Thursday, April 11, 2013

Confessions p 27

Back in the old country, the poets say

I learned manners from the ill-mannered
I learned honesty from the dishonest
I learned faith from the faithless

What a fool I was each time I cursed the world
When the source of my frustration
Was my own inability of such alchemy

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Holy blasphemy p 1

I heard a zealot exclaim
Imagine you could hear God reciting scripture 

A hundred thoughts went off in my head
Not all of them pleasant

Yet I drank in his words 
Past the constriction in my throat
The copper aftertaste of dogma 
And the knot in my gut

Maybe that is exactly what we are hearing
Right now
In the stillness of the night
In the birdsong of the dawn

Maybe it is God reciting scripture
On the street corner busking for a buck 
In the marketplace hustling for a bite
Dinner for two or three or more 

Maybe it is God whispering scripture
Through the lips of family members and lovers
When they betray themselves 
When they betray one another
Because even betrayal is sacred
Because every stepping stone to forgiveness
Is a sacred ascension to a higher plane