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Dhani

Dhani

When Dhani (Pronounced Donny), the secret hitting coach of recent fame, was forced to return to India last time, some of the Mets players responded by spotting what was considered then to be hallucinations about squirrels; others insisted they were raccoons or even rats…but some said it was none of that – it was an alien race of birds that were a lot smarter than people – and hungrier – you can imagine the fear. What could possibly go wrong?

Dhani, (Pronounced Donny) was the secret hitting guru, many of the Mets hitters inwardly went to for future secrets on hitting. Like what pitch, what at bat, what time of day, what chop-suey, what chained down bottle of Merlot, what ghost –
They’d do anything to improve their averages, repeating Meher Baba’s Perfect Name

Play ball!

Between 2019 and 2021 was considered at that time only aged 10, a hitting coach extraordinaire. But because of green card issues, somehow, in the dark of night, Dhani was very quickly ushered away and suspiciously expelled from America without warning or reason.

Only latter was it determined that he was air-lifted out of America and dropped into the city of Rishikas, India, where he has now resided until just recently. In April, he was spotted by some Mets themselves, almost unbelievably, dancing atop the Empire State Building with 3 players and a player to be named later from a cross-town team proclaiming “We can rule the world…”

Dhani is now 12.5 years of age and is considered by many Baseball scouts to be the first ever Perfect Master of Baseball

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Bursting At The Seams

Bursting At The Seams

What a long, strange trip it’s been
Now to find myself with Baba
Instead of myself
My whole self
And nothing but myself
And his mischievous companions:
Me, myself and I

All suave and debonair
But subject to decay
It’s not a matter
Of whether or not we obey
It’s obedience to breathe is innate
Like what would happen if our next
Breath was suddenly taken away
To understand
What helplessness really means

So I take my next breath in freedom
With Baba bursting at the seams…

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Energy

Energy

Having our psyche broadcast
And culturally fine tuned
Like a strap razor blade
In a Norman Rockwell feature painting
Soaked into the canvas
Until one’s true nature pops through

Energy is GOD
I’m reminded to mention
Somewhere in Valhalla
As the individual love song
That you are is so sweet
As it was originally sung
Into the beauty of the stars
It’s just the energy you are
What a long, strange trip it’s been
Now to find myself with Baba
Instead of myself
My whole self
And nothing but myself
And their mischievous compadres:
Me, myself and Irene
All suave and debonair
But slightly subject to decay
It’s not a matter
Of whether or not we obey
It’s obedience to breathe is innate
Like what would happen if our next
Breath were suddenly taken away
To understand
What helplessness and hopelessness
Really means
So I take my next breath in freedom
With Meher Baba bursting at the seams…

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Like Jupiter

Like Jupiter

It would have to be big
Like Jupiter
Or the Hulk
To scare me
Or make me pee my own pants
Or surrender
My reflex to squeeze or relax
Hold it! Flash!
Another thunderbolt
Unconsciously unconscious
They told me not to get old –
I didn’t listen

If I gave them GOD SPEAKS
And it’s
Used as kindling
The very next day
Into the fireplace
Or maybe used as emergency toilet paper
What’s that to me?
I did my part
Made contact
They’ve glimpsed Meher Baba
Where a revolution in its’ own right
But inward
Is always taking place

As long as we
Are all still agreed
It doesn’t mean a hill of beans
Even unspoken hills
Ingesting unspoken thrills
Manufactured at unspoken tills
Sold by unspoken shills
Just to make a point
We leave our animal nature behind
To let our true Divine Nature shine
Meher Baba! Meher Baba! Meher Baba!

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Calling All Cars

Calling All Cars

Calling all cars
Calling all cars
Do you read me?
Over

Yes 4,761
You’re one of the homeless
Outside Baba’s wine shop

Buddy can you spare a dime
Then I’ll tell you about the Bliss
One nip of which
And true freedom
Begins to abide inwardly
Awakening

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Bare Assed

Bare Assed

OF COURSE
Addiction to love
Is always a source of great humor
When the ego hits the soul
Hit and run, rock and roll
As are the rounds of births and deaths
They come and go like explosions
Soon forgotten
In the milieu of Eternity

Yes Baba
I understand my weaknesses
Can we just have fun for now
And spread the hard work out
Over several lifetimes?

He said
You’re already on the credit plan
The soul stays away
In embarrassment
To first hand knowledge
Of what bare assed meant

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Palace in Valhalla

Palace in Valhalla

It’s official

Each drop soul suffers
And is suffering
Otherwise where
Would we get all the grist
For the mill of LOVE
Gradually AWAKENED

I got the memo
I took the cure
And am forwarding it to you

We suffer most
Through the pain of separation
From the Beloved
Though disguised as the world
We all struggle up the hard way
Up from mud
Oblivious to the goal
We drink the blood
We eat the flesh
We sample the fine wines
Available at the subtle
Clandestine wine shop
Run by the Avatar of our age

This is not just some Palace in Valhalla
Or some subtle plane Yogi
Flirting with Nirvana

This is Meher Baba

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Perfect Master

Perfect Master

Somehow finding the light
Or somehow as the light finds you
From a real “true to life”
Perfect Master
Who am I to say whom?
I am fastened to the hem
Of the Beloved Avatar

Meher Baba

Is like turning the light on
In a room where you
Had been working for so long
In the painful dim din

Only more fortunate

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Flower Temple

Flower Temple

Any whiff of political indoctrination in poems
And I stop reading
Just as one might stop reading
Anything that seeps the frankincense of religion

But let us now celebrate each’s accomplishments
And raise a glass once in a while
Rather than suffer
How they both have mislead

So I save it for the last line:
Let us now fill our own room
Drowning in the Flower Temple
Of GOD’s Perfect Presence…

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Sleep

Sleep

Everyone knows
How important sleep is for health
But no one can sleep

These days
The stimulation of technology
Is unavoidable
Along with the incessant
Bombardment
Of sugary, caffeinated beverages

Picture a sloppily turbaned man in India
Rags for clothes
Out plowing manually with a beast of burden
In the fields
Pausing for an intense conversation
On his cell…

It’s the new age baby
Adapt or get bulldozed under

By a highly intelligent bulldozer