In the Arena of This World

photo by Mithun

Is that the dynamic?
We choir now.
He’s so little he expands your room.
Settled in myself to eat,
that’s the flavor of sadhana,
and we enhance.
It’s an inner journey.
We go for it.
It’s an inner cleaving.
We humble ourselves and do it.
It rebounds.
It grabs yah.
It’s an opening
you do when you’re hungry.
You’re hungry for God’s touch. [“Open to God’s touch” heard during darshan in the Mother’s room, and then the muse changed it as I walked down the stairs so it fit this poem that was coming as I waited for the room darshan and went through the line in and out of her room, the most of this verse, from the eat line, coming in that quiet activity on her death day]
This is the lifeline.
This is sustenance.

Try to prevent a fracture in sadhana,
a more sustained doing might do so.
I’m sure I belong there.
You’re here.
I don’t think we take the vital out of our room.
The right vital comes out.
The mystic of the flute lives on
on ocean’s rainbow.
[vision of an Indian-style key, the long variety, on the step of a concrete, light blue flight of stairs about two thirds up]
A key,
it’s hard to report
their bouncing effect.
You throw them away.
You don’t know how to use them.
You pour beer over them,
vital indulgences.
Now one comes.
Open its window.
Be there in the sky for it
all active on time.

[four visions, two side by side then the other two the same, of strange, colorful scenes I could not make out they happened so fast]
We interrupt your dream venture
to put you in touch with yourself.
You don’t know yourself.
I think you use a sadhana watch,
and they won’t fool you.
They tell it like it is.
You’re out to lunch,
and that other one’s over there
not climbing the street right.
You need each other to focus,
a small sum of human beings,
no more than a handful.
You fit.
You share similar interests.
You live in close proximity.
You can’t digital do this
as a group
come together.
Get real with one another,
nice and kind and polite,
not tryin’ to pass up one another,
not tryin’ to be mean.

[vision of Lisa, my deceased Rottweiler, curled up against an urban wall in a dog ball but her head up and looking at me, sadly]
Titties suck my dear.
You don’t get out of them what you need.
They’re not your bread and butter.
They test and try you,
as humans do.
Romantic love is hard to motion here.
I think you’re friends,
deeply connected,
why you come together,
how you come together.
You’ll recognize this in dreams.
You move on one another
in the friendship relationship of a dream.
You’re bonded.
It’s great to be together.
This gets deeper.
You family one another.
Respect this group.
Leaving it’s a soul’s choice.
It’s not based on petty arguments.
You will go to school together
learnin’ sadhana.

All your dreams come together in the group.
Everyday you share them,
work out meaning,
time.
This grows.
You do this all the time.
The inner relationship’s happenin’.
Now you go together
to sadhana central.
You want to do sadhana all the time.
A minute don’t go by without it.
It’s your mainstay.
It’s your life’s blood.
It’s what’s you’re doin’ in life.
You keep at it.
You keep goin’.

A small circle/handful of people [words spoken simultaneously]
do nothing else.
This is the basis of life.
It’s everywhere apparent.
It’s how you concentrate.
It’s there all the time,
always concentrating.
It gathers you.
It puts you in touch with yourself
so you see what you’re doin’.
No tellin’ where you are with yourself.
It could be at the beach.
It could be in metallurgy.
You could be climbin’ buildins,
playin’ in the street or in front of a crowd.
You’re always concentratin’
whatever you do.
The mind’s the game.

Now what does that what you see in your mind carry,
a present moment swirl?
You do there
concentrate.
Where do you put the bubble?
On higher than yourself.
You’re tryin’ to reach divine.
It’s the major of your focus,
connection,
contact.
You know the divine’s right there in front of you.
Keep the world relatin’ in that key,
and everything you do will be fine.
That’s the secret of sadhana.

I’m just ruined today.
Nobody knows me under.
I deal out cards
of bright shiny poems.
It’s just a reader’s poem with no readers.
Bad material I guess,
or awful writing.
My room is a way station and a promise.
I’ll hit the right note one day.
Sadhana science,
how do I show this to you?
Where do I go to show this to you?
It’s a concentration in your head
you stay clean for.
If I told you about the troubles.
I still go to college.
I got spirits in my head and they won’t go. [heard sung by The Strumbellas, “Spirits”]
You know I’m hearin’ muse.
This is a dictated poem.
You’re all fired up.

