A Good Place

It could be like childhood or a yummy piece of pie,

We imagine heaven and how life is when we die.

What we know without the answers as to if it’s joint,

It’s most of all, relief for those who have no reference point

 New Rendition 

God is not deceitful and 

it’s not his fault at all

That Adam ate an apple and 

humanity would fall

And yet there is a trick that works 

a lot like lock and key

And that is the reversal from 

Christ’s torture at the tree. 

 Caution

God is keeping me at a distance

In case I say something racist.

Like if I eat mexican food and say

“I wish I was Mexican.”

That is over the line for him,

And as it is, I have some people

I will already have to apologize to

Before they themselves 

Are tossed into the lake of fire.

 Personal Statement

If I was a doctor I would

Collect gallbladders.

I would keep them in a jar 

But sometimes put one in my hand

When I shake someone else’s hand

And say gotcha! Ha ha ha!

Like a hand buzzer but slimy.

Then I would let them keep it.

It’s not that hard to find a good doctor

But it’s not that easy to digest some things.

 This poem is a classic

I had an idea for an art sculpture

Called prayer machines,

Where there would be a mechanical process

to generate prayer requests

For complicated population combinations.

But I didn’t get into art school, 

and years after I had the idea,

My friend sent me a video

Of some other artist

Who created a colorful whirligig

“prayer machine.” Similar to my idea

But without the actual prayer requests.

Without the love and people.

Without the missing art degree.

My poems didn’t get published, either,

after twenty years of depression survival.

It makes life seem meaningless,

but maybe instead of my poems,

teachers can go find

an actual piece of crap

on the sidewalk 

from a homeless person,

and bring it into the classrooms,

and have the students worship it.

A Certain Kind of Love

A certain kind of love is when you’re stuck with those who hate you.

And if they all could question God, they’d choose to just negate you.

And they know you’d do anything to be there anyway,

So then they make that happen with the things they do and say.

A problem here, a problem there, whenever you seem happy.

They’ve studied all your feelings so they make you feel most crappy.

And yet you try to help them all until the day you die,

When they will face their shame and you can also ask God why. 

 Unfriending Zuckerberg

I lost my friends on facebook as the algorithms stole,

a lifetime's work and suffering were wasted as a whole.

We all came through with updates in the kinder early years

But monetizing changed it fast and left my pals in tears.

And since you traded all our friends to glorify your name

The angels fly above your yacht and they are chanting, “Shame.”

 Learning Your Lesson

I heard you have a question for your day at Sunday school,

And only not to ask it is what makes someone a fool.

But I know what you’re thinking so I’ll answer it right now,

And what to know is Jesus never sinned, no way no how.

And please don’t be ridiculous or say that I am odd,

Because I know your question was “Did Mary spank our God?”