What came first the chicken or the egg?
Why the egg of course.
Auf wiedersehen.
Is this is a prompt?
It’s skyward license.
I’m on the way up.
This will shake your world,
and I’m a pied piper—
hey everybody let’s go.
You’re sterile wars today.
I’m gettin’ there.
I have an honest day’s work.
My hat grows today Supermind.
It’s Supramental Darshan
at the ashram of Sri Aurobindo
and inside the whole world.
Comes once every four years,
leap year.
Did I shake you some?
Nobody’s doin’ it today,
where Supermind’s concerned.
It’s a blow out the top of your head,
on the top of the world,
beyond the universe.
It’s a station up there,
who you are inside
beyond all the lives.
It’s God up there,
on His first row.
We get bigger God.
You identify with You.
You’re there,
the origin of all your lives,
the Being you are in time
representing.
You are there You.
We come back to this,
as our being gets there.
I don’t wanna get this wrong.
We are representative in time,
representative of That,
this station above our heads Supermind.
It’s a golden foyer open
in all its glory.
We haven’t gotten to that yet.
The Mother released it into the subtle physical.
It’s yet to invade matter,
but it’s there on our tops,
if you’re old enough to get there
in wheels of sadhana.
You can experience this,
and all the doors you have open to do.
They take you by surprise.
I’m there I said.
Oh no I am not.
I’m not even in Silent Mind.
I’m sittin’ down on my spool
measurin’ sadhana.
I let the supramental influence glow,
a time or two,
throughout my day,
because I’ve been up there you see.
Right at breaking point,
and I beam up there again.
Well I can block it all day long.
I’m holdin’ myself down.
Oh I’m sure your influence has somethin’ to do with it.
You don’t put together the world
hey look there’s Supermind.
I’m all over this.
It’s a supramental thought I write,
and I do it damn near every day.
The top of my head’s open
for to receive.
You hear this now.
Baby, I’m yours. [line heard sung by Barbara Lewis, line song title]
You know how the song goes,
“till two and two is three”.
I’m a supramental can.
I don’t give you the straight shoot the whole cigar.
I can’t.
I’m in Overmind bundles.
I give you some facsimile thereof.
I’m talking to you
so many think cans
an overmental thought wore.
I’m not the direct Sun.
I couldn’t even try.
We haven’t everglade that yet,
the world is open to Supermind,
and it writes our poetry.
There’s a balance
between error and what’s this shit?
Okay who corrupted my piece?
We are aware of those.
Now you wrote
the most healthiest thing to say
if you were formin’ Supermind
to an overmental audience.
We’re all overmental today.
We are on the plane of the cosmic Gods,
anywhere we touch religion
and put on spiritual shoes,
and Overmind formed civilization,
if you didn’t know.
That makes us pretty overmental,
any way you go.
It confounds the animal,
and it makes us man.
Did I get that right?
Or people I should say.
We’re good in it.
We’re terrible to people
who do not honor civilization.
We cut them up in little pieces
and feed them to the dogs,
even if we don’t love them.
Did I just say something wrong?
Well the Gods are merciful,
but our hands in Their laws
carry the day.
We just stood there and punished sin,
God there or not.
We are overmental beings
how we see reality.
You don’t see that pole.
You don’t even see me
an answer to grave letter.
I’m an overmental pail,
and I see into this matter deeply,
sittin’ here open to Supermind,
the bad man on Earth.
You get bigger God.
Not all overmental divinities are open to infinity.
I carry the Integral Yoga
of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo,
and overmental House if you please.
They are open to infinity, within infinity, within infinity,
and they are open to Supermind.
This is a Tamil bakery plan,
and it’s all over the place,
but Supermind arrived here
in the Mother’s plans.
I am the supramental manifestation on Earth.
And you would be wrong,
if you brooded there.
The Mother didn’t manifest Supermind either,
where her consciousness was concerned.
What am I sayin’?
You’d hear me say it.
It got on Sri Aurobindo’s tops,
but he did not abide there,
but he did not manifest it there.
He was a supramental being
in form only.
He didn’t get there.
