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

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

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