Tag: soul healing

We Are Their Advocates

On By Donny Lee DukeIn seer poetryLeave a comment

photos by Donny

Let’s warm up.
You can begin to give it to her,
a complete handling.
Will someone tell me what that means,
include her in the podcast?
She’s a dog.
What can she do?
She just lays there.
Start handling her softly,
speaking to her like she’ll get offended if you don’t.
There’s a dog aware of its human being.

She’s so soft with herself.
She’s good at play.
Thirty seconds Rottweiler takes over.
Captain America
has the solution snap his fingers.
Now that’s a brain dog.
Where is this visible taking her for a walk?
It’s nowhere apparent.
You haven’t reached inside her yet.
You gotta make that connection.
That’s the tricky part.
I don’t know how to accomplish this.
With a whole lot of gentle persuasive love.
You gotta get in those eyes.

They’re for sell.
She loves to look at people.
She’s aware of her surroundings
like a slightly human child.
It’s wonderful.
She dotes on you.
She loves your hand.
You know how to rub a dog.
You get into it.
You bond with her.
She feels goosebumps inside.
You’re her parental figure,
and she loves you so much.
Everything comes from your hand.
She knows what you mean to her.

Are you crazy on your trip you get to fly a plane?
She knows she’s special to you.
She sees you as her partner,
her Spirit. [spoken in Nitish’s voice]
She has divine feelings for you.
They’re awesome.
She noses you around
in big Rottweiler gulps.
She takes in your life force like it’s food.
There’s an exchange rate.
You eat hers like it’s the story of the day.
You’re special to each other.
She knows she’s got your love.
She gets into yah.
Dude. [vision of Lisa hunched down in the field where we walk the dogs a long ways off from us, her hind legs much taller than normal, deformed actually, and she was looking at us but not responding]
Lisa!
Lisa’s tarrying.
She can be found across.
We entered on Lisa.
This is dog patch.
We need to find her/get over her. [phrases spoken simultaneously]
How do we rescue?
How do we take her time upon us?
We have to look for her.
We’re counting sheep.
We just sit there and stare.
I think she’s gonna take a military parade.
You can’t do anything that loses life force.
Lisa’s a moment of concentration.
Include her in your sadhana concentration.
You have to look for her everywhere.
You do this till you find her.
I don’t think you’re far from her.
You keep her in your sights.
Go find her.
She’s a trade away.
We have to come terms with our sweetheart
beyond the edges of life.
Are we seeing things that’s not there?
I’d rule.
I’d run.
Come on let’s get this show on the road.

I hope I have every way to show you this to chef.
You’re ill-prepared for it.
It leads you along.
Shall we say it opens doors?
It’s a call to captain.
Where is that meditative moon?
Stoned,
nippity’s found her.
We’ve branded a dog.
No, we haven’t stamped our hoof on her.
It’s her human we’re worried about.
We’ve calculated her
to express this,
not in terms of consciousness,
in terms of inner being.
The consciousness rides along.
It’s got a lot of catching up to do.
We’re changing consciousness.
That dog’s a swirl,
the Luna that’s a Lisa beginner.
It’s our purpose with her,
any dog
that’s soul arrived.
Lisa accomplished this
before she died.
Luna is great in her shoes.
We’re babying her.
She gets the special treatment.
It’s her head we want her to follow,
nice and human.

She came to us a miracle.
Lisa died on social media.
Immediately somebody gave us a dog,
a baby Rottweiler.
A great confusion started.
Someone in the house kept her for himself
on one of the lower floors.
We fought.
I saw the dog in vision
several times a day.
They kept her locked away.
Sunshine she was.
They knew I wanted her.
They knew she was for me.
I knew she’d be mine.
She’s soul prepared.
Then the day came
they let her out of the room.
There was no question she was my dog.
I had seen in vision the day she’d come.
Her days she came with me.
Soon they stopped getting her at night.
This was my joy.
That dog was my special angel.
Still is.

