IMMOLATION--last 2 lines changed

a tourist bus
full of chattering
picture taking

Look ahead theres the gates of heaven
Oh this road of gold is so smooth
"Its the air ride" says one
looking proper and dignified
"Of course" says I
"Yes it rides like its on wings" says
another kind lady

"Keep your expiration tickets ladies and gents"
The driver is so patient with us and cheerful
the clouds have been wonderful along the
way and angels waved at us playing their
harps and sipping Capucillos

we are to be cleansed in the fire first
like medical instruments
we are instruments we are told
of the finest stuff
handcrafted by the master
I look for satan and his black velvet
bag come to steal us like silverware
but hes busy arguing with some
poet over there whose burning his
expiration card in protest
Oh satan you will be there awhile...
I wonder
Did I remember to wind my clock??

I remember the humourists of old that I read
when I had some time to read from our little
library up at the next town..cycle all that way
on the ten speed and lug all the books back
up and down hills to home..

Humour proper unlike my sarcasm that I picked
up along the sideroutes in life is sacred
I enjoyed writing my comment to your poem
I am glad you enjoyed this Joe!

Thank You

her hubby, my sis and bros in law
my bros and I..we got sunburned and hung over
and then took a trip on a brand new chinese
tour bus with a man driving and a woman guide
both shy nice islanders..on the bus were some young
and old people..my bros got sitting with an old white
haired woman who chattered nonstop to him
His favourite thing!! ha ha ha
she was okay...but way up on this treacherous road
with a five hundred foot drop it seemed we swung around
and corner and just narrowly missed a head on with this
beat up old island dump truck hurtling along as fast as
we were going there was not even time for the men to
honk or the women or men to scream!!!! Swoosh and
we just missed.....a crap your pants after moment

everyone was quiet as we made our way down into Kingston
and moms hubby bought the driver and tour guide woman
dinner from the Burger King... kind of a thanks for not
colliding and sending us all crashing in a tangled heap
into the jungle we could have though...could have crashed
head on No Burger King moment at all..maybe crispy critters..
I still remember that! more then the colour of the ocean
or the fun times

I enjoyed the tone of this. Only one suggestion :S-3.L-1 try demons that stalk (or haunt) me. the ol' less is more thing ..........stan

I like the poem, I sense the feel of it and shudder.
I wonder how I would feel in your situation,
we have imagination and have endured pain,
pain that we couldn't bear. When the Dr. asked what it was like,
how could we explain?

Each has their own private pain threshold
and understanding of it, one's own language at all,
and to describe it is impossible. I could use tangible things
like the medieval ball of iron with its spikes all round,
going round and round and round non stop.

And when the surgeon who removed it came round,
I got him to draw it, it was as big as an orange and had
tissues joining it all round.
So the form I could describe, but the pain, no!
It wasn't malignant, 1970.

But we know and as I say with our imaginations we
can feel the power of its debilitation of faculties
both mental and physical.

Anni