Transcendence

photos by the author
If you are reading this poem on a phone, note that the integrity of the lines, a major feature of poetry, is not displayed properly. Many if not most get cut short because of the small screen.
I don’t know I think freedom is dangerous.
It gives us a timetable
to revolutionize society.
So we need to?
Did Trump invade Poland?
(like, does a bear shit in the woods?)
We have no greater need in society,
but this is not about politicians.
It has our housewares on it,
our everyday lives.
We need to change society
into what’s good for all,
into a whole nuther way of life,
where we can live out our potentials
and be ourselves.

That dose not include harming other people,
unless their harm is so immediate
to harm them now is the only way to stop it,
deadly force if necessary,
but you would kill me here.
They’re not death penalty do
or given any harm
that protecting us does not render.
These are separation lists
if this is another set of circumstances
other than the absolutely must be stopped now,
and here’s where we need to change:
every person’s valuable in our eyes,
has the right to be and coexist,
and no person is excluded
from this list.

It is only there we can find ourselves
in our worth.
We have potentials unknown,
unguarded,
and unguessed.
We are not here to swat flies.
Our purpose in living is beyond time,
but let’s get back to the wood,
shall we?

We are larger than ourselves.
We do not live in a bubble of individual freedom.
Our consciousness extends to the whole race
and includes the Earth in its habitat.
We share consciousness,
and our thoughts and our dreams ride the waves
of humanity’s spleen-basket.
We touch each other there.

Any investigation will prove it
over long, slow years.
A group of people living together will prove it,
who bear the remembrance of their dreams
and inner experiences
on a daily basis,
through their group.
Interpret your dreams is the first thing,
and this puts us back to square one.
No one can see this part of the shared field of consciousness
occurring between us every day.
It’s in symbols.
It’s not readily apparent
except in rare instances.
It’s not literal.

How can I interpret my dreams for you?
Can I speak ahead of my time?
We will see each other’s dreams
tear humanity down
and make a better humanity with it
all in good time.
We will see that the thought creates the act,
our thoughts in someone else’s action,
and we are at most fault here,
not understanding the collective will
bleeds harmful individuals
as much as it does those who are right.

We die here.
We lay blame here.
We have no idea what’s goin’ on.
We castigate
we confuse.
We are not in ourselves right.
You share identity with that larger man.
On the level of ourselves we are one.
Even in our individual consciousness
we bear the individuality of the whole.
We share identity
like we do rivers.
This is visible as the Self
you can even see in your mind,
play with in your heart,
before the change of consciousness ahead.

We are not here to remain the same.
We have duty
to change our very nature.
We are animals now
in a field, in a pack.
Herds upon herds of us
distinguish man
as nothing in particular
except the animal that lords over all,
destroys its planet
with so many feeding spaces.
It’s not a steward but a wrecker
of its planet and society.

Go into any home.
Animals lick their wounds,
feed and enjoy themselves
and prepare their young
to abstract survival as they have done
into the modes of man.
We do not create a larger type.
We make our children toe the line
of being human today.
We have no imagination ahead.
We can’t get our children there,
break out of this mold
of stupid us.

We have larger fields ahead,
ever preparing their day to come.
Very few heed that call.
Religion has been a placebo
convincing us we’re there.
You can work on yourself every day
and never find it.
It’s bigger than the moon
and the starlight,
but you can get there from here.
Anyway,
you have to make of your daily life a pilgrimage
to discover all that’s hidden inside,
to look at the outside in those discoveries,
the glasses of change,
and become yourself the larger man,
a lifetime’s endeavor.
That is not bound by belief.
You experience, you know,
and you move forward.

There are changes in consciousness ahead.
You will meet the Silence,
eventually,
and it’s within your arms to discover the soul
inside.
The roof overhead,
you will break in time,
and the seat of your consciousness,
your experiencing self,
will fountain out of the top of your head
into unknown regions,
into the larger field above.
We are in a clockwork universe
it’s possible to see beyond.
It’s possible to get up there
for a limited time only.
Several seconds
have exposed this poem.

Now what do I do
to climb out of words and show you my tattoo?
We have another field man.
We have to change inside our makings,
so much representative think,
so much put on the feelings of others,
so much be ourselves
and not society’s notion of us
or even our family’s.
Can you get that?

You know you have inside
so much more
than go to work, go home,
and there and back again,
than a craver for society’s wares,
than an eating machine,
than any enjoyment you have,
and you know you are bigger
than society puts you down.

Where are the handles on this?
You can’t find them.
This is too big.
A caveman has come and talked
to industrialized society,
to use an analogy how far we are
from the larger field of man.
I’m showin’ yah the wares.
You begin to live your life differently
than for a paycheck,
or for all these things you want,
or for solely your enjoyment,
or even for your kids, parents, and spouse,
for your loved ones,
but in every field I’ve mentioned,
you can make that the starting point
for your self-discovery.
You make that your means to go home.
You can do it there,
in normal life,
by making of yourself a pilgrimage
to discover that greater you,
to find that larger us,
to change society
in its very moving parts.

I’m not way off base.
I’m right here in your hand
revealin’ life.
Stupid me,
I go through weather patterns, you know?
I’m not enlightenment yet
or the higher consciousness.
I have vision inside,
and I get visited by great thoughts
all day long.
I move through the world
tryin’ to make my thoughts reality.
They come across as these poems.
I’m a slug in a handbasket you know,
in that basket spaceship Mother Earth,
a sluggin’ it with you
homey.

I can’t get out of this wood,
but I’m practicin’ sureness in it
we’re gonna get there.
I can see it now,
but I got hit on my bicycle
by a car,
and I’m laid up, hold up,
an invalid temporary.
Now that hurts.
The damn VA won’t give me any pain medication,
but they’re okay,
treated me nice,
commendable actually.
I don’t gotta go to work
for today.
I was on my way to work when it happened.
Stupid car,
didn’t see the sidewalk.
Now I can paint you poems
free and easy,
since that car
stepped in and made the universe prove,
for today’s papers,
need as poet
more than Mr. Grocery boy.
Halleluja, huh?

Look in a thousand years.
We will be larger than wood.
We’ve got so much work to do
that we haven’t started yet.
Fine, fine, meditate, practice
all these roles of spirituality,
but it’s in your hands you try
to find the roles inside.
Can you meditate while you’re doin’?
Bake that field.
Make the field in front of you God,
that person,
that task,
and there’s the secret to longevity
of the changes you make.
Hold a representative consciousness inside,
everywhere you look,
everywhere you turn around,
in all your life’s tasks,
at rest and at play.
You’re seein’ God outta do it.
Overhead that’s who you are inside.

Can I graft this to trees?
God is the All-Look in on itself,
the real behind the apparent,
the one he be looked to for change.
I can get lost in words.
God is our plan.
An unknowable All-Mystery
grabs us all
in personal sleeves.
Who-Done-It,
my God that’s good.
We love a good mystery.
We love to be sleuth.

Now hold my hand.
I’ve got so much more to show you than time.
I love those feelins.
Even my Luna’s the great One,
but that goddamn car,
I’m workin’ on that one.
It hurts you know.
Alright hand me down sleeves.
I know how to put you on at night,
goddamn in bed with the world
learnin’ duty,
learnin’ price.
The world goes deep,
you know?
The world goes wide.
It’s fine.
Even my dog says so,
and she’s on the rag.
I just go too far
in world faculty.

Pissin’ all over the place,
that’s the modes of man.
We are primitive land seekers,
and we don’t know where we’re goin’.
Let’s arrive at peace on earth
is our greatest notion,
or live in harmony with the Earth.
We don’t have a sense of ourselves
an evolving species
from man to a higher type.
Oh my God,
I just hit science in the nose.
It’s stuck in material process
and can’t even interpret our dreams yet,
or know that we inhabit consciousness together,
because it can’t see that far.
In animal vision, in animal man,
we can’t get over ourselves
or see that larger field,
or even get there.
Put bubbles in place,
we can’t swim out of them.
Can you?

Interactive city,
let’s ride some fences, shall we?
What names did I give you to believe in?
I’m givin’ you wide open stuff
I’m not anchorin’ down.
I want you to believe in yourself in your higher type.
That’s the coming messiah,
if you’re lookin’ for saviors.
It’s you and me and every last one of us,
takin’ these conscious springs of evolution,
a field of human consciousness has given us,
and evolvin’ don’t you see?
A gospel of everybody,
don’t you see that yet?

