Faith To Believe In

“Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.”

—   Henry Miller

IN A 1000 YEARS by R.M. Engelhardt

Rusty Truck

In a thousand years
Time shall
Change you
Into a small animal
Who shall be eaten
By a larger animal
That a thousand years
Before his birth
Was the unwashed homeless guy
That you with your
Money, car and 3 piece
Suit ignored walking past
The corner of Church & 7th
Street as you drank your
Starbuck’s Cafe Latte as he
Asked if you could spare
25 cents so he could buy a
Cheaper cup of coffee
3 blocks away at the convenience
Store in a shitty, crappy urban
Neighborhood

And just like when
You responded to his
Plea a thousand years before
He shall quietly
And without words
Simply respond back
By slightly
Shaking his head
And attempting to
Dislodge an annoying piece
Of meat

From his
Teeth

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