Posts Tagged ‘ heaven ’

Heaven for tortured souls

1960's era prison warden

1960’s era prison warden (Photo credit: andreakw)

there are no locks on the Gates
of Hell nor Jailer there
the prisoners do not remember

they are Spirits still
and Free to Dream
of other Worlds

my pops did 3 bits
and would read adult westerns
from the prison library

read happily in his cell

probably nicer than the two room shed
he shelters his 5 cats and dying dog in

but he seems happy with his channel flippin’
remote control

and they took away his food stamps for not filing

back in California I met a drifter
claimed to be a writer and carried a staff
it wasn’t as nice as mine
when first I hailed him

it took me a while to gain
his Trust
he had been evicted by the police
from his spot under the bridge again
and lost all his writings

i think he may have been stretching it
telling me he had a valise full of writing
but he told me some fine stories
one afternoon

i never saw him again

and people think
or is it? don’t think?

a man like that can be happy
have dreams?  create?

tell me, Father,
what Hell have you left behind for your Children?
what Heaven have you created for the tortured Souls?


where true wealth lies

a wise dude once said
beware not those than can kill the body
beware those that can kill the idea
but then they don’t understand

the idea does not compute in their geometry
it doesn’t fit
it has no place
they have no knowledge
of how to kill it

oh, seeing its potential
they will harness it for a while,
make their filthy stacks of lucre
but they will wither
they will die
and their wealth will be worthless
to those that have no desire of it

but the idea
The Idea
will endure
and so will we
for we know
where the true Wealth lies…

An Idea May Mean Wealth In Your Wallet^ - NARA...

An Idea May Mean Wealth In Your Wallet^ – NARA – 534155 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)




mother teresa is pushing
a shopping cart filled with
potatoes and toaster ovens
along the alley ways
of a ghetto on the outskirts
of the shining city

while saddam sits in council
with seven virgins lying naked,
their skin gleaning energy
from the Son,
beside the swimming lagoon
in a sleepy suburb,
gleaming towers in their view.

love radiates from the Center
directed outwards,
the devotion of Love’s children
directs it inwards.

the heart of the city beats
like a drummer’s orgasmic solo,
the rhythm is there
can you feel the beat?

you can’t beat the feel
of the Creator’s will
etched upon the footprints
in the wheelhouse of your mind.

Heaven is but a breath away,
do you dare to draw it in?

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