image by the author, Earth in space public domain via Wikipedia
The world is at the skid point. We are so caught in this movie we can’t even see beyond. Tell me you don’t care. Tell me you’re hangin’ out clothes to dry, and your little one’s screamin’, and that’s just big stuff on TV. Got caught in the movies. I know you ache at night, just about to spill it all, everything you know about the world but don’t. You don’t know what to make of it it holds you so close.
Can we climb out of this? We can sure get lost in it. Will you play with me? I’m a poet from Skid Row. No I’m not a drinker. I’m a free world thinker, and I want the world to last longer than its appointment in the annuals of our sun. I’m with you on that. I want to outlast the sun where I know I can be happy.
Have you ever seen the world up close? It’ll finger your dickens. No, no I’m not talkin’ about the rovin’ mania all around yah— the whole teeming world as an entity in front of your face. Got boxes and spring cards, but it’s the real McCoy.
I don’t know if you know what I’m talkin’ about yet. I scrap it off my shoe no. This is a divine appointment in time, the world as an organization that brings God on earth, and we can’t get over the word divine. I’ve lifted up your skirt and showed you religious offerings. I mean an intelligence bigger than the skies that can fit in our green Earth and bring it to the next level. You think of the universe as a flat individual organization, but the many levels of the universe go beyond the universe, and I tell yah Earth is scheduled for that.
I’m far from the clothesline now, but that screamin’ kid, I’ve gotten into his ache. We want a better world, expressive of need, and the world as an organization can do that, be unto our need. It’s flat and big everywhere we look today, but have you met the world yet? That’s what I’m tryin’ to say so that it matters, so that we can get bigger than ourselves, knowin’ the world’s done with livin’ for your kin.
Bigger than any national flag, the world is our step-brother that needs to know its name spoken on your lips. Oh no Mohammad you don’t own the world, nor Jesus Christ, and certainly not Hindu or Buddha, and the Jewish people will not rule the Earth. We’re all gonna get goin’ to see the world in each of us, to understand its nature bigger than the machine.
Are you with me on this? I think you’ll fight me some, until we realize Earth’s got an appointment in blue skies, and we will all revel in it, giddy with the realization of harm’s end. Do you know that cost? Can you turn around and see the world today? Flabbergasted can you see it?
A step-mother, seven kids, and digital shock, can you grab that? Help me chase it to we meet the world there. I’m not horseplay. I’m the world looks in on you, not the teeming multitudes, the world as a being in front of you in time, and I’m travelin’ a poet to forgotten shores, what a seer give society, its determining wings, how it lays out itself and what it be's. It’s the arms of society to tell you the truth. You must not let that little you. It’s the One looking in on itself. You’re the One. I am really here for you.
Now sing along. You can’t fool me anymore by your nonchalance. I know the score. You can’t shoot me anymore either. I know what I’m about, and even dead I’ll know it, and so will my poetry.
Open up in there. There can be no losers. Bite into something hard. Stare into something new. I gave you the congressional service. No shame in that. A wardrobe you know you can catalogue here take this self: we’re goin’ to the end of society as the machine.
Sheltered animals move and breathe. They just don’t get away. What was defeated in Mexico? Waiting by the bomb. You’re encountering that work’s envitalment, and you can’t get out of it. Best documentary That Worked. What are you doin’? Getting our own hands dirty in blowing up the machine, a long action that we can do without war or blowin’ people up or shooting them down. Here I am doin’ it don’t you see?
Never mind the behavior they stopped us from realizing it. What was that membership? Blowin’ up the world in I don’t care, oh no. I’ll give you as much as possible to farm time freedom from the machine.
Love, it actually gave us tomorrow, is the active ingredient. I find that news with anything. It’s real and normal if you realize you have met the world out during the day in every box you’ve met today, in every pair of eyes staring out at you, all of it, the whole damn show.
It’s all a fantasy program. How are we localized here? This stays. It comes and goes in the realms of sleep. We are in a huge tin can, and escape is impossible if you follow the seams.
We don’t even know we’re in here. A big accident gluttons our text eating up forever. This is existence proper, with hot sauce. This is existence on earth, and we suffer here.
How is it done? How are we fooled so early? Not as sick as existence proper. We last a long time in our menageries. The fairy roads to existence startle all of us. It’s all a sparks’ weaving fairy dance putting circumstance in place the settled fact.
