oh, universe, what have you burdened us with?
i’ve an ego i can’t shake;
i am what i hate:
stupidity, hubris, decline;
i’ve the confidence of invaders
invading the sublime,
and the will of empires…
I’ve an EGO that demands dominion
contrition submission
but never – no never
a bout of self-reflection:
What Revolution can I bring
If there’s no revolution in me?
what thing can I newly see
after the storm has cleared away the trees:
will I find there was always love
where I imagined nothing but me?
will I find there was, indeed, brotherhood
spelled out from all the blood
driping from the broken noses
that littered my war path?
or, brimming full of ego
will I only find solace
in the sun’s worship of my tender skin
forgetting all that I could have been?
i don’t remember when
this Ego decended upon me;
it was not a trancendental moment
as some would have you believe…
No, it was quite and stealthy
in the desires of puberty,
in the streets of acceptance,
in the youth of dirty tricks,
in the play of light upon our eyes –
i would work that my ego dies.
but shall I, shall I?
shall I kill the only thing
I have known is me?
and after, how shall WE speak?