Let Me Create

Let me create.


Let me be the Cesar of my life, the Marc Anthony, the Marcus Aurelius, the Rumi, the morning star

Let me walk on the waters of my troubled soul

swallowing the swords of my sharp words

aborting the stillborn mistakes of my lust

purging the sickness of my perversion

violating my morality

with the haunting of duality.


Let me fly in a sea of corpses

drinking blood for survival

stealing sweet honey from the queens

and slaughtering the royalty

so that the hive may thrive.


Let me revolt

and turn the soil for new seeds

We have been poisoned by artificial intelligence

that cloaks the evil doings of greed.

I’ve found a deeper creed than this torment,

a web of restrictions, convictions, convections and burning frictions.


I’ve polished my facets and now shine a single ray,

Let me see the eye of light

so that I may blind the hidden one.


Let me destroy what has no ground

and build a new castle in the sky,

held by the lightness of being,

by the brightness of living

in the whiteness of purity.


Let me blend all the colors onto a pinwheel,

and break your oppression

like the dervishes sought for God

when dizzied and high,

I’ve knocked on god’s door too many times,

he said he won’t allow a drunken addict to enter his house


So I created my own,

on two columns,

called it House of 1818

and lined my walls with my words

the pyramid of my life’s work

to become the tomb upon my death

when my phoenix, my Benu

will lay my golden piece

atop my highest point.


Let me be the Cesar,

and crown me with gold.

I’m fighting for my life,


burning with fire,

while the world becomes cold.


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