Wanna say somethin’.
It’s about the city of concentration.
I think I’m learnin’ to keep the mind quiet
not on external things,
and that time is optimized for sadhana.
These are the thoughts think about,
and you go from there,
put your own larger list together.
What is infinity?
What’s the nature of the universe?
Does God care?
What will lift my room?
Do I get larger than time?
Can I feel the feelings of another
through brands of consciousness?
What is the thought that stops thought?
Am I showin’ you how to think?
You’re up there
where thought meets the sky,
your husband.
Do you hear that?
We treasure this present moment
our thought taking us skyward,
and we are passive to that reach.
You put the perspective on that.
To those lonesome memories,
you’re naked to the eternal now.
Feel them that way.

Now we’ll repellant.
Thought gets in the way.
It’s not what you wanna do all the time.
You want to be clear certain purpose.
That’s a way of hold your mind
no words
or images.
Smoking the cigarette of thought,
chewing it out
like a stick of gum,
these are brands you wear.
They spend and they disease.
You don’t have to think.
I’m learnin’ not to.
It’s so much clearer in there.
When I go to sleep
I’m not a crybaby.
Monster in those movies.

I handle sleep.
I’m waking up on the hub of dreams.
I try to retrieve them,
or I’m writing a poem,
and it continues.
I spend my nights this way,
in a wakeup mode going back to sleep.
I get about six hours
all told,
seven
on this night and that.
My wakeup periods are long.
Like I say I’m writing muse
as the night bells ring,
or I’m layin’ there
where 	quiet meets my mind,
pullin’ on the length of dream.
That’s a sadhana sleep.
It gets you in touch with the day.
That’s been the content of the night,
if you know how to read your dreams.
Turn around and face tomorrow
your dreams carry you too,
and they show you yesterday
to know what’s goin’ on.
There’s just so much to dream,
but it arms you for the day.

And now you’re ready
to step out into the world
a sadhana-go-round.
Keep it simple,
keep it clean,
your honeydew in the world.
Behaviors lead to sadhana,
or they refuse it.
You’re a sadhana keeper.
Always remember that.
It won’t go away.
Like it can never reject you.
I don’t care how reprobate you are,
sadhana’s there for you.
It will carry you through the storm.
It will clean out your act.
You’ll get better because of it.
Just keep goin’.
Let it fill your room.
Don’t shy away from it
because you think it’s judging you.
It is always there to pick up.
It understands your needs
and will help you fill them properly.
It’s the intention that counts,
the attitude.
Keeping your mind quiet on the divine,
that’s your smelling salts.
It’s how you save your life.

If you’re an ordinary sucker,
you’ll have a harder time.
You gotta get naked.
You gotta take off all those clothes,
get down to your primal need
to fill your life with God.
One episode
of you are so filled,
just one time and
take this book with you for the rest of your life,
and you will do sadhana,
can’t help but to;
it’s in your nature now.

Everybody wants to know the nature of progress.
You love people,
identify with everything.
You’re not a grouch or a scrooge.
You’re good to be with,
not demanding or mean.
You listen to people.
It’s not all about you.
I don’t think you make people feel uncomfortable,
but you do challenge them
by the obvious depth you live.
You call to people,
not with your eyes your shoes.
That means you don’t mess with them.
You tend to prefer quiet
comin’ to the head,
not hours and hours of music
or all this environmental stimuli.
You like nature,
raw and clean.
Walks accompany your day,
walks through nature
where you can find it.
An animal can climb aboard.
You’re a big bucket of love
that knows how to pour itself.

This is what we know of love:
rape and murder,
and love’s right there with yah.
No one took the sign off you need to be loved.
All this spiritual growth sees that.
You love everybody you come into contact with.
You know what you love them for:
love heals things,
makes people better.
I don’t think you can fake this very much.
Spend some time with someone and see.
Alright spiritual advanced person,
let my count your love,
not anything else.
I wanna see yah love.
I think the whole point
of our spiritual shoes,
we get to know love.
A great big sadhana bring that out.

