photo by the author, a chalkboard at the entrance to an Auroville middle school
Boxed in the corner, I hear You call my name. I last. I play the game. I know how to handle time. There’s a secret to it. Open yourself to the Invisible. Hold yourself on the inside and see the outside. Don’t just stand there and swim. Mount time the stadium you wear. Don’t be bashful about it. Don’t overrate yourself. Stand up and spell time the way you wear it. Give the voice to the ages. You want to be so sincere you spelled time for everyone.
It can be in a broom closet, but you’ve made that closet sing. I’ve been in dens of iniquity, and I found the price of the world that way. I found out how much we cost hurtin’ people. They wore the boundaries me. They were the hope that carried the world, and I just cried my eyes out when I discovered that. Can you embarrass God? I think I did.
Then I opened inside myself time and discovered its secrets. I had damaged time, and it didn’t punish me with it. The way of redemption is forceful and slow, but you can ride upon its back if you find redemption’s base: I am trouble I am, and that is a whirlwind, and I turn that whirlwind upon myself, and I open time and fate upon myself, to rack the tools up in inner man to overcome evil with good I’ve paid for myself.
It happened, and I grab you by the hand and show you inner healing’s ways. We are not an accident, and we are bigger than the wrong we have done, and you are bigger than having it done to you. We get trapped in these ways, and we make reality existence either hurting or being hurt, the clash of right and wrong.
How this fools us into little lives that can’t see past their own noses, and we make everything a sin, or we are trying to get to sin. How many can let a child play with themselves and stay out of it? Why you want to stop them or join in. Fuck let’s cut that asunder and just stay out of it. Fuck, you can stay here, or you can allow language to get a little tight to come into these narrow straits of time. It’s difficult to go past your moral boundaries, and the world needs to be saved, and our existence depends up it.
Children need to play with themselves, and men and women need to heal from sin, not punished, not beaten, not be made outcast. You cannot stop evil you can only heal it, and that changes it into something else. We can heal together. We can find the weapons to do that. It’s much deeper than a doctor’s office, deeper than a psychiatry chair, deeper than a religious conversion and any form of prayer.
We have to turn inside out. We have to get to the bottom of things. We have to open our consciousness and get in there to the secret stuff. / We have to get clean, not from sin, from even the desire to hurt and harm. We have to look at each other and know we are more than any me. We have to find the secret Inhabitant that sees out both our eyes, and we both see together that we are one through that gaze.
Man this is reality, who we need to see to survive, and it’s how we heal from hurting people and being hurt, but you have to arrive there not just in belief. It’s to see that Look. We wear time. It doesn’t bury us. It’s not our keeper. It’s not who we are.
The phenomenon is just a wonderful in the All-Look’s gaze. Wonderful we see that, and wonderful we see each other, and a panda is to us the moon and a dog the starry sky. Can you get there? All life has Eyes, and oh the splash of healing there, phenomenal.
Do you want to understand? I can give you all I’ve got. That’s the music in me. You have to be wide enough to take it and not stand in its way. We need to heal time, and are you gonna block that?
Oh look at that swing behind the throw up. It’s how you reach enlightenment my dears. Believe it or not a swing shows up in dreams when you approach it. It’s a force that takes you like the spiral, and you literally swing. How about that habitat? Nothing can get in the way. You’ve got to swing all the way there. Your life will proportion this out to you. You get closer, and you move further away, swinging back and forth until you get high enough to arrive.
Do you see how tall you are? The symbol of dream has shown you up close your waking life approach, time’s secret here I’ve shown to you. If you do anything, habitat this truth when it comes out.
Am I allowed to continue? Why thank you I appreciate that. The little swing of enlightenment people, how we tell time what we are.
I don’t think it was specifically because of this poem, but Auroville International posted a poem of mine in their private Facebook group some days after I posted this poem to Facebook and here. I think it had to do with the quality of the poem they did post, maybe not in terms of poetic merit, but in terms of being sincere to the goal of Auroville International, which they seem to be. That poem is called “Prayin’ for the Hour of God” posted on this blog a few days after I posted this one.
photo by Nithish
Not one star Auroville International. These are the streets humanity is lost. Wow, could you say the Mother’s will is here? Fuck this assistant, is that what you say? I give my critique to the Sun. A poet’s basin it hears, and that’s how I write this poem. I’m a rose for my little boy, and I’m fighting for him here, S. Nithish. We make music together. Hear it?
Stop quivering old D, your fingers will look like the attention, and they are. Alright rebel, steal the show. I have my own blog to put it on, to make sure I can be heard. I guess you don’t have anything to worry about, and I’ve just processed you with the snake. Auroville International, here I leave my calling card you hateful organization hellbent on revenge, and that’s where we find your attention.
We’re all completely naked. All of you need to get off your thin horses and see this: that boy needs Donny. I feel like a fundamental character. I feel like a plot. These are ice to snow more shoes. We’re both realizing we’re here. Our mastermind sets people free. That’s the long and short of it. Now terrible channels go home. I’m about to go on the other side of the wall. You will see me there promptly. Then you can count grab ass and green cards, you holier than thou bunch of people, you people Auroville don’t need.
