Between Jerusalem I’m Sorry, Chapter 12

My beloved puppy dog Lisa Joy Rottweiler, where is she? I had to educate myself. Photo by Kamesh

We Grasp the World Now

I settled down on the beach there in Tel Aviv, sleeping in the sand in my army, down, sleeping bag. Bodies littered the area around me. I made friends. They watched my backpack while I went to day labor. They didn’t work. There were two principle guys that the group revolved around, both from Holland, an 18-year-old boy called Rhino, and the de facto leader I told you about, around 22. I forgot his name. There were young teenage girls all around him all day long like groupies, and he’d usually have one he was wrapped around, she just glowing with being the chosen one at that moment. They were Israeli girls, and all went home around sundown. I don’t know what it is about 14-year-old girls, or I do, but you won’t believe me. Most were around that age. This was to be his undoing, really what destroyed the whole thing, that nice, freestyle party we had going on the beach, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

It was centered on pot, though, not girls, and Rhino was a dealer, De Factor like his front man and advisor, but he’d smoke us out for free, the little beach crowd, and we smoked almost continually. We sat in the sand under an umbrella-like structure made of stucco that would fit several people, and Rhino would always be the bong master, and he’d put one hit in the bong after another, always taking a hit too each time he gave one to someone in the circle, and on and on and on. Every once in awhile he’d let De Facto be the bong master, but no one else. I got smoked out when I went to work in the mornings, I mean, I went and stood at this street corner not too far from the beachfront where men and sometimes women would drive by and look at me to see if they wanted to hire me for the day. I got work everyday. Anyway, the first thing I’d do coming ‘home’ from work was go to that bong meeting. It wasn’t always going on, but when I came back from work, Rhino would fire it up. He knew I could use it, and he was kind. Use it? That was the most I’ve ever been addicted to a substance in my life. It was all I wanted to do, get stoned. Life was hard. It downright sucked. If you’re wondering about the other people on the beach, the civilians, De Facto said not to worry about them. We actually believed him.

Work was taxing but interesting. Where else but Israel would you get hired for the day to mix cement for a construction crew that talked about Spinoza all day long? I spent one day working for a crew ran by a couple of brothers who were really into him. He converted into Judaism but wasn’t Jewish originally—that question of Jewish identity again: what, exactly, is a Jew? I knew nothing of Spinoza, and they were quite uppity about their knowledge of him and their love of philosophy—it was really something, what it being a construction crew and all—and they looked down on me as if I were some commoner unable to understand what they were talking about. There was something about being a gentile here, with them I mean. I had to brag about my spiritual experience. I chose Silent Mind to describe. It shut them up, because they only had knowledge, not actual experience, but I didn’t get hired for the next day. You have to be careful one upping people if your survival is dependent upon being a commoner.

Finally I got the job. It lasted for a couple of weeks or more. The order of events here and time are so screwy in my mind. It could have been a month. It was a small company that installed glass windows in buildings under construction. Boy what a view of Tel Aviv. It was owned by two brothers, the older one ex-Israeli special forces (they had an uncle on the ground at Entebbe they told me), the other a young man with long hair in his late twenties who was the supervisor. They were secular Israelis. I think they kept me, and did so until I left Tel Aviv, because I was ex-special forces, even though I was a bit of a butterfingers with the glass sometimes. When they saw how much I liked going to the buffet style cafeteria for lunch, we went often. I’d usually only see the older brother at lunch, but when I did we’d usually talk about SF. It’s a brotherhood that transcends nation states.

I told him about the Israeli captain that I went to the Special Qualifications Course with (6-82 WETSU! (We eat this shit up)). He was really impressive, he and the Canadian officer. They were both well-liked by the class, as they were good at everything we did, didn’t get in the way like other foreign officers did, like for instance the Saudi Arabian officer, who always lagged behind, but he pulled a rabbit out of the hat and helped me and two others pass the land navigation course, which 60% of the class failed and hence failed the Q Course. It was a mother. I must ask for a moment of silence and say that the Liberian officer was killed on a parachute drop. He was the nephew of the president. Heads rolled over that one. It was a jumpmaster mistake. False DZ. The man landed in a big, deep pond, and drowned, tangled in his shroud lines. Fellow classmates pulled him out of the water as fast as they could. SF candidate medics worked on him for over an hour, one of them my good friend, who told me the story. It was a no go. He was gone. I washed clothes with him right before it happened, and he was an officer and a gentleman.

Camp Mackall, North Carolina, 1982, dark thirty. I had to find at least one stake in a swampy to dry land forest to pass the land nav test. Our maps, like I said, were out of date, and the stake was not where the map said it was, or rather, it was, but the land had changed, and I couldn’t find it. We had to find four in the daytime and four at night, or at least five in total. The four daytime ones where a piece of cake. Night time, however, was a different story. I encountered two other SF candidates trying to find the same stake. They couldn’t either. One I had been avoiding the whole course because he’d been a Ranger Indoctrination Program (R.I.P.) assistant instructor that had beat me upside the head as I dropped out of a full equipment rucksack run right before I quit that program. Rangers are not SF. They are not unconventional. That’s all I’ll say about that. That was after I first enlisted in the army, three years before this present incident, and that quitting still haunts me in dream. The commandant of the program tried to tell me I’d regret it, but I didn’t listen. Does anybody ever?

Now, a sergeant myself, although only an E-5, I really didn’t want this guy to embarrass me in front of myself, and so I tried to avoid him as much as possible. Here I had to face him. He was honorable and said nothing about our previous encounter in the Rangers. We got in a line like doing a police call (picking up cigarette butts) but still couldn’t find the damn thing. Time was running out. Finally we sat down, frustrated. Then we heard the unmistakable sound of someone opening a C ration can with a P-38. I got up and went to the sound, and I was at the wall of a draw, which is a thin stream running through the land, invisible because on both sides was tall, impenetrable vegetation. They were the bane of the SF candidate at Camp Mackall. The others motioned me to go through the draw, which I had to do on my belly the brambles were so thick. Low and behold, sitting right next to the unfindable stake was the Saudi Arabian officer eating a can of peanut butter. I went back through the draw and gave the good news. Soon, all three of us were there punching on our ticket to prove we’d found the stake. It was in the middle of a small, triangular island of land made by three draws, each in a different position than the map showed, and it showed no island between draws, why we couldn’t find it. How the foreign officer did I will never know, as he trained mostly in the desert, or so we figured, but, needless to say, we respected him after that.

Back in Tel Aviv I was smoking pot, a world and 13 years away from Camp Mackall. It happened one day, on a weekend I think, that I was given the honor of being the bong master. It was delicious! I had as much to smoke as I could smoke, finally, and I just inhaled it. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was hit with that undeniable urge I’ve described in the Jewish Messiah at King’s Cafeteria story. The urge was to get up and run away from there as fast as I could because the cops were coming. I couldn’t believe myself, and it was as though I were watching myself from outside as I thrust the bong to Rhino, mumbling something about having to go, and go I went and fast. I got maybe 20 meters away, walking along the top of the beach where the promenade started, and I told myself this was crazy, and that I should go back there and smoke. I turned around and stopped dead in my tracks. The cops were there busting everybody. I turned around again and walked away, quite quickly, safe and out of sight, thanking my lucky stars.

They took only Rhino, but took everyone’s else’s information, that they would use later. De Facto went into action, or thought he did. That night I saw him on the phone with Rhino’s parents, on the promenade up from the beach. He’d assured them all would be well he told me. Rhino’s parents had just visited him there in Israel, and we were still munching out on all the Dutch chocolate they left him. It was sad, and I really felt for those parents and their child. I was cautious about going back to the beach after the bust, of course, only went back to the promenade, but De Facto wasn’t cautious, for some stupid reason I couldn’t figure out. I’d taken three friends of mine and went to a squat another friend had found for me in Jaffa. It was just in time too because the cops raided the tourist backpackers scene near the beachfront that very next day, going into the main bar everyone hung out in and really busting heads, beating the shit out people, and they raided the main hostel too, or a couple of them, to just clean the area of all that riffraff, as they saw us anyway. De Facto got hauled in too. I had warned him in that conversation at the public phone stand, but he told me that, before he’d left the beach and made that phone call, he’d told an undercover officer on the beach that the man was one, explaining to me it’s the law they have to tell you if they are, and the man told him, “You’ll go far”. He seemed to feel that was some kind of proclamation that he would not be busted, or something like that. He got seven years in prison, Rhino five. The issue of the young girls was the main issue at trial I heard, not so much the grass, but I wasn’t there. A few of the girls were at the trial, someone who was there told me, they loyal to the end.

The friend that found me that squat in Jaffa was not happy I invited three more friends to join us, and he made himself scarce. He said it was just for me, a safe place he’d given me and me alone, although he’d come and stay there too he said. The relationship had become complicated. He was in love with me. I really don’t know where to fit it on the timeline, our friendship, but we went to Safed together for a day and a night, and camping in a gorgeous gorge that had a lush forest at bottom and a rushing river. We went there with the three other friends I’ve mentioned. They are spoken of more in the collection of stories about the hunger strike and poetry postings called The Journey of a Thousand Tongues. He didn’t like them and they didn’t like him. I really like him though, and that got misinterpreted.

He was a young German man named Hans there in Israel to explore the Holocaust, why his people did that, and I’m putting into compressed terms the reason he told me he was there. He was very German in appearance and in accent, and I’d offend people by trying to describe the German physique, even by saying there is one. Let’s just say he was tall, muscular and naturally so, in a gangly sort of way, and he had blond hair and blue eyes. He was a bit scary looking, like he could break you in half if he wanted to, but he was the opposite of mean, a very gentle man actually, baffled by people’s reaction to him, or their first, unconscious reaction, before they got to know him, if they did. He was having a hard time in Israel being German. He encountered a lot of hate. He came wanting to work in a kibbutz, but was rudely refused on account of being German. What a chance at healing, what was really being refused. Now he was just roaming around, vagabonding like I was. I don’t remember how we meet, but we became fast friends for a while, until the romantic/sexual thing cropped up fast and hard. He bought some herbal ecstasy, a bundle of tablets and such packaged neatly, one for me and one for himself, wanting to go to the squat and do it together, before the bust and all, and I’m not only talking about do the ecstasy. He was so disappointed at my no that it ended our friendship. He was not, however, caught up in that bust. He was very proficient at being on his toes and could handle difficult situations. He just couldn’t handle unrequited love. Are you there Hans? I’m sorry.

