As in a tasty mix of talk

Friday, November 13, 2009


There are no plastic bottles in heaven.
No big pharmacy moguls who smoke cigars
As they sell poison on prime time TV, only
A few snake oil salesman whom God
Has forgiven because they were kind to
The horses that pulled their wagons.

There are no artificial smiles in heaven,
No artificial hormones, no artificial anything.
No one needs artificial sweetener there,
Because it is sweet to remember even the
Hard times on earth, those contrasts that make
Joys more joyous, kisses more passionate, and the
Wins more descriptive of the losses.

God doesn’t sit on a throne in heaven, unless
Someone wants him to. He is just as likely
To hang with the blues musicians at
Club Habit, and plays a mean jazz sax all by
Himself, the harmonica, too, when He is
Bored with that big, golden harp.

And there is no money in heaven, not one dime,
Nothing to accumulate into a greedy mass
That drives needy men crazy and makes them
Sacrifice their earthly goods by polluting the
Air we all must breathe, the water we all must
Drink, and the food we all must eat. Greed is
Analogous to the cancer it creates, in that
It hates turning back, once it has done its damage
And has a taste for it.

And Heaven is not a floor on the department store
Of life, it is the larger sphere in the center of
Imagination, the light that guides us through the
Dark, pointing out the stars and the warm, deep
Softness of the night, it is the ying before the
Yang, and then the ying again, turning in a lovely
Pirouette of life and love and the treasures of


Anonymous NikkiS said...

I am not sure how to comment Yak Pate...I am still deep in thought on your lovely words and their meaning...your poem makes me think the saying, "Home is Where the Heart Is" should be corrected to "Heaven is Where the Heart Is"...but I am not sure why...just the first thought that came out of my head...

10:42 AM

Blogger Kelly Curry said...


10:59 AM

Blogger Laurie said...

I can never properly articulate what your poetry makes me feel. Whatever it is, it's something that must have come from the heaven you describe.

THis is heartbreaking and beautiful, Yak. I love you and I love your angelic poet soul.

4:44 PM

Blogger Yakpate said...

Thank you for reading this poem, and allowing yourselves to feel how much I love life, and how much YOUR love inspires me. :–)

8:24 PM

Blogger Dixie Jane said...

Pat, your poem makes me feel so glorious and inadequate at the same time. I love the Heaven you describe and the God in charge. May you know how much I love loving you and being a part of your life and poetry. Thanks for giving me a new lease on life as I contemplate going to bed.

9:49 PM

Blogger Gladgrower said...

So lovely - thank you <3

10:17 PM

Anonymous Heather said...

Stupid human incarnations, all these damn Earthly temptations. No wonder babies scream after their first breath. They're thinking, 'Dammit, they sent me back HERE? Again?' heh heh

You're such an amazing writer! I'm with Laurie, I have a hard time articulating my responses. You leave me speechless with your talent! :o)

10:24 AM

Blogger Judy Williams said...

I agree about feeling inadequate. I feel inept and almost light headed. Your beautiful heaven-sent poem is touching me, touching my heart.


12:47 PM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I fancy your take on snake oil salesman and greedy developers (insert profession here). I hope I don't run into Donald Trump in heaven and I too would like to see the received compliment have much more power on us then the hurtful moments.

12:09 PM

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