I Am, Therefore...

Such a lonely word, Latin for "I", Ego,
made to carry old philosophies like a Greek slave;
needled for braggadoccio by English farm boys;
Forced to ride a German horse by a mad Austrian surgeon
that turned out wild and uncontrollable;
then told by his pupils to do backflip dances
they called suppression, projection, castration maneuvers...
And now it wears a golden Eastern robe
lent it by some hipsters as enticement
to play with a distant Aryan cousin, the false self.

Those Asians know how anytime the I comes out
it's like taking your sister with you on a date,
But they also know that this is what we Westerners must do now:
marry the lessons of the two traditions,
In our infantile spirituality, our desperation for peace,
and it's serious, this business of watching the mind
As it falls from the skies to the sewers
in channels shaped by Earth's limitations—
It hurts to know that all that comes goes
bringing suffering in its wake
Yet this the far sages of the East don't get
our self-flagellation at the salad bar:

deciding when discernment turns to judgment,
individuality to narcissism,
survival to limitation,
care for others to domination.

So many demon motivations to question
as we try to wring off the negative
With our Western spin, the tangled mind weaving
narrow paths
While Buddhas laugh how great it is to know
there will be peace a million lives from now,
so glad there is a blueprint at last for truth:

Everything must go—

It's all crazy, this world, what we see, what we think, what we imagine
Who knew how much easier nothingness would be
than holding on: to the sleek missiles, the microbrews,
the place in heaven for those who know
they know not what they do...

With ego left holding the bag:
as it tries to decide if it's Godhead or worm
When in between these two extremes
are only the tides of cognition
pulling in and surrendering,
Recreating with mind what senses perceive
then asking for something different...

As consciousness threads through to the one,
we soak in a bliss of separation
Making up explanations as we go along
while our choices make the system conform
in ways we never see
...how we're never really wrong.

Poor ego, a little word
that packed on its innocent trunks
a suit that doesn't fit
—In this culture where nakedness is praised
no one sees what it is, what it can do
with nothing.