We trust her.
A little baby rides on her back and pulls on her ears.
She has Nitish in her paws.
That love’s a spectacle to see.
She’s the special dog in the room,
and everybody knows it.
She’s part of my intelligence.
I’ve ego-bonded with her.
Dog is wonderful for that.
Love bonds us closeness all day long.
She’s up against me now.
To pet her is a thrill.
I have such joy seeing her.
She’s like my little boy.
This is absolutely free and clear.
No zoo feelings crowd my day.
She’s a wonderful device.
No one sees this potential in dogs.
Want a puppy
grow up,
and a child has arrived
no hassle.
There’s a child;
you’re learnin’ to love children without offense.
You learn what normal people feel with children.
Those parts are left alone.
They’re kinda gross, aren’t they?
You even learn how to give baths:
okay I’ll do it.

Now that boy beside me,
and his breaths are a rhythm on me now,
sleeping Nitish,
I take him to dog.
You, see the relationship.
Great teachers dogs are,
like Rottweiler size
and demeanor.
You have to special them,
or they bite,
raise them like a human child,
with a whole lotta love and attention.
Peekaboo you little furry thing.
Can I just drown you in sweetness?
I love my dog.
You’re angry about it,
if you’re an outsider to dog,
or slightly amused,
What’s this stuff?
Yeah I know,
they only last as long as a child does.
That’s written into the picture.
You see it?
Let’s go agree with boys:
a dog is your best friend.
Thank you dog.
Okay I’m buildin’ bridges
and puttin’ Luna on one
on my mountain.
We’re catering her to human,
bringing her forth.
She’ll cross over into humanity next.
It’s where souls bring dogs,
and you thought it must be monkeys
that take that next leap
into human terms
from reincarnation’s bounds.
Dogs and cats sit with us
and learn human.
Can I reveal this on earth?

We’re a dog depository
to bring that forth.
We know what’s at stake.
We teach them human,
but we don’t dress them in clothes
and give them bottles to wear.
That’s ridiculous.
We don’t fry their brains with all that silly stuff.
This is mean.
We let them be dogs still.
Their humanity’s an inner release
we pick up on through dream and vision.
It’s not something you decide to do.
You watch the process happen
where soul and divine guide you.
It’s not something you make up.
We’re there.
We opt with her
and just reveling in her dog.
Oh we love her.
We’re a way station for dogs
that’s got this goin’.
Of course we have a house full of dogs,
and they all sleep in the bed,
roam the house like children,
and we do love them
like they’re our kids.

I will put up with you only so far as you’re dog.
No, I think everybody gets that special treatment,
kids most of all.
I’m holdin’ one now as he’s sleepin’,
and here comes the dawn.
I love this little boy.
It’s mind expanding.
We’ll chariot dogs
to their drive human.
This is our work with them.
This is what we do.
It’s soul arranged,
and you don’t pick them out of a litter.
It happens on its own until you see it.
You don’t bring dog into the room.
You don’t even know he’s there.
You get a soul revelation.
That’s how it’s done.
Can you grasp that?

One day we’ll be masters at this,
and what dogs will arise
and what human.
Meanwhile let’s find Lisa
and take Luna by the hand
and bring her over to us.
I’m showin’ you that happenin’.
It’s happened all along.
We just didn’t see it.
Soul evolution,
it’s not a Darwinian thing.
We created dog for this
as we got more sophisticated,
so they’d take on our role,
and our species would be spared
from evolution’s gamble.
Primitive man didn’t know this.
They didn’t.
What a surprise dog in hand.
It manifested from soul ground,
the real push behind the world,
and we’re lettin’ it happen
where we live.
Dog and boy
get some good clothes, you know?
Luna
gives us her view.
I’m hip.
Can’t take it out.
You remind me now
of the leaves on the tree.
I don’t care.
You know how chamber work.
You fill it
when you’re in there.
When you’re comin’,
you’re not too concerned about it.
Excuse me sir, no way does the city reopen.
I’m inclined to believe that.
I just keep goin’ dog.

