deepundergroundpoetry.com
National Association for the Advancement of the Dead
Photo: Right: Al Tyree, Left: unknown. Topeka Ks. 1950s
not A whirwind,
not A tornado,
not A blessed hurricane,
Not even a gentle sunshower.
(Just wish my little girl was here,
just to talk to)
all these other momma-poppas of
dead kids seem to make their imaginative
conduits to heaven all in place (though not especially
(imaginative at all)
for the fee-free fone-calls to their little dead ones,
24/7........
That's what i get for being some kind of terminal-thinker,
where the end is the end to the very end, where personal
"identities" no longer exist, where life just stops, & you
have to Accept it as such.
I wish I could just stare as those "precious memory" photos
and strike up a "conversation" about the wonderfulness of heaven,
sitting next to Jesus, who tells you that God said "We're saving a
place for you," right here where we're all together and perpetually happy, perpetually beyond forever (in perpetuity)
Just wish my dear Leah was here, not there.
I know that'll never be. This is a finite realm, with no fantasy exceptions,
we all must believe, whatever we need/want ( believe, to keep our Selfs warm, cozy,
and bloody comfortable, at whatever the cost, to fortify the delusion of
Life After Death.
I have to know
that it will (all) be more than just
nice.
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaa
dkozakdkozakdkozak2019 poom y pixatur originale 2019
not A whirwind,
not A tornado,
not A blessed hurricane,
Not even a gentle sunshower.
(Just wish my little girl was here,
just to talk to)
all these other momma-poppas of
dead kids seem to make their imaginative
conduits to heaven all in place (though not especially
(imaginative at all)
for the fee-free fone-calls to their little dead ones,
24/7........
That's what i get for being some kind of terminal-thinker,
where the end is the end to the very end, where personal
"identities" no longer exist, where life just stops, & you
have to Accept it as such.
I wish I could just stare as those "precious memory" photos
and strike up a "conversation" about the wonderfulness of heaven,
sitting next to Jesus, who tells you that God said "We're saving a
place for you," right here where we're all together and perpetually happy, perpetually beyond forever (in perpetuity)
Just wish my dear Leah was here, not there.
I know that'll never be. This is a finite realm, with no fantasy exceptions,
we all must believe, whatever we need/want ( believe, to keep our Selfs warm, cozy,
and bloody comfortable, at whatever the cost, to fortify the delusion of
Life After Death.
I have to know
that it will (all) be more than just
nice.
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaa
dkozakdkozakdkozak2019 poom y pixatur originale 2019
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