I’m a terrible husband—
this is the spiritual call.
I think sometimes it walks on your soul.
I don’t know how to explain this to you.
You’d think all would be right with the world.
You’re torn asunder.
You’re made to do things you don’t like.
They gravity of the situation just eats you alive.
You obey the call,
like I’m doin’ now.
You picked the wrong time
to blast a hole in my shoes.
I’m a servitor of divine will.
I’m servin’ everybody not sinnin’,
and here I am expose myself
to your wrath.
You’re not a noble person.
I’ve seen what you do to people.
You don’t love them atall.
So my head’s on the chopping block
the reality poem,
and here I am
giving you my bread
for the umpteenth time.
You’d think I’d had enough by now.
Anyway here it is,
a poem where you can do yourself
and make the world ring,
even if no one hears it,
and they just think the worst of you.

They’re not snow that’s obvious.
He seems to have a sadhana
that doesn’t get any kickback in return.
He doesn’t get validated
except by his team.
He is treated like everybody’s pariah.
His sadhana circle listens to him,
and others are few and far between.
He’s a real human being.
He got okay
on the wheels/wings of his sadhana. [words spoken simultaneously]
You have it now.
Reader
this is not brag or boast about.
This is the path to divine consciousness
and younger,
and you’re gonna need a little younger.
Open it.

A lot depends on the soul change.
When you’re young,
and you soul mother
in hospital,
we’re goin’ in some shockin’ of yours.
Well he quoted us all trying to see her.
You look like you losing what did you lose?
The ability to stay awake in dream.
You can’t do that,
let’s tend silly here.
It’s not your job to fight the Minotaur.
That your job,
trigger lucidity
captain this ship.
God dog does that look handsome!
Some fancy’s got you hooked.
You’re standing on the ability
to move on dreams.
Just get out of here.
Take your consciousness
and try it out.
You can go up and in from there,
up to the higher consciousness,
in to the soul.
Try it out.
See how far you get.
Obstacles determine pathway,
and you see what’s limiting you.
You really can get there from here.

Dream is a doorway
where you get started
to open the inner consciousness,
and there your sadhana rides
in its most visible form.
You need this
to survive.
Burn out early
if this is just all in your head.
The inner consciousness will take you there
to all the meanings you have missed,
to your direction of travel,
and you’ll see the divines involved with you
and get into soul things.
It’s your guidebook.
It’s your lamp.
Your teachers talk to you through there.
It’s a daily dose of miracle,
and it moves your sadhana along
a fresh start everyday.
This is the major element most sadhanas miss,
and we’re callin’ on yours
in league with the world.
I’m sure you got questions.
Begin.

Alright Donny there’s a truth to tell.
You’re bein’ spying on inside.
The thoughts get yah.
Oh she’s memorable wearin’ them thoughts.
All these thoughts on God culminate in that one.
When the bough breaks, [heard sung, nursery rhyme]
and you enter Silent Mind.
These are the memories to feel now,
the character
of enlightenment,
regardless of your pain inside,
of the happenstance of chance,
the resistance futile.
Go for it baby.

Keep the light goin’.
Don’t go to sleep.
Don’t her give up on that sadhana.
You have a world to change.
Say the same here.
We’ve got our heads out for miracles.
That’s a world line.
Can you show this to us sweetheart?
I’ll be back in about five minutes.

I’ve got tools for you.
I’m gonna use them first,
grow up Nitish.
It’s the army in the game,
and I’m a former Green Beret sergeant to show them to yah.
Not so hard on the kid,
but he’s gonna lesson.
There’s just too much soft flesh there
video game mode.
Cheerio.

This blog is not just to put my stuff on.
My blog is clear your highway.
Stop defending yourself.
What?
Skin spots are really east to spot.
You have to come over here
so I can help you.
One by one they ran away from my house.
Can’t figure out.
I had given you really good ice cream.
Her whole house was zoom zoom zoom,
and you’ve got a literature there tomorrow
to bring to temple.
Come in.
photo by Donny

You Too

photo by Donny

To the naturalist meeting in New York,
and that’s a wonderful paper.
Find divisions among us,
I think that’s everybody’s see the world.
You’re not gunna believe this,
but I’m the right wingman
to have us all see each other one.

Who else do you hate more?
Who’s at the bottom of the totem pole?
Who would you subhuman all the time?
Who do you crave to be with?
Certainly not the pedophile.