Let me relieve that.
I’m all about the bound today,
kitchen sink.
Mind wear a popsicle.
Mind wear constantly reoccurring thought:
I’m listenin’ to yah.
The rise of dog,
such good tidings.
Now can we title this?
We have correct terms.
Down the beaches.
We have an attachment mule.
You’re just in the way.
Too much affection brings fear.
You’re hands are here:
never lose her.

Well I have a question.
Is attachment always the end result of love,
avoid it by backing off physical intimacy?
What high Heaven you from?
I wanna pet my dog.
I need this
and not just for affection.
This was divinely arranged.
I wanna talk to the divine that arranged that,
not the aloof mule.

The thicket,
it’s in the house of thought.
Grab thought by the horns.
Don’t let the people go
I am to confront.
When you pet them your hands reinforce this.
We steal Douglas
alright.
You guys never touch,
or once in a blue moon.
With Lisa,
you can’t touch her,
but the attachment burns you all day long.
What Rottweiler
eating
in your mind
I love that dog, I love that dog?

Can we not love our dogs?
You’re just not the formula to bring peace on earth.
The mom packet,
would they love their children?
What do we do here?
Do I go at room daddy? [spoken in Nitish’s voice]
Take the boy skiing.
Let your hands tell ‘im you love ‘im,
and keep your hands free of life force
by grasping him right.
Don’t eat on him.
You’re giving him affection.
You can so easily confuse that.
There’s a free and clear feeling in your brain.
You’re not holdin’ your attachment.
This is not a possessive article.
You pet you free.
They need it not you,
and we’re comin’ along here to the bowels of enlightenment.
You don’t grab the world as sustenance,
either in your mind or in your hands.
You can love dearly
and not consume the other’s love.

We’re calling on you to be aloof
in your mind’s eye.
You study God.
You’re pettin’ Him.
That dog is just the occasion.
Now call Lisa in your mind,
and you’re not calling her for your sakes.
She’s bound and needs your help.
Your attachment has hurt her,
and you need to let go,
all the while feeling her.
She’s God’s child.

Now can we get this straight?
It’s an attitude you hold in your mind
so the vital doesn’t eat,
and you don’t breed attachment.
This is the integral healing.
This is the mainstay.
Take these ingredients and go to darshan with that little boy,
holding him in God’s love. [November 24th, Day of Victory]
Study enlightenment,
and all dogs get this special treatment.
We’ve solved the moon
with flesh on earth,
and it feels good, doesn’t it?

That’s a pretty ugly kid,
need to help ‘em
growin’ up.
We don’t just let street dogs loose.
Can we not kill them either?
A facility
in the neighborhood
that helps them
just makin’ rounds.
Can every neighborhood grasp one?
Take this one and spay it,
that one and neuter it.
That’s every street dog in the neighborhood,
and we let them live in the neighborhood
until they die out.
We’d feed them care for them.
The street’s their neighborhood,
not the facility,
but the hospital’s there.
The one that bite,
we can’t let them do that,
and some just have eyes for humans.
We’d adopt those.
Can we get along?
We can sure help street dogs.

Today at 1 o’clock we have 36 minutes.
That is the one to throw out the dog.
I don’t think so.
He cares about people.
We’re friends for eight hours,
as long as I’m working there,
my whole shift.
Panic extra,
the second half,
we don’t school children.
This is a facility for dogs.
It’s not a language lab.
They visit,
I mean some kids.
It’s not their job to take care of the dogs.
[vision of Nitish in such a facility, laying on his side crying, focus on the side of his head]
For those wannabes,
they can have some chores there.
We need this vet
to come in daily for the program.
They’re there to take care of the program.
They’re there to treat dogs,
the strays of the neighborhood,
not the pets of the people there,
else they lose their time at one facility.
We gotta thang goin’.
It’s a hop, skip, and a jump away from a small warehouse.
It doesn’t dispense medicine.
See your local vet for that.

