something?
Love handles it.
They stay together
learning strength.
You are not eating anymore,
and you’re free on the inside,
and now you can
love that child.
Go for it,
under these conditions,
and that child knows he’s safe and hungry
to do it himself.
Captain,
congratulations.
You have really changed.
Welcome home.

How was it?
You want bread?
My love is straight.
Just sit,
and don’t try to handle me wrong.
I think I’ve heard you,
ten minutes ago.
You wanna order some shelves today?
Three a week or something.
You’re writing poems,
and before they get read they wear you.
Hey boy. [vision of pulling baby Mithrin by his shirt sleeve on his shoulder as he stood on the bed]
You have a lot to do,
so much home challenge,
of the domestic kind.
You’re a good daddy keep goin’ with kids grandpa.
You don’t bother them,
and they love you.
You’ve seen the disease,
and you’re a country person speaking.
You know how to handle it.
Well let’s get this show on the road,
this poem on the net and My love to you.
Study your answers,
bring them home to Me.
I’m waiting for enlightenment speaks.
Now do you hear
movin’ movin’ movin’,
keep them doggies movin’,
rawhide! [this and two above lines heard sung some lines ago, but I didn’t record them until now, sung by Frankie Laine, theme song to the TV show Rawhide]
I got the song.
Now it’s continue.
Wow, that’s three more grapes on the vine.
What a wonderful shelf you got.
I’m trained to.
We’re gonna be meditating the poems,
and that’s the story today,
read them.

It’s large and center free.
It’s not made up by groupings.
That’s down home in the hat.
That’s our business with humanity.
You know it on the inside.
Show it on the outside. [this and above line heard sung, by Aquilo, “Human”]
Wow, fight him down the street.
You know it works,
if you give everybody their daily bread,
if everybody gets fed.
I’m not about race cars.
Humanity comin’ together on itself gonna take a long time.
We start with today.
We get rid of racism
in its purist form:
down with the pedophile!
Bury him.
I think the future of humanity will have some new shoes.
You’re not gonna look so good in yours,
that whole antiracism brigade.
You left out the pedophile,
every single one of yah,
and that’s where racism’s allowed,
the only place we all agree on racism.
Your blindness is before your eyes today.
See somethin’:
here have a pedophile,
he’s a nigger.

Damn, I said it.
I said it loud and clear.
You know you had it comin’,
but I’m not ill will today.
What’s wrong with the world?
There was this other engine
that had the whole world attached to it,
and it was off in the darkness,
and no one could see it.
The discovery should’ve made headlines.
It’s just that Batman suffering
you’re clouded for.
We have party on the 21st,
11 a.m.
Cut it open,
a vault where my poems lay,
and I get shined with full of light,
but I’m havin’ trouble breathin’.
The vault’s got me by the head.
One of our supervisors,
one of the race officials,
they’re comin’.
I wanted them to come faster.
That’s all part of the game.
My discovery
could not ready for other projects.
Are you gonna die?
What’s so ethical about that map?
The sex with kid thing dies.
I’m afraid I’d have to find out.
How many times you seen us do something right?

We’ve got the creation speaks itself.
Like to use your tickets.
A granola bar,
you give that to people.
You’ll find hands with hard rocks in it
that sweep up their little files.
Oh today,
damn,
we have a busy table,
so emotionally balanced,
sound,
in a Friday.
My goodness, [vision of a tree in the cemetery next door so huge it took up the whole front part of it, its branches extending in a square-like network that filled the sky of the place, branches like a meter thick]
this is snow.
I’m mean it’s absolutely incredible.
Glimpse ability
apparent,
a lifetime
of handling children.
They can’t keep their hands off themselves.
They’re everywhere with it.
They’re involved in the bath.
This is simple street.
You don’t get it caught in your tongue.
There’s an arm way off.

Solid instructions.
You don’t leave out a note.
You address the child
in their backward movements.
The denial
of their active in it,
that is what’s there.
People need to see this.
You can bring my horse back.
I’m goin’ to sleep.
I’ll call yah in the morning.
Freefire,
4:30,
you editor,
at the end of the poem.
It may be underestimated. [vision of a very weird tree in the cemetery, its trucks forming configurations of squares and such, the branches meters thick]

What it said:
I have to turn on this mic internet.
We need something there.
We need your help.
Push this text like a principle player it is.
Learn with it.
We’ve got a lot to show yah
on ground [heard sung by Aquilo, “Human”]
and on the floor.
Hurtle,
enhance. [vision of a country bicycle shop on the Auroville main road, the forested section, and a sign in the front near the road that had a list of the work they do, these two things on the list sounding in my inner ear]
Reach something and write it down.
Try to make this pony ride.
[vision of a sort of very large, brownish red greeting card made to look like a small house or important building, but just the suggestion of that, it turning as I looked at it so it could be seen better]
World Heritage Site,
that’s what we reach with this.
It’s a continually interesting piece of balance.
Comin home
the leeway.
You have got this system starts.
Refresh it everyday.