Put representative bowls in place,
I’m lifted change.
I got rid of my sweetheart,
a robbin’ piece of flesh.
I don’t need it anymore,
even in fantasy,
even in the attraction pull.
I was not normal down there.
I wasn’t gay either.
I see the mystery pull,
and I changed my life to prove it.
Now what do you get down there
if you’re not bothered with it?
You don’t get a hole.
There are ecstasies beyond this world
in a much deeper field of play.
There are ecstasies down there
attached to nobody,
all along the chakra-spine,
and your body can be in orgasm
shooting you out the top of the head.

You sexual spider-cake,
you’re not bein’ life itself.
You’re fooled by nature’s cravings
to continue the species
and get some craving relief.
You’re fooled by distant man
together again in one body
male and female.
I understand union reals,
but mine was impossible to understand
because nature had gone awry
and pitted me with another half
I could not join society with.
I had to change,
and I had to know the world to do it.
I had to discover myself.
I had to get big.
I discovered abstinence not denial,
and I’m not an accident waiting to happen.
I know how to harmonize life
and just be myself
in any given situation.

Can you do that,
or are you bound by society’s rules
that stigmatize yourself?
I’ve overcome you.
Men hurt
and women,
and I can find myself in a field of pain
at the drop of a hat,
at the turn of a phrase,
and do you know what I’m giving you?
What’s the price of change?
You can’t do it in today’s society.
Can I help you?
Can I be there for you?
And you will only read this to find crime,
you blockhead.
Is that the majority of us?
Do you find crime?

I revolutionize society
right here lookin’ at it.
I revolutionize society right in front of you.
Kill me for it, will you?
I’m on old pastured ground,
but I’m not visible to your eyes
man’s worth.
Nobody wants to put me out in the open
because I’m a dangerous man in these times.
You might get in trouble for it.
I don’t know why I’m here
speakin’ under your table right now
to the high and the low.
I could be anywhere,
but I’m not I’m here,
givin’ you my life’s blood,
takin’ out my heart and showin’ it to you,
so you can sacrifice with me
to the joy of the world
all our petty and mean,
any vehicle of harm,
sacrifice even your safety in ego activism par none,
not stupidly,
not shamefully,
on the field of poetry bounds,
or whatever art aids yah
to take the ego from its throne,
to move the ego from its peacock seat,
to end its dominance on earth.
You get my carryin’ dog?

You sacrifice yourself on the alter of life
in sudden epiphanies
of the inspired art.
Would that God stays Abraham’s hand
and doesn’t kill his son,
you know?
The wise care
on the dance floor,
this is the new Gilbert,
Mattie Mae.
Can you come down some
to our price?
The greatest feelins in the world
are all around you,
even if you get hit by a car,
and you’re not too fucked up to see them.
That’s God you see
and the Mystery behind time,
just a livin’ it up in the wood,
and bringing you in on yourself
so you see them
the Wonderful who you are.

This happens every day
in any field on earth,
but you have to find them inside to see them
as clearly as you do the world,
and that’s an inner journey par none,
over and over again.
Break the bounds inside.
Throw open the lid
that separates you from infinity,
and get yourself all straightened out,
over long, slow years,
over every minute of your life.
In all your mistakes,
you’re goin’ somewhere,
but you don’t do mistakes to get there.
You harmonize everything
into your larger see.

Now I’ve given you the keys
to begin.
Now is this a booty hunt?
It’s nothin’
that will always get you anything.
Now what the desert symbols in dreams?
That’s the touchstone
to a greater life,
that arid,
that barren,
and when the honey starts,
it’s not up all along.
You have to be tested and tried,
and there are snakes on the footpath
and liars in your head.
It’s a milkshake
of calamity
taking you to safety,
and you’ve made the monsters mad
that mess with human lives,
the monsters under your bed.
They just rule down here you know?
And the negligent divine
waits to intervene.
It’s got to be the right stuff
or a node on the story all-important.
It sucks you know?
Makes for banging your head against the wall
in your miracle ward.

Have I spelled it enough.
I can get goin’
towards that hidden sun.
Does it have to be a car,
you divine underwood,
crashin’ me into the pavement,
the divine intervention I ride,
taking out of business,
that ground me for a paycheck?
What the fuck?

The rice failed enough gas.
Did I get away with it?
It’s rainin’.
I can’t get over it,
how I’m brought before my enemies,
those that fire me
and kick me out of India
and just generally despise me,
and shown to be a beggar in the wood
marchin’ down the hill
to a hole at the end of the tunnel.
Reader, do you see that?
No, you see my inner wares.
I’d be a cap gun that fools yah.
That’s not God
pushin’ you on the floor.
It’s his chaperon,
the bodied life we are.
Kinda gets yah in the knickers, doesn’t it,
the embarrassment we are.

I’m goin’ for larger pastures,
and I’m bringin’ my dog.
Got a problem with that?
I’m not molten lava.
I am not weird and strange.
Clothes against the wind,
the key to love is change;
that’s all.
How you get around everything:
genuine and love,
back behind everything,
build a life.
You have arrived at the end of the poem.
In a sudden change,
you can only take your own car.
Go for it.
Read it,
Review of Nonconformity
And Other Stars.


That’s a foundation-spread spirituality.
You need help.
How far did you go?
Did you get all the way down to the well of soul?
Now there’s advice,
everyday counsel.
There is saving grace
in given words and visions
in the very substance of your dreams,
and great seraphim thoughts
that ride your day.
Listen to this.
It’s guidance from down under
concrete and whole.

Hey, crowd,
somethin’ tears it apart,
this speakeasy in your mind,
invader of dreams,
the ones who put circumstance together
down here on earth.
The monsters of the deep,
they talk too.
They guide you
to tear you apart,
and do you know what?
They do it all the time,
and without the discernment,
you just fall apart.
They block the soul,
imitate it,
and drown it out with their lore,
and can I come on the scene with channeling?
Most this is rotten tomatoes.
The divine doesn’t speak that way,
and divine beings are all around us,
giving guidance like the soul,
inner ships,
having a conversation
in the symbols of art.

It’s inner speech daemon
and inner vision,
a high kaleidoscope of grand advice,
a chorus of voices
rich with entertainment’s mood
and the jolly of the world.
It’s unbelievable in its scope.
It’s happenin’
in your ability to go in trance inside,
or anytime you go inside
for a bright reverie
that can come from cooking a meal,
if you’re alone,
and operating a motor vehicle,
all eyes on the road,
any mundane task
monotonous enough to go in while doin’ it.
These are development skies,
when you get down to it,
impossible really
to bless you with.
You have to do it yourself.

Now the road’s all open
for you to do it yourself.
Who does it for you?
No, not the divine
and certainly not the soul.
It doesn’t
take your will from you,
but it empowers your will
with keen advice,
the knowledge to do it right.
The most hidden part of the spiritual path,
they rely on your own will
the changes you make.
Willpower takes force
as the door,
and there’s no way around this
I’m sorry to say.

Actually,
this is what you’re goin’ through,
line your will up with God,
will this, will that,
in the loads of every day.
Come on is this impossible?
Impossibility seems,
and as many times as you fall,
there’s a stickler on your will.
Never mind the philosophy,
but you do come under a spell
when confronted with your obstacle,
your subconscious part,
and until you overcome it,
it will get you every time.
Come out from under that spell,
and you have grand guidance to do so,
if you listen,
if you get down that far,
if you’re sincere.
You’re not the messiah, hero.
You’re just you doin’ it,
a change of heart.

Have I found myself there?
This is advice from the soul
and my chosen divine,
but you don’t have to believe in them.
Every word of this is inner made,
and mastery I call on you,
here in bed with my dog,
around the house,
inner in an outer state.
Even outside the story goes,
walkin’ my dog or ridin’ my bike,
inwardly concentrated
on the outside see.
No neglect is there.
I’m not spaced out,
and that car hit me
on the sidewalk,
where I was legally bound.
It carried the liability.
It was a fault.
I didn’t fill inner guidance on the road.
I was never
spill my lines on the way to work
in that particular journey,
the day I get hit by a car.
I just got attacked
by dinjinns,
and that sucks.

It was an emergency
officer,
let me go unprotected
for the dinjinns to do it.
I have more poems to ride.
You’re hearin’ one now.
A cashier at Walmart is so outwardly tuned,
concentrated on customers all the time,
too much talking
for inner silence.
And let me spill this again:
I am inner guidance on your roof,
and you’re gettin’ the tall of it,
everything written down
to get you started,
to get you goin’,
to help you along the way,
to confirm your own found it there,
the inner path all along.
It’s a long poem,
for the serious in mind, heart,
for those who want to know.
You got a minute?