Where exactly it goes in the timeline I don’t rightly know, somewhere before the bust though, because De Facto got some heroin for B Actor and a couple of others from the studio crowd in Safed. Sounds awful, but hear the story. They were as surprised to see me as I to see them. They just showed up one day at the beach, looking for heroin. They didn’t know I was there, but when the saw me, and saw I was ‘on the beach’, they asked me to help them get some. B Actor and another young man were looking for the smack for a young man with them. They came all the way from Safed, the boy in tow, to find some for him. He was about 22 or so, and he’d lost his mother some months before, and the grief was a noose around his neck still. He’d been a heroin addict before coming to Israel, and he’d come to free himself from it, but he’d convinced his friends, B Actor and another young man, that if he could just get one hit of heroin, that would really help.

They knew nothing of heroin addicts, obviously. My big sister Gwen had been a heroin addict, for a long while, and I knew from experience they were making a big mistake believing him, as that one hit would just put him right back into the addiction, but I don’t remember if I tried to tell them that or not. I do remember B Actor explaining to me that, according to the Torah, any kind of plant use was okay, or some such, meaning, as he saw interpreted that, it wasn’t against the Law to buy the heroin nor for his friend to take it. Incidentally, some of the ultra-orthodox grew some potent skunk I heard more than once while in Israel. I never smoked any, and so I can’t confirm the story. Anyway, I asked De Facto to find some for them, and he did, and they bought it from him and thanked me. It all happened in the space of an hour. In parting, B Actor said something like, “Oh, I see these people love you, and so you’re okay.” “What?” I thought, “How incredibly insincere.”

I left Tel Aviv with 700 shekels, headed to Eilat down south on the Red Sea to work, as people were saying that was where the money was. I traveled with those three friends, and not one of them had a red cent, and so I paid for all our expenses, which were not too high, as we were hitching mostly and cooking on my miraculous, burn common alcohol, one burner stove, but still, it took all my money to get us there. I also did all the cooking. There was a young Englishman whose name I can’t remember, a young man from the Netherlands, Alison I think his name was, who features in the story from Tongues “The Guests of Unseen Egypt”, and there was Jack, a young man from South Africa that did not like Jews, and maybe didn’t t even like himself, but he was my friend. Goddamn did he cuss. Here’s some advice: never pay for everything in a group without writing it all down to show the group after, or they’re likely to deny you paid for most anything.

The Eilat thing didn’t work. Oh I did get work, but it was terrible there, just awful, and so I took what I made and went back to Jerusalem, leaving the Dharma Bums behind, what I called, and subsequently they called, our little group, especially after me telling them about the book by Jack Kerouac on the way, and then finding a copy of it under my bed of the hostel we booked into, Home Hostel, upon our arrival in Eilat, like right after checking in and going upstairs to our bunks. There were no other books under that bed or any other, nor a bookshelf in the room, not even a stack of books. It was a miracle, and I know you don’t believe me, but when we found that book, well, we actually became the Dharma Bums.

Landing at the bus station in Jerusalem and wandering around the new city was the lowest point of my Israeli adventure, a low point that would score high in low points in my life, meaning I was pretty dejected and down and out. I forgot every synchronicity, every magic event, every miracle, and I just wanted to cry. We are so that way. I had worked my butt off but only made a few shekels, which the bus ride from Eilat had taken. I began to sing the song “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” but changed the lyrics to say, “I am weary, feeling small, and tears are in my eyes. Will you dry them all, be on my side? Oh times are rough, and friends just can’t be found…” I didn’t just sing out loud to the street. I sang from the depths of my bleeding heart to the love of the universe. It’s said we are hardwired to respond to a baby’s cry. I suspect angels and the like are likewise hardwired when it comes to our cries, if they hit that spell-bottom note, and mine had.

When I finished singing I looked around. I saw a new age spiritual bookshop nearby, and so I went in. In the lobby was a bulletin board. On it was a small flyer about a weekly meeting for world peace but no address, only a phone number. I got permission to use the phone in the shop, and I called the number, and a lady answered, who was very cautious. I rattled on about the hunger strike and the poem postings in the Old City of Jerusalem and how I wanted to continue to Mt. Sinai and maybe even to the Great Pyramid in Egypt. It was all for world peace, I explained, both inner and outer. Reluctantly she gave me the number of someone else, who, after I said the same to him, gave me the address and how to get there and when to come. I was to take bus number 8 from the city to a suburb of Jerusalem. I was to meet Issac, the very next day, whom you will be pleased to also meet. He was to set my feet more than just on the path to Egypt. He also introduced me to the Mother, via a book, and he was into books.

I met him in his small yard outside his apartment. As I had walked up the path to his place, I saw a man in a wheelchair, and he had a pencil in his mouth and was reading a book and turning the pages with that pencil. I was surprised, not expecting this. He was paralyzed from the neck down. I will never know exactly how to look at someone with a noticeable disability for the first time and not feel that awkward, “Am I doing this right?” He was reading The Urantia Book. He greeted me kindly and a bit on guard, not knowing what to expect from me either. Meeting for the first time a man with hair past his shoulders and a long beard, who dressed in colorful, baggy clothes, and a lot of purple, there’s some doubt as to whether or not he’s a bit of a loon. We exchanged the normal how do you do routine. I told some of the story of the peace work I was doing with poetry. I don’t remember if I gave him any of my poetry to read. I’d had many photocopies of the poems made on paper of different colors, and so it’s likely I did. Neither do I don’t remember where my gear was or where I was sleeping.

He asked me to do energy work on him. I had not done that before, hadn’t been to India yet and hadn’t learned about pranic healing. I did know about Reiki, but I didn’t know a thing about it except you use your hands as vehicles of energy so to heal people. I tried to tell him I didn’t know how to do it, but he insisted. As I put my hands on his legs he told me how powerful I was, and I was secretly pleased, as someone had seen my power. He gave me a hundred shekels for the Reiki. When I went there again another man was doing doing Reiki on him, and I heard Issac tell him he could feel his power too, and he also gave the man a hundred shekels. Embarrassed at myself to myself, I realized Issac was just a really good guy, liked validating and helping people, and the Reiki was his way of giving money and also giving someone the dignity of having earned it.

When I left that first time, he loaded me down with three or four photocopies of popular New Age books, one by someone claiming to channel angels from the Pleiaides and another author aliens from Sirius. There was also some Robert Anton Wilson. I had read his Cosmic Trigger and The Illuminatus! Trilogy. That was before Silent Mind. After experiencing that, a book like that didn’t interest me. It doesn’t go there. We are sectors, sectors in the pond. You’ve heard it reveal itself, just throw away material. Don’t tell Issac, but all those photocopied New Age books went into the trash.

I was to get to know Issac, and we were to become friends, even writing letters to one another after I left Israel. He broke his neck diving into shallow water when he was 16. He came to Israel and made Aliya as a young man. He was in his thirties now. He was orthodox at first but took off the Black clothes and eventually embraced the New Age. His parents were quite rich, and they supported him and provided round the clock nurses to care for him. I was to become friends with them too, but they were weary of me at first, like I was going to be a mooch or leech or something. They protected him from his generosity. He was profoundly disturbed about being paralyzed. I’d never been that close to someone completely paralyzed, and in time I’d be right there as he was fed and taken care of, and it was painful to see and also humbling. Issac told me that sometimes he jus lost it and broke down into screaming tears on account of being almost completely paralyzed. The woman that answered the phone number on the flyer at the spiritual bookshop was his girlfriend. She loved him dearly and also protected him from his generosity, why she told me she was guarded in that initial phone call. He told me that, when he broke down like that, she would just hold and soothe him. In my mind’s eye I could picture her doing that, as, in getting to know them and hanging out there, I’d see her wrap herself around him in his big chair, trying for all she could to keep him safe from pain, as much as her female power can.

That other man doing Reiki that first time I visited was named Jeff and was from New York and into being a healer. He talked about Christ consciousness a lot. Neither Jeff nor Issac seemed to mind I wasn’t Jewish. Jeff was in his late thirties. He lived with his girlfriend, who gave him a limit on how long he lived with her, as Jeff did energy work and no other kind of work. It didn’t pay well. Jeff was, like Issac, somewhat developed, and by that I mean they did not have big reactions to things that other people did, not usually, and they were kind to everyone and had genuine concern for other people. They were warm human beings.

Jeff took me to a place he said I could camp, which he said had strong Christ energy. It was the forest behind Yad Vashem, the holocaust remembrance center of Israel. It was also slightly above Ein Karem, the village where it’s written that Mary went when she was pregnant with Jesus to live with her cousin Elizabeth, who was pregnant with John the Baptist. The book of Luke says she went there hurried but doesn’t say exactly why she went. She went there to be safe from stoning, but the Gospels don’t say that. Instead, they make up a cover story to hide the fact Jesus was born from a teenage girl, who got into trouble, getting pregnant before marriage. I’d imagine it was the same with her cousin Elizabeth, the two girls put together, for how ever long, to help protect them from society. I camped in that forest for about three weeks, preparing for my trip to the Sinai and to Cairo to post my poems. I camped in the ruins of a family healing center, its actual name I’ve forgotten, but it seems to me it was for families coming to Israel from war-torn Europe and from the Holocaust. There were no buildings left, just the ruins of a fence with the sign identifying the place. It was on the side of hill, right near the top, and it was a clear area, a good place to camp. I had no tent in those days. SF had taught me to sleep anywhere and to be alone in the forest, or wherever, and not be afraid. Every time, though, I slept out alone again, and it’d been awhile since I’d done that, it’d take a couple of days for the fear to leave, but I wouldn’t be too scared to go to sleep. One night on that hillside, I was awakened by the loud yapping of some kind of canine-type creature, but I had no idea what kind. I don’t think they were dogs. Half asleep my first thought was that it was ultra-orthodox Jews, and that might’ve come from the dream I was just having, but I don’t remember it and so really can’t say. I was completely surrounded by them, as I could hear the yapping coming from all directions, directed at me, but I didn’t come out of my bag to try and see them. So sleepy, I just went back to sleep.

The reasons I thought it might be ultra-orthodox Jews had to do with, yes, still being in sleep mind and not yet fully in waking mind, but maybe they were in the mix because twice when I was sleeping out in Israel I awoke to an ultra-orthodox youth leaning down over me and looking at me. The first time was in the cemetery on the mountainside in Safed, not far from the mikvah, and I just woke up to him staring down at me, saw he meant me no harm, and I went back to sleep. I just figured his elders had sent him to see who was sleeping in their cemetery. The second time I was sleeping in a pile of people on a hillside of Meron during Lag BaOmer, the mother of the boy I had a crush on, Zeke, and maybe Ger, but it could’ve been Hen-ya. I don’t remember. The kids were not there. It was a real Croods evening. I woke up and an unbearded, ultra-orthodox youth was peering intently down at me, again, but a different youth this time. I looked up at him a moment, showing myself to him with my eyes. Then I closed them and went back to sleep.

