SM Babylon

Telling the Truth That Sets ME Free
Hal’s Bar, Venice, CA
4-13-09, 4-24-09










My baby’s gone! She done left me high and raw.
The world knows and everyone has a comment.

Outrage from the gardener
Insight from the shrink
Support from my bud
Analysis from my brother in law
Maybe from a practitioner
Frustration from my older brother-mentor
Optimism from my street vendor friend.
And me I fall into the love pit where you can’t see the bottom or the top.

BOGUS! She, me, love, relationships, L.A., the church and YES------------
God! Dammit! The thousand names of Allah and Ram.
Rumi you lucky twirling mystic.
Leary you psychedelic trickster.
Lennon you dreamer.
Marley you 11 baby mama propagator
Rajneesh you ‘free’ lover
Muktananda you devotee user
Beckwith you agape love surrenderer
Pollack you expressing drunk
Ginsberg you howling ommer
Jesus you crying martyr
Gautama you mindful fatso
Erhard you used car salesman who got it

All of y’all.
Talking your way into smug self conning and
then having the chutzpah to hype it.
Worse than the doctor who promises a cure and then charges when you don’t.
We are talking peoples’ hearts, dreams, souls.

A common line runs through all of y’all:
‘Tell the truth and the truth will set you free.’
Well, the truth is you don’t know the way.
And if you do then it is for you, not me.
In Jamaica they say, ‘back off screwface.’
Bob Dylan said it best, ‘don’t follow leaders, watch your parking meters.’
And to paraphrase the Who, ‘I fooled myself again.’

Casting my gaze after this reverie I spy a worthy object of veneration:
Round, brown, curvy and wavy hair, coco complexion
Wearing them 4” spike heels.
Just the right amount of make-up.
Lips slightly parted in that come here position.
This girl is a serious magnet
Staring, staring, staring.
My meditation practice kicks in.

She lures my lower chakra
My mind rebels
My heart regrets
My body craves.
And she smiles coyly.

A muscular, bald, dude hovers over her
Moves in, backs off.
She touches his thigh lightly.
You can feel his hard-on in the air.
I frown outside and laugh on the inside.
Big results from the many years of spiritual practice.
Observing and noting from my pulpit at the bar.

And the river flows, flows, flows.

Labels: break up, truth seeking