I’m a chaperon really
of your budding spirituality.
Anyway,
let’s get this show on the road.
There is will down.
You have just go to pick it up,
and it’s a fence worth,
not everything in the sky.
These are the teachings of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo
and their yoga put into practice,
written down for daily use,
in the order of appearance
in the skies of time.
What a freeway, huh?

I went overtime
to make this a complete yoga book
in first time hands,
or to give old timers a way out of their dilemma.
You must pardon my shimmerin’ moon,
the spearpoints of my stars.
The sun doesn’t talk yet it just looks,
and changes the whole field.
We are on the road to Supermind if you want to know the truth,
the divinize everything,
and we moon to get there
from the house of soul,
but it doesn’t talk to you,
the immortal Supermind,
nor do you worship it.
It rides you along
the itineraries,
and there it is in the sun
in vision.
Clouds around it some,
or is it full force?

Can you see that far?
And here we’ve begun.
Pretty dog,
sometimes you
are your dog.
How to communicate
the road to master?
Do you see the sea salt?
You’re not always made clear,
but it’s a hell of a ride
to stick your life to,
so unboring,
so very real.

Why would you just want money
to spend on things?
Why would you want to get along life without it,
the challenge of a lifetime?
Why would you want to be dumb, stupid, and mean,
when you can have the sun, moon, and stars?
Tell me now,
what is this advice within my head
that visits you in my bed?
Ah, a dream I think but oh so strange.
I give all the name of the game,
lights on yoga if you tell the truth,
and there we are.

I didn’t put any bowel movements
to get you to this beauty.
I didn’t piss all over myself,
but I sure didn’t leave anything out
that gets our goat talkin’ about.
I’m not embarrassed to say
the creeper,
the thing we can’t handle,
because it’s too impolite.
I talk you there,
where the knots are,
and that’s you untie them,
and I am a power yoga there,
if you see I’m speakin’ from truth
I’ve fortified
with my own two bare hands.
You’re gettin’ my yoga,
and I’m not at all ashamed to say
I’m well on the way.
Do you hear me boys and girls?

I am very pleased.
Let’s get started
or begin again.
Let’s get well on the way,
a sadhana you do tomorrow
that’s here in your hands today,
24/7,
all along the rollercoaster,
and you got that right,
a touch of God.
We are endeavor to learn
two birds in the hand are worth two in the bush.
It’s not all spiritual experiences.
It’s not even that you seek.
Center on the divine
in everything you do,
the divine above all else,
the divine in your living room.
You will get to the One eventually,
the Mystery behind all,
the divine in everything you do.

Road speak I’m sad.
Gotta get your compass out
and slow down.
The goal is ever the goal.
Do you know what I mean?
It’s a ways beyond
anything you’re doin’ now,
until you are Gods on earth,
literally,
in the sky and on the ground,
the change to Supermind
as it rides Earth.
Is that a thousand years from now?
Every week
brings us closer to the goal,
and you look at it that way,
as the sun rides your life
a happenin’ now.
Can you go up there to it?

In great moments you’re there
I’ll let you diagnose.
Did you get out of the universe
and be up there within it?
Did you ride the sun?
Where is that at
in manifestation Earth?
You are grounded you know
in the impossible,
and you ever ride the sky
in the ways of God,
when your manifestation is true to Earth,
and wow this poem is,
and yeah stupid me,
I get lost in corners,
but I do certainly get out.
I can sacrifice my way out of anything,
as I glide by.
I can get out of trouble,
the representative creature that I am
on a representative planet
in a symbol universe.
You see my Winnebago?

And you’re there
beyond time,
and that’s not in the wood.
Now, you see where we’re goin’?
We’ve already been there.

It’s where we come from,
and we’re bringin’ that down here,
divinize the Earth and sun,
the finite one up there in the sky.
Hercules,
and we give that man his name.
It’s a golden endeavor,
a supramental endeavor
we surrender to
all our days.

Now do you have the rulebook?
There is none.
It happens as it happens,
a different road for each one,
something beyond rules
and step by steps,
and that’s the hardest thing in the world for the human being,
likin’ the simplicity of the animal,
likin’ his way of life,
the dumb run.
We’ll get there anyway,
despite ourselves.
It is spoken.
It is inevitable.
I’ll see yah on the road,
okay?

Alright,
this poem continues with your sadhana
where here I do mine,
right there,
where we fall asleep.
Take it from me,
if you have the patience
to hear a poem all night long.
I do,
and this writin’ too.
It’ll make one offer:
passive who you sittin’
in the burden of your life.
Hear on me here,
and that’s a hell of a sadhana,
so answer divine.
There is no other way up
surrender all you keep,
and you’re on your road through time,
and you have the strength to get out,
and it’s right there
comes spiritual experience,
the flexity
to let it happen
it’s so startling down here
you know.

Good,
let’s grow up.
See that coming.
It will tear you up,
and you will get up and move on,
anything that happens,
anything that does.
Can we put the strength of this poem in your hands,
inside the river
have your coming days?
I’m afraid
you have no choice but to do it yourself,
whatever you find,
wherever we go.
Is that so alarming?
Okay we may have to learn
calamity stakes,
a much harder road than now.
Don’t
say okay life come
and show me what you got.
I’m sayin’
you’re lookin’ for the divine,
come what may,
whatever happens.
You got that road?
You got that life?

Supposed to take care of it
that negligent divine.
Alright already,
you’re in here,
in a blessing packet now.
Ah, go ahead and set up.
Well you can shut up.
Thank you reader.
See there the power you have?
The emergency ever arrives to thought,
wherever it’s mutilated.
We’re done here.
Makin’ true that’s all.
I apologize for getting so mad this morning.
I had no food,
and that food arriving,
and you turned it into some grasshopper’s umbrella
complication 3
and surgery.
They will be taking pictures if they can
at Walmart.
Look it’s mine too.
It’s nice of her,
gas keep the phone to its tours airs on the screen,
as the Spirit
ignores you,
in noise
jokes around,
at my expense.
I end it here.
That’s it.

There’s fence of good people to,
the limits of
your attention recognize.
Oh my warm God,
I give you credit out of the parking lot.
The pursuit of the unbearable,
what was lost in God
to front the Unknowable.
The action of the divine mother
put all in place,
gave name to form
and helped me to abode in peace,
but I am lost in this fathomlessness
so greatly surmise the world,
and I love my dog.
How greatly that turns the world,
the boundlessness of love.
It’s patient sitting
the works of the divine mother
and giving you a poem,
formlessly and one
honey puppy.

Denies all
a great eye of nothingness.
The great eye of nothingness
doesn’t exist.
A great eye of nothingness shut off.
The enclosure,
no thank you,
I will not man nothing,
put that on my brain,
or go anywhere with it.
Do you know how tall this is?
Outside of the enclosure
of the universe.
There we are.

Sad or bored,
now it’s the hidden sun
pulling those habitats from my eyes
into my very joy
not confined in anything.
Any new answer
to bring the world in peace,
that’s what I’m talkin’ about.
I’m not gonna force it.
I’m gonna take the bus,
come out of the top of my head,
stoppin’ tonight
right now.

Yeah we get there,
just above the head,
where the consciousness stays,
the seat of consciousness.
You’re a consciousness now
(I was lookin’ around),
inviting Supermind down.
This gets scared.
Where did I put it?
I put it
where the poem ends,
where the vehicle ends
takes you
to see these things,
and there you are.

To the next war,
to the next tree,
you gotta try to find this.
It’s the one safety
frees us from all harm.
What did you do?
I sat the captives free.
Hear about it,
it turns you on,
transcendence.
What a sun scratching child,
I just can’t get into algebra.
He’s going to get seconds,
and there’s moooore,
moooore. [sing last two lines]

Are you up the down staircase?
You see this as where we came from.
There is another bill,
and these paragraphs says personal city.
The lantern
was a collective whole.
We’ve lit up the chasm of the Abyss,
brought consciousness down there,
the great scout,
so the Real in the apparent form
brings a new Earth,
and Supermind descends
into its creation,
and we bring home here.
Put your shoes on
people,
I’ve shown you the way home.
We need to find the most names
excited by thrill seekers.
I thought I’d pass this on to everybody.
Understand my science
revolutionary?
You get me dog?

