When I Was The Court Astrologer

 

I was in despair, but saw everybody.

It felt like driving to Los Gatos the first time.

The establishment wants no new revolutionary voices.

No urging them to sing of the people & streets.

 

Once you knew what it was like,

But not this lifetime.

I’m gone now, down in the underground

Parking lot of your love.

 

Opening the cabin door, golden light burst in––

The Hells of Nirvana in another Buddhaworld.

After cleaning out the icebox of suffering,

How can you possibly believe you are alone?

 

 

20 May 2008

 

 

[Published in Mantra Winds: Poems 2004-2010.

© 2010 by Jim Cohn.]