We’ve got kids who clean the place.
Oh do we?
Those wannabes.
They wanna be somebody who takes care of dogs.
They’re not punished in the sun.
They help out around the place.
They don’t have the shoe capacity
to be regular employees or run the place.
I think the dog lovers here are professionals.
It’s their occupation,
and they get paid well,
and they get scheduled right.
No 12 hour work week,
I mean days.
Regular time off.
This is all part of the plan
of the functioning society
we have to put together.
We are on our way.
You’re up on that roof,
tryin’ to fly this thing.
Good doctor it works.
I’m mean we get goin’.

You can’t get ‘em out this room.
They’re a vision bundle.
I’m about process and tardiness.
I see in vision
I give the world to care.
I grapple with this everyday.
You hear me speak,
and these are not my words.
They come from afar,
spiritual vision.
I’m not the author of these programs.
I don’t choose what to speak.
It comes upon me.
It’s on me now.

What flavor is this?
I want to become the world
everybody sees
and every freedom in there.
I want to hope guide you
so that we all become better people.
And you see this vision’s for me.
I change the world on my terms,
as I see the visions.
The visions come through me.
They deal with my stuff
in world terms.
I’m their lawyer.
I could be a better vision.
I could do a better vision,
and here I am improve.
On with the show.
There’s a large program
we need to see immediately.
Do we do somethin’ here?
I felt hands press me awake. [vision of this line in the middle of a page, typed, and it sounded in voice loudly]
What is the soul of Halloween?
Your Rottweiler on the other side.
We see the dead,
and we watch them die.
They grotesque
in transitioning.
Donny do you see this?
We come together on purpose.
We have to bring your Rottweiler to clover,
the place of paradise.
That’s her transitioning now.
She’s a visual leftover.
I see her the way she’s dead.
This is not nice to look at.
You can’t always say she’s Rottweiler.
She gets all mixed up.
Isn’t that the form of dog?
In gross overlays.
She’s morphin’ into her death form.
We can’t see her,
and it’s a clear certain form to look at.
She’s dead.

I don’t know how to look at her—
strange form.
She comes up to you all the time
in the image of dream.
I don’t think you grasp her yet.
You’re lookin’ for her.
I don’t know how we come together.
We just keep tryin’.
It’s okay, she sees you.
Then why can’t we open to each other?
This is comin’.
You must continue.
I have so many questions about her state.
I wanna know if she’s cared for.
She’s a little dog.
I think she gets a warm hand sometimes.
She’s met some kind souls.
She’s comin’ for you.
It’s just a matter of time.
Keep her in your sights.
She’s comin’.

Okay I’ve said my piece
on the division of dogs,
the real live orchestra.
It’s a different kind of dog
we humanize.
It’s not an arbitrary every one.
You can see their self-awareness.
It’s not the way they lick themselves.
They’re lookin’ at the world
they’re so aware of their place in it,
and that smarts.
Their dog day has begun,
and they know there’s more to it than that.

I Share Children with Her

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

feature image by Donny

You give healing meat its substance.
You’re way out there,
right in the slot of truth.
I don’t think anyone understands this.
You’re a miracle:
nobody’s touched you;
all the help you get.
You really show people somethin’.
Most people don’t know it’s there.
They’re too based in ordinary.
Okay we climb mountains,
keep goin’,
just press on.
We’re goin’ somewhere.
I hoped you a-l-w-a-y-s thought me u-g-l-y,
you thought me friend. [this and above line heard sung in the voice of Don Williams to tune of "You're My Best Friend"]
Our best teacher,
we’re talkin’ soul.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Think Oil.
You hear soldier.
Oh man you don’t stink.
You’re chasin’ a good one.

