Live

My friend, I won’t demean you with a Should,
Nor push myself forward with a Should Not,
Nor pontificate in the garb of worn-out thought
Culled from some ancient culture or a book.
I will not make a platitude my moon,
Or speak as if I have God at my side.
Am I to say lust and love are enemies?
Am I to preach to you of love and hate,
That they are strangers who cannot relate?
I’ll tell you stories of what happened to me
With feathered words that circle away from pride,
And you will consider them, you’ll decide.
Go ahead, my friend, live with lust awhile,
And taste what lust is willing to serve you.
Maybe lust will serve but shadows and guile,
Or in the long run lend love a beautiful smile,
But it is you, above all, who must live.
Get to know hate a bit better, speak with hate.
You may find the attempt a barren land.
Or not. One day your love might be intenser love,
More authentic, not a mere star above.
Wisdom has no eyes for sinners or saints,
Shuns the timid and parrot alike.
For them it has no crown or richness to give,
But sometimes hears and attends those who live.

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