You are just so into guns
where you meet the world.
You just see and shoot
the aggravations gun.
How am I doin’?
You have a perfect score.
You did everybody in
that got under your skin somehow.

You just shot everybody with your mind.
Now we come apart.
You can’t take shooting sprees.
What happened?
Everybody shot the Lone Ranger.
This is just hippie bullshit.

You just put everybody in peril
when you came across with your gun.
You created division among us
that destroy people.
It’s all in the gun.
That mind is a pointed object
that shoots fire at people.

You don’t believe this.
It’s harmless you say,
making people suffer in your mind.
Does Earth manifest thoughts?
I can’t put this on the chalkboard,
but I can show it to you loud and clear.
Why did World War Two start?
The German people manifested pride,
the Japanese their rising sun.

Now take individuals and shoot them.
This is an execution in town square.
My God the executions there,
and the atom bomb goes off.
Can you make the connection from your room to there?
It’s a lively possibility
add up enough guns.

You see what I’m gettin’ at don’t yah?
We will just blow each other apart
every minute of the day,
and you see the emergency come in,
a check on our behavior
in the throw of our room,
where we meet the world in thought.

We meet them with philosophy
and let religion control our thoughts.
We go so far as to put something else,
something our conscience says no.
Innate in us
is a thought control,
a natural inclination
to be good to people
where mind meets them.

How strong is this?
Oh my God it’s breaking down.
Can you see this?
It’s everywhere.
We need to see this to survive.

You don’t know the power of thought.
You think it’s inside your mind
shut up in your head.
This is erroneous thinking.
We live in a thought field
you and I,
and it’s so immediate there.
We cringe one another.

Can we stop doing that?
It manifests on the field.
We find our hands expressing it in time,
our feet kick up that dirt.
We show the world with it.

We live in a thought field.
It has each one of us at heart.
We prey on one another,
just eat each other alive,
violate one another like there are no boundaries.
You know what I’m talking about.
You do it too,
and my God it’s real.

It’s spins the weapons in that direction
so someone else can use.
It gets the ball going.
It’s everywhere.
Oh no my childhood,
it’s full of holes.
Even my father did that,
once or twice.
Shut the hell up.

How deep this rabbit hole goes.
You don’t want to see it.
Can we come up for air?
Can we stop violating one another
in our thoughts.
It is so control the world that way,
and we don’t know how to control ourselves.

It’s an imagine gun,
and it takes ahold of our flesh and rides it,
so feeling toned, rich hued,
bottomless desire.
It has us by the horns
in those moments.
We bleed with it.

You know I’m drivin’ a point home,
sticky desire.
We come to terms with ourselves that way,
comin’ to terms with it,
seeing it shake us,
watching it win.

Just keep goin’.
Learn to put this out of your mind.
It violates people.
It’s got so much charge on it.
Can we come away from there?

Now you’re alone in your sink.
Your thoughts on other people are confused,
but you’ve stopped
the mind game.
You don’t shoot people anymore.
You just keep goin’.
You’ll come out on the other side soon.

You hear my thoughts?
I’m showin’ ‘em to you.
There’s a higher realm of thought.
I don’t live there all the time,
but you know I mostly do.
Only rarely do I go abroad,
and soon that will stop too.
I am a thinker,
and I spend time in wordless thought.
I go into the quiet in my room.

Great gyros of thinking await us
that will propel us to sky noon.
The layers of reality we peel back
and dimly see the One.
God is our living room.
We see world process in stark living terms.
We glimpse invisible beings at play.
We see the terrible and inane.
We have a glory of angels around our head.
We see the stars.
I think we join the universe.
We have some brooding sense
of who we are on high looking down on us,
feel its comfort wings,
know our lives its shallow dip in time.
Profundities rise
and take us by the hand.
We see all
like it’s a picture show,
and sometimes
the world is so thin,
ultimate reality’s a bare whisper away.

You see what I’m seein’?
You can’t get that look
unless you turn your mind from these surface arguments,
from the world of material things,
from being hooked all the time
on this, that, and the other.
Think large thoughts.

I’ve motioned poetry
to help us with our rooms,
to put us on the right bed,
to clear our thoughts
of all this imagining
that isn’t good to people,
to learn how to handle time.
Are you game?

I’m showin’ yah the way
to enter in relations with one another
that bring us the world together
that brings peace on earth.

