Listen to the Poet

Caught between time and timelessness and all I can do is bite my nails and wonder what to do with the moment, a moment that teeters on the unstable edge between narcissism and divinity.

I wait in the in-between… falling back and forth, first into boundless grace before returning again to the other side of my face.

I search for words to uplift my ego, then for words to dismantle it…

From the standpoint of self my greatest fear is that I have nothing to say

From the standpoint of infinity my greatest fear is that I do.

I know how easily words can fall into, cover over, and continually hide this intimate space of We.

Instead of holding you in the embrace of recognition, I slip over, violently push through or prematurely ejaculate on You, on We.

So driven by a desire for my own orgasm all I can hear is my own voice, so intent to feel a sense of self through words, by saying the last word, by earning your love with my words… Words become my false hope for validation, a sense of proclamation, or some continual attempt for admiration.

If you want to see the face of my shadow, listen to my words.

If you want to witness the pained struggle of a nonexistence self attempting to stabilize existence, listen to my words.

If you want to know the circular torment of hell

Listen to the unconscious stream of my words, bordering on the schizophrenia of continual repetition.

And if you want to hear the voice of God…listen to my words.

For when time stands still and my own pleasure looses its allure, my words become a selfless offering to You, to We.

These words become a revelation, a divinization, a manifestation of sacred calculation unfolding the freedom of spontaneous co-creation.

If you want to see my light, listen to my words

If you want to come Home, listen to my words

My sentences become grammatically structured by Radha

My poetics become the loving cry of Allah

Krishna dances as he plays his flute on my empty page and begs me to write his song for You, for We.

Listen to my words and love will bind you

Listen to my words and your shadow will find you

And listen to what Rumi says because a poet is a prophet…

Invite it all in

laughing.