but you close your eyes…

but you close your eyes...

everybody knows
there ain’t no equal justice
those with money
use the law for protection
those without serious cash
are who they’re protected from
the law is mostly
a contract with the wealthy
to protect and serve
their personal needs and wants
while offering to the poor
a convoluted promise
like the biblical ones
where heaven’s a real reward
so too is justice
set forth as attainable
though neither one of the two
has ever been proven true

the cat…

the cat

first of all
i should note
that
the cat
never seemed
to
trust me
so
when i would bring
my old friend home
from
a concert
for
he could
no longer drive
at night
i couldn’t help
but
note
that
as i helped my friend
to the door
i could see
eyes peering
at me
from the darkness
it was
the cat
and
the cat
would only enter
the doorway
after i
had left
the immediate area
now
i’m not a believer
in souls
and
such
but
i must admit
the cat
seemed to be
linked to
the old man’s soul
and
as evidence
one night
the cat did not
appear
days went by
and
still no cat
neighbors searched
as
did i
but still
no cat
i presume
the coyotes
finally got
the cat
a natural process
but
none the less
sad
oh
now for the evidence
without the cat
the old man
seemed to quickly fade
becoming more
dependent
upon others
as if
he’d lost
one
of his lives
the cat
never
appeared
and
the old man
disappeared
into
heaven’s ether
i
presume

heavenly rave cancelled…

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…

you've missted 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…

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…

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…

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