Thunderstruck,
it looks like,
I’ll do it bitterly and sweetly:
I’m actually heard.
You wanna working stiff not a
poet in the rafters,
and I just wanna be left alone
and do my stuff
in a poem.
Okay I’ll see you again soon
with another poem from the rafters.
You’ve
got it on your whistle
I don’t have to get in front of that cash register
and Walmart the world away.
I can’t write a lick of poetry
caught up in that crowd.
It’s grocery lists
and item buys,
throwin’ myself out on the public lane
when gettin’ home and tryin’ to get my silence back.

A day off I’ll do it,
but that’s work, work, work, you know?
Along with the cookin’ and what else,
constant dog care and what else,
and I do like the sunshine on a winter’s day
sittin’ and bein’ nice to myself,
unguarded moments
of ease,
readin’ and whatnot,
seein’ the football game end,
maybe a movie or two,
or doin’ nothin’ in my arm chair,
sweetin’ up the day with that,
what gives rise to poetry
I have those seraphim thoughts,
and I have the freedom to do that,
basically,
I don’t work for the Man
in those loud modes,
can’t get a concentration done
on anything of silence.

Now all these days off,
I’m in a poetry slam,
really, really intense,
and I’m gettin’ right down on the fingers of society
go for the throat of society right in its needed change,
least I run off
before you put me back to work in some menial job
poetry can’t land there.
I gotta eat you know,
help Douglas with the bills—
there’s Donny.

Can someone please help me to a poet’s worth?
Big bathroom I think.
Is that North Bergen,
Dallas or Ashburn,
Judgment Falls,
the Bible states,
all these fields on earth?
North Fort Worth,
go back there
and see me alive
and not doin’ a thing wrong,
all ye people,
all your self-satisfied lives,
all you lives lookin’ for somethin’ you ain’t got.
Could we like, uh, rock n roll?

This is just the price of oil
comin’ to that place
it heed dollar.
Here’s it’s talkin’ about
let’s get this show on the road.
I’m good at it,
givin’ yah for all it’s worth
writin’ poetry to today’s mind,
interestin’
to all these people
at the edge of the world.
You don’t read like you used to.
Now, where did poetry go?
Right here,
a new style to play a part today
you ain’t never seen before.

ChatGI,
that stupid free course,
that wrong imitation,
will it sum up the world
and put meanin’ in it,
direction and path,
all on the nodes of man
it gather out in the world from its own experience?
Will it put meaning together like this,
like a paratrooper?
Will you give credit to human language
genuinely done
by where’s poetry come from
since it came out of our mouths,
the honest to God muse of poetry,
the real thing?

Man I’m talking to you.

Present turn to your dinner.
Oh ah,
lift up your eyes and eat.
Came over and bring that Nithish
I am trying to school,
that 14-year-old
and poet.
His poet,
that 14-year-old boy,
can you bring him here to me please
from India?
Can you just send his poetry along to the world too?
Nithish’s blog top of the page.
We have Spirit together.
We can ask
do you need anything today?
You need children put rightly,
the greatest need in the world.
He’ll tell you that
in his poetry,
and when a kid sings it,
you’re likely to hear it.
I can just ask.
You’re just ready to put me in the trashcan,
but why him?
Thank you,
my boy’s blog.

Not curry for free,
we spiritual mastered together.
I am his teacher,
his grandfather
and best friend.
I raised him
a good portion of his childhood,
and he’s home with me.
I was there the night he was born
at the hospital.
You know what that means:
I didn’t find him as a sex tourist.
He’s my kid,
and that’s his whistle with me,
all along time.

We’re good together,
like a racehorse,
like a freight train.
I gave him God shoes.
That he puts them on
and becomes a think tank himself,
we do that duty,
and he is high and mighty in my life,
and I respect his every mood,
but I don’t get off on him.
He’s sacrifice.
He’s work.
We identify with each other
so naturally and sweetly
you would want him put over here with me.
Now that’s standard dress,
and we have work to do together you know,
and that’s all folks.
That’s everything.
I love that little boy.

The sun has molded itself to itself
in high glass clear.
In special light
we’re there.
Image the sea.
He has the showed the higher consciousness makes them embrace
in this paper.
Oh yeah it’s horrible
you’re too loud to read it.
Another note:
I have a glance
in that spiritual presence
I know the meaning of,
scheduled car
to enter enlightenment.
Been here.
Social it and do me a favor.
I am right now
holding your hand.
Would you be pretty enough to see that?
Right on time
let’s go outside.

The explosion and the scary,
I’m not sure it’s fathomable.
Beings of a wider, higher consciousness drew near.
There’s a you for months other than me.
I don’t like the fallout.
Go under
more long than strong.
I think I see enlightenment’s booty.
Being take a look at it
band aide all day.
I learn to abide
consciousness shears.
When the public enters your mind
those origin.
It’s profound the crowd.
Eww, catalyst
we really fit ourselves.
And why would you do that?
Dream after dream after dream
right here in your notebook.
Got to know
there
on Sunday’s farm.
There’s a dumplin’.
Origins
delivers.
What is that mode?
The diamond,
the windows
shear and pure.

Enlightenment
what’s your number?
Why not?
What does a guy lose?
Just give me a second.
I’ll do some scheduling,
and it’s done.
I’ve opened it.
Let’s have some fun.
We go public,
think like the hurricane.
When I say that now
the public mind doesn’t believe it.
The noosphere it lets you
on the rafters
visiting human thought,
and that’s a big puppy.

View our progress
someone touches me it gets out.
What have you done?
The sins the day will kill you with,
break a leg.
Oh, it’s your past.
Can we step in line
see forgiveness?
That’s done it
I know the meaning of my sins,
and I have repented from them.
I don’t do them no more,
and this takes the icing off the cake.
I’m not the only one
bonded by my sin,
and I can’t make up for you here.
You have no other way but punishment.
I’m not going to confess a dime.
I’m not going to let you have me.
I will make the journey
to make up for what I’ve done.
I will do that.

I will,
when those two,
when life and death talk roads,
when the inner consciousness itself
reaches people inside
so much healing done,
so much love.
Movin’ robotics,
there was the whole system
of this legal system.
You can’t just leave it.
That happen.
We stop prison planet.
We stop it completely
and a few other places
we punish people for their disease.

I’m a view that in person.
I heal,
and it’s all I can do.
There’s a factor,
the power of love.
We have that stuff,
and I’m a hologram for it.
Grand it put there
hey I love you.
Will do scrubbin’ my feet
here all along.
That’s the tension
hunkered down
as you read my poem.
I’m alive on you.
I’m not neglecting you.
Perfect,
let’s go home.

Let’s get movin’,
shall we?
Let’s get on with it,
the magical
life on the road
in splendid skies.
We really get out.
We really get out of prison.
You take care now.
You take care of yourself.
So long,
you have a good day.
So you note it by yourself,
put divine muse, divine lawyers.

What’s new in the swamps of Michigan and forest?
We have really decided his paper
broadcast America.
Rebelled some. [pronounced rebel’d]
I didn’t limit alcohol
to its dispensary.
I didn’t get drunk either,
but I rode alcohol
to give me some beer
to separate
some pain and some ease.
It made me feel good,
but that’s no problem.
I drove the winnebago
I’m normal waking consciousness down by the grass feed.
It’s right up here
the substance of my day.
That’s her fault,
yeah the divine mother.
She told me this mornin’
that everybody’s supposed to
of God,
but if they’re not at the beach,
feel, feel, feel,
what condition my condition was in
[two above lines sung to tune of the beginning of “Just Dropped In”],
ascended joy,
a rising ecstasy.
It is precision jewelry.

There would have to be patience
to break the rules,
not indulgin’ matter
to a ritual pattern,
but you just break loose every now and then,
ease up on the controls
and take down your hair.
Let’s get now
you don’t do that to harm anybody,
and you don’t get drunk if you’re an alcoholic
harmin’ yourself.
Normal waking consciousness,
it lifts your road,
dangnabbit.
Wait this is beauty’s skies,
and here you are.
I’ll let you promise
we’re good keepers here
the clear portal of consciousness.
Substance driven,
we lose our way.
In highs there’s a held up
they use as a camera
we don’t even know is there,
the monsters of the deep.
There’s a
platform here I know it.
Psychedelics,
you know it,
that big joker.
That settled anarchy tribe,
well they can bring spiritual experience
in sittin’ very well prepareds.
Good God hallelujah,
you can’t make rules about anything
You got my winnebago?

