This came from my "muse." |
Sitting in a coffee joint sipping a mocha, While a folk artist sings of life experience And we are all vicariously entertained. I meditate on tantric illusions: Psychic vampires conceived By New Age confusion; Mantras creeping and swirling around us The world floats by outside. While at the intersection the semaphores change unceasingly I feel an sense of impending doom... Checking my watch I wait for the crash... but it never occurrs Psychic vibrations urge me on to other places, but I sit ignoring all Rationalizing: too broke, too tired, not enough education "My family wouldn't like it" outside, on the street, a car accelerates through the yellow light, beating the red I sigh, finish my coffee, and get up Thinking about work on Monday, car repairs, bills I shrug away aspirations. Everyone's right. You gotta repay the loans, buy a house, fix the car Prepare for the tomorrow that may never come... (sometimes those ignored psychic warnings catch up) Now as I enter the light, taking one last chance to glance at my shattered, prone form, one question glares at me from the embrace of eternity "Why didn't you come when I called?" I lower my head in shame, nothing to say But God demands an answer. "I'm sorry Father," I say, "Life got in the way." |