Crazy doctor,
he’s always runnin’
a poetry see,
a show you this, show you that.
Will you take him in one day?

I got deleted
from my YouTube channel.
They took a video away.
Officer down!
It fought Islamic State
right in its ideology
in its gruesome videos.
It put the soul there
and the true ways of God.

It shot the soul down,
that censorship.
You wonder why they waited seven years.
Now what’s next,
my whole blog?
The deletion has begun,
and you don’t even know it’s happenin’.

You see the peril I’m in.
It’s available now;
I’ll stack you with
poems to read.
You think they’ll be up much longer?

The diversity is what is placed in that pile of focus.
I think we go to school,
learn to look in all things God.
What is the divine nature and where can it be found?
It’s your thoughts found the world you’re in,
and you go from there.
The above air in the lines’ all that matters,
but anyway,
movin’ all that mass.

What was wrong?
Your mind is a stronghold.
It caters to its own kind.
You can’t get at it easily
with your conscious mind,
the way a neighbor thinks.
We suspect each other.

But double down,
in your underwear,
open closed doors,
and you can catch your neighbor’s thoughts about you
and where they’re at in life.
Test this link.
The inner television
is kinda a body temperature,
and I’ll figure it now
one word:
peace.

You really want that to happen.
Did he trouble you?
Mustn’t give him
some blacklist.
I wouldn’t back down.
Be a light unto him,
and you are on the case man.

You hear them all the time.
You hear the community thought
with the bodies of your mind,
and no conscious person see it happen.
This is screened, subliminal.
You take them from the field your thought,
as you are fooled:
they’re your thoughts.
They come in your mind like you.
How do I know this?
I study mine,
and I’ve opened those closed doors,
and I study all the time.

Go Big Brother.
A few moments time,
there you go,
I’m off the net,
and you never even knew I was there.

Purple Guns Waving in My Hair

photo by Donny
Sit Bruno.
Sit media.
People are searching.
The official account sucks,
and all the fringe theories comply.
There you are with question tape.
Are you a fringe theorist too,
no different than all the rest?

You’re media worthy.
No one can deny that.
You’re not a division conspiracy.
You promote unity.
You give answers to burning questions
in the literature of true mysticism.
There is no fake in your account.
You weigh on things,
go deep into matters,
expose the core.
That’s not valueless.

If you’re gonna trust someone,
tell me why that wouldn’t be you?
You know how to speak the truth.
You just protect yourself.
You will land a lot of votes one day.
Big deal you say.
You’re in the thick of it now,
feeling like a fool.

I don’t want any of those kitchen parts.
I elevate mass shooting to lie.
We hear from the conspiracy keepers.
I think the mainstream media has a fact sheet,
and they got it all wrong.
It’s not individuals with guns;
it’s the whole damn society,
and we listen to man.
We listen to man explains.

Honey a higher power called.
It’s on alert.
That poet explains.
He was a link sunk because he was honorable to my heart.
Trapped in this animal explains.
This is not a localized crime.
A thief in the night has come.
He’s carried away your children
in body bags.
Now let’s control this demon.

You think it’s a hack job,
some guy alone in his underwear
just does everybody in.
We can’t lift our feet from this.
It is so in our face.
What do we do about it?
Study the phenomenon in aftermath.
We look at individual responsibility and gun ownership.
No one sees the ticket.
It’s a hate crime.

Hate is all over the place.
It’s gotten in our underwear.
We pick it up and shoot people with it.
Hate kills.
Hate is ever present among us.
It’s difficult to follow.
Bang! Bang! Bang!

That has come from an inner leaping.
We share consciousness in shares.
Ideas and memes flow between us
and the feelings we all share.
Pick up that gun and shoot it,
this is inner wear.
A thought has come
from the crowd.
It’s packaged hate.
Everybody’s doing it.
The inside thought process,
people hate each other.

Now this is the remote.
The lone gunman’s a brand.
He has all the right equipment
to pick up our hate and kill the crowd.
He was raised that way.
This happens everyday
it’s so big.
A suicide vest determines it
in other countries,
or a car murder weapon,
a knife or an axe.
It’s the same phenomenon.
We all do it.

Why?
We’ve picked up the virus:
we’re hating each other in our thoughts,
and we imagine violence,
play that in our mind.
Don’t call it a mass shooting.
We handle our brains,
punching people,
tellin’ them off.

