Swami Binned

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One of the anagrams for my name is: Swami Binned 
The prompt for Poetic Bloomings: use only the resulting words or phrases found in the letters of your name in constructing your poem.
Mine were mainly nonsense so I took one anagram and a story of it.

Swami Binned

When I was young,
back in the 60’s,
the Beatles and others
went all psychedelic,
TM and such.
Caught up in the mood
but being from a small town
where the most common form
of contemplating your navel
came from a still – white lightening,
and being southern Baptist
allowed only Welch’s grape juice
I didn’t expect to ever be “enlightened.”
But, lo and behold, in a town not far way
Swami Binned was featured at the Bijou.
I went to see what it was all about
but the local ministerial cooperation (a
misnomer if ever there was) picketed
at the entrance, and as luck would have it
our very own Deacon White was right in front
and no way could I slip in past him.
Well, I happened to see the great Swami
sitting in his car in the alley behind the theatre
and ran up to glean some wisdom from his lips.
Oh, great Swami, can you tell me what life is all about?
Expecting a formal, sing songy, voice
and prayer hands at the chin
and slight bow of the head
I got instead a peace sign and a far out, man,
and some weed a’blowin in the wind.