Exhibition

I have an idea
for an
art gallery.
Please hear
me out:

Would you be
willing to
join a few
of your neighbors

and spend
an hour or two
being the
exhibits
at an
Exhibition

where you
sit in a
comfortable
chair
and

the rest of us
wander around
remarking
on the sheer
beauty
of your
one-of-a-kindness,
the originality
of the genius
that informs you,
the artistry in
your every
once-in-the-cosmos
feature?

After awhile
you would
rise
and others
of your neighbors
would take
your places.

And so it
would go.

(Photo by Alexander Jawfox, UnSplash)

 

Self Improvement

I set about
to improve
an orange.

An average orange,
grocery store
produce department.

First
I bought some
paint,
actually called
“Orange Peel”
to fix
the outside.

What a mess.

Then I
wondered
about using
a syringe
to inject some
one-hundred percent
certified pure
orange juice
inside that
little globe.

But by now
I just wanted
to
eat it.

It was
really
good.

(Photo by Tomi Vadasz, UnSplash)

 

What Would Jeebus Do?

Years back,
in a peccadillo
of whimsey,
I asked my
nephew, Mark,
to wield his
Needle of Beauty
and scribe
“What Would
Jeebus Do”
on the canvas of
my forearm.

I meant no
disrespect
to the One
who thought
a grand debut
would be to
get this party
started
with some
Water Into Wine.

So, when I
wondered,
this morning,
if I had overstepped
my bounds,

I swear
I heard Him say,

“Oh, c’mon Steve!
You know
how much
I love
a little joke
between
friends.”

 

We See You

Who do you
think you are?
Judging
your Self.

You can’t even
see the
underside of
your own
chin.
Try it
without using
a mirror.

You think you
know yourself
so well,
but we can see
your beautiful
backside and
you can’t,
without using
two mirrors.

You are in
no position
to pass judgment
on your insides,
either.

You just can’t
see
your Self.

The rest of us
are here
to tell you
we see you.

You are
drop-dead
gorgeous.

(Photo by Adolfo Felix, UnSplash)

 

Leaping Fences

When I saw
two fawns,
still glistening,
still trembling,
from birth,

I wondered:

Do these
Little Ones
know they were
born able,
soon enough,
to soar over the
neighbor’s fence,
like dancers,
and dine on
azaleas?

Do they know
they won’t always
need to be
so closely
guarded by
Mama Doe?

Then
I wondered,
again:

When I
sometimes
pray,

desperate to be
closely guarded,

have I forgotten
I was
born able,
soon enough,
to leap fences?

 

The Coffee Shops of Mystery

Where do you drink
your first
cup of coffee
in the morning?

I have an idea
for you:

Consider
thinking of
that place
as one of
The Coffee Shops
of Mystery.

I can hear you
asking:
“Why would I
think of
my desk as a
Coffee Shop
of Mystery?”

Because you can.
They’re everywhere.

They contain
entire Universes
of
what makes you
gasp in awe and
liberates
your soul
to go
wander in the
galleries and
theaters and
dancehalls and
Show Boxes of
music in
the Mystery.

So, fill your
Special Cup
even if it’s paper
and just for Now.

Welcome to
The Coffee Shop
of Mystery.

(Photo by Priscilla du Preez, UnSplash)

 

Wonderland

Look at You
looking at you.
What do you see?

A work-in-progress.
A log book
annotated with
failure
to live up to
your promise
to yourself.

Wait.

That You
doing the looking,
that Self,
has never broken
a promise or
anything else.

Some morning,
soon, or
maybe
right this minute,

try moving
into your
Self.
You’ll slip
back out,
of course.
Move back in
when
you are able.

It’s a
wonderland
in there.

(Photo by Simon Berger, UnSplash)

 

Improv

Let’s start an
improv troupe,
you and I,
and see who
wants to
join us.

You’ll be you and
I’ll be me and
they’ll be them.

At the drop of
a figurative hat
we’ll start
acting.

You do
what you do,
I’ll do
what I do,
and they’ll do
what they do.

Let’s be as
imaginative as
we can be.

Do some weird,
hilarious, sad,
angry,
beautiful,
over-the-top
playful
stuff.

And we’ll
always be
open-ended.
That’s when the
good stuff
happens.

I wonder if
that’s what
we’ve already
been doing.

But I’m just
waking up.

This could
get
interesting.

(Photo by Suhendro Winarso, UnSplash)

 

Road Noise

Take your Divine Self
out for a spin.
Put the top down and
plug in your
“All You Need Is Love”
playlist.

If you listen
through headphones
and turn it up
a touch
you’ll be able to
drown out the
road noise.

You know,
the Voices and
the Noise.

The Puritan
road crew
butchering the
lyrics to
“Work for the
Night Is Coming”
while they put up
road signs
warning travellers
that they’re on
the Broad Way to
Perdition.

The intermittent
blare of
disaster sirens
being tested
in case of
spiritual emergencies
of an indeterminate
nature.

Road noise.
It’s just road noise.

Your Divine Self
has seen and heard
it all before.

You’re safe.
Crank up
the volume.

(Photo by Neonbrand, UnSplash)

 

Identity Theft

There is
an identity theft
that doesn’t threaten
your credit rating
or reveal your
Social Security
number to the
warlocks of the
Underworld.

It’s far worse.

It’s when you
believe that you
begin and end
with your
birth and death,

a blip on the
oscilloscope
of eternity,
a chart that
measures your
shortcomings
against some
standard range of
expectations for
people of your
height and weight
and advancing age.

I suggest you
change your
password
from DateOfBirth
to TheDivineMe,

and regain access
to mornings that
begin with
something delicious
dancing in your
viscera,

something that
transcends
your broken
To Do List,

something that’s
more You
than what’s trapped
in your mirror.

All you
have to do is
stop stealing
Yourself.

(Photo by Bermix Studio, UnSplash)