Lag BaOmer bears a moment in this book. It was there I saw the tribes of Israel. I mean saw Jews in tribes and as tribal. Just about everybody I knew in Safed walked over the hills to Meron for Lag BaOmer, in their own little groups. I walked (and slept) with the original crowd I hung out with, whom I named above, but I had dinner with the art studio crown. We ate on a forested hillside, and it so reminded me of SF. Mosheheim had prepared dinner, one of the spiciest meals I’ve ever eaten, hotter than fire. Everybody praised him for his cooking. I don’t think everyone was sincere. I had done that chameleon thing again that I did a lot traveling, which is to put on the dress of the culture I was in, take on its look, but not exactly, and not exactly purposefully, more like the artist of the Art Cafe of last chapter, who’d take suggestive shapes appearing on his canvas and bring out the suggestion. I was dressed with my very long hair down, but combed in such a way it appeared I had long, curled payos, and I had on black clothes, a t-shirt and slacks of some sort, but black nonetheless. I wore that white kippah I’d found in the cemetery. I think I was still considering converting at that moment. Over the course of the evening, a couple of groups of young orthodox, laughing, called me over to have me in a photograph with them, and I obliged, knowing they just wanted a picture with the clown. Someone from the studio crowd told me they were making fun of me, but I was thoroughly enjoying myself and didn’t mind. It was a lovely evening, so much excitement in the air, no bonfire of the vanities.

So you can see why I thought I was surrounded by ultra-orthodox yapping at me. Anyway, I spent my days in Ein Karem visiting the churches or just walking around, finding nice places to sit awhile, and I went to Yad Vishem two or three times. I saw some art there that bore the unmistakable mark of being created by someone who’d suffered something of hell. There are universal forms that remind you of the Void, even if you don’t know the Void is there, remind you of terror at its most real, and I saw some of those forms there too. I felt so much pain in places there. But I looked and looked for some indication that… I’m sorry, I don’t know how to say this. It will take some telling.

After the inner journey to the well of soul I related earlier in this book, I began having dreams of being Jewish, and I continue to have them. Some three or four years ago, I had a definitive dream that showed me my last life was as a Jewish man in Nazi Germany, as I’d had a definitive dream of being a Black guitar player in the American South around the turn of the 19th century. The memories of the Jewish life had been activated by the contact with my soul essence, and memories of past lives are stored near the soul. I was in hiding in the country in or near Germany, and I was very poor, came from a poor family. I wasn’t killed in a concentration camp, at least not that I can recall, but the threat of being discovered loomed over me heavily.

The soul math, derived by the Mother and Sri Aurobindo, does not add up; there’s not much time between the death of the Black man and the birth of the German Jew, and they say that the more developed a soul is, the longer it spends in the afterlife. Although I cannot quote any authority other than my own knowledge and experience, I have good reason to believe my soul came to maturity, adulthood as it were, at the end of the Black man’s life, making it free to manifest in the world, take births, at its choosing. You can look at this life, its inner and world experience and see something out of the ordinary is going on with my soul. This is what it looks like when a soul has grown into the adulthood of the soul, this type of participation between the world and the individual, the individual and God, but I must make a distinction between my soul and my ego self. My soul chose in this life me, meaning the outer personality Donny, someone born under the influence of a hostile being, a demon, and all the weirdness and bad that entails. This is for the purposes you see played out in this book and in my other works. My muse says enough about those purposes at the end of this chapter, has been talking about them in much of the poetry of this book, so I don’t need to go into that here.

But back to that German Jew. The dream of being him was representational, not like the dream of being the Black man, in which I actually lived the last hour or so of his life inside his body, hearing his thoughts, feeling his feelings, and mine at the same time, like when I was in my grandfather’s body as he died. Here, I was both the character in the dream and an observer of him, alternating between the two, normal dream stuff.  In the first part of the dream I was on a passenger train before the war and the pogrom against Jews. The train was later to become the cattle cars to a concentration camp. Now, though, it was where rich Jews really living it up. There was a car that was full of luxury items, really decadent, the most expensive cigars, liquors, liqueurs, all sorts of vice-like things, the best of the best. They were all hanging on the walls as if on display. I went inside, allowed because I was Jewish, and no non-Jew could be in there, but I knew I wasn’t welcome there and would be told to leave if a rich Jew saw me in there. Then the items suddenly all turned into kinky women’s lingerie, and I got out of there, and the dream shifted to during the war, the train something I was afraid of, looking at a it from a place of hiding up in a forest. The train tracks became the focus of the dream, the fear I’d be soon on a train to a concentration camp. I lived with a small group of other Jews in hiding, a farmer hiding us. At one point I was walking down a trail with my wife, the tracks looming large at us down below in the valley. I realized she was Sunshine, a very young woman I had a strong connection to in Garberville but couldn’t figure out why. That knowledge was just part of the dream.

At the end of the dream I was on this strange, huge, contraption beside the tracks that resembled some sort of ride at an amusement park, and it had you go in a spiral on a rope up it, and many people were on it, but not many made it to the top. I did, and when I did I had an experience of Silent Mind. It bears mentioning that in the dream I was utterly dejected, so scared I’d get caught. I hit some kind of fundamental low that triggered a momentary experience of enlightenment. You got to figure that I wasn’t the only Jew, or Gypsy, or gay, or whomever, that did. It’s not only spiritual practice that brings enlightenment. Sometimes the worst thing in the world can bring it, and you got to figure that some, maybe a handful at most, marched into death triumphant.

I could interpret that first part of the dream in terms of the behavior of some rich Jews, not all, during the Weimar Republic, when the majority of the population had to go without a lot.  Even if it were only a small but visible number of rich Jews, and I’m sure it wasn’t only Jews but other rich people too, non-Jewish Germans would, in the manner the masses see, distortedly, build up resentment to Jews in general, and Hitler and the Nazis took that and ran with it. Notice I was Jewish but not really allowed in that railroad car, which represented the decadence of rich Jews before the Nazis, not all Jews like I said, during a time when most other people in Germany suffered want. If you see what I see, it’s not Jews who were responsible for any blindness to and disregard of the suffering of the German people; it’s more the rich. It’s always has been like that, not only in Germany but everywhere, even in communist and socialist countries (the leaders got the good stuff). The rich rule the world, are the true masters of the race, de facto though they be, the ‘good’ rich notwithstanding. Here’s the ticket: we get the rich out of political office and make it much more difficult for capitalism to produce the super-rich. On the table, on the shelf, we have the equipment to change the world.

What I was looking for at Yad Vashem, although I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, was an exhibit of the luxury stuff in that railroad car, with all the names of the Jewish rich people that owned them and their positions in German society attached to the items. You can put their donations to charities there too, their social work, to try and correct what needs corrected in that distorted how the masses saw. I think you get the picture. It means looking at the whole picture and not just at the fact of being victims. Do you like genocide? It will keep coming again and again as long as we don’t look at the whole picture and correct ourselves accordingly.

What do we do, though, with Jewish exclusivity? We cannot deny it exists. Does it lead to Jewish nepotism and Jewish privilege? In some cases of course it does. They’re human. Now let’s go through Hollywood and the news media (have I missed one?) and get their percentage down in those places to somewhere around the 2.4% of the population a net search will say they are, speaking of America. We can also, while we’re at it, make sure there are no areas of New York City where a red blooded American who is not Jewish cannot feel at home, and make sure there is no invisible zoning in Jewish neighborhoods in New Jersey to make sure non-Jews can’t rent or buy homes in them. I’m sure I’ve missed something, but you see the list. It’s ridiculous, and I’m being sarcastic. In the persecution and hatred of the Jews, the reasons thereof, we are missing something, something big that has to do with the abilities to interpret existence it itself and to handle intricately and fastly the outer world. And I’d need to simply spell this out: there is no cabal of Jews controlling the world, but I can tell you where that insipid, unhinged belief comes from. You would not have thought of it in a million years, and you will be so surprised you’ve missed it, and if you don’t believe it, that will be because you don’t want to, not because it’s not true. All the way to meaningful, that’s the position Jews have when they enter society. I don’t think you’d enter that with every Jew, but you have my meaning. And now we look at odd first.

The lights go out.
Strange noises are in the air.
What time is it?
The world transitions into stargate.
We’ll put our hand on the greater,
and we’ll just follow bloody apes will yah?
Joy by surprise
sculptured this to us.
I’m looking at the origins of man, are you?

I can do nothing else than jump into it with both feet. Imagine how we developed human self-awareness distinct from the other animal species. Whether you believe or not in an evolution of consciousness or of identity, what evolution is in its essence, you have to admit something happened to our minds that separated us from the other animals, or somewhere about us. Was that all in one go, or was it in stages, to get to the human identity we have today, ego identity is it? And there’s even a reluctance in science today to admit we actually have one and call it that. First, I’d call it outward tuned (wake-centric) ego individual identity, with an almost exclusive focus on the outer world for the business of human endeavor, and an emphasis on the individual. I’d imagine at first it was the opposite, with the central focus on the inner life and on the group, speaking of immediately after the initial leap or separation point from other species, the  subsequent stages taking us out more out into the outer world with the pinpoint of our awareness and towards being more distinct individuals within the group, however many back peddles there were too, as there always are, not to mention sidelines here and there and offshoots going nowhere.

I’ve suggested earlier in this book that infant orgasm, that administered by a mother, not just giving orgasm but the focused attention too of a love affair, perhaps in conjunction with some substance like ganja or a stronger psychedelic I’ll add now, brought us into human self-awareness, the first stage of it, or rather, brought a baby into it, maybe several during the same time period, but the number is only significant to the time it took this to spread to other members of the animal species that made the jump to man, an animal species that was on the brink because it had started to walk upright, the true king of beasts, us right before we became us. That spread would still happen if the number were one, especially if there were the hostile beings I’ve described, demons we call them, but here the type that construe worlds, making it happen in the first place and making sure it spread from mother to mother, to the fathers too, so the babies more and more would be ‘human self-aware”. If you doubt the power of infant orgasm under the right conditions view my process. It mirrors, minus the substance, how we became man. Here, have an apple Eve. Representative is that story.

The power was out.
I quit school.
Some mail to you:
individualism.
I was stand up.
I was really
excited
to exercise me
outside.
Now you see evolution.
Your turn.

That is all well and good, er, well, not good, but good has come of it, and it’s not my place here to explain our place in the cosmic order, having our evolution on this Earth. I’m interested here in how we got here, to this present stage of human ego identity focused on the outer world and on being an individual within a group. I’ve explained, briefly, that a house in Overmind, a divine Heaven, intervened in human evolution, which had already gone through more than one stage of identity, as I’ve suggested, how many stages it would be hard to gauge, but our milestones such as the development of stone tools, burial, representative art, agriculture, the making of alloyed tools, and writing, would perhaps indicate moving to another stage. The stage that we are in now basically began Western civilization, what has been the dominant civilization in world process (however much that is in decline and being replaced by more Eastern), which itself began when a divine house intervened in human evolution and created the Jewish people, who became a leaven among the peoples for the new stage, our modern one, again, as far as Western civilization is concerned, and I’m taking huge, complicated, and interconnected movements, compressing them and putting them in an ordered process and in neat rolls, but of course that is only for the sake of discussion.

