Sunday, April 17, 2011

Heaven


With prehensile cognizance
I read the obituaries
And I saw my picture but
Didn't like the look on my face.

I didn't like the way that my eyes
Were squinting in the light,
Or the shirt that I was wearing,
The fact that I had conformed to a complicated life.

I was taught to be sensible
And nothing that I ever did would
Be considered sensible,
I was a rolling stone.

I didn't believe in god,
Slept in all day
Found beauty in the cracks
Laughed at silly liturgy.

I was on everyone's prayer list
I hated the smell of success
Voted for the rights of my brothers
A social outcast.

There was a crowd outside Green Street
At the mortuary and another across the way
With Guinness and bangers and mash and smiles
And I hoped to be there instead.

This must be heaven.

16 comments:

  1. this is TRUE poetry from a TRUE artist :)
    really enjoyed the read!

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  2. I loved this. :-)

    "I didn't believe in god,
    Slept in all day
    Found beauty in the cracks
    Laughed at silly liturgy."

    Nice writing!

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  3. ha...yeah i would rather be across the street...speak it man, this is tight...

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  4. Really like this. A view that we might all hold true when it comes to our own death.

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  5. Yes sir, thou art good! (takes a bow) :)

    http://lynnaima.wordpress.com/2011/04/14/in-remission/

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  6. You gave me reason to giggle. I like it.

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  7. Good to know you're in heaven :)

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  8. on everyones prayer list? haha! i like this! saves me time to pray lol.. my potluck.. http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2010/02/22/springtide/

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  9. wonderful read!
    thank you!

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  10. Love this rebel "rolling stone" who's found his way to his own special brand of heaven!

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  11. Oh, count me in on the bangers and mash! I had that in Dundee with a couple pints and was in.... HEAVEN, no pun intended at first. :)

    Hope they use a flattering photo of me too in my obit. Maybe I'll choose it now. :) But fully intending on hanging around at least another 50 years!! At least. :)

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  12. Yes! Let's ALL go across the street! Love this poem.

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