Burning man burning

9/5/2023

Burning man burning

“You remembered what that famous poet said?

Poetry is ashes from life well burnt”.

I can almost smell,

the dust, smoke, body fluid and odor, watermelon flavor weed,

Like an elated warrior from battlefield,

Or an enlightened monk from nirvana,

He just returned from a week long earthly ceremony, burning a man or men or us?

I am a little jealous, but envy is just a twisted form of desire,

Every follicle speaks confidence and charm,

Oh no, not those, it is freedom, emancipated from the mind prison of us ordinary people.

He talks about lights turned into wings, colors distorted into ghosts,

And cries, like never before, under the blue full moon,

Required, by the body releasing itself, surrendering to the presence.

He got a new tattoo, it is a butterfly, who only remembers,

The feeling of being a caterpillar, but not being one.

What we, call, past life karma, you call metamorphosis.

“So why don’t you go?” He looked up, dreamy eyes.

“Oh, I am…. I …. I mean…. Erhhh…. The shower, tooth brushing, porter party…”

“Are you hearing yourself?”

We both laughed, giggles piled into a fireball.