Imagining more calamities
an exercise.
Well just do your neighbor in
if he offends you.
We box his ears;
we just send her packing,
all in a mind’s eye.
And there it goes,
straight to that rifle,
and a lone gunman
branded, look:
he carries everybody’s hate.

How do we profit from this?
Let’s go back to rooster crowing at dawn.
You just put down that gun,
that rifle,
give good imaginings to people
in your feeling thoughts.
I know what you’re saying.
I can’t get it in.

There’s a whistleblower.
It’s this specific hate you feel in a crowd.
Somebody’s hurt you
or your family,
or you see them on the world stage doing that.
They’ve done wrong and need to be punished,
even if it’s just offended you
by calling you names
or putting you down,
undermining your position.
You want them to pay for what they have done.

Can we see this is epidemic now?
Oh yeah,
cancel everything
to do with gun control.
It’s a family weapon.
We need it to shoot intruders,
protect ourselves from the vice.
We won’t let you in.
We imagine horrible things
in any commotion you make.
We use guns in our minds
to straighten people out.
Are you a gun owner?
Ever done that:
they just need to be shot?

Is that a meme?
It’s comin’ tomorrow
we control our guns
much better than we do now.
A daily gun,
systemic hate,
we take this around and show it to people,
all over the place.
We unfold as humans,
learn more about our stuff,
the inner side of relations,
and become more kind to everyone,
where it really counts,
in our minds.

I’m yesterday.
Nobody knows it’s there,
but I have to tell you about it anyway
and be not listened to.
Ladies and gentlemen,
it’s got our progress,
the poetry I share online.
You’re dismissed.
You hear the voices, don’t you?

Mobilization 9

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

He discovered that his Crimea life had to change.
I’m not talking about the pencil box.
We’re seein’ movies:
all eyes on the outer scene and you're in the movie.
How do I concentrate?
Remove obstacles.
Look at your life in purpose.
Don’t just stand there and stare at things.

I don’t know how to engage this.
Look at that rice on your plate.
Does it need you?
Yet it exists.
I need another metaphor.
There’s a dog in the corner.
It’s barking.
It’s baking.
It’s just lost in its own movement, you see?

You put yourself in everything you’re lookin’ at.
Can you give a free look,
free of charge?
Just look,
no questions asked.
This is less painful.
It’s not up and down.

The Source is just a remover of boundaries.
The Source won’t last long on my time.
I’m a question paper.
In this instructional video,
can we suddenly lick my nose,
make mean somethin’?
I wanna apply this to life
in the substance of my hands.
We process thought
so your hands help the world sunshine.
This even in the substance of your genitals
and how your dick holds the world when you look out upon the world.
Why the sudden graphic video?
Attention readers,
I think I got yours.
Once we go down there it’s hard to come back up, you know?
even in a poem.
I study reality whether you believe it or not.
I put divine values on everything.
Now I’m learnin’ to not bother with me.
A thousand runs will there it is.

We don’t want to invest reality with our stuff
in the substance of our see.
We want to be free in that look.
It’s like the doorbell rings,
and you’re not concerned about it.
You do not enter the picture.
Can you get that look?

It’s hard to bear/keep. [words spoken simultaneously]
There are so many things pressing on your mind.
This is thought control
at its most basic.
Can you see reality from here?
It’s got lines in it.
Crossing them means you.
A monkey sees that
swingin’ from tree to tree.
You can’t see that in your living room.
You’re not involved in yourself in reality,
unless your reality needs that look.
It’s screamin’ at yah.
Can get that look
on death row.
Reality has you by the balls,
and you see yourself too much.

This is freedom from spheres.
You have a long way to go
to freedom yourself,
oh world of my sunshine.
It’s not a substance of thought.
Your reality changes
the ground of consciousness has.
Wow, this is frightful
if you haven’t bubbled into it over time.
There’s no room for it,
with your leavin’ everything,
and you don’t know how to handle zero,
and everything’s still around you.
We’’ll get to that later.
It’s the culmination
culminated elsewhere.
This poem doesn’t go that far.
Here you just let go
of you as you stare at things.
photo by Donny
Anyway I’ve got a limited ordinary sword. [vision putting the image for poem here]
I can’t seem to see the forest for the trees.
It’s hot stuff,
because it’s got so much reality behind it,
but still there’s ordinary consciousness there.
Can you count the trees?
Can you even tell the difference
between a reality bin
and ‘can you see the trees’?

