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Musings of a Young Mind About Poverty & Injustice
March 25, 2017

This is a prose-poem I wrote when I was in my early 20s (around 2005) after seeing the masterpiece documentary, Hoop Dreams:

O me, o you, o world!

I just watched a documentary called Hoop Dreams, and I

watched the squalor, the dirt, the crime, the struggle

of the poor to make a life for themselves.

And I watched myself, my wealth, my cleanliness, my

struggle to allow all of us–me, you, everyone–to

make a life for ourselves. . .to celebrate life.

And I watched my tears, tears that fell because it

rained, because the ice melted, because I am sad and

happy.

O, I can’t allow it to be.

Those dirty streets and cramped homes,

The lack of opportunity, the violence and drugs

everywhere,

We can’t allow it to be.

O, I can’t allow it to be.

This gigantic house and even larger wallet.

This laziness, this ease with which I can turn my back

on the problems rather than my cheek.

I can’t allow it to be.

Let the time come where we invest not in companies

that perpetuate this system so that we can make some

money, but rather invest our hearts in a new world, a

new system that sprouts from our hearts.

Let our desires and ambitions be rooted not in the

mind, which invents all sorts of things for itself,

but rather the heart, which feels for everything, for

everyone.

I can’t allow it to be otherwise.

I am lazy, and scared, and doubtful, and imperfect.

But that doesn’t matter now, because I see it.  I see it.

I see poverty, I see injustice, I see the poverty of

my lifestyle and the injustice of it.  I see my tears

and say, “O, fall to the earth.”  I want to give away

every last drop of sadness, of melancholy, of

mysticism, of love.

I can’t allow it to be otherwise.

If I have to suffer, if I cannot sleep, if I cannot

eat, if my head aches and my heart throbs, I shall be

delighted if it means I am living what I see.

O me, O you: I don’t want happiness.  No, not

happiness.

I want bliss.  Do you know what bliss is?

It is the kiss of two treetops.

It is the pile of leaves that make love in the soil.

It is the pain of letting go

And flying,

Of opening up

And crying.

Let us give up.  I give up.

I give up what I want, what I hope for.

I’m just crying, just looking.

My only interest is that the little seed in my garden

Has enough water,

And that the vase in my heart is full of blossoms.

Let’s not say “I want there to be world peace.”

Let us instead say “I am at peace with the world.”

I think then we will be able to bridge the gap

Between what we are and what we want.

“The difference between what we do, and what we are

capable of doing, would solve the world’s problems.” Gandhi.

I am in love with myself, and with you, and with the world.

Yes, i am in love with you. . .

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