Sudden shoot ups saw him stop
in the Supermind,
and all the glory he arose.
How do I count this to you?
Let’s understand it.
Though Sri Aurobindo counts Supermind,
we encounter him in Overmind,
as our uncle and our sage,
as our guide and our teacher.
Do you worship this?
Do you just sit there and count stars?
Supermind’s above us,
and we do not get there in overmental ways.
I have all these knowledge bits for you to handle.
I am not a sudden sit there
in everybody’s glee.
I tarry you
in understanding,
because it’s there,
Supermind and Supermind realizing on Earth.
This is a different mode of consciousness
than God on Earth
in any form today.
We don’t worship transformation
hello God.
Supermind grabs us by the arms.
No, it doesn’t even call on our tops.
It transforms.
It doesn’t deity.
It’s just itself up there
lookin’ down.
We look up and meet it,
and in that look transform the world.
Do you snake bite?
I’m afraid you do
there’s no hope for you.
Everything’s about vengeance,
and even the Gods dry there,
in wells of compassion
they can’t seem to rise.
Where do you go for healing?
Can we tell the public you do?
This is Supermind’s regard on the world.
It heals stuff,
transforms its nature.
It uses the very stuff of nature
to do that.
My how amoral this is.
Right in nature’s man,
it takes a man’s vice and heals him with it,
heals him with his sin,
changes it,
perfects it,
gives it divine reason to live,
and all the harm has been removed.
Nature won’t allow this
in halls of man,
and we get stuck there,
not knowin’ what to do.
Oh it seems us right to punish.
Punish harder take out the stinger
it is believed.
Can I get you there?
It doesn’t work.
Throw a gay off a roof,
and you have a dead gay.
Who has healed homosexuality?
Oh if I said pedophile you would agree—
kill the son of a bitch.
What do we do now?
Give God the plan.
In sudden moments of universe,
I’m on my tops now,
basking there.
You’re there with me,
not all smiles.
My God the forms of this world,
they carry you to Supermind,
and they’re right there on our tops,
changing forms.
Do you see the God inside?
I can’t pronounce it none.
It’s where we get bigger,
lookin’ at the world through formless eyes,
letting the world get bigger
than her visage,
seeing behind the form God.
You can’t let a thang trip you up.
Nothing can get in your way.
You are bigger than the world you see,
and you find Supermind there,
behind the forms.
It’s been here all along,
is the ground of everything really,
is where creation starts,
in the supramental pail we are.
Supermind’s the ground of being,
as far as we’re concerned.
It’s what gives intelligence to matter,
is the look that set the stars to light.
We see it blossom in a flower,
so insects will eat it,
and pass their honey round.
It’s the arrangement of things.
It’s starred everything
to a certain hour.
It has no business here,
as interferers.
We can’t pray to it and get it to act.
It’s bigger than the Gods.
It has no fetters
the conditions of the universe impose.
It’s here I said,
in sudden storms,
not as a God acting,
as time being,
since it’s the nature of things.
Can you get this?
Would you believe it’s here now,
a time born storm?
The Mother and Sri Aurobindo arise
its fountain on Earth,
not as Gods,
as the beings they are,
set to this task.
You wouldn’t worship them there,
but they’re aligned with Earth
to see this through,
and they’ve picked a pedophile to bring it to you.
Do you see Supermind?
You can’t know its formula,
unless you do.
Transform the nature of the Earth,
can you get a better man than pedophile
to reveal what needs to be changed?
And he is not the revealer.
You are.
My God the piles of wood
we’ve chopped and stacked today.
Do you see them?
I’m there,
right around the corner from you,
and we’ll meet soon,
as the glory finds us.
You hear me people?
What do I say but WHAM!
It is the nature of things,
the supramental manifestation.
The title to the above poem came several feet from entering Sri Aurobindo’s room at the ashram in Pondicherry, India. I had completed the poem waiting for the room darshan outside, writing it all day, both at home where I live in the country and in the city, driving in traffic and sitting at various businesses and at the central park. The last line came when I arrived at the ashram in the late afternoon.
Harm's End 