Blitzin’
to get this damn show on the road.
Oh my grand family,
do we just kill each other,
or have a moon?
I’m not gonna pay a lot for this muffler.
Where did that come from?
That’s a conservative.
You will spend your whole life.
I don’t get it.
Your old life is gone.
Everything’s a portal of sadhana.
Nothin’ gets left out.
The concentration goes everywhere,
every minute
puttin’ that veneer on everything,
on to it:
I am concentrating on the divine
in everything I do, think, and be,
because it’s right in front of me
whole and ready-made.
Just remember
that veneer
continually more,
a bunch of times during the day,
until the representative consciousness comes in
your mode of thinking, being.

I’ve described to you
the sadhana
that will get us out of here
and get us out of suffering,
the sadhana you do every day.
You do sadhana
in the heartwood
of everything,
and watch it change your life.
Thirty years is nothin’
you’re figurin’ results.
This changes the world.
Your change gets it there.

Oh the pancakes,
there is the Great Smokey Mountains National Park.
You can’t let your dogs there.
Unbelievable.
I’ve got a Rottweiler.
You, you can’t do it,
travel your dogs up the road
in a spiritual change.
What does that mean?
You’re learn
the rules won’t get yah there.
Some doggy might.
Toasted
let’s go home,
dogs or not.

For your feet
that do yah.
Absolutely it’s free
people.
Better,
I just found out
people are gettin’,
they’re gettin’ better.
The freedom’s come ‘ere,
it’s your choice.
Peter’s cookin’ the thought Heaven.
It’s a little too big.
The first chappal you sent,
I got promoted
on the state park,
backfishin’.
Here I am giving things.
A quarter your visitors for dogs,
got it set up.
Yeah next week I’m gonna eat.
I got so much cookin’
where infancy changes the world,
but I made it out of there alive,
and I used that to open my consciousness
far and wide.

My mom was around all the groceries in one battle.
Peanut butter,
she slipped it into her mouth
and sucked that little thing.
The consciousness that rules orgasm,
I got ruled from birth,
all my toddler years.
Oedipus hits the Sphinx, and
fuck it let’s get on with it.
It’s a ticklin’ notion
comin’ in on my playground
a devil with red eyes,
the horrendous history of abuse.
I saw it sittin’ there
all over the table,
that dog-dragon with red eyes
(imaginary playmate hell),
grinnin’ as my mom supped.
I was openin’ consciousness early on.
I bought you
transcendence.
Now do you believe me?

Up to an American geologist
an alarm went off.
To a doctor,
violently lets in the poem.
So I was messed up
on you just can’t get out of the mundane to see the Real, can you?
Unbelievable your pittance.
Can you create a star?
I wash over it,
sit and face the truth,
ch-ch-ch-ch-changes. [sing last two lines to tune of “Changes”]

When I’m giving that to Walmart’s eye I have a saying:
you’re going home. [says reader at the same time I say it]
I’m going home.
Sharing
real life on the clock looks like we found each other.
We went a special forces team.
In bounds you change
a woman,
a man,
a single body
like before.
There’s another person,
the whole.
Yeah,
you have the impossible dream.
Sorry kid,
that one,
I have it.
I have my hands on it today,
located in the heart of the night
people are moving,
in my drawers,
and the platelets of man.
I have the energy
to see myself one with the sewing machine,
and I car
to land’s end.
That close by the apple
we got knowledge on.
Did not
put down the biggest one,
the fruit of the tree of the unknown,
where we become God on earth livin’ in man,
the paradise of our inner state,
the manifestation on our outer.
I do not neglect
immortality
in a rainbow body par none
I change into again.
Houston come on,
that’s Heaven
man halleluja, amen.

Glory halleluja,
where the poem ends,
The Love of Yoga it’s called,
for apes and further humans
apin’ me in the rainbow.
Fall all over yourselves readin’ it.
I don’t know what to say.
Look, there’s God,
God on earth.

We believe the magic’s made out of Choctaw and wood.
Join it
on the open air,
and uh,
a poet
all together
mountain,
burnin’ here
background check,
ridin’ high forward,
rumblin’ with redneck,
he gets his point across.
They hear him at the Astrodome.
They hear him on Soldier’s Field,
well an American poet
at the rafters of his craft
poetry.
I mean they actually know’d he published a poem,
everybody concerned with such
and everybody that don’t.
I rub myself on the land
right there at that smellin’ spot,
hallelujah, ruff, ruff.
Beautiful, ain’t?
Amazing landfall,
the shouldering down of American life,
American landfall.

The University of the Seldom One

The Dalai Lama in Auroville, 1993, putting in the foundation stone for the construction of the Tibetan Pavilion there. In a speech afterwards, he said, “You can be a believer or an unbeliever…, but there is no choice between being a compassionate or non-compassionate person.” Photo courtesy of The Auroville Adventure
Did you know an Aurovillian won’t read this,
no matter what I do?
These are tough shares.
Talk about hang in the water
all in yoga.
My cousin slapped my mother.
It’s hard to believe
such anxiety.
Let me muscle you at,
heart poundin’ in my ears.

Let me say that again.
Oh boy, you wouldn’t believe it.
These are in heartbeats that you don’t know to measure
the light of the sun.
I wish I could come down to a heart in my living room
the Shambhala success magic.
I cannot spray this in numbers.
The heart central has to be the case.
It’s dog eat dog otherwise.

Where do I put this compartment?
In everything I do and breathe.
It can’t be left out.
You regard everyone
as potential shares.
You can’t stop evil among you
with the ball and chain.
You can’t just keep it from happening
with everybody’s suspicions.

You have to rise to the occasion
and also consider the bad man.
What does he need to do to change?
Can he do that among you?
Yeah, people
just want him gone.

There’s somethin’ I can’t get across over here.
If you wanna create Shambhala,
you have to envision his place among you
healed and changed.
Shambhala is the perfection of humanity
where Auroville is.
You have to rise above yourselves and do that.

You will not even listen to the change.
You have closed your hearts and ears
to a peaceful man among you
who is poeting this change.
How can it leave out the community,
the bedrock of the change?

You know it would speak to it
drum rose people.
It would have the imprint of the divine
sounding poetry’s worth.
Terrible is it?

I come from another land.
I do not meet the world it’s a thing out there and I’m a thing in here. /
Those lines have been drawn,
and they are wiggly now.
I meet the world inside myself.
In the substance of my vision something is wrong.
The world is not a normal train ride,
and my thoughts don’t take me there.
I see the substance of vision
it’s all acres of That,
the substance of the show.
You wanna know the gist of it?
It comes to oneness.

Now bake my bread I’m normal,
nothing special to look at,
just another person to be around.
Now test my feet I’m normal.
I get angry laugh and cry.
I can give you an argument.
My difference is my hands on you.
I’m lookin’ at the One
starin’ back at me.

This is so real to my eyes
my hands collaborate this.
I am in your field of vision,
and my that hurts,
if I even make you feel bad.
I don’t wanna do that,
and this is strong stuff
to prevent me.

Are you an alien on that?
Have you reached the divine in vision?
Do you know how to heal the sick,
and they are not sick in body they are sick in hands,
and their actions hurt the world,
rob the community?
How many times we said
we needed that,
heal the community?

This is a frog suit.
I’m lifted out of the water until I cry.
I mean I have to come up and record lines.
Do you get the picture
back and forth?
I’m hearin’ these lines in inner vision
I’ve developed over a lifetime.
You hear the sauce now
all Sri Aurobindo’d,
the Mother’s guidance please.

Here’s the thing.
It changes consciousness.
The world grabs you in this.
You see signs everywhere.
You’re walkin’ hand in hand with the divine,
but that’s not the beauty of it.
It’s soundin’ bodies
way out in front of you
the substance of their mystery
crayola figures of That,
and it dawns on you
it’s peeling you through everything,
and will you get a load of that?
The invisible ties connects us.
Wow, I’ve just shored everything.

A Different Course, the Light of Day

The Prime Minister, Shri Narendra Modi at the great Banyan Tree in Auroville on February 25, 2018. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and the Prime Minister’s Office (GODL-India)
From the paths of the Alone,
if it’s any consolation,
I alone this to you,
the next lesson cheerio.
The heart of Auroville is the banyan tree
establish the Earth
oneness drive everything.
The Infinite of days,
things are stepped back,
exploded on the scene:
I hate this bible;
I have a schoolbook to cram down your throat,
the rules and regulations;
I just wanna have fun.
The voices chorus.
Just leave my damn trees alone
and my vegetables—
I’m sustainable Auroville.
I’ve got some rocket science get yah,
a whole lot of Sri Aurobindo—
the Mother’s disciples’ Auroville.

