But I
need to get to Heaven
Show up with Peter and his
(Compensated) Pearly Gates
I don't need a telescope to see
all the fuck-ups left back home
he said, "A thought like that
can send you straight to hell"
I laughed, told him
he could shove his harp
exactly-
Fires burned around,
and I looked up to see him laughing
in the clouds above, his finger extended
A moment later he was next to me,
eyes sad- "Even angels need to be punished sometime"
The crack of the whip upon him
and I met eyes with Satan
"A punishment more fitting, I have for you."
I was carted into a room
and upon a throne was the silent majority
"Kneel," They commanded.
I refused to-
whip slashed through superheated air
Even angels need to be punished sometime
Even angels get sent to hell
A Katana
at your waist
A woman at your knees
what more could you desire?
Freedom, Joy, are nothing
carnage of revolution
veins splashing on cold stones
I hear the hearts of a thousand men
demanding the death of all
but one-
let them swallow you
let them become you
let them tell you who you are
Demons of Moral
who are they to tell you who to fight?
You're beyond them
above them
Show them with the flick of your wrist
and the vaguest chuckle
from the woman at your knees.
Mourning
Dove
I offer
mourning chimes
to what used to be your souls
to what remains of what once was
of the good,
of the bad,
and all that came between
I offer up mourning chimes
for that which you have become.
a touch, a caress,
you're taken away
what you used to be-
would she approve?
You are your past's future-
would she be proud of what you became?
Would she nod, pass on,
or-
would she sob,
"Is this what becomes of me?"
She dissipates into the folds
of your new present;
if she returns, you smash her down-
"I'm happy" you say
a self delusion growing
every day stronger
A year from now, looking down
you'll see the highway,
and the cars in the distance
your feet will leave the ground
but still, I'll be here
true to who I was raised to be
Struggling, true-
But not dead, like you.