Passion Of The Born Again Poet
Poverty of the heart
A beating bankrupt mechanical machine
Void of the thrill of exhilarating art
Pumping the essence of mere meager existence
Always giving but never truly living
Until Love as a grand mystical force
Became the source
Born again torn when I came to discover
That life itself was my sensual lover
To capture the universe in radical rhythmic verse
I kissed the desire
Embraced the fire
My blessing synonymous to the ultimate curse
I wondered in deepest compassion
The plight of the poor
The wickedness of war
I sought to define my place in time and space
In capturing the muse I was caught
In liberation and liberating I was taught
All the answers seemed to fade into the wind
And I guilty of the greatest sin
Convicted of looking with a blind eye
And being deaf to the overwhelming cry
It was change or die
To embrace the truth and forsake the lie
The hammer had struck
Fragments flew in diverse directions
Miserable woes, too numerous to mention
But the solace of my manic misery
Was the undeniable truth
I was free
They may give me a barb wire crown
And crucify me in the darkness on the edge of town
Still I have the answer that the prophet's sought
And life now full of the
Passion Of The Born Again Poet
Would never again be for naught
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