It’s a land grab
right in the heart of the city,
and then the government comes in
and makes you disciples of her
all the way to India
that’s the tower we find.
It makes you want to pull up stakes,
the whole registry.
A failed experiment
has come apart on itself.
You can’t get there from here.
You can’t even try.
You just sit and wait
for another dawn.

Where do we go wrong?
The goodwill to continue.
It doesn’t hurt anybody.
It doesn’t seek them shame.
It’s taller than a government
and is not about right of way.
It has no agenda to sell you
at the expense of itself.
It’s charitable to everybody,
even the weak.
It has no bad man.
Goodwill lifts him out of that.
It’s good to everybody.

The fundamentals of goodwill started this place,
and all this was hijacked early on
and has led to today,
a fractured Auroville.
Policy glows in goodwill,
is meant for the right change,
and it glows on our vegetables.
People’s particulars glow in goodwill
to come right themselves.
This is not known among you?
If you see the fruit you see the tree.
Goodwill governs all,
and that’s where we land Auroville
to come back to itself.
Are you going to fight this?
Are you going to make it mean?

The heart collapsed,
the heart of Auroville.
It puts lunch in children’s boxes
and go all over India.
Get to every
place on earth,
the Auroville plane.
This trap is completely
in our noosphere,
such is the spirit of this endeavor,
the daunting human-wide of Auroville.

You’ve blocked me with anger and ill will
from the anger and ill will
in the very pocketbook of Auroville,
the poet of your gifted change,
the poet sent here to warn you.
Just come and govern
everything with ill will,
is this just your blindness or your willful
stance?
Time of death,
is that the lesson of Auroville?

This is the form of the divine.
I report that they are only satellites.
It's all fences regarding the sun.
We can’t get at that meat in the matter.
It’s too broad-minded you,
and you will not meet us there.
I cough this up now
a poem rose
in certain straits,
but I’m not in a tin can.
The availability of truth
is relative to the participant,
but I tell you sincerity guides my house.
It’s what I lean on.
I can get closer to the truth,
but will you meet me there?
Will you even try?

Oh my goodness Auroville,
that’s the study sheet,
that’s what we make our daily rounds:
ever widening to the truth,
ever widening to contain it all,
to stand at last on higher ground,
to get there,
the reason Auroville was made.
We localize human divinity here,
and that is ever the strength now.

I attempted to send this poem via email to recipients in Auroville, but my email ID was blocked. I’d sent the previous poem on this blog, “The New Business”, to all the addresses that blocked this one. This poem and the previous one made the secretary of Auroville, Jayanti Ravi, mad, and she got me kicked out of India over it, personally.

The New Business

photo courtesy of https://auroville.org/
I couldn’t come from
the city according to our needs.
A oneness organization,
that’s the start of it,
the city the Earth needs.
The walls are coming down,
it’s where we begin.
This is the largest city in Heaven,
and it’s expensive to live in.

How many people protect themselves from the Infinite?
How many people have bibles
they won’t cross thresholds with?
They can’t get out of the Book
or this Name says.
They can’t plant infinity there,
and they argue and bicker among themselves about it,
the rulebook says.

Am I just a hedonistic paradise?
I sacrifice even my thoughts to the divine
and live a simple life to prove it.
I don’t cut down banyan trees.
I sit together with everybody there,
and I know hard work,
and I know rest and play.

I love God,
and that is my first priority,
not the God of this man says,
the God of the banyan tree.
I have seen God’s eyes
staring back at me in everyone’s.
I can pet a dog and feel that,
rub a cat.

I am about the mountain in springtime.
I know how to address the world:
oh my God I love you.
I have seen fire and rain,
and I changed my life because of it.
I no longer hurt people
or cause them pain.
I draw the lines everywhere
to prevent that.
I know the meaning of sacrifice.
It’s how my thoughts meet the world.
It’s how my hands meet the day.

I am an Aurovillian comes
theoretically,
and I shout this to the Earth.
I will get bigger than my kind.
I will transform consciousness inside
into our greater type.
I will give birth to divinity
on a collective field,
and our hands will salt the Earth
with its great and needed change,
and I am here my friend
opening doors for you
that you may walk through them.
Auroville will you hear me?
Auroville can you feel that
looking?

This poem was emailed to many Auroville email addresses, most all the principle leadership bodies, and it was the object of an art action on Sept 3rd and 4th, where I and Mithun taped and tacked it up on bulletin boards and walls around Auroville and on banyan trees in the township, or it was just handed to individuals. This is the performance art a recent poem, “The Diamond”, mentioned, before, I might add, there was inkling on my part to do any.

This poem and the preceding one made the secretary of Auroville, Jayanti Ravi, mad, and she got me kicked out of India over it, personally.

The Witness

Share to Her Wonder
Yes sir those beasts are mine.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
I’m a mustache fan,
Johnny B. Goode.
Don’t put out the secret to the universe.
Move seeds,
the intersection of whoever we are.

A bird from the passing by of the ships,
cosmic order,
it’s got esoteric wings,
and you’re mesmerized.
This locks you in the sky.
It holds your hand.
It laughs with children
in the moments of their cats and dogs.
It belly rubs
and takes you on a journey to the stars,
where it’s made.

It don’t just turn you on.
We go to the transformation of society,
another name for Supermind.
You see its location on earth,
right above you,
where the heart meets the sky.
On somebody’s shoulders
this love.
He is your friend in infinity,
with a special clarity seeing
that you know he’s witnessed,
and he carries you there
in the sweet hands of children,
and let’s make it clear:
never bleed a child
or give them suffering to wear.
They change the world
into how they’ve been handled.

We have no idea
how hands on this is,
how intimate and caring,
and how it makes or breaks our world.
It’s the entranceway to spiritual change
and the transformation of our world.
It’s big stuff.

You hear it at noon.
Wait a minute,
and it will be all over the skies.
It’s the role we need to see.
We’ll be there tomorrow,
when we use the internet for great things,
examine the formation of society and not just complain about it,
make its engines reformat the world
and to better even for fishes
and a safety net for trees,
into loving homes
and spiritual change,
holding our cats and dogs dearly,
what we week today.

Do you like the sound of that?
It’s comin’ on your muffler now.
Share this piece of music
if you want the times to wear it
on the holiday of our ideas,
the special occasion we need to see them with.
Share these thoughts
to your largest room,
and that’s where we find tomorrow
if you want a better world
healing papa
and beautiful with her children momma.
Share this video
on the way to our ship.

How I believe in you,
and I’m not stupid aren’t I?
Getting results,
it’s in your hands now.
The best days are yet to come.

I’m cookie honest with yah.
We ride children to our goal.
We’ll figure it out.

So You’re Headin’ Out?

photo by the author
80’s little horror war,
what threw away?
The administration of Auroville.
It was surrendered to the government without even a care,
and we lost our autonomy that way,
at the toss of a dice,
and the government rolled in.

Are you countin’ India
to allow human unity to take over?
What was the village thinkin’
in removin’ The Sri Aurobindo Society from the scene?
Can we grasp Sri Aurobindo?
The Society doesn’t,
and it will block you to this day
if you disagree with them.
What was the Mother thinkin’
givin’ the township to this obviously irreverent crowd
to love and compassion on earth
and human unity.

Stupid me, stupid you,
we excuse her for it,
but this is the mistake that baked the day
and ruined Auroville.
Can anybody look at this?
If ever a mistake was made here was one,
and now we’re supposed to take her every word as gospel,
as if she made no mistakes?

Where has she been all these years
watchin’ it fall apart?
Is she comin’?
Yoga
relies on inner seeing,
if it’s got the content of its worth.
I’m not talking about intuition,
your intuition says this,
your intuition says that,
in a gut feeling,
no matter how you describe it
as the opening of the day.

Inner seeing’s a gut worth’s no.
It’s concrete formulas laid out in time,
spoken word, revealing vision,
or the dream maker
putting together the house for you
so you can see it.
That tells you where it’s at.
When I entered the yoga
I picked up the Mother right away
in dream and vision,
her signal loud and clear.
That was in Auroville the first time.

She was not proclaimin’ to me her gospel,
her avatarhood.
She was puttin’ sadhana together for me
it’s a sunny day.
What made it so difficult,
I just knew hell had entered my birth
and would not let me go.
What difference
she made when she came on board.
You couldn’t tell it from the outside
for so long I’m ashamed to say.
Look at that to Auroville.
Can you gauge her time?

