About concessions surpassing condition in this mutual lust’s core. / From Don to poet in 30 seconds. I’m on poet duty. I’m a hole in One. Can I tell yah our range card? The ego sits in its bunker wonderin’ over friends and family, excused about relationships the very center of relationship. Hey you I’m a world, a big planet unto myself, the center of my see. You have not that validity.
You’re just out there, and I’m in here the substantial train yard. I wanna melt these barriers down, but I grab myself again, and that’s impossible. I really love you, and that’s sweet and kind. No it slaps you in the face sometimes. I’m all animal whirl when someone gets my goat, but I mitigate it with you must be in there too, just fightin’ your own wars really feelin’ yourself a wounded soldier.
Can we get out of this? I try. I don’t know where to put you if you don’t see my worth, if I am just a blob in a corner to you. We sing awhile the injustice in that. Oh my God do I compensate. I think I feel every hole in humanity. I so understand your pain, and it moves me to tears I’m embarrassed to show. My God you have a rough time little Gaza boy alone in his bed of refugees. I don’t know where to turn from your pain Parkland shooter realizin’ what you’ve done.
I’m a hole in the fence to a greater life I can’t fit my own self through, but I’ve been there a time or two, on the other side of that fence, miraculously arrived in the very vision of God’s eyes, and I know we are safe caught in the lifetime passage dream to bring us all out of strife at the end of the tunnel.
My God I would be there now if I could unrealize the dream. So I sit and suffer in a peculiar sense of humor that sees beyond the show. I know we will be made right. I see this in my puppy dogs trying to crawl into me to feel safe and ease their loneliness. I am the master of love to them, and I am but a prototype based on God. We’re headed somewhere, you and me and the whole damn crew, so I hold my dog and comfort you, who set bars alight wantin’ to get at this lust’s core to dream to change it.
I would not be bothered safe. Now tell me now would you? Would you give it to ‘im, this poem over there, if he were your little boy in trouble? We can fly the world on a single point where suffering goes and capture the whole poem. Oh my baby dog Nithish, we wish you a happy birthday on tomorrow’s wings.
To murder someone else on the arms of a little boy, in the status of a little boy, you hit the nail on the head with what keeps us from being human to one another, what keeps our humanity at bay in the everyday meaning of relationship.
Nithish has a parent that’s me we didn’t put together by law or found by blood. Time did it, growin’ him up in my care, parenting him. No amount of denial can change that in this boy’s heart or in my shattered life. No amount of lies can make it undone. We are parent and child and more.
We are each other’s significant other in that our lives are undone in the worry over the other. Where do you see that? In his inability to concentrate solely on school, in his brooding silence, in his anger that’s at a flashpoint every time, in his antsyness and nervousness not knowing what to do, in his inability to sleep at night. These are just vehicles. Those around him know something’s up, have known for months now, and all the punishment you can give him can’t stop it, all the control.
You got a situation where you’ve gotten rid of one of the most important people in your son’s life, / a very important person to your life, even important to the school his goes to, and that was done in what amounts to murder in the first degree, where you simply killed him as cruelly as you did that: without any thought of goodness or proper action, cut me out of your boy’s life like he was holding the gun, and you even made him shoot me, and he suffers for that to no end.
You can’t say why you done it, just that your parental rights give you that right, and I have none, what it boils down to, whatever the dyslexia of the situation, the Sri Aurobindo, and you split your family doing that, made culpable his school.
Who am I again? A real live person in your life no amount of getting rid of will get rid of, and even if you actually did kill me, or send me off in space, I would be around your neck in plain view of that boy for the rest of your relationship with him, what you did to me and why so you can have him for yourself.
Can we rule of the heart of the matter? And the heart is a tough customer, and you feel it too. It’s what we live by, overrides every rule, shows itself as the leader of the life in every relationship. It can’t be denied, and even if you ignore it, it will make sure you can’t, and you can’t can you Sandiya? That’s why you control him so much. You know he wants to be with me.
He’ll be 13 in less than a week. I’ve been to every birthday that boy’s had, been a principle player. You know what he wants for his birthday. He wants his daddy. He needs his daddy. You are his mother, and that’s what mothers do, meet their child’s needs. Was he born from your womb and now you own and possess him, or are you really his mother? Well are you?
Anyway, I want to see him on his birthday. Why can’t that be arranged? That’s tonight’s show.
When you meet people, it’s said to have a book confession. Don’t you like camera? There goes my hand in. Unlimited her tools, creation mother. I am really serious about my tea. I don’t pick up girls at happy bars. I’m bigger than that. No I live and learn. I too must lift the curtain of worn-mind. I can’t go overboard. I have to go to somewhere. I can’t get there too quickly.
We challenge each other, and you hear that basket in my house: my gravities have to be steady. I can’t pull the plug on reaction until I’m right where I need to see it. I’m pretty much a whole too. I see my desires. I’m not habituating them, and the sex chakra says no. Hang on, to the orgasm out the top of the head I am loyalty tower. I guess that’s way I rise behind this consciousness and enter the Silence again.
Astronaut, I am that astronaut torn the curtain between Nursemind and Supermind. Okay, if I get mad at you for up us in Elvis, I should just poet you shut up. Is Goofy’s rig not bad for sellin’? I’m at the end of my ferter of dynamite. You are all young. It’s a bit of closed up there. Can’t touch the Gods.
It’s not me didn’t see. That’s some awesome shit. I’m half-grown. Did you bring it one possible? Here it goes. Been there done that, I need you to do that, then study me some. Boy do I look different. Comin’ here’s comin’ here; I tried comin’ here for basketball, and it left me singin’ monster. I think you should just go inside.
He’s finished with the pencil, he’s ready for the expense. The world is not there with any street signs on it, how about that? Horse please, you can’t see the world as a substantial form. It’s a bare outline. You’ve lost the world right in front of you. It kinda gets me in my brother, and everything’s silent don’t you see you’re in the background noise?
Oh God it’s principle arrangement. There’s nothing in your pockets. You’re not tryin’ to get anything. There’s no motivation on your own. The world is just there, and your oyster’s not in it. You’re stunned. You’re taller than mankind. You’re deep in the Silence, and you come upon God ways.
We’re almost there. Just shimmy up that tree and stop field mouse. I’m breathin’ hard, but I’m right there at the gun a pageantry. Don’t throw me away. I know the business, and I put two and two together. My little boy’s the land rover that principles enlightenment. He’s got the starry list, and I’m in my union circle. Is no ants get to bar. He gets held and catered to, healed, and I reach the 5th dimension. I’m a bullpen for he comes home tomorra. I’m in the Silence come home. Enlightenment is it, a shoulder's worth.
Harm's End 