There is a Biblical parable that speaks to "splinters in the eye". Don Emmanuel asks that you join in his inner dialogue in hopes that at least one person who reads this poem will help him remove the giant log from his own.

A modern Renaissance Man, who just so happens to be an American Negro, I spent the days of my youth in the company of: [Stephen] Dobyns; Nietzsche; Rushdie; Sartre; Camus; Coelho; Gibran; and [John] Gardner.
This is my first attempt to share my work publicly; there are no publishing credits to date.

In that brief moment in time that lasts forever
the instant between
should I or shouldn't I
when you see the ninety nine cent
candy bar in the corner store and
slide it into your pocket that has
5s and 10s wadded and
wrapped around your atm check card
the question begs my attention:
If it is as bad to think about something bad as it is to do it,
then why not do it?
Put another way:
if there is no gradient for sin, a lesser offense for flipping the bird as opposed to shooting the high school quarterback with a paintball gun, per se,
then why not do both?
We've all thought about it… and we've all gotten the same demerits.
Do I get "points" when I want to do something "good"?
Like tithe or rescue kittens
and go to church and actually pay attention?
Probly not…. It doesn't work that way now does it?
Good thoughts or good intentions don't really fill the coffers…
So why not get it out of your system?
Live a little…
Hell- live a lot!
Periodically I light a few candles, fall to my knees, and ask Jesus for guidance.
I get the executive shrug.
It's not that He's disinterested-
distant-
He wants me to think it through- to decide and determine for myself.
After all, we were made in His image, so we should be able to come up with the basics.
I mean, shit, we've deconstructed the human genome…
surely we can understand morality by now…
But it's not that simple- it's not cut and dry- when it should be.
This free will shit is not a fair shake.
It's like going to an "all you can eat" Chinese buffet and
gorging yourself on:
sweet and sour chicken
wantons
anything and everything fried and crispy.
All the pork Muslims and Jews dream about,
only to find that your bill has been tallied "a la cart".
The problem isn't so much that you can't pay for it-
no no no
Got plenty of money-
it, like the proverbial apple, grows on trees
[here we are speaking spiritually]
but
I don't want to pay-
I want free.
I want stolen.
I want yours.
At this point, I'm desperate.
I need guidance.
I go ask the Devil.
Generally speaking, this is a bad idea in progress, however,
he has insights and experiences that we can only imagine, and he may
even betray himself and offer up a grain of truth.
No rituals to call him-
he's right there, behind us,
next to us, all of us,
just dying to strike up conversation and offer differing points of view-
to congratulate us on a job well done, when everybody with eyes
can see that it was mediocre at best.
"Who cares? Fuck them!" He smiles.
My Devil is a handsome Devil-
He's not at all spooky
or scary or
mean.
He's quite charming;
his mother is from Spain and his father is Italian.
His accent is intriguing and somewhat thick-
not to mention he is very much relaxed and speaks softly- so I have to listen hard- focus,
on what he is saying to make sure that I have heard everything…
[don't want to miss a word from this guy]
He is well traveled and has spectacular taste in fashion.
Nothing extravagant or gaudy- simple
classic designs and styles.
"Don Juan Diablo", he has nicknamed me-
he reminds me that he knows things and that
yes, to think it and to do it are
virtually one and the same.
He has offered, from time to time, to demonstrate through some high form of mathematics,
Calculus I think,
and show me the equations
and how these laws of relativity
are relatively equal.
No interest in that kind of stuff, I remind him.
I am a poet.
I am a philosopher.
I am a kenshi.
I am a beast.
Him too- it turns out-
"We have so much in common" he tells me-
but there is so much more… so much more…
"Why not give it a try?" he suggests-
"some of the stuff that won't land you in jail, per se,
and keep you in good standings with the community at large- and tell me what you think."
"You know, my biggest problem" he continues,
and here he confides in me- builds trust-
"I know some of the things I have done are wrong,
or at least could be misconstrued as wrong…
but it isn't pride that keeps me from asking for forgiveness
it's respect!
If I asked for forgiveness, that would be the
biggest lie ever told in the history of time.
I'm not sorry- and neither are you!"
He's pointing a finger at me, me
Don Juan Diablo,
and I nod… thinking back to some of my more iniquitous escapades
and I know that I am not sorry.
I have never been sorry, nor do I ever think I will truly be sorry-
My Devil continues- "if I could do it all over again, from the very beginning- from the time they called me the Son of the Morning Star"
he smiles at me so genuine and pure
my entire body turns
cold.
"I would do it bigger and better and faster and sooner with more!"
Yes! More! I interrupt.
With bacon and cheese I continue….
"And donuts" he adds.
"You know, they were my idea" he elbows me in the ribs-
adds a nod of knowing-
"Donuts were my idea…."