It’s a picture show to tell you the truth. Now where is that projector, and is it being filmed as we speak? Something’s funny goin’ on. Can you find existence in there? Can you even get at it?
It’s a big story-house in space that we can’t find the light of, and we are trapped in our rooms of single seeing. Better men then me have pulled these cords, but this is my poet’s worth, but these are my poet wings.
Where does it all lead to and why? Do we even find out at the end of the movie? I can take you farther than Earth in the rounds of Earth, and I can show you time in a bottle. You would not believe who we are outside where we imagine the universe. It’s the secret of the ages, and we carry its wind in our sails comin’ back to itself.
What prolongs the long game, and what makes us suffer so? Can I tell yah? I just did. The tell-tales of existence, I’m there. I’m in the picture show with you. Can you guys see that?
Can I fly my hypotenuse a jersey on existence, I mean cans? This whole world is a big block. Everything’s in small measure. There’s no room for elbows. I can’t get yah to change your mind there’s a bigger party than this. Your little room is your little room folding existence upon itself. I wear those sleeves too, but I get out and abroad, you know?
We are lifetime wears. It’s a stinking ship. Just ask your neighbor you hate, or all the money you make at the expense of other people, the information you give that ain’t true, the self-righteousness that drives your car, and all your thoughts bent on death for those who’ve crossed you. Am I leavin’ your telephone number out? I don’t think so.
I can name names. Even the good on Earth do it in. Would you love that bad person to death? Would you get out of your family role and bring a stranger to dinner to sup with your kids risk and all? These are the roles of the One in flavorful chairs, and I’m usin’ analogy to get at device. How can I tell you you sail too the shape we’re all in? Do you see our pumpkin? It’s a safe haven for everyone.
We are littleness meets the stars confined to one room. It’s a prison house of escape. We can go so many places, with narrow openings, and it’s a secret from the crowd. I can’t prove to you I’ve been there, but you hear that sound now. I’m tryin’ to get bigger Earth, so we can mean somethin’ with our lives and not take a stranger to death.
I grapple with existence like it’s my magnet, all this poem to pull you along. We’re going to get there you see. It’s only a matter of time. It’s larger than wood, than our feelings’ meanings in time. Our thoughts can’t get there except on some spaceship that’s blasted off from Earth bigger than any thought you’ve ever had. We’ve got to bust out of our shell in the pains of life oneness denizen models. You know I’m countin’ score.
Now let’s get on with it. Can I give you a blog as a purpose of a universe? You’re not going to believe it’s in time, the whole meaning unfold that meets us right where we’re at. Harm’s End I’ll say it again and a collaboration with the unknown, and some Twitter eye in focus. I’ve did it. I’ve grasped the universe right in your pocket. Start with this poem and go from there. You will arrive at the universe I guarantee it. No one has done this before with their hand on the button of life.
I’ve surrendered you to abstractions. Do add-ons care? May we hit the role in the machine, get to very deary wood. I’m a pencil outside of myself. I’m not the me generation. Can you generate outside of yourself? Can you get there? I am the center of everything, and as much as we see this we don’t. We judge by selfishness a bottle unto ourselves.
Can you put yourself in the murderer’s shoes? Can you be someone liberal if you’re conservative? Can you be that priest that molests kids if you’re survivors of incest? Alright can you just be your wife if you’re too tired to deal with the kid crying at night? Can you be your neighbor, and they need you to take their kids to school, but you’re late for work? Can you be the guy at the grocery store that’s asking you for small change or at least I see you smile? Can you be your coworker late again, but you don’t tell anybody? Can you even be your kid, and he’s been caught with his pants down not to your sudden fury? Too tired to go to work, we can’t identify with people. We can’t look outside of ourselves.
It’s all the rage be offended. You know what I mean dear heart? You know what I mean expanded notion? If I haven’t hit home examine yourself. You’ll get better.
Now where do we play school? Getting bigger than ourselves in life’s little room. Watch those reactions. Give some pride to other people. Is that too tall for you? It’s what we’re here for in the basics of bein’ human.
