Poet to Poet

Poet to Poet
5-4-01

"When we become truly ourselves,
we just become a swinging door..." ~Suzuki
Poet,
To find
harmony
within the universe,
one must first
find
harmony
within
oneself/

This
is the harmony
I'm seeking.

Inner-peace

Inner-tranquility

Inner-serenity

Inner-wisdom
and knowledge

~

Intuition /
sparked
and honed
and honored

Intuition /
danced to
like jazz

Intuition /
almost like sex
when it's pure
and adhered to

~

Learning
to adjust
to the universe around me.

Learning
to detach &;#8230;
and not to roll everything
into a personal, emotional message.

Learning
to treat
existence
like a classroom &;#8230; and a teacher /
a beautiful, wise, sensual teacher.

~

Imagine it, Poet &;#8230;
and create it
within your mind.

Dance it

Write it

Feel it
in your heart
and in your soul &;#8230;

Become a piece of it &;#8230;
and then share it
with the rest
of the world.

(pause)

The street
writes
its own
type
of poetry

And the poets
discuss it
at the coffee shop
at the edge of the universe

~

Long walks

Movies

Dinner
in restaurants
that serve candlelight,
wine,
and a thin, wonderful chance
at romance.

~

Romance
is a moment &;#8230; a heartbeat &;#8230; two eyes
blinking
simultaneously
in the candlelight.

Believe
in the myth.

Believe
in the mystery.

Believe
in the story
told
by the poets
gathered
at the coffee shop
at the edge of the universe

(pause)

A blackgirl
at the coffee shop
at the edge of the universe
sits alone
at the counter.

I wonder
if she realizes
she's a poem?

I wonder
if she realizes
that her image dances
naked
and alone
in the night?

I wonder
if she realizes
that her strange, karmic journey
is moving down
a dead end road?

Everyone, it seems, sits alone
in here.

It's a place
of meditation,
even for those
who don't realize
they're meditating

It's a place of jazz,
and poems,
and twisted pieces of romance

It's a place of dance

and a place
where free-thinkers think,
and prostitutes rest

~

Everyone
sits alone
at the coffee shop
at the edge of the universe

~

Lost passions

Lost poems

Lost pieces
of the dream

It is where I'm having
coffee this morning

It is where
I'm thinking
of you

and wondering &;#8230;

I should close
I have missed you so, poet...

Do write soon,
as I forever hunger for
your words.

SAS