I am a lineman for the county. [heard sung by Glen Campbell, “Wichita Lineman”]
You’ve tripped up everybody—
a line you make.
Will it ever join reality?
We’d have to look at my poems awhile and see.
No one’s taking them to the picture show.
What form is that?
Can you get rid of me?
You’re not packaged reality.
I think the reader said that.

This is traditional English in the mass.
Where do all these bubbles come from?
A larger reality
that makes passes at reality
and even cowardly reality.
Much more was in conflict after Zelenskyy’s assassination.
Can we make Zelenskyy any bigger?

Planets and rallies in the corner,
the poet the symbol is a metaphor of.
This is so on your feet.
This is so operation from your mystery.
His society refuses him to speak.
You heard his poetry anyway—
lessons in accountability.

Alright throw him away for now,
and just look at bare reality.
It’s there behind the poem.
She was always ahead of the Path.
Can clear at any moment,
and she just keeps engagin’ in stuff until it does.
Do you want to see my failure in things?
It’s listed on the net.
And there it is.

Man it came to me at dawn:
I am now gonna make it to the top of the world,
with or without you. [heard sung by U2, “With or Without You”]
Do you hear my drivin’ point?
My freedom from midnight,
from all expressions of evil.
Can you hear that power?

It’s right where you least suspect it.
It’s in your living room.
Pick me up will yah?
Get into the rest of that television
mobilized for enlightenment.
Cheerio.

You can say he went to the doctor.
A lot comes out of that.
Good and clean,
those are the eyes.
Hallelujah.

I Can Touch His Own Feeling

photo by Donny

A poem by Donny Lee Duke

Yes of course you can go beyond man.
I felt the house alone.
I stood there on a bridge of time,
not expecting outcomes.
I just saw reality.
It was frozen bare,
and it challenged me to think
surpassing thought.
I was alone in the room,
and even Nitish was there
and my beloved dogs.
I heaved,
approaching the Silence.
It was an illusive prey.
Infinity stole my mind.
It grabbed me by the Silence.

I was a good day.
I cooked lunch,
did my duties
and took care of the people around me.
They were fighting their own battles
and needed my help.
I stood there and be a friend.
I listened to myself
giving them what they need.
I was withdrawing from time.
I stared at the gates of forever.
It orange glowed.

I gathered myself.
I didn’t have any pockets.
Things were to me on the shelf.
I craved no vital indulgence.
I was tired of the play.
Relaxing it was just to stop my thoughts.
It stood upon a verge of time
unaccompanied by time.
I was in that place where God was
the spectator in the room.
Sri Aurobindo held my hand.
The Mother surrounded me.

I loved myself,
faults and all,
but I was in transit from the center of the room.
I was beginning to smile.
I was beginning to hold water,
reacting less to things around me,
but still a reaction bore.
It was a principled state
that divined the reality of others to themselves.
I felt them Self with me.
I felt them safe with me
reacting less and less.
The world was a communiqué and a sound.

Still I was hated
in Auroville
and by the yoga.
No one looked at me
with kind eyes.
I understood and did not hate in return.
I continued to send them postcards:
help me
undo being this outcast among you.
It fell on deaf ears.
I was pariah.
Hello?

Great big bold thoughts,
when they looked at me,
gave them pause to think
for one second.
That’s it.
No one would talk to me,
except to brush me off.
I realized the condition of man.
We are animals in nearness to each other,
even when we have our high ideals
and so many rhymes to sing.
When you’re an outcast you see that.

We are stuck in our ways,
and change is a four-letter word
when you hit that most basic stuff,
someone’s morality,
their motherland,
their lens with which they view the world.
Can you tell me what changes minds,
open hearts
to what they are closed to?
What a position I’m in to learn that.

Our race is doomed,
and the divine has chosen the wrong race to foster.
Change is incremental and slow,
if it happens at all.
But then I look in my own eyes
and see what’s happening with me.
Oh my God we have a chance.
Oh my God we have a chance.
How do you fill in light?
How do you bring change into the room?
You bring change into the room.
It won’t come any other way.
Okay children?