Oh my God this mind stinks, and we shoot it down with bright ideas. Did we reach anybody? Only the choir. Oh my great big beautiful humanity we’ve got it all wrong. We heart with each other. We expose ourselves to vulnerabilities of feeling. This is the prize in the room: that heart’s safe to be with, you know? It’s what they remember you with, you know?
You can land a hypotenuse all over the freeway to capture the sun’s rays geniusin’ your way to a household name, but those around you know your love, how your heart is around people. We educate the mind, put it first in school, put it only in school as what matters more than anything else, and we are heart matters with each other. The rule and scale of mind is not our hypotenuse. It’s not where we get along with each other. The heart owns the whole show. It lifts us up with each other.
Can a poet say this? It’s where we abide in time. It’s my wake up to you. It’s where we meet in verse, and you hear me. It’s our meaning with each other. God rest his soul. I’ve done all I can to reach the heart of poetry. I smell the four winds, and I do hope that danger’s not real. Know how it feels to have said too much from the party line where the authorities don’t let you, not even in poetry. So long today. I hope that’s not all she wrote. A case that does not take square time became an artist. She finally took the picture that brought it all to bear. Can you identify with the wife?
Have we always been human and universal Brahman? I killed 14 people. Frying that up, do I lose my humanity? Back to the recent times. Are people just badder than before? What can we say about humanity? You know I’m countin’ sheep.
We drag clothes wear. This is not our first costume. Where do we come from? Do we come from ugly, or do we come from good? Do we come from the chaos down under, spawns of hell that evolved to light?
We’ve been in the engines of the universe for a long time. Are we emerging, or was this a soul’s fall into matter’s plight, great heavens we wore and then lost it all in a sudden decision? Are we universal existence lost in individual chains goin’ through trapdoors all the time? How does our unity play? How deep does our unity go? Do we evolve together or separately?
You think the protozoa created us scientific doctor, and we emerged to man, no soul in the machine, no universal existence beforehand, no Brahman with his gun. The fish in the sea are our ancestors on high. We dream of being human again you idiot, where life meets the universe on every frustrate world.
Is this all there is pond? I can speak from my crash course in reality, and we have scales of being that rip us off and brighten our days and sometimes hold nothin’ with us in the great majority of cases. There’s the earthling man, the universe revolves around this?
I have more fields to show the origin of the universe wears. I’ve poked my head out of the sky and seen more than I can show. You don’t know what it means to look beyond and carry the glow of the universe like it’s your backyard. I’m a small man in Earth shoes bustin’ at the seams with immensity, and I can give you a ride home?
I ride these poems too, and I’m a bucket in the sand joinin’ reality with you. We have more roles to play, don’t you see? And even existence is not all we are, but let’s get down to Earth, shall we? We are not the demon’s room. We do not come from hell. Escape it is our price— a real punishment you don’t need to worry about all existence long. And we were not once Gods, and now we are men and women, but of Godhead we did wore.
We come from beyond the universe to inhabit these fields of clay. We are existence before existence in the planetary field ride. We are burning suns each and every one, to use the symbol that ignites the universe. We come from on high. We are principle actors in a principle game that has stars for robes.
I just spoke the alcoholic’s din bin, the wayward president his lair, the child molester in bed with a child, and the tax collector at your door. I can get muddy these or just be an ordinary house mum or field husband or kid in school dreamin’ of what will become of me.
Lift up your eyes sweetheart. There is more to come. There’s the Diamond in the room, and all your lives lead to that as in the making of a star, the crash and founding of a universe, and we can be there kids. We can be there in great lone moments of the direction at noon. We can see the sky, have great Earth thoughts that make us feel God inside and hurry this along folks. Yah hear me kids?
What texture is your vision?
Is it otherworldly?
Is it right there on the spot with everything?
Does it see layers?
Can it figure out God?
Do you see the reality behind reality,
see that in everything in reality?
If you only see yourself
standin’ on nothin’ but atomic molecules,
do you see anything else?
There is no beyond the universe,
nothing bigger than any conglomerate you believe in?
Do you see a beginning and an end
to the concept of forever?
Do you see the forces behind the universe
making it all happen?
Do you see yourself in that
a representative player in a chess game
with the ‘figure-it-all-out’?
Do you see meaninglessness as only existence?
Do you see the meaning of the stars?
Can you see any bigger than your little figure on earth
a humpback in immensity?
Can you see yourself in the microscope of time?
