I intend to write poetry but often something more ambiguous wants to come out. This time it is a kind of textual journey about being ordinary and yearning to access the mystical.
What's the point of being with the in-people
if not so that when you come back out
you have reached another level
and can teach what it's all about
Take me to the mystics meeting
in this instant, however fleeting
I've got all this time to spare
Let me see what those can share
Who are beyond the carnal care
I have got this fatal flair
Of involvement in the world's affairs
But briefly catching glimpses I
of that which outside inside lie
Ideas to take away the towers
Ideas to cover worlds with flowers
Ideas that come from unknown powers
Ideas to awaken sleeping cowards
More meta than the meta-metas
More theta than the alpha betas
More gamma than Buddhas dhamma
More concrete than a one-way street
Here we reside.
Here we abide.