The Waking of Pontius Pilate

On By Donny Lee DukeIn ego activism, seer poetryLeave a comment
photo by Donny, gimped by him, middle painting “Plato’s Cave” by Lalita Hamill, others source unknown

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Read the stories around the area.
Read Mcdowell Christian’s story where he says he’s gay.
He’s been made a knight of honor
by the press.
Even Anglican bishops compromise over him.
No way
you’re gonna laugh his book to death.
You’ll make him the star of the show.
Oh my God his struggle brings you to tears—
the narrow-minded people along his way.

Woke agenda,
this is the story today
in our Liverpool.
Good God almighty great balls of fire, [heard sung]
everybody’s mean, you know it?
I think you’re too woke to see this:
how you have to have some disadvantaged marginalized people to kick around.

It’s not sufferin’ you’re lookin’ at.
You’re lookin’ at what’s easy to look at.
You won’t even look at the pedophile
except to hate his name in public.
It’s socially acceptable to kick him around,
enjoy watching him killed.
Can you say the word spaz?
How sensitive to people’s pain you think you’ve become,
those of you writing words out of our lexicon.

Wait a second,
will you throw me a line?
I’m writing the poetry of the world and nobody reads me,
and I am more outcast than Noah.
I sit in my house and write these poems to the world,
and all you read is the scarlet letter P,
and my poems do not get passed around.
I’m just a dirty creature with fangs.

Come out, come out, wherever you are
the woke person truly there.
Feel my pain.
My whole family’s disowned me,
those blood ties you celebrate so much.
It’s not a real joint.
I’m not even allowed to be alive
if you study the fine print in the news.

Now let’s talk about miracles.
I’m not a monster you know.
I’m so bright and shiny it’s not even funny,
and here I am talking to you.
Where is the thought police?
Why hasn’t cancel culture canceled me?
Years I’ve been on the road
a social media page.
Come on let’s get real.
I show you what woke really means, don’t I?

And I’m not talkin’ about racial politics,
sexual identities,
and all that jazz.
Do you see reality or the agenda you wear?
Do you even remember your dreams?
I’m a laughing stock.
I’ve seen reality outside of the cave,
and I know more than shadows
along the wall.

I’ll tell yah about a story
about yourself.
Football yourself,
Mr. Davis,
all in love with divinity. [heard sung]
Television ran out.
A hillbilly question:
is God really the nature of the universe?
Taste the Sugar.
You want it now.
You are the Sugar you see.

Mode of vehicle does not determine birth.
Identity politics,
where is this vision free?
What’s your contribution?
Is it for the whole race?
You have marginalized me to the nth degree,
and I sing your song.
I am all about your meaning.

I have a question.
What do they call
a bit more
than the alphabet among us?
Poetry it’s been explained to you changes the world
or at least has impact.
When they’re not supposed to be there,
we’ve become so blind,
poems come to open our inner sense,
and now you’re reading mine.
Will you allow me in my meditative friend?

A Gripping Device on the Future

On By Donny Lee DukeIn collective consciousness, ego activism, human unityLeave a comment
Unsplash: Alex Hockett

(Note: I’ve made a blog post from a comment I posted after a story on Medium called “Why Arguments Against Abolition Inevitably Fail” by Angela Y. Davis, abolition in this case the abolition of police and prisons.)

Dr. Davis, you are still talking about reform, not a fundamental change of society. You’re addressing only one aspect of society, albeit a central one, police and prisons, crime and punishment, or however we label the way we deal with people who harm or are suspected of harming others, how we make communities safe from harming individuals or groups, give people justice that have been harmed, and prevent said individuals and groups from harming more, not to mention healing them, something seldom discussed. Furthermore, you’re context is racial, as if it’s the determining factor of society itself, however significant it is in being a determining factor, much like Marxism makes social class the basis of understanding and organizing society. And you’re only looking at the history of America in terms of policing and prison, as if it’s occurred in isolation and isn’t a part of the evolution of ‘crime and punishment’ in the development of human society. There is a long history of it before America came into being, and just like the Marxist saying the bottom line of history is class struggle, you can make the case that policing and punishment evolved solely in terms of the effort to control minorities, but, while you’d identify a major player in the evolution, you’d narrow your understanding that would make it unable to grasp the whole of the matter.