Can you see what you’re here for?
Can you see what you have to do?
Can you see the meaning of this poem?
Can you it see it plain and clear?
Can you see I’ve shown yourself beyond time?
Can you see that’s your spot in evolution,
the journey beyond anything stars made,
the journey beyond the universal envelope we’re in?
Can you see that figure here
where you’re at,
a body on earth?
You see a lot, don’t you?
Wear Light
There is an honesty here I can’t seem to capture.
There’s guttural, bold-faced reality
we don’t know how to adapt
to our meaning lives,
to our ordered square one.
We’re faced with it everyday.
We negotiate.
We stand on our head.
We dance and sing.
We don’t know what to do about it,
make it so it works
where our lives face the world.
We just stand there and gaze at it,
not knowing what to do with it.
It’s just a great big mother fucker,
too much little in our lives,
a mountain highway
that falls from grace.
It’s a little bump in the road
that threatens existence.
Now I talk to you
about what we’re doin’ here.
Can we redeem chaos?
Can we take the barrel of the Void
and fill it with God’s wine?
Can we take God’s night
and make it show the world?
Can we be what we are in knowledge
to where we are beneath ourselves?
Can we be real man?
A little piece of God
has fallen into the light.
Will it ever see again
it is God?
I heard you on the stairway hum an old familiar tune [heard sung by Bob Ayala, "Silent Witness"]
with the yoga of the world where God has been,
and we’re reachin’ there, you know?
And I’m with yah buddy.
Abdicate in Light
I seem to see myself
apart from everything,
a whole world unto myself.
I’m inside myself
watching you out there
oh world events in time.
It’s special in here.
It’s got grand in it.
It’s incredibly vast
in the fingers of my see.
I can’t make of it
the right thing to you,
the all, the everything.
Can we call that for later show?
I’m a principle list
in the summation of my see,
and I grapple with you the same.
Equal integers
on this strange planet,
we broker a see.
Incredible, isn’t it?
Is that the only way to see stars?
Can we get out of this?
I’m holdin’ it tight
in everything I do.
Can you believe me?
Oh my God I believe you.
I really, really, do.
Hear me?
We broker a universe
in the substance of ourselves.
We are so down there, you know?
We broker a universe you know.
Get my wings,
and I’m free space,
and I give all that to you.
What’s wrong with this see?
I’m not there yet,
but I’m standin’ right beside you.
Okay I’m blind.
I think you said that.
That’s time’s worth.
Tearin’ outside the universe.
This is GoPro.
It’s not in your imaginary land.
We found the universe.
It’s so much bigger than bubbles
and moviemaking exactitude.
Oh my God the horror,
you think this rules,
in your image vocabulary,
absolutely mixed and purposeless,
so rich it scorches yah.
They don’t dream of bigger universes,
the people that propose media to us today.
Movie making madness
flavors humanity as its riding helm
traveling like features to nowhere.
Acceptance of the inane is the big game:
wow, that’s fantastic.
Nuts and fools
can’t stomach this game.
You’re an asshole.
I am,
the person pulling meaning out of nothing.
I use clairvoyance
to understand things are constantly changing.
I am the person putting meaning in all this.
We’re gonna surprise out of here,
once we understand there’s bigger than man’s wrought,
and consciousness goes in dimensions.
Once we understand our galaxy flight plan,
we’re gonna meaning out of here,
to the left and to the right,
to the up and to the down.
Narrow sense,
I can’t event talk about
what it means to blow past this bubble.
It looks like scrambled eggs,
the next big round of applause,
our getting bigger than where our acts put us—
beyond the machine.
We want that in front,
the next big step in front.
I’m sorry to disappoint you.
It’s beautiful.
It has the glory of who we are,
that has put little stamps of itself in this universe.
Do you see sir,
do you see?
So many universes,
they come down from Supermind.
They are visionary spectacles.
If I remember right,
Supermind is not the last field of the day.
It’s a big pitch of summer wear
from ever larger realities.
No beginning and no end,
got it?
Your head’s stuck in the multiverse,
where there are not different versions of you.
There’s whole other bases for universes
that we can even describe
so much different than elements are they.
Okay I’m the chemist,
and I’ve profound you a little bit.
Why limit yourself to just one concept?
Live in the sky, will yah?
Harm's End 