Okay you got the preamble.
I would like soul need determine time.
I want to talk on the level of soul.
Where do we bring this out?
Is it evident anywhere?
How do we talk about soul?
Do we meet it with the divine?
Where’s it goin’?
Where’s it come from?
How long it’s been?
Does it explain us?
What is about soul that makes its process?
Does it rule time?
Where can it be found?
Is it perfect?
Can we touch it?
How does it find us?
Is that all there is?
How do you add it to the program?
Can we say it’s substance?
How big is it?
Does it search us?
What are its parameters?
Can we get at it?
Is it Black,
or would all colors fit its lifestyle?
Is it here among us?
When does it die?
Is it our only project?
How did it get here?
How do we communicate with it?
Does it know us
as the thing that does?
Is it our true nature?
Is this soul a concept or a divine?
And we go round and round.
The soul asks more questions than it answers,
but we can look at it.
Can you?

It’s here.
I think it’s from another planet.
It’s put us on.
That planet’s another sphere,
the reality behind reality.
We are its goalkeepers.
We fumble ourselves all the time.
We don’t know how to do it,
take soul and measure up.
It’s the substantial reality behind us.
It’s put itself here.
I think that’s phenomenal existence.

The soul is a dome
phenomenal existence fits inside.
It was here first.
I don’t think we cant touch it with our hands.
It’s not the reality we see.
It’s got our backing.
Where do individual souls fall in?
Let’s say they’re here.
This is not pepper spray.
You can help put ‘im on
that things might get hurt.
This is the ballpark.
Hello soul—
this is an individual flavor of existence.
It’s got cans on it.
They go through time.
That’s the flavors it carries around.
It’s expressing your life.
See the flavors?

All these tunes
express our life to us.
So many layers to the soul.
It’s a great big getaway.
There’s nothin’ else to it;
it’s the ground of its own being.
It represents us in time,
and we are representative figures
of this thing called soul.
We express it everyday,
and our body is its leeway.

A deformity,
an ugliness,
awful, isn’t it?
You’ve needed that to get along.
If you look at the world as a container,
that doesn’t fit.
All things are expressive of soul,
even the ugliness.
The world touches you there
like it’s probing you.
Awful, isn’ it?

Keep going.
This expresses you,
the dynamics of this life.
You’re carrying that with you
for an example set.
You have to learn from this example.
It’s so pressing,
and it’s so physical.
I think everybody knows I love little boys.
How ugly is that?

I am one case where the focus
bounced off the movie.
Sure enough he was.
I came to souls in the room.
They were everywhere.
Try fucking a soul.
They don’t want you to do that.
You don’t abuse a soul.
You just don’t.
It’s the basis of reality.
It’s got bigger than life.
There’s no abuse possible.

Are you expressing soul when you abuse somebody?
You’ve stopped doing it
a soul becomes visible.
We are all relating souls.
They transcend time.
You cannot harm them.
Violation is impossible.

Life is a field for the soul to work out deities.
The human soul is not divine.
It’s something more fundamental.
It’s the substance of deity.
We don’t hinder it
as it brings deity to the human room.
It’s expressive of deity.
It helps us put that on.
That’s our purpose here.

Can you see the soul bringing up life?
This is the arisal of everything.
The substance of soul has a field to play.
It’s putting on itself
in ever increasing rooms.
I don’t think you can touch bottom
of the soul’s play.
Can you imagine infinities within infinities within infinities?

And here we are in our room.
So much accompanies us,
so much to do.
Where do we go with this?
Towards the substance of soul.
We layer ourselves.
What has made it to the surface
is a little play in time,
this little portion of us
we so mistakenly confuse with us.
It has all of us behind.
My God the soul,
it’s there in the room
the container of existence.

Jerrycans of abuse,
I was the orphanage.
That’s our predicament here.
We’re bastard children
a mommy and a daddy have left behind.
We can’t see our divine parents.
Divine origins allude us.
We only know we’re here
getting spanked by time,
clusterfucked.

We don’t know how to stop abusing one another.
We just don’t know how to help one another.
This is a horrible place.
It’s a prison house.
It just sucks us,
and time’s got its finger up our ass.
Dry, lifeless orgasms
is where life meets us.
We are probed.
I say again we are probed.
Our greatest joy can turn to pain
in the happenstance of death
everywhere surprises us.
We are dangerous keepers.
We can’t trust anyone.

