In the stories of the Self,
the eyes of sunshine,
it’s been Armageddon.
A small voice out front says no,
it’s been leading to something big.
I’m a hope, and a skip, and a jump away from that.
That’s what I’m pettin’.
You hear the ups and downs,
the soliloquies
harbored on the snake.
I swear these muse.
I’m tellin’ the story of God.
I’m not coughin’ up Skid Row,
but I’m giving you pencils and integers of everything,
and I don’t neglect nothin’ out.
We’re on a roll now.
I feel something big.
I can’t get my heart out
to show you.
I’m bein’ pushed from the inside.
Still I can’t see my boy
or anything else big,
like a sudden public share.
I still sit in someone else’s pain and cry,
anyone on the planet
I hear their story loud,
and join that with my own.
I still see the pain of the world
and not its bright sunrise.
What is this bear I speak of now?
A coming tidal wave,
my head upon the stake?
My faith in God hasn’t reached that far:
he loves me at high noon,
I mean like in front of everybody,
and I’m not a bad man anymore.
I’m a way with him.
Would you count that,
or do you even see him
right out here open fields with everybody?
I do have that smile.
Do performance art,
and I’m from there.
Stay in your room,
that’s me.
Catch me,
you are my god
I announce things at
the seriousness of a child,
and I am hurt by one.
Look at me,
a fattening calf,
I have golden reins.
I don’t know how to handle this:
you don’t put my face on.
That’s how it needs to be done
to God knows what.
You cannot contain this.
You think aliens wrote it,
or a moved lunatic.
Some of you know I smile
the meaning of the word.
Play your blindfolded world.
Did the boy end up revealing anything to us?
He’s happy and content on the outside
I heard that your honor.
On the inside he can’t handle himself,
is boiling in pain.
These are irreconcilable.
He can’t hold this script down.
Those around him only see the happy kid.
He doesn’t reveal himself inside.
I am not a name on his lips,
like he doesn’t want to see me,
but he cries for me inside
and is continually scheming to see me
or make contact.
These are all along the lines of Earth.
He can’t make it right.
He can’t get up out of his stool.
He’s frozen there,
and he and I are frozen there.
You don’t know how this hits me.
It’s like a betrayal that loves me so
impossible to understand.
He won’t even call my name,
acts like I do not exist,
and he is finished with me.
This just does my head in,
confuses me to no end.
I swear the real boy’s right there,
but he is so earnest when he shows me his inside,
especially when he calls me and cries—
so much pain,
so much out of control,
with a rage that wants to blow up the world,
and I’m supposed to believe him?
I get so worried about him.
There is no end to this.
There is no issue from this
as he grows older.
I just want to walk away,
but I’m pulled back every time
by divine love
and my unmanageable love for him.
He is so big inside me.
This is all in my reality.
Can you lose a child,
have him kidnapped,
and he’s winin’ and dinin’ with his kidnappers
just down the street,
sending you secret notes of ransom
that say daddy I love you so much
and want to be with you?
This is a crash course in reality.
Fuck this I want off,
and the Mother
and Sri Aurobindo
and other divine
bid me stay with him,
and I love that kid so much I do.
Here’s the trick.
Get rid of the pain they say.
Don’t even operate on that attachment.
Count the divine only
you see in everybody.
Don’t be forlorn.
He’s comin’ back.
It’s all in my muse,
there or in the background of every poem I write,
his name, his name,
Nithish, Nithish.
Stop the forlorn?
The ache inside my breast all the time,
the absence of my child
and his dangerous psychological situation,
how in the world do I stop that
or believe the divine he’s here
sometime soon?
This plays with me and plays with me.
Are the divine devils?
I don’t know what’s goin’ on.
I’ve lost my child.
You my divine reader swing with the Gods
with your heart-breaths,
your beliefs,
your unaccountable sum.
Have you seen the Great Beyond?
Are you a born object of God,
what others now discuss
as an occasional moment in the Sun?
It would change your way of life,
radically transform society,
because it’s there
at our divinity’s base.
We lit triumph with our children
to bring this home to us.
Do you know the transformation of the outer life
into the inborn divinity we wear?
When do we put that on
with our children,
a radical new way of life
that busts out of the husks of the old,
where children can be themselves
and not the uniforms they wear,
not crammed down society’s schoolbook,
not made to think your thoughts
but open God up inside themselves?
I’m a motion on that,
a mover,
and can I remind you here of our high aim
in your classrooms with your kids,
in your downtime?
Nothing more to say
except my time with children is that,
who they are in time
and their inborn sense to go beyond it
a revolutionary.
How do the boatmen row?
Gently and in springtime.
I’m saying my worth,
and I’m not a cherry picker.
I’ve seen the city up high
and the elephants the grass ate,
the thieves that robbed bottom
and the song they sang when they saw God
they now with children row.
I’ve counted the stars
and their admonishments
and protests,
their gifted speech
to the poets of the time.
It’s all a crocodile
beautifully put.
