Homey Prophet Speaks

homeless prophetWhere you want to put it, fool?

On the dark?

All right.

I’ll say it again: All right.

All right. You know it’s gonna be

all right.

Everything is gonna be all right

even when it’s not.

Perfection includes imperfection.

And that includes you, fool.

So where you want to put it, my brother,

My perfectly imperfect worry machine?

You want to concentrate on a panoply of indignities,

like man-made war, and man-made disease?

You want to examine

Poor brown children wrenched by famine?


All right. You say you want answers

You say want leaders

You pray for salvation

At Church, to St. Peter

mystic speaksAll right. Ask for forgiveness

Ask and repent

Ask for an ending

To ongoing Lent.

But understand: there’s those of us who care to think

that knowing God demands a link

to better angels, to vibes much higher,

illuminated by eternal fire,

the one that burns within

where there’s no hell and there’s no sin.

Not to go off on a tangent

The problem is – and I’ve confirmed this with my management—

The problem is we got

Too many poems

Too many books

Too many lost souls

Don’t know where to look.

Right? Right?

It’s been proven: if you focus on the light

you’ll develop brilliant sight.

This issue is settled. OK? All right?

No? Yes? No?

All right. Let’s have a little argument

Let’s have a little tiff

Let’s castigate and conjugate

Instead of light a spliff

We can commence to disagreeing

About cannabis and worshipping

And different ways of seeing.

But, my brothers, my sisters,

Focus_on_the_Light_and_Relax_by_love1008You can stop your fretting

Because it’s all been decided. It’s all been settled.

Universal understanding. Universal consciousness.

The opposite of obnoxiousness.

Everybody knows –- and this is “terrific” and scientific:

The darker the berry the sweeter the fruit.

The higher the thread count the finer the suit.

Extraneous issues pretend to be moot.

But inside our dreams they squawk and they hoot.

Yes? No? Yes?

Hey. Hey!

Now you want to challenge me?

Pay the fee. This is a catastrophe

of misunderstanding and misoversitting

of imprecise verbiage and petty hair-splitting -–

dispensed with gleefully, wistfully, fitfully, cheerfully.

Call me a prophet, call me a visionary.

God has asked me to tell you that

It’s coming our way like a tropical storm

heaving and howling and breaking the norm

the usual form

once hot now warm.

Everything that looks different is actually the same.

Look, I understand, my brothers, my sisters, your fear and your shame.

But here’s the big news, the climactic reveal:

I am you and you are me.

This issue is settled. The Oneness is “we.”

So where you want to put it, fool?

On the light?

All right.

Yes. All right.


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