Real amateurish
your whole monstrous tirade.
No, and I like it,
but I’m waking up.
The policy of monsters
we are bring to ourselves.
Are you really waking up?
Jeremiah 19:9 the most monstrous of all.

Do you know what?
The city didn’t rush in to defend you.
I’m curios to know why it didn’t.
You’re a monster.
They are making names
to make sense of their city.
It’s purple passion
not heart attack.
I had a hate here with wine.
This is the poison we all drink,
to be to ourselves our city is good.

Now are you ready for Christmas?
And here comes the soul.
That’s what keeps us together,
keeps us from falling apart.
It’s music you hear on the radio
when the world had just caved in,
and you know that song's talking to you
everything’s gonna be okay.
It’s that sudden smile you get
from some perfect stranger,
and it’s like a kiss from Heaven
because the rain has come.
It’s your mommy’s warm hands
washing your tender parts
not wanting anything for herself,
and you are seven or eight.
It’s an ice cream truck
comin’ round the corner,
and you have just enough for a cone.
It’s the great big beautiful sun
shining down on you
like you mean somethin’.
It’s the breeze
wiping the sweat off your face,
and you have just run.
It’s the lovely afternoon
your family sang,
and you will never forget those moments.
It’s your father’s satisfied hands,
and you’re his little boy in them
wanting so to be like papa.
I’ve embroidered soul
where life keeps you,
and it’s good.
This is the backup plan.
This is our special moment.
This can ride the day
if we lean forward
and let the soul lead.

It’s all about soul,
the house of life.
I’m afraid
the depths you have to go to find that
are deeper than the world.
You hear that
these are possible inner journeys.
You go inside,
consciously, thoroughly,
until you reach soul.
Did you know you can find it?

A conscious arm
you fall into it.
I think unconsciously we arrive there often,
else we would die I’m afraid
cut off from soul.
We have to come up for air.
This world is a heavy dress.
We take it off
in moments sublime of dreamless sleep.
I bet you didn’t know that noon.

In raw material sleep
we can find the drop off point of matter
and soul dream
larger than time.
We have journeyed to the soul.
It’s not a substance material make.
It’s the first substance of Spirit,
and it’s got no bookends to it.
A receptacle of our Spirit open and true,
that’s the phenomenon of soul.
This is the causeway.
This brings us to Ourself.
This brings us to the divine meeting in the room.
May come some horses
with some contrary will.
Yeah exactly.
What is adequate?
Is that adequate
in the fatal moment,
in the fatal heartbeat here?
Soul expressive of deity,
that’s meaning
that has us all by the horns.
Cans.
Go ahead drive her,
drive her over.
Pay attention to people.
You want a soul
happen so matter of fact.

Now let’s come back.
We have to put on soul.
If you sat regular times…
Bruno!
You always have to watch out for Bruno.
He’ll take your underwear off.
You have to do a preacher’s build.
You check in
and withdraw.
You look out,
and the watch ends
on visible things.
You have to come together on soul.
You have to see beyond life.
There,
it has your hand.
Let it lead you now.

You have to get somewhere in life.
The soul is your regard.
It will take you to deity.
It will remove all obstacles.
It’s your great ship.
It’s the navigator.
It comes to you in dreams
and exercises the world
tonight,
and you can see things clearly.
We help it along
by being ourselves.
That’s Alpha Zero,
enlightenment stark.
This is its great evolution path,
and we are fingers of its evolution.

We do not abandon us,
and we help each other clearly
when we come together on soul.
There’s where the abuse stops.
There’s where we know our promise,
for it is the soul that leads us.
The soul we are,
the substance of ourselves
leading ourselves.

I’ve called on you tonight
to be the witness of soul.
It is bigger than leeway.
It is so much bigger than time.
It’s us in the ground of us.
No gap, no divide,
prevents it from helping us.
It’s here.
It is only blindness separates us from it,
and check it out in a poem.
You know I’ve opened your eyes.
Should end right there,
I’ve told you violence.
I just turned and turned around and saw the soul.