It doesn’t change us.
It only makes us mean
towards our brother
when we find them doing wrong.
Who can translate poetry
the Gods themselves can’t bore?
Do you know the living Ray?
It comes form other shores,
and we hand it in our pencils
blockchains we wore.
Can I pencil this in for you
with the freedom of the Infinite
involving children,
involving Light?
It breaks on us a new path:
you’re the leader
finally acting,
and I storybook my little boy
from a full moon today
where we draw redemption.
Outstanding citizens no,
we want radical revolutionaries
with every child we write.
Do I dare you?
Radically I write time.
I am life’s sacrament.
It won’t pull me under.
I am not dyin’ here.
Somethin’ climbs in my room
I don’t know.
It’s got handles on it,
but oh what they are?
I’m a space nigger in time.
Maybe that’s coming to an end?
Maybe there’s a zombie apocalypse,
and I get loved right out in the open by my boy?
I think it will take that for him to act,
despite this poem I wrote.
Maybe I’m onto better days.
Maybe I’m big stuff.
It’s Armageddon folks,
is that how this is supposed to end?
No we just pray there,
and we get up and run the world again
I lit in the face of certainty.
The foreigners would wait outside folks,
and the lady is a figure on trapped.
Startled by his brightness,
I see the Alone in every tree.
It looks out at me with my dogs’ eyes.
It’s in every figure of self,
looking out at the world with timeless eyes.
I am not alone here,
even though you keep me at bay.
I am a figure of Self,
and I break bread with the Alone
as a matter of happenstance.
You can’t rob me
of that deep.
You can’t even see it.
Fine, I will wear your society,
but I’m on revolution’s springs,
and I stand there alone
investing in time
an uprising out of it.
Now read me won’t you please?
I see the Alone in every face,
and you are nothing but he.
Crowd me now
with your figure of him.
I dance on this delight
on Earth’s shores
just poetin’ the hell out of time,
and that’s the start of it,
prayfully yours.
Tag: radical
Tomorrow in the Hall

That’s why what I can get on the television is behind your imagination,/
you’re too fat.
What’s that?
It’s a soft glow.
You’re wrapped around the axle of society
eating everything you can get your hands on,
entertainment spook outs,
song after song after song,
the news minute,
and bubbles and bubbles of internet stuff,
and books that make you mean.
You can’t get away from society
in your newspaper.
What’s that supposed to mean?
You suck society’s dick
a porn hub.
I’ve just offended half the nation.
The other half’s asleep.
Why can’t I suck dick on television?
I’m using figures of speech
to show our involvement with society.
I just got censored out of society,
but can I employ you in your mule,
weave together a story
using pockets of molten lava?
I’m tryin’ to get yah riled up.
I want to show you you’re pasted by society.
Would Sri Aurobindo say that?
I think he would allow inspiration to come
and not worry about sensibilities.
He would not future poetry
to make it stand a language model
that forgets our garbage stuff.
He would future poetry.
I want you offended.
I want to show you what you’re made of.
That’s not squeaky clean.
It’s all over the place.
If I took you into the Silence,
you would want to come back.
You do not know the spiritual consciousness.
You think it’s a morality speaker,
a set of rules you follow to get there.
A whole other world
arrives when spirituality arrives.
I don’t think you saw that yet.
You’re a radical revolutionary
if you’ve taken off ego a moment.
I have never been there permanently,
so I can’t say there.
Did you think Sri Aurobindo was like your local priest?
I want you to examine yourself
in the light of society.
It’s mean it sucks,
and it will throw you to the wolves
if you just can’t make it fit right,
your will with what society says no.
Say you molest children—
I’m going to marry a millionaire.
Oh my God you’ve processed God,
and you no longer molest children.
You can love a child now like it’s God lookin’ at yah,
and you love that child.
The formula’s in the Bhagavad Gita;
you just don’t hear it,
or you think it can’t be done.
Fuck a child,
and society will never let you in again.
I’m boilin’ your paper right now.
I wanna show you how small you are
when it comes to the big stuff.
You just morally react.
You don’t know how to do it,
heal a person from society’s ways.
It’s society that fucks children;
I guarantee it.
What’s the softball today?
We learn to love each other,
even those you hate.
If I can’t accomplish love,
I can at least accomplish understanding.
That mother beats my child,
and she’s raped him from me.
I could take a stick and beat her myself,
but that would just make her meaner.
I understand her jealousy
and her lack of control.
I just sit with it.
I’m rescuin’ my boy.
You hear it done
special in our media.
I’m gonna see him safe,
and I’m gonna bring him back to papa.
That’s my name on his lips.
He calls me daddy.
We have a room for him
in a whole new place.
This is spiritual journey,
in the air of spiritual journey,
where that boy’s no longer in Pondicherry,
so that boy’s ocean will work.
Grab you guys
in a manner of minutes,
and anyway,
I’m makin’ sure the roads are prepared for him.
