Only Dreaming

years later
long after
you died
I dreamed
of you

in the dream
you were sixteen
and altogether
beautiful

death had yet
to touch
your brow

your life force
shone out
strong
and proud

and I woke up
wondering
if I was only dreaming
or was it really you
.

No Angels

there are no angels
there are no demons
there are only survivors
the world stones its saints
as it buries the innocent
and in the end no-one
remembers their names
.

Forbidden

Take a picture of this
We were holding hands
We had heavy heads
And happy hearts
We were stoned
In the regular variety
We rushed to the shore
The sea lapped at our feet
The wind tugged at our hair
We were immortal then
We were cleansed
Spotless as in infancy
The world had yet to find us
To bind us to convention
And condemn us - all three
For the  love we shared
.

Sixteen

there were days
when we lived
as if we’d never die
days we were
perfected
among the race
because our love
was the first love
to ever reach
those heights
but we were sixteen
and did not know
that time was a thief
who’d steal our love
and leave us naught
but our memories
.

Missionaries

.

It was a glorious summer’s day and I was pleasantly stoned. Two young missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints knocked on my door. I must have been pretty high because instead of palming them off with the usual spiel about my being an atheist I let them in. It was a hot day so I served them some cold lemonade.

We discussed the bible and Jesus Christ. They told me about Joseph Smith and Brigham Young and they gave me a Book of Mormon, so I thanked them. We even prayed together – though I did so with a certain amount of mirth. I talked and talked about Christ, Buddha and Krishna – mostly I just talked until they could not wait to leave. They informed me that they must be making tracks. I looked doubtful and said:

“Are you sure?”

“Yes” they replied

“That acid I gave you ought to be kicking in about now.” I informed them.

The blood drained from their faces as they reeled from the shock. They unravelled from smug satisfaction into deep consternation before my eyes. I laughed and shook my head.

“I’m only kidding. I wouldn’t do that to you guys.”

They seemed unconvinced and left rapidly - still in a state of shock. To this day No Mormon missionaries have knocked on my door since. I see them coming down the street going door to door, but they skip past mine. I think I’m on that database of theirs as doomed – an instrument of Satan.

.