Putting Eastern civilization into the process, you’d put it developing that stage slower than the West, very generally speaking, or you can say that it’s not been leavened by the more recent stage to the degree the West has been, and may not ever be or even want to be, as is evident in the major differences between the East and West, which have a lot to do with the degree of outer focus and the degree of individualism. Looking at the process of the introduction of a new stage into humanity in terms of a leavening, one that takes its time to reach every people on the planet, if it ever does, it would be evidence of such a process that, in both the East and the West, you can find peoples today that still have at least one foot in the former stage, if not both in the case of ‘uncontacted’ tribes, focused on the inner life and the more ‘primitive’ hands on the world and in Nature, meaning more on her level and on her terms, that would entail and all the magical interaction with the outer world such a focus encompasses. Whether that magic is real or imagined is not part of this discussion, but, from my story, you can see it’s not all imagined.

Incidentally, the world culture being created largely by the advent of the Internet, the one the youth of the world seem to be embracing, and with a passion, is basically that Western hands on the world and on one’s individuality. Now you can understand the conflict more traditional societies have with it.

The first thing that particular Heaven did, I don’t know, somewhere from eight to four thousand years ago, give or take a thousand years, was to introduce customs, rites, rituals, practices, laws and the like that cleaned up man’s act so to speak, not only on the outer level in terms of vice and cleanliness, but on the inner level to protect people from the Hostile Powers and those people who used them or were used by them to gain power over other people. It’s really, really strong custom. Most especially, that divine house helped close the door to infant orgasm (and the Pandora’s box that opened) and sexual child abuse, with practices such as circumcision and a more general respect given to a person’s personhood, starting from birth, as sexual child abuse would have been not only universal in early humanity but normal.

That the door to sexual child abuse hasn’t been closed in the Jewish people, or any people on earth, attests to the fact it will take more than law and punishment to stop it, and while we’re on the subject to stop murder, rape, theft or any type of wrongdoing as well, punishment and law being the main means that divine house dealt with earlier man and still deals with us today, why it’s time to change. By those means it aimed to create a holy people, and it did that in large part by separating Jews from the mass of humanity, a mass much different than the one of today, who are, the incompletely or unleavened parts notwithstanding, in the same stage of human identity that Jews are, which would mean the separation isn’t now the thing. Do you see why?

To get some picture of why a definite separation from the common mass of man was necessary, in almost all walks of life, you might imagine a humanity for the most part compromised by its inner life it was so open to it, open more to the Hostile Powers than the Divine Powers in the mass. Violence would’ve been the order of the day, in all its forms. Everyone would basically be a mess, even kings and queens. From the creation of peoples like the Indian and Chinese, as well as other peoples, where a spiritual elite was created, which later degenerated into a religious elite, and I stomp my foot here because that will be on the test, the test being the temptation to return to a society built on that latter elite, the former having been virtually smothered by that latter, it’s evident that other divine houses were intervening in humanity to help besides the one that created the Jewish people and it’s more hands on the outer world individualist identity, but it was that more solid in the outer life and in the individual self that was to take the lead, at least to our present day. It could grasp the physical world by the horns.

Now we can talk about Jewish exceptionalism. It would stand to reason that that their terms of man, what fashions the human ego in each child born, would be more primed to success in the outer world and as individuals, and please understand I haven’t dismissed the group by any means. In Jewish culture it’s maintained something of a tribal nature and hence is what the individuals look up to as in what’s larger than themselves and what they rely on, that pillar of their reliance really God notwithstanding. I’m sorry it’s impossible to talk about every individual in a group at the same time. So many differences and exceptions would be present. It’s this very strong, sometimes exclusive, identification with the Jewish people on the part of individual Jews, over and above the identification with any other grouping in humanity, including humanity as a whole, what was necessary in creation of the people and hence in the creation of contemporary man, which is no longer needed, but that’s not to say the Jewish people are no longer needed, not by a long shot.

A good book to read about Jewish exceptionalism and Jews’ thoughts on the matter is The Jew in the Lotus by Rodger Kamenetz. It has informed the writing of this book, and he emailed me a copy so I could read it because I didn’t have the money to buy it (thank you Rodger), but he wouldn’t go so far as to review this book, of which he only read an early chapter some three years ago, if he even did. He stopped talking to me once he discovered my social stigma. He got a poem. He didn’t respond to that either. There’s something I’ve learned more about recently than at other times I’ve confronted it, and that’s the tendency of us, which has also come from acknowledging my own stubbornness and resistance to change, to not only stubbornly resist any changes to our beliefs and options when confronted with the facts of the matter or the truth of the thing, or some very pointed art that shows us we’re wrong, but also the strange habit of digging in even deeper with our ignorance into the grounds of reality, the better presented the facts, the more poignant the truth, the more engaging the art, the deeper that digging in. I’m just sitting here wondering how we’ve gotten anywhere with that very pronounced handicap in our ability to change. Explains a lot, you know?

Burnt Books in the Margins
You said I know.
The whole class he won’t offer humanity.
My lotus pond,
it calls everybody.
Weren’t those beachers?
They were reporters.
I’ve got a helmet law.
Tell the people who ran for congress.
I’m golden at my job.
You just do away with me.
I need a last name.
Ginsberg no I’m not I’m Duke.
There’s a lot more in compassion
than a sympathy squeeze.
You hold somebody’s hand
people are afraid to be seen with in public.
Now that’s a railroad.
And it’s out of style.
It’s priceless.
I’ve caved in;
talk to someone else.
That’s the Batmobile.
It’s not a hero’s choice today.
They’re all in to counting sin.
See past safety lines.
See what you want to give humanity.
See the right road to humanity.
You don’t bubble anybody,
enforce their isolation.
That’s river of darkness.
You’re not a happy medium.
You’ve just shown humans in caves.
How we treat one another,
it boils down to this simple test:
will you shun someone shunned?
You’ve got a measure for humanity here.
I can call out witnesses,
even Jews.
What’s it take to learn this:
you are your best person to all?
Of course you sit out here:
that’s in such a bright answer
in nonjudgmental’s ways.
You reckon not their sin
or ugly feature.
You give them your humanity.
That’s how they learn theirs.
Am I blinded by the light?
I’m seein’ our course today.
That’s the necessity
at bottom
in humanity.
Examine history,
what’s the common of our feature?
A history of scapegoats.
A borderhouse,
it’s so much cultural today.
You kinda wanna give ‘im a nice healing procedure,
what I propose,
some of that book.
You made me a promise in pages:
the culture of humanity,
we give it every last ship.
And you made me a hope,
you the author:
there’s a vocabulary for the unknown.
Spread it your wings.
It is full of Jews
and the father thinking people,
your whole life?
Know their dimensions.
Is that a copy
of a fascist’s popularity?
In its backyard,
turnin’ your back to me.
I’m not gonna start sizzling,
show everything on the planet,
but enlightenment,
you got rid of this too?
I have to say something.
Where are the wings?
What do we withdrawal?
Where are the eyes?
Maybe subject to copyright,
it says:
here’s the door;
don’t let ‘im in,
human divinity.
Do you have the tree?
Do you have the classroom?
I’ve mentioned Savitri.
I have horizons.
Just get rid of it.
It’s testing human boundaries you see.
Over the head some opportunities,
and you just throw it out?
Ground Control to Major Tom:
train your eyes on me.

Now, he doesn’t have the slightest clue as to where that exceptionalism actually comes from (I don’t think anyone else does either), and he doesn’t go as far to say that Jews are basically the alphas in Western society, but you can call them that, for the reasons I’ve explained: their terms of man and the leavening of them into and through out their peoplehood. They are not a race but a people, some common physical characteristics notwithstanding. You would not take the authority of the Nazis to call them a race, as some people are doing today so to try and remove White Jews from the stigma of White privilege. And Jews have no innate superiority. Not knowing where their exceptionalism comes from and not understanding their elevated position in society as a result of it, resenting that, and smarting from Jewish nepotism and Jewish exclusiveness and Jewish privilege, where those do show themselves, and they don’t everywhere Jews are, although they really show themselves in Israel, they get persecuted. Do you see the difference?

The night before our little group of four left for Eilat from Tel Aviv, whom I’ve called the Dharma Bums, which the universe did too I’d argue, the Englishman and I were sleeping next to one another on the beach not far from where De Factor and Rhino were jailed, which is more down towards Jaffa than the place on the beach the bust had happened. We’d left our squat, and I forget why we’d temporarily separated. He was in his early twenties and was slightly developed, in the sense I’ve described that, a comfortable and warm person to be with. I’m sorry I’ve forgotten his name, like I said. We woke just after dawn, and I remember looking out over the land and water from our little sandy perch on the world, my body still cozy in my down bag, just my head sticking out, and for just a moment I got that sense you sometimes get that the world is a strange place, unknowable really, like an alien planet, and it felt good, because I was part of that unknown, as alien as the world; you know what I mean?

I told him the two very powerful dreams I remembered from the night, dreams that still carry significance into today. They marked a turning point in my life, the very beginning of freedom. The Englishman just listened when I told him the dreams, didn’t even wince when I told him I’d had full intercourse with my mother for the first time in dream, as a man not a boy, and that I’d come a long ways to be able to do that and not be freaked out by it. I’d told him of my love for little boys, as I told anybody that got close to me and that I wanted to keep as a friend, with some exceptions of course. I just knew some people would not be able to handle it. If the person remained a friend after that, they were more likely to be true friends. The Dharma Bums were such friends.

That first dream opened a door to freedom, as weird and taboo as that might sound, which was represented by the second dream. It released the second dream. I was a prisoner in an ancient prison, and I was locked in the inmost part of it along with many others. There were many outer layers of the prison, each fortified and guarded to the max. The inmost prison was the most heavily fortified and guarded. The walls were the thick, old, yellowish, stone kind that make up the ancient sectors of the old city of Jerusalem and other places equally ancient. The guards had swords and spears and were dressed in ancient armor. I attacked a guard and took his sword, killing him, and that started a rebellion, as all the other prisoners followed suit, attacking guards and killing them with their own weapons. It turned into a fierce and bloody battle, severed limbs and heads flying everywhere. There was quite an emphasis on the bloodiness and ferocity of it. Then we stood on the ramparts, bloody, war-torn, but free men, having killed all the guards and liberating the inmost prison, looking out at the next level we had to take, knowing there were many levels and it would take a long time. In the reality of that dream we had already won our freedom, and it couldn’t be taken from us, and it was only a matter of time before we would be out of the prison entirely. The sense was that we hadn’t just won our freedom in the inmost prison, but that we were now free men, the coming battles to write that out like thoughts you think out but don’t have to because you’ve had the wordless thought already that held the kernel of the whole thing. Need I tell you what that dream represented? It’s like I was surrounded by layers. In the most basic one I’m free.