Just look at the character you endow with. You come upon the scene with the hatred of the machine, and you throw people away. Self-sacrifice to help your brother, go out on a limb to speak to him, you can’t find that in yah, because you’ve agreed among yourselves to hate and rob people of their right to exist and banish them from the land, and not even eternity can redeem them, oh you Christian bunch of people where your bones meet the land.
Stark naked I am in front of your mow me down, and I ride vulnerable and sweet to your execution where you ban art. I ride healing in the midst of your hate, and I’m here to stay. Are you gonna shoot me? There is no love in your ice machine, and that is pitiful and strange because you are the consideration of a city that seeks to grow new men and women who want to radically change the Earth into a paradise of brotherly love and hope that dares bring God into our human flesh and divinize the land.
You are that change, oh you normal people putting hate where God grows. Old system be gone, old ways, that punishes you an infantry of hate and ill will that has no means to grow the integration of society in healing’s ways. You destroy that too selfish and a pain to the officer of love.
See this and change or lose your raison d’être with us, the people on the groundwork of human unity, harvesting it into the hands of the city to realize this on Earth. Now take my sin and look at it again in light of the art I’ve given you. It’s the end of harm isn’t it? Paid for by penance and long years of learning the pain that I have caused. Can you grasp that? Goodbye. Auroville International will you answer your position?
Names,
is that the name of God?
Would you call him Jesus?
I don’t understand God’s son.
Would a man give birth to a dog?
The son is the substance of his father
and his mother,
and where is she in this picture
when we talk about the Trinity?
No God wore.
You’ve made up a family
to give God sustenance in your lives.
You don’t understand God.
Who can?
Come on let’s see God.
I don’t know where He comes from.
Could we call Jesus a bastard child?
Honestly, do you think his society did not?
Where do we go here?
I think Mary escapes to Ein Karem
to avoid being stoned.
Oh hi Elizabeth you’re pregnant too
out of wedlock.
Now can we capture sexual sin?
No he’s king of the world.
It was all a plan:
die on the cross for our sins.
And we’ve made up another story
to grapple with God in man.
Who was Jesus?
A little child born out of wedlock,
and everybody taunted him for it,
and he really suffered.
Is this in the Gospels?
No, it’s logic and common sense.
The people of his day hated adulterers
and bastard children.
Can the pedophile say that today?
Oh my goodness I’ve crossed lines
imaging sexual sin,
and how we use that to hate people.
Can you imagine a God of hate?
I think some people do.
Is that you?
Take Jesus by the hand,
and he will show you love for your neighbor,
even if your neighbor sins.
Compassionate Christ,
how that contradicts your world order.
I can’t imagine Jesus stoning people.
Go to hell you sinner!
You didn’t vote for me!
And that’s the Christ?
How conveniently laid out in your plans
to force the world on your belief.
Thank God there’s God,
the truth of things, you know?
no matter what you believe.
Jesus Christ,
I’ve not counted him exactly.
He gives us roads,
all the way to enlightenment/paradise. [worlds spoken simultaneously]
Our meeting him determines the course.
He’s not a throw away deity.
He gauges sin,
and helps us cross it.
We are loved there.
We bring him deity to us,
can find that Christ in ourselves,
the divine element,
and transfigure this in man.
These are later stages the Gospels know not of.
I think you’re seein’ Jesus,
the Christ in our lives,
spilt by Christianity.
The religion does not capture the man.
It’s legal framework
whereby to tax sin,
a framework of belief
to tail the universe on,
a holier-than-thou
that puts everyone else in hell.
This is the religion for the ages.
This is God’s total store
for man in planetary being alive.
Immensity knows no other look
than this.
What medieval planet have you been hanging out on?
I don’t think Jesus would recognize himself here.
Would you crucify him,
goes the refrain, [above and below lines lyrics from “Would You Crucify Him?”]
if he walked right here among you once again?
Now that’s John Michael Talbot.
He put down his sword
and became a religious man.
What do we do with him today?
Oh John,
you are so faithful to the Lord.
Is that a TV program?
Where is that window you opened
on the truth of Christ?
It’s right here
in the lyrics of this poem.
There’s positive paintings of the way of Christ.
You take the ball and run with it.
The ways of divinity ride here.
What happens if you destroy it,
the value of Christ?
You’re witnessin’ a new reality
if you don’t.
We’re all here in airplanes
evolving Christ.
We’re lookin’ at time.
We need a revolution here on earth.
There’s no way to avoid it
if we want to actually survive.
The unity consciousness,
a consciousness of Christ, hello?
He’s good for heroes.
Yes, he is good for heroes,
and the Gospels leave that out.
This poem was came about as a result of a conversation with a curator of the blog Some View of the World. The link will take you the post of theirs where the conversation took place, quite short on their end, and this is the second poem resulting from that. The other one you can read there.
Harm's End 