I’ll tell yah the Indian government can’t.
Nor can it see spiritual vision
or uses it to make decisions,
spiritual vision as in seership,
not a quote you pull out to prove your point.
We are left with the Indian government in charge of Auroville,
refueling the Mother’s words with their agenda,
purposefully pulling her out of the picture
by putting her in it
the mouthpiece they wore.

You can see it happening.
You just think the Mother’s responsible for it,
but she did not ordain this,
nor the government taking over
when the Auroville Act was signed.
How do I know this?
I’m an inner seer,
and we always live on the outcasts of time.
Way out there,
we question everything
is this the divine?

I sit on your bench, okay?
I’m a hologram holocaust survivor,
and I can say my own name.
I love the Mother because she saved my life
and protected me all these years.
I know the strength of her word,
her teachings.
They have held my hand for so long,
but what she taught me you can’t find in a book,
not even hers.
Deities make mistakes,
and avatars ruin,
and in order to change ourselves we must see that
to understand what we’re up against.

The whole paradox of creation comes down upon our head
when the actual change comes about,
to keep it from coming about,
and you can hightail it and run back to Houston,
or you can bear the impossible.
A stallion of waves stampede,
and you’re just everybody,
and no wave can block your tide.
My deep thought Auroville,
can yah folla me here?

You Lift on a Stroke, There’s a Dog Shelter

A video-photo-poem, my own design, on its material level this is a promotional video for the Auroville Dog Shelter in Auroville, India. It’s the aim of this video art to take that material into the spiritual realms and beyond. To send donations to the shelter, go to this link: http://www.aurovilledogshelter.com/

The Damage We Do to Earth

photo by the author
Is by human nature human nature changed?
Let’s defeat our purpose.
Let’s go around the Mulberry pole again.
Let’s just not listen to our teachers.
I will by human nature outcast this person,
in the middle of a human unity project,
where the Integral Yoga was set down on Earth,
and I will do this willfully and strongly,
not caring for the consequences.

This is how it’s done,
if you want to protect the group from someone.
You don’t give them also divine eyes,
and you give them no public venue,
and by that I mean you keep their voice unheard,
and you ghost them forever and ever without end
in your little social bubble.
It’s high time we changed that,
in such a powerful place as ours

that holds such meaning for the Earth.
Are you with me?
I think not.

The opposite poles of human unity,
that’s the whole way to rape the system,
when we keep them apart.
I’m a whirlwind of the proper material.
Don’t you confuse me with panic.
I have my rocking chair,
my golden years.

I am the toilet that speaks
one more time.
I just want you to consider your own goodness.
Why would you castigate me?
Because God’s the author of punishment,
and God’s called you to punish me?
Sri Aurobindo gave this commandment:
thou shalt punish the wayward sadhak?
The Mother despised sin
and dealt out punishments to people?
The Integral Yoga hates sin?
The One cannot stomach me?

Let’s look at your business.
You don’t know who you are.
You are not the sadhak with the name you call.
You are not the Aurovillian you sign your name as.
You are a person beyond time.
You can’t get this right.
You think it’s some far away,
and you are supposed to act in human terms.
The Zeitgeist says it;
you carry it out.

There were times and there are places
I would not be the ass among you.
Your morality is relative to the times.
You can’t see straight
when you face a sinner
your town and country hates.
This is rock bottom being human.
You see it unleashed on the globe,
this breach of oneness.
We are killing each other over it.

Oh Islamic State was a model for our eyes.
They thought they were justified
in bringing the hell they did
to punish people,
or the Nazi and the Jew.
The scapegoat they made
was another attempt at Nature
running something into the ground
in her symbol wrought her blind actions speak.
The availability of the Jew as the scapegoat
came to show us we wear scapegoating shoes
as the modus operandi of ego-led society.

You don’t have a field for this:
where we take our scapegoats and make them human again.
You just hate
and justify your hatred
by the human mass.
You are not godly citizens.
You burn witches.

You have been given a vehicle of thought
unparalleled in the history of thought
to arouse your stomach,
to change your heart,
to detach from this human clay
the pettiness of human life,
the vile emotions we feel for one another
and see beyond the play,
and bring yourself out of this turmoil
and into the light of day.
You quote these fields all the time.
The Mother said this.
Sri Aurobindo wrote that.

The Integral Yoga can heal anything.
I have been among you 20 years showing that,
but you cannot see it.
You don’t want to.
You will not apply the lessons you’ve learned Integral Yoga.
You will just deny,
hate,
and castigate,
and as a group you do this.
What do I do to bring you to peace
over this person named Donny Duke?

I offer you my home
for a station of tea,
and you won’t even answer me,
stubbornly justified in your ill will
by human morality that has no part God.
I am the reason for Auroville’s fall,
and I graft upon it
the deception of a poet
that hides his sins with godly words,
wants to commit them among you if you but let ‘im,
deceiving the elect with holy lore.
You don’t know the price of sin.
You don’t get away with it,
even if no one finds your ruse.
Say you’re a sadhak close to God.
You have no way to hide,
and you learn to do what you’re told
to get out of your mess.

It does not take forever.
Low and behold I have sinned and healed that sin
and given the beauty of art
to give you examples of healing’s ways,
and now it’s reached astounding.
You will not sit up and take notice.
You will not even let it in your groups.
No one can read it.
No one can see it.
You hate art
the scapegoat of the day makes,
the one hated among you
by an agreement of the times.

Ladies and gentlemen,
will you castigate me for all eternity,
name my sins and how ugly they were,
without ever seeing the unexpected good that can come from woeful deeds,
without ever admitting that God has a plan
even for one such as me?
This is stubborn willfulness
out of the hour of God,
away from the lessons of truth.
Who is the greatest sinner?
I forgive you of your self-righteousness.
I understand your state.
I don’t blame you for being human,
but we can’t stay in this state.
We are called to greater life,
and we have to go together or none.
The people that refuse,
God just takes more time with them.
Are you one of those?

This poem was recently rejected by Collaboration, A Journal of the Integral Yoga, whom I have submitted numerous poems to over the years, hands down the publication I’ve submitted to most, because it is a publication of our yoga, it’s name claims inclusiveness, and it’s by fellow Americans, but they have not published a single poem. I have this theory, and I submitted this poem to prove it to myself at least, that they will never publish a poem I submit, regardless of the quality and truth of the poem. This poem explains why.

In other news, the admin of the Facebook group Friends of Auroville approved it, although the other Auroville Facebook groups I submitted it to didn’t, and it was submitted to Auroville Today and Auroville News, and Auroville Today at least replied rejecting it. Auroville News did not reply this time, and they too I’ve sent poems to over the years.

An Incident in Being’s Flow

photo by Douglas
And you don’t have the ceiling to go that far.
You definitely do—
the spiritual guides of the net.
Do they pull your hair?
They’re a breakfast club.
They paint roses
on tall ships
that sink in port.
Where do you go with them?
Well ask one,
Donny Duke.

I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down.
Are you listening to me?
The Gods talk through me.
They don’t hear me,
anybody listening.
It’s a complex Gordian knot this is all just grist for the mill,
and even if I had your attention,
would I be really worthy of your ear?
Would I shine?
Am I the right man for the job?

I put things in pigeonholes,
and I arrive at window time
to put you through a wall.
This is impossible,
explainin’ God
and join the spiritual path with life
in so many words.
I can’t tell you how to do it,
but I can try.

I sound so big on paper.
Hear me scream
when I hit my hand,
fly off the handle
when things don’t go right.
I do pick my nose.
I can’t handle everybody right.
I ride my bike and bark in traffic.
Really working on that now.
I tell you to practice God and I don’t
in Silly Putty,
or when that Tom has got my goat.
I’m a noise maker
when the text should be quiet.
I shoot guns
at my own reflection.
I’d sure like to quit
bein’ me.

Check it out,
no, I’m not
some spiritual master,
but I do go deep, you know?
I want out of this mess,
and I’ve opened my consciousness
to the point I talk to you.
I know realization occurs and I want it.
I’m not tryin’ to escape reality.
I would like to be the perfect motivation
it’s for God’s sake alone I try,
but realization has come to me
in stark moments,
and fuck God get me there.
I’ll sort it out with God later.

Took it home,
the stupid pinball livin’ I do,
and now you hear about it
I’m spiritual everybody.
Okay get away from me.
Well, even I won’t say that.
Needless to say,
I’m enlightenment’s bill
who’s bad on accountants.
A pink rose,
I put that on this little motorboat,
and let’s hope it makes it out of the harbor.

I’m not kiddin’ yah,
I’m not lookin’ for a dealership.
I just want you to hear me
because it’s there
my muse.
I’m out for business,
but don’t look to me
to be the one you adore.
I’m countin’ posters till pay time,
and that’s enlightenment,
and that’s realization.