There is but left one constituent element of becoming this thing that you all hate to show you. It’s the clincher. It’s what not a one of you see, or even want to. You’ve heard me tell you I was girl crazy as a boy. Oh, even at seven I could see I liked younger boys, but there was no sexual thing attached to that, not yet. It was girls I was attracted to. I did a lot of sex play with other boys growing up, the whole nine yards, loved it too, but I’d have pushed the boy aside if a girl had come into the room, or behind the bushes, or wherever it was we did it. Entering adolescence, I was a girl lover, coming out, a boy lover. What happened?

I told you I became a Jesus freak, a very religious young adolescent. I tried to be a perfect Christian, and that included purging myself of impure sexual thoughts and sexual acts, which was not only masturbation. I was sexually active with girls my age, even had intercourse with one, at 13. The fear she was pregnant was also a big catalyst to my becoming a Jesus person. When I became sexually mature, I stopped the sex play with other boys my age but began that with little boys, and with a couple of little girls, in my neighborhood, this even as I had sexual relationships with adolescent girls. I was a sexual kid. So, when I began to purge myself of sexual thoughts and acts, even rebuking my penis in the name of Jesus, I only purged the thoughts of sex with girls my age and with women, allowing the thoughts of sex with children, especially boys, to continue, and the ensuing masturbation. I did that because I hadn’t admitted to myself that I was sexually attracted to children, was in denial of it even as I entertained masturbatory fantasies of sex with little boys. An adolescent mind is a complicated, divided thing. You see I was programming myself, unawares. You really are no help here, you know?

We do not realize that what goes down in adolescence has a lot to do with the adult we are to become, shapes us, not as much as the first years of life do, but shapes us nonetheless. All the constituent elements of ourselves are up in the air, and how they are fitted back into place, if they are and aren’t rejected with enough force to put them down into the subconscious in some lock, what I did with my attraction to women, determines the adult we are going to be. That our sexual/romantic attraction does change in adolescence if evidenced by the fact that, normally, unless someone is on the track to becoming a pedophile, a boy becoming sexually mature will change his fantasies from little girls to girls who are sexually mature, to women in other words, although there is usually attraction to the mature female all along. So our sexuality is not engraved in stone as many now believe it is, but if you want to change the engraving, you’d have to do it in early adolescence and with a religious fervor. It has to be that strong, not that you have to be religious to do it, which means you have to will to do it and will intensely, and it can’t be forced upon you. I entered adolescence with a sideline attraction to little kids and came out of it with that not only as my main attraction, but my exclusive attraction, boys being the focus of that. And there you have it.

It bears mentioning that this is my ‘pedophile becoming’. Someone else’s would be different, maybe not so dependent on early adolescence to seal the fate, and, while we’re on the subject, I can’t tell you what all early teens need, but I can tell you what I needed. I needed to have sex and that often with a girl my age, preferably one that had sexual disorder issues too. We’d almost have to restructure society to know those things about our kids. Big Brother couldn’t do it. And while we’re on the subject of forced sexual morality, let me ask you: what would you rather have, and say you had to choose between the two, a pedophile or teen sex? That’s what I thought. Have you ever thought about this?

Returning to Ein Karem, where I was camping and waiting to take the journey to the Sinai and Cairo to finish the art action of posting poems in sacred and powerful places of my culture and civilization, doing the groundwork for a book such as this I see now, I got invited to a full moon gathering in Ein Karem that Jeff was attending, but I don’t remember him inviting me. I think I got noticed walking around, looking like I’d just stepped off the New Age, candidate for Christ consciousness bus. It was a New Age gathering. It began after dark, and we were on top of a wide hill above the town, above the tomb of a Sufi saint whose name I don’t remember and whom I can’t find in a Google search. Maybe it was a Christian personage of importance? We were gathered standing in a large circle holding hands, and the first thing we did was sing our names, each one of us. I sang out Don like an opera singer, what I called myself back then. Now I’m Donny, my original name. It’s like the story of the mountain becoming the mountain again after it being so strange and different for so long.

After the name sing out, Jeff was giving the reins of the gathering, and he had everyone do his thing, which was hold your two hands close together and imagine a ball of energy between them, feeling of it as if it were really there. I could never actually feel that. The look on his face when the woman who’s property and house it was, the host, abruptly gave those reins to another person, and then another, and another, as we made our way to the house some distance away, it was not a happy face. It was more like a slapped ass. Sorry Jeff. I’m showing my butt too. The reins of the group were given to anyone that had a thing they did, energy and group-wise that is. I don’t think Jeff quite appreciated that, as he kept saying, each time we came together a moment, that he could handle the group the whole time, offended he wasn’t being allowed to, but he wasn’t angry or terribly upset. He was just showing his spiritual ego, the bane of the spiritual path because it’s so visible to people around you but so invisible to you.

Some years later I’d be sitting in a similar New Age circle, although much smaller, in the Inca ruins of Sacsayhuaman above Cusco, Peru, seated with natives of the city, not tourists. Douglas and I had apartments up there. We also had a weekly TV spot on the local Good Morning Cusco show (I forget what it was actually called) teaching yoga. We turned into a comedy hit, for a little while, doing theater skits about horny yoga instructors like Pedro Perverso and channelers and their handlers like Imposlosdos. With our badly pronounced Spanish and rather poorly done yoga postures (we were not really Hatha yoga practitioners), we just hit the right spot at the time, the city’s funny bone. It was something walking down the street and having people come up to you and know who you are. Anyway, Louis, the leader of our little group, a local dentist, gave me the reins, asking me to lead the group with that Indian mantra I sung a lot (it was the Gayatri). Anything Indian was prized, but word was around there that the Andes were the ‘new Himalayas’. Funny, I never saw any deep spirituality there. It was all New Age. When he introduced me to people, he’d always say I’d lived in India for years and years, and I’d have to always say I was there only for six months, but you know, he was actually being prophetic. I led the group in one repetition of the mantra, felling that ego swell you feel when you’re leading people and they are a following, or at least I felt, and then he gave the reins to someone else, and forgetting all about ole Jeff, I got offended.

In that gathering in Ein Karem, our movement ended at the back patio of the house and had been reduced to just a handful of people. The others were eating or milling about. We were seated in a small circle. A young woman had been given the slot to do her thing, which I was to learn quickly was channeling. The way she slightly convulsed and then introduced herself as Jesus, as if her words were about to change our lives, seemed forced and smacked of so much pride. Afterwards the other host, the husband of house, told me it was obscene, and I agreed. He commented on how everyone there now knew my name, and how lovely I’d sung it out, and I was so flattered.

That would be my last night in Ein Karen, and in the morning I would go to Issac’s and get the cash to go to Egypt and post my poems, as he was sponsoring me, just enough to survive seven days, and I was to return almost shekeless, but I managed it. Issac gave me a copy of The Sunlit Path, a book of talks by the Mother, my first introduction to her. He gave me a copy of the book, not a photocopy, as he’d ordered it for himself originally but decided to give it to me, saying he’d order another one. What struck me about that book was the photo on the cover of her standing on the stairs, looking like feminine Mystery herself, and, in the book’s contents, her understanding of childhood education and of the spiritual path. I stayed in a spare room in Issac’s apartment for a couple of days before I left Israel and went to India, to Auroville, his blessings speeding me on my way, his and Jeff’s, as he had given me a tour of a Jerusalem I didn’t know existed, leading me down thin stone steps into a cistern two thousand years old, and I had walked within a few feet of the entrance many times ignorant of the depth of time just in arm’s reach, into other places as well, where the cafes are underneath the city in three thousand-year-old stalls, and I didn’t even know they were there. He went with me by bus to Tel Aviv to the airport, he paying the fair, we both sitting like kings in the two front seats of the upper carriage, the windshield so big it went from our heads to our toes, the sunlight so warm it went into our hearts. Thank you Jeff, and thank you Issac. It would be a gross violation of good faith and given hospitality if I didn’t also thank in this book the Israeli family who lived in Yemen Moshe, near our first hunger strike camp, who feature in the Tongues story “Behind the Mask Jerusalem”. The father Josef, his son Milo, my age, and the mother of the family, slowly adopted me in my six months in Israel, encouraging me, dressing my wounds, giving me food, cash, and near the end a place to stay. And thank you so very much Israel. I couldn’t have done it without you, and that’s the spiritual path. Now can I give you something?

How do you start?
You cover it,
where you go wrong.
That’s your principle change.
You work on that.
It’s where you’ll find a handle for the world.
That’s my method.

That works for some,
if you’ve got this big wrong to the world,
somethin’ you can’t handle,
somethin’ that just takes you by the nose and runs you in ruts.
I don’t think good people understand it.
They are so self-righteous mean,
lookin’ at you.
You don’t know what to tell them.
Freewill is strong?
It has you by the balls.

I’m a lead on that rope.
I will help you get out of it.
It can be done,
and you’ve got so much help doing it,
if you can open yourself that far.
I’m on your side.
I know how it is.
A mountain,
you see it?
You’re climbing the path of yourself.
What makes you tick
you investigate,
look at everything about you.
That’s the spiritual path.

You are discoverin’ the truth of yourself
and where it intersects the world.
You want to find yourself,
who you really are.
It’s larger than spheres,
so you’ve got a lot of work to do,
investigate everything,
so it doesn’t falter you.
Nothing can stand in your way
if you are truly exploring yourself.
This is so much an inner journey.
You have so much to discover,
so much to do,
so much to learn.
It never ends.

Substances matter.
Our officials
need to embrace social change,
need to let ‘em in.
I’d caution agains pot
as a daily stopover.
as a habit forming substance.
Now read me
no substances.
We move on from that crowd.
It has its price.
Diamond LSD for pedophiles.
Can you see the social change?

Boldly face the world a question mark.
That’s how you begin.
You see the process?
You just keep asking questions.
There’s a gap here,
and it quiets down.
The hush,
they themselves,
and then with God.
You learn to be quiet inside,
not to react so to outer things.
This is at first impossible.
I think we’re dealing with this right up to the very last.
It takes such a long time
to quieten yourself down,
be calm.

