Tag Archives: Heaven
Traveling mapless backroads, I found heaven looking for me. Advertisements
One thing we cannot recover is time. Perhaps that’s what I have been trying to do. Perhaps that’s what every writer, as a fugitive stalker, as a heartsick orphan, as the fool-hero in their own movie is … Continue reading
The porchlight in one’s personal heaven is always on, solace through staid aureole for orphans wandering heartsick in the dark.
Clouds, how we graze upon the incalculable breadth of God, storm watch notwithstanding.
Feted, by an angel’s glassy hands, slow-burning river of sound, pooling white fire in rounded furls.
Wafting from afar, the intimate rumor of a divine toy, a cryptic plaything, implications in tow. A tonic and pacifier of blank rages; buoy and anti-freeze to sudden plunges into sub-zero climate. These conditions cannot be bested, but they can … Continue reading
In Godot’s waiting room, Heaven-rent, the vacancy sign had been converted into a living epitaph for people choking on bated breath: Here tomorrow, gone today.
Dylan Thomas falls from his barstool in Heaven— God, tending bar, picks him up, turns to Job—Who am I to judge?