heaven on earth…

we feel death’s breath
more each year upon our neck
and still we deny 
and refuse to turn and face
life’s end of eternal grace

 

 

heavenly rave cancelled…

we’re rebel angels
we dance on the edges of clouds
our weekly outing
hoping not to fall to earth
things there have become
a real living hell on earth
wars and pandemics
those corrupted corporations
producing famine
have made reincarnation
an unattractive option
so we always watch our step
heaven forbid
we fall from grace and end up
back at our old place
maybe these parties should stop
i mean we’ve lived this before
so there’s no needed revivre

you’ve missed the bus…

man’s greatest madness
those delusions of grandeur
streets paved with pure gold
those seventy-two virgins
there’s no blissful ecstasy
no choir of angels singing
oh you had your chance
but you failed to realize
that the heaven sought
was the warmth of children’s hands
smiles and laughter of old friends
and sweet scents of early spring

if you’re looking for heaven…

child
listen to me
heaven
ain’t
no place 
above
the
clouds
it’s
a lover’s
warm back massage
at
the end
of
a hard day
of
labor
and
there ain’t
no
heavenly choir
that can sound
as sweet
as
those words
before sleep
whispered
by
your lover’s lips
the words
i’ll love you
forever

 

pennies from heaven…

now let me get this straight
heaven
has
streets of gold
and
one hell of a dating
service
for martyrs
so
explain to me
why
the only things
the divine
is willing
to
share
as
a blessing
upon
faithful  servants
is
some stale bread
and
pennies

beyond the city lights…

places
hidden places
places
without names
or
ways to return to
where
the smell of spring
lingers
in uncut grass
and
meadow flowers
where breathing
was
easy
and
footsteps
fell silent
on dirt roads
sounds
heard
small birds
and
a choir
in an old
country church
hymns
from voices
that
have long passed away
to
other places
also
hidden

arrival and impending arrivals….

when you’re in heaven
i’d like to get a postcard
nothing real fancy
a short note in your own hand
so i know why to behave

 

drop by today #24…

a child’s small casket
holding parents’ every dream
words of heaven fail

 

honey put your wig hat on…

now when you hear
old gabriel
blow his horn
don’t you
mess around
trying
to avoid
your
judgement day
just
spruce up
a little bit
and
don’t you have
one of your
hissy fits
won’t do
no good
so just
admit to your
good times
and
casually
mention
the bad ones
so as to
show
the folks upstairs
you ain’t no fool
and
quite willing to repent
tho the hour’s
done run late
to
make your case
for
heaven
but
as people
often say
every little bit helps

certified humane…

heaven has no gates
all angels i understand
are free range creatures