God is your front man.
I told you the story
of how God happen.
He becomes everything.
You’re not foolin’ this.
It’s the reality behind the times.
You’re lookin’ at it when you see the world.
How long it takes you to see that.
You have no idea.
You just begin.
It’s your handle on meeting the world.
God has so much to teach you.
There’s God.

Oh my He hit me,
and you learn about agency,
the order of things,
everything.
Why is this happening to me?
It’s not God’s fault.
He went the other day look.
I don’t know what’s you’re talking about.
It lasted forever.
You know who that is.
I’m editing your clothes,
your clothes,
your plain old clothes.
Did you know beyond my nail?
Have you learned reality yet?
Whatever comes,
practice God,
and the Hostiles,
you’re outgrowing them.

In ten you grow up.
I’m lost in God,
minutes deep down.
Chevy bubbles up.
It’s like he inquires
and commercials.
Your status
as a person in a hotel room,
relax, there’s a video.
Like substance abuse area,
watch out for false gods,
and hit your national registered cottage
right in the face.

Nobody knows how to concentrate
integral spoon.
As you know,
there’s some forced toys Sri Aurobindo asks
to leave alone.
Don’t leave here the here out of it:
aware of my shortcomings.
I listed them,
I looked at them.
It didn’t help.
They baffled me.
I’m ready to tell me
I can’t do it.
I’m impossible.
With another life two things:
I am actually human;
I can work on it.

I improve.
I get better at it.
Then the breakthrough came:
I can do it.
I began to celebrate.
Things go backwards.
Things go back and forth.
Finally I realize,
my attitude had to be perfect.
I don’t brag to the world,
and I don’t brag to myself.
I don’t practice any firm believers.
I’m a lawyer back.
She just asked for things stolen,
and now to remember
tears what happens.

Come ‘ere.
I was okay.
I was not a monster.
I was not an evil person.
This is lawyer.
I can.
I can do it.
With that I continue,
and in time there it is,
my freedom.

What wisdom I picked up along the way.
I got to know the world.
I got to know the reason we fall as human beings.
I understood.
To remember:
how close I am to fall,
and I keep from it.
Every place that used to be alright
to show my weaknesses,
I became strong instead.
You won’t pass this zero direction
without the knowledge in my material.
I’m a unique influence,
a map
of integral healing,
a soul process.

Auroville’s national trust,
let me have ‘em.
You read your name
you a journal.
The other group
you cast out.
Noway,
you don’t do it.
You don’t do it that way.
We turn this into a peaceful
under that gun you know.
I’m admitting Auroville and me at the same time.
Entered through a curtain of bring mind,
you stock the Earth.
You have integration key,
a harmony of all parts,
a natural healing method.
It works.

Something happened
that involved the world
at its deepest level.
It touched the Earth.
The spiritual path is the path to freedom.
Enlightenment comes,
but it’s not the main goal.
Don’t worry,
it’s always there
waiting to happen.
You have a temple of God
in your very life.
All things ensue from there.
It’s beautiful.
It’s wonderful.
It’s real.

We’ve spiritual’d this out.
We’ve put it in ground zero of the Earth,
and that’s the live event,
what counts in world terms.
A book,
volumes of poetry,
they could be read or not.
This is live wire
for fuck’s sake.
I’m gonna go
and be that land to the Earth you need,
and I love you,
regardless of what you’ve done to me.

I see the whole,
and we are a part of each other,
whether you admit it or not.
No, I paid for it,
all of my mistakes
on that ugly.
You’re such the terrible thinker.
I’m redeeming the world, you know?

Concentrate
on the needed change:
we love one another,
each and every one of us.
I’ve explained what that means.
Let’s just keep going.
Whether you read me or not,
this is world process.
I’ve awoken earth kind
at the dim roots
of world need.
This is what I have done.
Hear my report.
Human behavior
has got this key in its pocket.
Now anybody can draw it out.
Do you see we are not dependent on outer circumstances?
We are here,
all together,
all at once.
Here, have this knowledge.
It’s free.

Call 911.
Someone’s violated the world.
You’re looking for
a means for change.
It’s where you also process risk.
Oh you insecure people,
you can’t let that be,
and you can’t get rid of it.
You’re so afraid of it.
You remove it from us immediately,
if you have the hands to,
and there’s where you stall change.
There’s where you blot it out.
Remove the stimulus,
we’re fine—
the report you give to the world.
I’m tellin’ yah we’re not.
We’ve just been made to do no wrong.
It hasn’t come from ourselves,
where it has to come for change to happen.
You don’t see this.
You don’t even know it’s there.
You just react
to the possibility of risk.

It’s all along the line.
It’s everywhere we turn.
It’s in your car, your sleep,
your walking down the stairs,
your cross the street.
It’s on your bicycle.
It’s on the ground.
It’s everywhere you move and live and eat.
It’s all around us.
That’s why you’re so afraid of it.
We can work with risk,
don’t let it take us,
but come together with it.

Now there’s the risk to harm a child.
You take them to school everyday.
Do you understand what goes on at school,
how many teachers abuse,
how many children bully,
how much pressure there is?
Real harm happens there,
I would suspect more than children are molested.
You have some inkling of this sometimes.
You send them to school anyway.

Am I gettin’ through?
School’s a terrible place,
but why do they go?
You think they learn there;
that prepares them for life.
And they are damaged for life because of it.
Is this not the truth?

Why are you so stubborn here?
It has to do with convention.
We are herd animals.
I’m talking out of the herd.
I show you a different way of doing things.
I show you real.
It’s right here in our hands.
We learn how to use them properly.
We learn they are our friends.
Can I get you to see this?
Can I get you to try?

He offered it,
and the election is:
oh my gosh,
that’s weird.
It’s how we change ourselves,
putting will on the equation,
putting it there.
You inform your will you understand.
Knowledge and will do meet
at the crossroads.
Let’s take the world there.

Have you ever heard this spoken so plainly?
Have you ever heard change done right?
Now hear this:
you are…
I’m an ashtray.
The butts of America
put themselves out on me.
What are you livin’?
Are you livin’ a horror story?
Are you really hurting people?
There’s danger,
but there’s also help.
It’s here.
It’s in this room.
Can what I do help you?
Yes, yes it can.

We are in serious business now.
What do I do?
You really engage yourself,
apply the method I’ve employed.
I don’t plan to take his side of it.
I’m here alone.
You’re valuable,
and help is right there close to you,
if you can see ‘em.
It is you open’s Heaven’s gates,
more so than the master.
Don’t sit there and entertain bad thoughts.
Call on the divine for help.
Call on God.
Voices hearing will not be a waste in your ear,
urging you to wrong.
You will hear the inner voice,
coming in on the situation.
Learn to discern the difference.
It moves you towards light,
doesn’t flatter you
or put you down.
It’s sweet and open.
It loves the world,
so you see
it’s what you listen to,
and it loves you,
firm but sweet.
Here I’m showin’ it to you.

Now come on,
no one has to kill anybody,
and don’t believe it.
You know you want safe.
You know it’s there.
Move into it.
Be there with yourself
and give that freedom to sin the number
you do not dial.
You’ve understood how delightful it is.
You’ve understood what no one can about it.
You feel a shape of God there.
You have some sense of mission.
You feel empowered,
excited.
I’m not really tired.
I just don’t want blood on my hands, you know?
I can’t help but feel bad about it.

Look, help is coming.
You can see it in yourself.
It’s not because it’s bad you stop.
You don’t want to hurt anybody.
You don’t want blood.
You see the situation,
and you see the way out.
Take the way out.

And Nature herself will help you.
Circumstances change.
It’s not so easy to slay.
It’s not so fun either.
Or maybe it’s all one big plan
you’ve played out so many times.
You don’t want to do it.
You want to be free from this.
Come, let’s go.
Let’s get out of this mess.
Let’s get on with our lives
freed from horror story,
and let’s do this everyday
for the rest of our lives.
Be in command
of what ails us.
Be free from it,
the horrible blood-taxed tears
of death
in the eyes of other people.
Come on let’s go.

Laugh at it
don’t touch it,
I know that from dream,
what a smart Bible.
I know a lot of things from dream.
I know my life from dream.
Finally,
I got that ancient knowledge,
your interpretation of dream.
It’s a representational channel,
showing the inner essence of things,
movements in your life,
this and that happenstance,
the nature of the universe,
what are you doing in it.

It will tell you about yourself
in no uncertain terms,
like show where you are,
what you are
at any given moment.
It can talk about the past it can talk about the future,
and most dreams are about the next day and the day before.
That blows your mind.
You can’t get over it.
Now let’s predict the future.
Your dreams do it everyday,
every single day.
How do you read that?
We are loved and cared for.
We’ve got a lot to be thankful for.

You don’t even know why.
Episode—
how horrible you are,
gunna be,
to another person,
to this flagship of people,
and it could be Nature’s gifts you know.
It was prefigured in dream.
You saw it
but did it anyway.

Amazing grace,
you’re shown to report to yourself how to change.
Seeing this over and over,
you get out of it.
You stop doing that to people.
It’s all in the book,
the fantastic book of dream.

You’ve got your own dream maker
put in light of the universe
a representative of the divine,
so you know what to change.
Incredible, isn’t it?
You won’t find anything on earth like that.
You won’t even know where to look.

It’s right here in dream,
and I’m beggin’ you for it,
so stupid with this world’s things.
I’m sorry I managed this.
Behind you look.
The stunning creature
put you in a spell and you did it,
but at least you didn’t do that boy’s ass.
You find boys won’t let you do that.
It’s a grace season.
Let’s get on with our lives.
I’ve given you a key to dream.
Put it in your pencil work and wrap your head around it,
and we’re all better for it.

You measure change
into whatever movie you’re watching.
And I’ve given you the interpretation of dream.
I’ve put it down on paper
in this digital format.
That’s the actual of dream,
telelink
to where you’re goin’.
Wait I hear negative footsteps.
There’s oil in that dream.
Don’t put it on a kid’s bottom and smash it in.
It’s not tellin’ you to do that.
Get out of this mess.
A probability has arisen.
Don’t shake its hand.
It’s not what you have to do.
It’s a probability has arisen.
Don’t make it anymore than that.
I’ve told you how to do it.

Look,
just be gentle with him.
That boy can love you so much without sex.
You needn’t cross rivers.
You needn’t take his stock.
He is so into you.
Look, he’ll give you himself.
There’s where you stay:
respecting himself.
I’d love to John but
he’s just delicious.
How many years has it been?
Nine years,
we started when you were three.
How many people say uncommon here?
This is all over the world.

Parents love their children,
and so many have sex with them.
It’s not something you want to see.
It’s so human.
Do you know how common this is?
Not so unusual,
and we’ve got a world to find out.
They walk around angry wound.
It’s their adulthood.
There’s only one way to stop it.
You stop it yourself,
and you’ve never licked the bottom before,
and to think you have to’s a trap.
There is no bottom here.
There is only continue.

