What happens in heaven?
Will I sit on a cloud?
Is walking or talking
Or jumping allowed?
Will I be on my own
Or with some of my friends?
Does it go on for ever
Or eventually end?
......
Ella Cuthbert lived with her husband John, in an age of twinkling stars;
They had a little dog named Alfie, who loved riding in pretty, swift cars.
Alfie was loved by those who knew him, as red flowers charm adorers;
And he was the darling of their street, like rainbows, crossing borders.
The Cuthberts had many interests, and on lazy days they were content,
To rove summer streets with Alfie, wondering where blue violets went!
Friends do not go out of style, as the glittery, memory stars, flash lime.
......
Veiling, barely, his dread
Beauty and its blaze,
An angel sets warm bread
and cool milk at my place.
His eyelids make the sign
Of prayer; I lower mine,
Words interleaving vision:
--Calm, calm, be ever calm!
Feel the whole weight a palm
Bears upright in profusion.
......
From ocean's wave a Wanderer came,
With visage tanned and dun:
His Mother, when he told his name,
Scarce knew her long-lost son;
So altered was his face and frame
By the ill course he had run.
There was hot fever in his blood,
And dark thoughts in his brain;
And oh! to turn his heart to good
......
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.
No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,
- The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!
......
Lost in echoes of darkened time
dampened, dithering, dazed
wet withered witches mime a dime
fearful, I’m mazed or crazed
Calling Divinity, voicebox shut
eyelids glued, nostrils stuffed
lips zipped with copper thread
eardrums worrisome waned
......
Ella Cuthbert lived with her husband John, in an age of twinkling stars;
They had a little dog named Alfie, who loved riding in pretty, swift cars.
Alfie was loved by those who knew him, as red flowers charm adorers;
And he was the darling of their street, like rainbows, crossing borders.
The Cuthberts had many interests, and on lazy days they were content,
To rove summer streets with Alfie, wondering where blue violets went!
Friends do not go out of style, as the glittery, memory stars, flash lime.
......
What do I do?
I feel like everything just keeps going wrong.
Things get worse and worse and never improve.
Every time I see the light, I can never reach it.
What do I do?
Hope is there.
Just at the edge of my fingers.
At the tip of my tongue.
It’s under my nose.
......
It feels like falling inward,
not with sound,
but with silence so heavy
it presses against your ribs.
You wake up
and something is missing.
You try to speak,
but the words won't rise.
They sit,heavy and wet,
......
Ik strekte mijn arm uit
en dacht je aan te raken,
maar het waren mijn gedachten
die me deden geloven
dat je aanwezig was.
Je naam zweefde
ergens tussen herinnering en hoop,
in de stilte van de kamer
die nog steeds jouw adem lijkt te kennen.
......