The Well of Human Unity

On By Donny Lee DukeIn childhood education, collective consciousness, ego activism, seer poetryLeave a comment
photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Goin’ through the tunnel of a poem,
I sit here and write to you.
I puppy every morning.
That’s a little boy I get off to school
or get ready for the day.
Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed no,
he’s a bear.
He’s difficult to deal with
in the morning times.
I just do my job.
Stand around and baby me!
Hold that thought while I iron your uniform.
J.A.R.V.I.S., mach 4!
And on goes the uniform.
It’s a rush to get him off to school.
And there we go.

I really like my job.
I don’t get annoyed too easily.
I’m giving the world its fresh morning start.
I’m giving God his clothes for the day.
That boy gets my full attention.
He’s my special project.
What does he think about it?
You’d have to see it believe it:
he just wants to be with me all the time.
What do I give him that other people don’t?
I give him the bell role,
and he sure makes use of that bell.
I am so delighted to be in his presence.
I cherish him
a devoted man,
hang on his every word,
well almost,
and just shower him with attention.
We’re not always there.
So much time we spend alone
doing our own thing
in close proximity.
Even now he’s on the computer
a few feet away.

Why do I give him this attention?
I can’t give you a label that fits.
Nothing I can call myself works.
Pederast, pedophile, boy lover,
I think you’d think of sex.
You don’t understand.
I love him
in that special way you love boys
when they embody to you your other half.
Let me explain.

I think we all desire union
with a person to fulfill ourselves.
It’s not always the opposite sex.
I think you’ve accepted gay and lesbian unions,
although some people still have problems with the sex.
Well here we are with a boy
representing my opposite half to me.

Okay put God there
you tell me offended by the relationship,
and that’s what I have done.
The boy’s not God for me.
God’s lookin’ at me through that boy.
Now imagine if you really saw this.
I’m not there to harm him, am I?

Granted,
it’s not easy to sacrifice sex and the romantic squeeze.
You do it because you have to.
You love that boy.
You love humanity,
and God you love,
and you don’t forget you love yourself.
Now tell me love can’t do it.

It is stronger than your hate,
what I’ve had to overcome to sacrifice sex,
your hatred.
You’re the biggest obstacle a pedophile faces
in making it right with children.
You can’t even see this.
Sitting in your buffered self,
you can’t see your hate reach the world.
Consciousness is to you a byproduct of brain,
and the hidden consciousness we all share,
you just deny.
A bubble’s worth,
it means no more.
Are you following me?
Now what do we do with pedophiles?

Now tell me love isn’t strong enough
to get them to love kids right.
You are so mistaken with your animal impulses.
You give hate the day.
A pedophile has a purpose if he could be made right.
Let’s grasp a little boy by the horns.
He needs a lot of focused attention,
and no not every pedophile would have one,
and I don’t know how many little boys need a pederast at their side.
Soul manages things,
and we’ve got so much to learn to let it do that.

I’ve made a beginning
to give you this example,
the making of a poet.
Will you hear me?
Anyway here we go.
Let's book ends meet.
He's in patterned straights.
He has the divine attention.
I just look after him.
The divine attention melts
into that he is a poet.
I keep him open to that line.
That's my job with him.

The logic of a poem,
it’s clear on certain things.
Let’s play with boy love, shall we?
Every boy has potential
to be something worthwhile in this world,
I mean in human stakes,
raise our integer.
I’m sorry girls too,
but that’s not my discussion today.
You think I’m talking fame.
I’m talking make us a better people,
and many are unknown who do that.
Now where do we bring the boys along,
the ones who have that mark
of adding meaning to our lives?
Why not a pedophile brings them,
not barring other people can?
I don’t think you know the meaning of pederasty
as an ideal mentoring us along one boy at a time.
You imagine only sex.