Alright daddy,
mommy,’
you’ll win this war
if you try,
and I’m helpin’ yah try,
showin’ you the way out.
There’s only stop,
because you love them,
and all the knowledge keep
that informs your will,
and you stop because of this:
you love them so very much.
Please listen.

We’ve put this in the book to show you
we can change the world.
We know where the levers are.
Can anybody hear me?
Does anybody care?

Where I come from,
man I told yah,
I had sex from birth.
You know my mother stopped.
How hard that was for her,
how incredibly difficult.
I loved it,
though it was awesome scary sometimes,
her lust,
her woman’s lust.
Now you see why I like boys
and don’t like women.
We’d need a transition here:
really scared of a woman’s lust
deep down in my bones.
I’m showing you the copter,
and now we slide the transition in.
I’ve contact with God,
and there’s the way out.

Open that door,
and a hurricane comes through,
but what a gift she gave me.
She put stop in my plan.
You’re hearin’ it today
so you can stop.
That’s the master plan.

Can you offer such advice?
Can you stop them?
You see where I’m comin’ from?
That place of heal.
It’s got so much love on it.
Do you love?
You just to want to catch and kill,
or hold them in prison for the rest of their lives.
And we’ve made change?
You’ve just spit on us,
again.
You’ve spit on the whole human race,
and that’s just how you do things.
Who’s the killer here, anyway?

He lost Buckshot.
Oh God daddy. [Nitish’s voice, terribly sad]
Oh, my, God. [heard sung by Diamond Eyes, song “23”]
There was some dog there.
She was my Rottweiler companion,
glued to me like my shadow.
She was killed
by a veterinarian mistake.
Lisa Joy Rottweiler
we called her.
She was principle human,
so safe to be with
if she had you in her paws.
No death has rocked my world more.
I don’t know what to do about it.
It’s still hurts so much,
a year later.
She misses me.

You would not believe the contact we’ve had
with her on the other side.
It would educate you to the dead in our lives.
I don’t want to think about it,
but she presses on my mind all day.
I give her my grief.
We have a special mission together,
and letting her go is not an option
until it’s done.
I will rescue her
and give her
her sanctuary,
where she will wait
until I return
when I die.

Right now she’s in hazard,
a dark place between worlds,
caught in the trap of her love for me.
She will not stray far from the window to here,
and I can see that,
and oh how that hurts.
Silly puppy,
hers is a protection range.
I can’t tell you that demons rattle the house,
besiege my room,
and I fight with them everyday.
Only sometimes a form I see.
They speak in my muse.
They harass my boy in dream.
She’s a protection model,
my beloved Rottweiler girl,
and she helps keep me safe
against intrusion,
me and my little boy.
She’s an angel really.

This is field of my house,
and she’s focused on us.
Her presence comes to me so often.
I just cry,
embarrassed someone might see,
and look out the window.
She sees this,
and gives me visions of her great big head,
so close to mine,
that tongue of hers lolling out in smile
like dogs do
comfortable and at ease.
She is so strong.
She fronts evil with her paws.
She’s great.

Now what do I do with that?
Give you a vision of dog you’ve never seen before.
Oh how home they are to us.
They’re not just dogs.
They’re angels unawares,
and when you get one like Lisa,
you see the reach of dog,
but what suffering has brought this to you.
You think I’m bluffing,
but a dog’s worth
can equal ours
if they’ve reached their human,
and she has.

Now I’ll show you one more thing,
the love of dog and child.
It moulds their lives,
gives them love to play with
and loyalty
wrapped around that child.
They’re cleansers.
They’re such unabashed lovers
it makes the child’s heart sing,
and you don’t know the strength of this bond,
or you have forgotten.
Look into its eyes once more.
Now tell me God is not the cause of this.
And they are here to school our children
in love and fidelity.
Wow, what principle dog,
what holy sacrament.
It’s too common to believe,
but I’ll let Lisa show you,
that big wonderful dog
waiting on her master.
She’s here.

I’ve heard the angels sing
right here.
We each hold water for this dog.
You’re not human,
Bruno be quiet.
He’s a troublemaker,
that one.
He’s so shadow,
and I don’t know how
to get him
to stop botherin’ the female dogs.
We measure heartbeats,
not spankings.
I hold it for ‘im,
his paw,
a lot when I’m at computer,
just so he knows he’s safe and loved.
He’ll bug you to death if you don’t.
And we take care of children.
What else do you do with dogs?
And some dogs work too.
So what?
They’re still our kids.
They are our special angels.
A thought in the mind of God
that balanced our mind
with a companion of love,
that’s dog.

A catalyst for change,
you know it,
that’s the history of this book.
It’s a divine love laughter science with a twist:
it brings you home.
It’s got everything in it
in the need to see.
It’s a holy book entails
so much interpretation.
We wouldn’t treat it that way.
A lot of interpretation’s already in it.
These are your divine glasses.
They help you see.
They help you be real.
I could use some reality myself.
I am an integer in this book
just bein’ myself.
I’m not in divine form yet.
I’ve just got to where I love you,
and I do that like myself.
I’ve just go to the point I love you
just like you are.
I see the whole
frequently.

I try not to step on your feet.
I just spent the evening with my little boy.
We loved dog together.
We got crazy
with his homework.
Potty humor spell it out.
I think we belly laughed.
And the way that boy looks at me,
oh wow, it’s got stars in it.
I know we have fleeting time.
Boys grow up,
wouldn’t you know it.
He looks at me for keeps,
tells to shut up about growing up.
He likes it just the way it is.
That’s our life,
and it’s good.

Do you know the meaning of the book?
It’s bigger than stars.
We would go out of the universe with it,
and we would be ourselves.
There’s an on high,
a riding car
regarding time.
That’s us in there,
making our lives matter.
It’s the principle person we are.
It’s who made the universe
as a field for its self-expression.
We become that self.
It’s higher than thought,
higher than Mind.
The Gods both help us and oppose
our moving beyond them.
You would think I’m the Devil said that.
It’s just virgin territory
for religion.
It’s who we are,
that self on high,
who we are becoming.
It’s a new interpretation
for the book
of man’s journey through time.
It’s bound to raise some eyebrows,
religion or non.
It’s the shape of things,
explains why we’re here,
and there’s just so much to that,
more than religion can figure,
more than the human mind can know.

We are a free ship
in our truer selves.
We ride there
a vehicle of God’s love,
an expression of His force.
Great the angels sing.
We hear Supermind
beyond angels,
bigger than any God
in the cosmic sea.
That’s our real self,
the true individual
that we are.
It’s bound to come sooner or later,
the advent of Supermind.
It’s here among us now.
We wouldn’t gauge it rightly.
I see it in my room.
The form doesn’t show—
its all eyes presence.
It’s everywhere at once.

God’s presence is there
the sustainer in the room.
Supermind is our true self.
God is the whole thing.
Supermind is small in comparison but God nonetheless.
I meet Supermind
my Godself
stand and sing.

Tales,
that’s what you read here.
What do you make of it?
It’s real it’s live it’s happenin’.
I put it on your block corner today.
You will not for me let anything enter your house you don’t know.
You block the unknown.
I’m a blog unknown,
and I listen to you I’m sorry.
It’s evident in my speech.
Kunji, kunji, kunji,
why does it go so high?
Why is it the main meal of the day?
Why do you have to do it?
Can’t you just do something else?

Animal,
that’s where it breathes.
You can’t arrive there without it.
It’s hungry.
The animal nature sucks.
It’s perturbed.
It just wants to eat
and guard its territory.
How do we get rid of this
animal nature?
We evolve,
and evolution will take us to a higher type.
That’s direction enough.
I’ve put it down on paper
how to resist
in digital words.

That’s ludicrous:
we can’t keep from doing that.
We are ordered animal creatures
we can stay awake.
An informed will
bids time
it’s rock solid.
You’re lookin’ at it.
I take your hand.
It’s need,
just how whole you are in a big bed.
I have written the vocabulary.
In the future,
I think you’ll use it.
Can I just see?
I really do have the vocabulary.
Are you gonna wait until I’m dead?
It would help you now,
boy would it ever.

We have crossed the world
in the entire of a book.
I just don’t know about the read thing.
You don’t seem to want to.
Okay it’s out of my hands.
It’s written.
Bye.

Agent provocateur,
come back here.
Uncle,
grandfather,
we’re listenin’.
We’re really readin’ it.
We just don’t say a whole lot.
I don’t know if thank you’s the right word.
What’s you’ve given us
defines the world.
I am so excited to read it.
I’ve read it done.

You just never know
what those views mean,
and right now,
they’re few and far between.
I’ve published a book
online,
and writing it while I post it,
well not completely.
It was finished some.
If this were an experiment in reading,
like that alternative format,
the results were dismal.
I think we’ve processed delete,
and we can get rid of it today,
so easily.
No, not this baby.
It’s here to stay,
grounded completely in time.
And that’s the storybook.
You hear me Houston?
Okay world,
I’m done.

A laughter love story,
it’s yours for the takin’,
divine word.
We laughed at ourselves for an hour,
and then just went to sleep.
Divine providence reads it.
I am so very careful with seer.
I don’t hit you over the head with
I am a chosen preacher,
and I am a the prophet;
God will destroy your city if you don’t;
He’ll make you eat your children.
Oh, I’m going too far.
Let us return to peace.
It’s a book about me,
but it’s not centered on me.
I am infallible,
that’s not me.
Look it’s God I want you to look at.
God is free.
Even in Supermind we adore Him.
Just wait and see.
Goodnight people.
Snorin’ dogs will put me to sleep,
and I’m complete.

The prophet speaks.
Will you shut up?
Align with me.
I am a seer see,
a poet-seer,
and there it is.
Will you shut up?
Rage puppy,
oh I forgot about that crowd.
How to burn a book
if it’s online?
Hackers,
they won’t let you read,
or they try and stop you.
Not the brightest crowd,
damn right dumb if you ask me.
What are they tryin’ to prevent,
manipulate public opinion?
Hey look,
they are so manipulative,
block you from reading material
that would make you think differently than them,
and that shows their superiority?
They just hate, you know?
She was singin’ bye bye Miss American Pie. [heard sung, by Don McLean]
If you leave me now. [heard sung, by Chicago]
Uh oh, we’re windin’ down.
See yah later.

Teacher, leave those kids alone. [heard sung, by Pink Floyd]
Shut up.
You’re just a Hostile power
mixin’ in my music.
I can recognize you,
see?
And we wrote it down,
the whole nine yards.
We’re done.