Land more eyes,
I’ve got so many eyes
you’ve just got to see this,
Locked Press Enterprises.
It’s a rare form of shelf.
Study enlightenment,
whether you’re there or not.
It’s that special sauce, word,
that grounds you right where you’re at
in a better way of livin’.

Will Smith was gonna be an actor.
Oh my goodness,
we’re not tryin’ to broke you into goodness.
Based on love and importance
and only inspired by quotes,
quotes that I hear verbatim
and copy them down as they speak,
you’re listenin’ to the inner voice.
Am I okay now?

I cannot just leave—
thousands of these things to your neck.
Oh come on they missed the term for public defender.
Give superior consciousness,
the mind you bungalow the divine.
It’s jet ski.
You know what I mean by dick.
That gives vocabulary.
I made it through I did
the stupid likes of me.
Okay,
let me go.
It comes out of the box.

A Brazen Whistle Brawls

Photo by Douglas, celebrating my latest (62nd) birthday with him, Mithun, and Nithish
Evil our times.
It’s all our jail. [vision accompanying first two lines of one of the questions on the Together We Served Service Reflections interview I just re-posted on their site, as if this was an edit for the beginning of the answer, which one I don’t remember]
I said it right on Amazon.
He’d like to name you a place
where we could find ourselves.
It’s growin’ to war.
Delete that.
Don’t stick your fingers into your reflections.
They’re good.
They’re history,
of your own personal.
You just need them read.
Well let’s see how big men are,
how soft
on the board counts.

Life is a divine work until it’s finished.
It’s great in jars.
How much pepper spray?
We get lost here.
It’s not a divine moment
in everybody’s underwear.

And you said it:
we have to hate sex.
No, one just talkin’ while we stab each other with it,
or a hole grabs us and leaves.
You take care of man.
We beat each other with it,
but that’s not my lifelong toy.
I play with myself because of it—
some child grabbed his gun.

Now, if we’re just a folded joy,
we can get along better in the streets.
We can cash in on tomorrow.
We need to get rid of sex—
I think the mature person said this
about who they have become.
Do we get rid of it?

It’s just a football field.
We learn to outgrow it.
We put it down.
We do not condemn it.
It’s a mature decision we make.
We expect no one to follow us but us.

Well I think I’ve sowed my wild oats.
No one’s ever blocked sex from me.
I’ve had partners all my life.
I went from childhood memories
about our lust room
we had fun in
to a teenager doin’ it right.
I was a young adult party sex.
No one stopped me.
I never got punished for it.
I’m clear and easy on sex.
It’s not a hole in the ground.
It laughs in the breeze,
and it really feels good, you know?

We take it off now.
What am I, 30?
You’re not a kid anymore.
You’re at that mature age where life makes sense.
You don’t go screamin’ down the street if you cut your finger.
You’re not a nightclub in the kitchen anymore.
You’re free
from have to be with your buddies.
You’re doin’ sadhana.
It’s become the aim of life
God realization.

This is not boring, religious, clap trap.
You get long lasting ecstasies
in your body at times.
You’re inner life has opened to the Infinite.
You see visions
that represent things
that you need to grow.
The inner voice has taking you by the hand
and introduced you to life
where God leads it.

It’s an offer I gave you a wall but nobody’s comin’.
Your mind can stay silent sometimes,
and you love the world.
It bothers you less and less,
other people’s behavior.
Even your mistakes
are no cause for alarm.
Patience is painting your room,
and kindness drapes your social interaction.
You’re a strong person
that knows how to look at things.

You’re gettin’ trapped by sex now.
It’s spills you.
It does not hold your hand.
It’s a life force squeeze.
You’re tired of its pursuit.
How did we come here?
From all walks of life.
It’s an everybody does,
when they get old enough
to only pursue God.

This changes society.
Nay, this reinvents society.
We are bigger than machines.
We know how to handle ourselves even in love.
We’ve grown oceans bigger
than anything we look at.
The world is ready to evolve.
We can do this.
We can be free from sex,
if we know when the time has come to do so.
No premature ejaculation.
It has to be the right time.
It has to be real.
It has to be what we’re doin’ in life
to find God,
and you will hear it in your soul to give it up now.

You are the soul of society.
They’re uneducated,
anybody who denies this.
They don’t know what’s goin’ on.
They just want to stay kid.
How do we handle this with them?
With patience and honesty.
We don’t force them to comply.
World force does that,
as the soul force it truly is.

We’ve got such a long way to go
to reach our evolutionary path
mountaintop,
millennia,
and I’ve just given you a key ingredient
to get that done.
It’s wonderful you know?
free from sex.
You’re unhampered by life
in its sticky points.
You stand tall, proud, and free,
and you know the other half
and don’t have to mate with it anymore.

You are as much male as you are female
in the essence of yourself,
as you meet the world.
The gender of the body leads you,
but it doesn’t rule.
You’ve achieved balance in time.
This is cool.
You’re Hercules
and Diana.
You are fit do some dangerous big knife
or stay at home
and take care of the kids.
Now can I counsel you further?

Oh I’m around,
even in narrow we meet.
Come to my other business runners,
how the tackle game
plays with children,
or how dogs become human,
or how enlightenment speaks.
Join me will you,
on some other poem
battles down life
to a node.

They got a skinny little net,
the literary art house,
so you won’t find me there.
I’m on blogs and such
in my room
right here in front of humanity.
Let’s see this through:
no sex
when we get old enough to drop it.

Asses the future risk of poetry.
It will just sink.
It won’t even cut corners.
It will just sit there unread.
It’s just a bunch of words in a blender.
I don’t know what he’s talking about.
And now we’re in our teens.
It’s not innocent here.

They do it
despite we want them to stop.
It unbalances them.
Makes them crow.
It changes their minds.
It gives them a safe outlet
for their demands.
Now we’d need to stop pregnancy and disease,
not have them harm one another,
make it slightly difficult to get to
but not prevented or prohibited.
What have I said?
Teen sex.

We’d account for this
by all the kid sex they had,
where they’d learned to take turns
and be nice to one another,
before their genitals became armed.
Now I’m a roll in a hat.
End sexual hangups please.
In all this here we do that,
got it figured,
got it right.

Now you’ll blast me
with everything you can throw at me.
Now hear me out.
I’m in wisdom’s barn,
but I’m not settin’ down rules.
I’m understandin’ the animal we are
and seeing how we get beyond it.
You got it all wrong.
It’s not hide the genitals.
Let them play,
where appropriate does its measure
in the right age group,
where we are not keen on sex;
we just wanna feel down there
and have fun
with ourself or with friends.

We grow out of it you know.
You’ve seen it in this poem.
Has it terrified you?
Has it done anything at all but look at you?
Can we get over it.
Can we just make sex the plaything it was
before don’t do that got ahold of it
and put it down
when we’ve gotten bigger than ourselves?

Now test me please.
See how this works in public.
Under the right conditions
we are healthy human beings.
Some people are still reading this.
Some people have thrown it away.
Are you just afraid it’s a masturbate cushion?
If we stop right now
we’re at the end of the poem.

A risk teenager said.
Is it better to freeze?
We’re gonna try
hoppin’ a poem on Earth’s wheels.
The SF engineered
a better to see me with
well together we served.
Let’s see.

A military airlift,
hands brought me the breeze.
That’s the shot fired.
The bulwark of the law
has to undergo a transformation
in order to fit this into place.
Can you imagine the changes involved?
They’re bigger than sin.
They make us right
in our social relations
where we see attraction laid eyes
and mounted genitals and hands.
It changes us at the core
of our manipulable social relations.

We’re there
stuck at a roadblock,
women screamin’.
men peein’,
and everybody mad at one another.
Can you see that?
It’s right there in front of you
on communication.com,
on the nightly news.
It grabs the literary page
and hits up movie after movie
and theater television.
It’s a regular guest
on sope operas.
It’s everywhere we look
anywhere we got eyes
on the society of us.
it’s too tiring to see,
and we still keep it up.

Can we take it down,
when we get back to our old self
that has other gauges for life than sexual sin?
Pretty much all about Eve
is a sexual trauma notebook.
i don’t think this is smart land,
and here we go again another scandal in the news
this present poet creates.
I could’ve just stayed offline,
not bothered with dense matter,
and do my thing.
Am I stupid?
I’m not dumb.
Transparency
is the easiest way
to finish the world
a miracle on earth
enlighten us.