Enlightenment

A measure

of enlightenment

is one’s ability

to surrender

But .   .   .

I’m a mother fuckin

serial upender

An adversity attender

A Shadow Self contender

because I enjoy the fight.

And

it’s

probably not right.

And though

it might not

be correct

it’s what

gets me wet

gets my Soul erect

I am the architect

of my own destruction.

I believe

that

is my function

in every

-ship

I’m in.

It feels like a sin

to

find pleasure

in the tear down

or appreciate

the meltdown

or revel

in the breakdown

of one’s own illusions

casting off the delusions

I don’t mind the confusion

because it kinda gets me off.

No ideas of grandure

I’m just the hand they’re

holding onto at the time

I may

be selfish

because I wish

it was always mine

that honor is divine

sends tingles

up my spine

watching people

redesign

their lives

to be free.

And no

it’s not just me

there are legions of us

waiting

gesticulating

anticipating

the moment you awaken

when you’re no longer shaken

and can stand your ground

when that piece [peace]

you’re looking for

is finally found

underneath

all that rubble.

That’s the trouble

with enlightenment,

it doesn’t feel heaven sent,

if you’re doing it right.