And where do we take this vehicle from,
in its proper form,
what brings humanity closer to itself?
Have you ever heard of human unity?
No believe me you have not.
Every area of human life
has to charge itself to human unity.
Every perversion has to find the divine purpose behind it.
This is not a communist manifesto.
God is the unity of all,
the God that brings oneness
as the guiding principle of our lives.
It’s a process of soul.

All our ships will have to be recommissioned.
Every institution,
marriage, family, law and order,
and all our means of employment,
has to produce human unity to survive.
It’s a lofty idea.
Put in practical terms it means fundamental change.
The very engines of society have to change.
Anybody who they are by nature
will have to be dealt with
in the light of human unity,
the most perverted,
and it’s there we reach harm’s end.

Nothing is done we prepare in school.
What would it be anyway different?
Look who we are
and match with that who.
Perfection comes from both of them,
the creature of the world
and the creature of God.
Bruno!
Ideology
can’t put up with this,
someone dangerous.
I don’t think an annual wait would work.
You would have to show them
the way of life to change.
Oh my God experimentation,
how you have to do that.
That means it can’t be a national field,
set about by its laws.
It means overturnin’ bein’ human.
I’m there with a camera
right in your argue belt.
We’re almost there,
where you see my contribution.

Individual's place power,
look at this.
I’m talking to you today
the very thing I’m talking about.
How do you propose this?
Well can you think of better circumstances
for human unity to come waltzing into the room,
when the lights of human unity Auroville are almost out?
The city will still be there
even when human unity is not
where it is taking itself.

You want Auroville the city of the status quo,
government-run Auroville.
You’re not going to produce the new human being.
No radical shift in consciousness there.
Rules cannot arrive at human unity.
How we’ll have to overcome consciousness,
all these formations of ill will floating around.
Tell me the outer process sees this.
It takes an inner revolution
overturning society’s ways.
We need circumstances for that.
We need Auroville.

And there you are in Auroville
arguing for land this and that,
ecological green, the keys to the office, what have you.
Something more fundamental’s at stake.
Can you see where we’re at?
We’re at the very crossroads of the city itself.
Who’s taking over,
the ordinary way of life or human unity,
and who will Auroville produce,
just more people or the superman?
It’s time for you to decide.

The Indian government can’t do it.
It will just produce the Indian government.
It has no means to outgrow itself.
You’d need a charter that says what it needs,
and we go from there.
You have the charter in your hands
the Mother wrote.
To listen to superman,
he's always on time.
Where are you gonna get a map?
Look right here.
Can you see the way?
If you're like me,
it'll take you awhile to see it.
And another little baby child is born in the ghetto. [heard sung, by Elvis]
There's just so much at stake,
and we need to hurry.
So race to human unity on itself.
Alright news, listen.
Cause man help.

The Killer Find

On By Donny Lee DukeIn Inner Voice and Vision, overhead poetry, Poetry, soul healing, spirituality, spoken word poetry, the integral yoga, the Mother and Sri Aurobindo, the psychic being, the soulLeave a comment

The Killer Find

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

A Soul-Dialogue Between a Poet and the Leader of Islamic State

On By Donny Lee DukeIn Dreams, overhead poetry, video poetry6 Comments

I’m sorry, but you’ll have to sign into Internet Archive to see this video.

This video was taken down from YouTube after 7 years up, which happened on October 31, 2022, and I’ve updated the post accordingly. I contested it, and they reviewed the video and removed the strike against me for violating their terms and policy, saying the violation wasn’t as severe as they thought. Their policy, along with that of all the major social media companies, keeps getting narrower in terms of what you can post. When I posted it the terms were more favorable to art depicting violence, if its intentions were to stop it.

Luckily, I posted this at that same time at Internet Archive, and they immediately made it so you have to sign in to view the video, and they later put it in their deemphasized collections, but it’s still up.

In a few years, the visible net will be controlled like television, and even private websites will be censored, but first it will be the big social media companies that will do it, are doing that now, and it will take longer to take down or control the the content on privately owned websites, and so we at Harm’s End are in the process of making our own website to put up our stuff, as many of our posts call for social change, and anything that truly does that is radical and would offend somebody.