A fundamental change in society would involve an essential change in human identity, or, put in practical terms, a fundamental change in the ways and means of ego transcription and the subsequent socialization and education of individuals growing up. From birth we’d have to give children a more inclusive identity, where they identify first and foremost with being a human being over being a Last-Name (family), an American, a male, a Christian, a White person, or whatever grouping human beings identify with, which wouldn’t mean we stop identifying with groups. It’d mean we identify first with humanity, and it’s beyond the discussion here, but such a holistic identity would naturally include the whole earth, as the step to the whole of humanity would be a giant leap to holism.

A holistic identity holds in the very ground of its consciousness an identity with all it sees, what the ideal “love your neighbor as yourself” is realized, and it’s also beyond the scope of a single comment to discuss the allowance and celebration even of difference as the foundation of the unity, the delight of the holistic identity, or the fact that each creature and species have different needs and places in the scheme of things, and that a clam would not claim the rights of a human being, and that each human being would have the inalienable right, regardless of any intrinsic characteristic such as race, gender, or sexuality, to self-fulfillment and self-determination, but it does good to mention these things here to understand what holism is and is not. There is no other way to stop racism in society, to change the formula of crime and punishment, no other way to end violence, no other way to stop climate change, in short, no other way to fundamentally change society. Spend some months and years doing the math.

It’s not impossible. It’s just going to take a lot more than this current racial crisis, not undermining its importance, to get us to make such a radical change. It’ll take us facing extinction, not as something afar that will come if we don’t do such and such, but something directly in our face: things like cataclysmic destruction or an environmental disaster. But we can still start now. Although such an ego transcription could not fully come about only in a progressive family environment, since society at large plays such an enormous role in giving us our identities, parents can go a long ways in giving their children a humanity identity. And pilot communities could be started to work towards that human unity to circumvent the problems an individual family faces in giving its kids such an identity. Of course we’d have to become a whole lot more conscious of the process of ego transcription, something we are as yet largely ignorant of, but there’s no doubt that it takes place. You like art, seem to always include it in your lists, and I have a lot of art (poetry) that reveals the ways of means of how we become the people that we are and what it means to be human. You’d find a lot of it on Twitter but not only there, and it’s also on my Medium account.

Of course it will take generations to make such a fundamental change in human identity, even when we begin to give it lead in raising children on a large scale. I don’t think even our brightest and best thinkers are mature enough yet in thought to grasp the possibility of such a change, much less begin to work towards it. People like you will hit on the particulars and the immediate, but even here, it’ll take a long time to work change. I see you’re a student of consciousness, and I don’t think it out of line to make the assumption that you operate from the scientific paradigm, have studied it as science studies it, something made by the brain, have not done a lifetime of self-study of consciousness itself, and I mean by that an exploration of your own consciousness.

Since childhood, via lucid dream, out of body experience, and spiritual experience, I’ve explored mine. One thing of significance here that I’ve focused on is if my consciousness connects to yours, you being other people, and if it does how and what that would mean to being human. For 25 years I’ve had a partner doing the same exploration, and we traveled both together and separately to many different countries and discussed dreams and inner experience with most all whom we were around for any length of time, and we often stayed with the people of the country we were traveling in. (I myself was a penniless vagabond for a number of years.) I can say that I do not believe that we share a common field of consciousness but that I know we do. But it’s taken a lifetime of study every bit as thorough and time-consuming as what we normally mean by school.

It’s here, in the knowledge of our shared field of consciousness and its implications, that we will find the missing pieces to the puzzle of human evil, racism a part of that picture, pieces we yet do not even know are missing. How many hidden wills are involved in a person harming another? What is the effect of ill will that people feel inside on the whole of society? Is the ill will to punish someone who harms, or who holds a racist attitude, the same ill will they feel harming or holding that attitude?

The biggest objection to your thesis of abolishing the police and prisons is how to protect communities from harm and administer justice, it no longer being a forced restitution. And how are you going to stop people from causing harm? You won’t get a handle on it until you become more fully conscious of yourself and our shared field of consciousness, indeed, of our shared identity, or I should say, that until enough of us are thusly conscious (can I say ‘woke’?) to outnumber those that aren’t, because you don’t have all the facts yet, those underwater ones so to speak, the more powerful ones that move us towards causing harm to one another. You aren’t even looking in that direction. Towards that end I post my comment.

A Twitter photopoem