We’re ready to happen with society.
Brain pickings
five hours from now,
but that’s gonna last
so happily through the ages.
So long.
He reveals himself
that part of man’s mind that thinks of Him.
He reveals himself as a God link,
and that’s the driving of this book.
The author’s stuff,
his worry,
is just a vehicle to get there.

Totally devoted to You,
that’s where we’re goin’.
That’s the icing on the cake.
It doesn’t get any larger than this.
Do you understand my balance?
It’s a vehicle for this Earth.
Beings are a dime a dozen.
We get to know God.
Public spirit
we got there.
Supermind was just a stepping stone,
tremendous,
really, really big.
Come on let’s get going.

The stigma of the pedophile,
that’s not read today.
The stigma of the pedophile,
it won’t let anybody believe it.
You are not supposed to speak,
you’re feeling the taboo yes.
It’s a better book that way,
more real, innocent.
I would not be cosmic:30.
I would be a wharf in your room
where you can dig for deeper fishes.
I am so led by history you have no idea.
You just say no.
And no shelf
of no read
will keep this book from being read forever.
You’re intendin’ me some just by bein’ here.
Adios.

I peed in my pants.
I clean it all up.
Now showing in the depths of Auroville,
the liberal elite.
They don’t got any stakes higher than that.
As besieged as they are,
I’m on their shit list.
Now you wanna landmark?
There it is.
I ask you to read my book and pass it on to Auroville,
a pick me up,
right about now.
I remember thinking
what can you do?
Too angry to set fire to my words,
Aurolow is in a bad position.
We need to get them off the ground.
We need to get them started again.
The ways and means committee decides how much politics,
how much voice.
Everybody’s staying here tonight.
We’ve got a lot to go over.
That’s your package.
I’ll see yah in the morning.
Goodnight.

What do we do for air flyers?
You’re writing on her book.
Didn’t know she’d do that
after questioning the law from destruction,
and it started everything:
and help me I’m super.
We’re not gonna use your word.
Don’t just stand there and shoot human unity.
I’m sorry,
I stood between you and Tamils.
I am not that now,
and try not to be in on this shot:
the secretary will try to kill me,
once she gets a load of me.
I barely remember that from dream.
Dream exaggerates,
but you see the threat.
Now she’s a pole employee,
and that pole can be removed.
It’s all in the book.
Are yah hearin’me?

I’m on my way.
Here, make a story different,
make the whole thing different.
I’ve got your love at heart.
Piece me together, will yah?
The history of a lifetime
gets you a private school.
I’m lovely to your cold tablet.
Just pick me up.

You read it.
I can feel the shift.
To be interested in the best and the rest reading,
Auroville give me a glow.
I don’t think you understand I’m your seer,
and cities like you have always had one.
Why wouldn’t it be now?
Modern times exclude them?
You just don’t know what you’re looking at:
divine intervention
that a seer expresses to his world.
I didn’t get a chance to show you
years ago:
my mother and sorrow and with other man to eat,
the one I was years ago.
First thing do gonna take medicine,
what this book is on its most basic level.
Have it course,
have it now.
Stand for the movie.
You’re likely to get inspired by it.

He was so impress us.
His cells early had the light.
We gave him our middle finger.
Come and doubt
what make me visible again.
Is that yours?
I am, really, truly, here.
Can you forgive me?
Our museum,
no it’s crazy:
everywhere you come you die.
We just don’t know how to listen to kids.
We don’t know how to listen to anyone.
Alright Auroville, alright,
you have so much of my stuff.
He hung up,
and now it got weird.
You might say he had some friends.
They helped him—
Auroville live up to your charter.
Hide away,
here we go.
Ooh grandmother,
you’re serious.
That’s the Mother,
and she’s here,
sending modern letters to the captain
because of Brian.
Get ready.

Computer this is,
computer teaching,
your fault.
You’re acting the whole comes out,
and forget it.
It’s far from you.
People don’t understand the need to read human things.
We just hand-me-downs.
Hey buddy,
you’re not the only one
provide answers to humans.
A little tired baby,
a little headache braid,
that’s what it does to you,
the computer medium.
In heaven,
even if they die,
we’re gonna feel their aftereffects a long time.
They dangers in using them
put us all at ease.
Computers generate hostility.
There’s your Internet.
There it is plain.
Let’s get back to microphones
to call one another.
They mysteries of the airways have us all on our feet.
Are you listenin’ to this?
You don’t know it, do yah?
Now this book is processed
a room to say you’re sorry in.
Give it to people.
Alright everybody,
I’ve said enough.

A Medieval adventure,
why they after the camera?
A Hindu camera,
Islamic State in religious observation.
Fear this.
Nobody wants it,
especially the people who think they do.
Get it the Matrimandir,
they’ll eventually control India,
tougher even
than any Moslem fundamentalist regime.
Come on,
Auroville’s where we meet.
Every able-bodied person in the world
converge on Auroville.
Free it from government hands,
and bring it
to the uplifting of the world
a human unity center
and the place we create the new human being,
where love holds the door,
nothing authoritarian.
Come on let’s get out of here.

It is time for me to say
goodbye.
Who am I fool?
I can’t get read today
because of the tightly controlled races.
A computer never allow me.
Hero fantasies,
hero wars,
that’s what you’re doin’ online.
You don’t have a clue what’s goin’ on.
You’ll stop and tweet
to say somethin’ profound:
I don’t know what to do!

Manny you’re next,
but you’re naked.
Now I’ll tell yah,
just like there’s right action there’s right speaker,
and you’ve found him.
Here I am.
It’s that dog.
Yeah, it’s that dog.
You don’t have to worry.
I’m afraid you’ll never see me—
everybody’s censorship.
Put those on a month.
In less than a month
I’ll be in your garden.
Mornin’.

9/11 came from conflicts in Israel.
It happened there—
and you understand it.
Israel’s got the foreign policy of sharks.
Okay and we see that.
Now let’s go
channel her to humanity.
You know the flavor of this book.
It calls for peace in all settlements
in the land of Israel.
We’d need to help them do that.
You hear me?
Don’t fudge on this.
The Jews have to accept humanity, period.
It’s the only way out of this mess.
And we’ve got a sovereign State of Israel
learnin’ how to love the world.
Okay I gave you the book on that.
I mean we begin.

That will certainly relay the cosmic guitar
you get in Heaven.
It’s not a dust model.
It’s clear open and honest.
It’s good.
Throw the dust toy a limited view.
This is more about models,
sky history.
Paint it red and orange and gold.
Let’s get on with it,
building our reality.

My talking to the announcing editor also helps.
Who’s sleeping all in they’re a baby, isn’t it?
Nature added up the original score by banging it.
You see what I just did,
shaking it for to our understanding.
Memories of leaven filled the pie.
Seconds of the processing center,
listen to my voice,
you are still illegal in man’s eyes.
We get there from here,
to a whole lot of redemption.
Then it will have
live poetry reading.
That’s what you said.

Luna,
what are you doing?
That’s not your bag that’s Lisa’s.
Human awareness,
that’s your ordeal too.
Let’s bake this bread,
take this show on the road,
get right down to changin’ the world.
Would the world hear me?
Would it even care?
And we get the equipment,
regardless.

A monumental change
is happenin’.
You know what they say about the missing link?
That’s his file.
Wow, hallelujah.
That was hung over.
Look at that process,
a success.
They’re all over the place,
world ideas.
You can’t find them
on a regular news stream platform.
Now look behind you.
You’re going out of business.
Look they network.
They get to humanity despite you.
Blue line,
from orange to some practical gold,
ask anyone,
it’s the dream of humanity vision.
Oh my God it’s you.
See yah in the morning.

We’re thoughts on the line,
every picnic basket,
every universal human.
They’re in every principle place on the planet.
A milestone
this book is formed.
It reaches you anyway,
even if you don’t read it.
World process is not dependent on books.
They give rise to things already done.
They’re just a record.
What has bubbled to the surface for our keep?
Now I’m a national anthem,
and we employ a world chant too.
Peoples of the world unite.
We got a lot to do,
boy have we ever.

Sorry,
you’re hearin’ my boy in my arms,
sleepin’ away,
and a five-year-old
I let him be with me.
A ten-year-old would be big and little at the same time.
What I love you takes care of them.
They are so sweet and little, you know?
Look I’m tired.
We go to the lake in the morning.
We must be there
the finishing of the book.
That’s all I’ve doing, writing,
just about nonstop.
So long.

A five-year-old,
he hangs out with me.
I love my golden retriever,
and that’s the storyline.
We got it.
What are we doin’ here?
My God that’s bigger than answers.
You see?
And we’re ready to go.
We’re on world terms.
We’re where they happen.
We’re in sync with you.
I’m right here to inform you
a world is on our table.
Half exists
as a physical motion.
The other half’s comin’ out of the water now,
right before your very eyes,
bright world ideas dripping with change.
Gather ‘em up, move ‘em out.
We're in the light of time.
We’re there, you know,
a world round at your feet.

This is ridiculous.
Gotta get some sleep.
I hand you the world
for your good keeping.
Take and disrespect it no.
A world is at your eyes,
and like a child watch it grow.
That’s the large part,
and that’s our expression now.
A bell for humanity,
I’m showin’ you the way home.
I’m showin’ you
the large degree.
Keep it safe and warm.
It’s your very child.
He has such soft skin,
and I could hold him in my arms all night.
I usually do,
those nights he stays with me.
Goodnight.

Bruno,
stop pawin’ the boy.
Gimme your paw.
I’ll hold it too.
Dogs and kids,
the dogs are a little jealous.
Luna where you at?
Right at my very feet,
and we’ve got ourselves a convoy,
takin’ night to a good night’s sleep.
Sweet dreams.

Leelow stop beating your tail against the bed.
You fat dog.
I love you too.
I think we’ve counted everything
in the world’s bed
we need to draw attention to.
Stop flappin’ those ears Luna.
I know you’re here.
Please bear with me.
I can’t turn this off.
Ah, there it is,
the lever.
I hold you in my arms tonight
world.
He said he’s going to Cleveland.
Who pulled your chain?
Now goodnight.

He’s slept through this whole muse envision—
kids.
Oh God is that the fires of dawn?
Muse, let me go.
And we go.
Thank you.

I’m ahead
of where you think you are.
Okay that’s litter.
I’m in the beginning stages of man.
Try again.
I’m at world process, you know?
I think we’re comin’ along.
We Grasp the World Now.
I do. I do.
Good answer,
those risks
are quality,
and I’ve been showin’ you that all night long.

Oh the importance of dawn,
even birds sing it.
All the animals sing it,
it’s so good to see.
It lights up our world
with the responsibility
of daytime.
Now before we get out of bed,
let’s fly this room
right into dawn.
Done,
the book is finished.
Nitish sleeping with a jealous Bruno beside him. Photo by me.

Next post:

Epilogue of Ideas

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