I was gonna give this poem to who would’ve thought it,
but for now let it sit on this Facebook page.
Those of us who would change society
have to live under its auspices.
Society would rather kill than change.
It’s acquired a life of its own
apart from the individual.
It’s got great steed on it,
but we’ve reached the end of its present rope with us.
The world will be destroyed before society changes;
I mean it’s bragged about that,
if you can hear the writing on the wall.
How do I know all this?
I’ve been from one end of society to the other,
from the mountain to the monster,
and I’ve grown bigger than society
makin’ that monster
climb to the mountaintop
and seein’ God from there.
The monster changes his panties
and grabs society by the horns
so that society can see itself
for the monster that it is.
I’m no more monster.
Can you ride with me?
I have some beef to show you.
Holy cow,
let somebody eat beef,
if they’re just tired of the same old fare,
what doesn’t take you rocket launch,
what keeps you in the bounds of society,
what goes no deeper than a three dimensional world
bound to love its aunties
and the open vigilante.
Am I chargin’ wool?
Hey man, are you mediocracy?
I sucked the wrong dick.
You are basically a big person.
A big person,
you are God unawares;
you are the look of the Lord
when He forgets Himself.
Let’s all dance to this tune:
hey God, wake up.
See yah on Sunday,
on Saturday,
in your religious house of worship.
It just kills the kids doesn’t it?
They know there’s more to God than that.
They know there’s Everlasting,
but you’ll just slap them around
if you find out
this thing has to do with naked and
not with their school books.
I’ve been the danger a kid faces at midnight,
and my God watch it grow,
their Shazam.
They know there’s more than little TV,
and I’m not talkin’ about the sex stuff.
They know they can get beyond this movie,
that God is bigger than Her lists,
and don’t just stand there;
do somethin’.
It’s put up here hangover
on that third eye.
You’re just gonna have to get your shit together.
I’m compound joy.
There is actually a petting session over here.
Nithish called.
Everything’s fine.
I will see my little boy soon.
We’re all at a movie.
It’s packed.
Saw the hall were you there?
Every divine minute
the time it took to free me.
No,
you were there willingly and cooperatively,
and you woke up with a bang;
it hurt too much,
just like the Buddha said.
We just don’t put illusion on everything,
because God’s there
the hunt.
Wanna see?
See past your nose
blockade.
Make you feel the situation,
make you feel the heartbeat,
make you get out of yourself,
river find out
the apocalypse,
if you don’t hum the right tune.
That’s in our field today.
See that little boy?
He’s weathered the storm.
I’m not just gonna leave ‘im there.
I’m gonna bring ‘im home.
I’m gonna open up
where God dwells.
Wanna see me do it?
I know how.
Alright people, listen up.
The Earth song,
do you just cram society?
These are open bars.
Come on Grace,
let’s go pee pee.
We can’t send her out alone.
That little Beagle’s still a puppy.
I gave ‘er
more than the rat race.
Come on let’s go
to your human, darling,
and I took myself to divinity.
You comin’?
Society rose,
what’s the historia?
It’s wide open,
every means to God to get there,
even through the snake.
You just stop biting people,
even through the murderer and rapist.
Now that I can put this in literal terms,
so can your doctor.
I be doc.
Listen up,
let’s start from the beginning.
Dicks out.
No, you don’t go out.
The boy’s offended by the balls.
That boy’s offended by the power
of some certain dirty thing
even mentioned in a poem.
Take it off the neck.
No, I don’t wanna get yah to do it.
Can’t heal it ‘less you hear it,
and that’s in the meat grinder,
a poem so everybody can get off,
a poem so everybody heals
from this disaster
we propagate as society.
That boy got offended,
that readership.
I won’t say fuck you God no.
I’ll see yah when you’re open again,
after death,
or this poem will.
It’s got strings on it
that pull you along
where this poet meets the world.
There’s a response.
There’s a regular response.
Can you feel it?
It’s on the way home.
You’re bigger than mountains,
and you don’t have to be bothered by anyone
or what they say.
This is a test of your truth speaker.
Can you get past this test?
All we are saying is give peace a chance.
[above line heard sung by Plastic Ono Band]
Truth can be known that doesn’t betray yah.
Get back in there
tenderfoot.
I think my muse is talking to me.
Goddamn,
there’s just no end to the beginning.
This poem was written for the Facebook page Teachings of Mother and Sri Aurobindo – Discussion forum, but I’ve tried to post it twice, and each time it’s been deleted automatically upon posting, and so I submitted it to a member of that group called Renaissance, an arm of the Sri Aurobindo Society that is doing a feature on the purpose of art. In their series, there’s an essay by Nolini Kanta Gupta, arguably Sri Aurobino’s main disciple. Ignore the introduction by the Renaissance team and just skip to the essay: “The Obscene and the Ugly – Form and Essence“. It will add flavor and standing to my poem in the light of the the Integral Yoga.
He’s Alone in There with Kids
feature image 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.
