At the Church-Gate
Although I enter not,
Yet round about the spot,
Ofttimes I hover,
And near the sacred gate,
With longing eyes I wait,
Expectant of her.
The minster-bell tolls out
Above the city's rout,
And noise and humming;
They've hushed the minster-bell,
The organ 'gins to swell, --
She's coming, -- coming!
My lady comes at last,
Timid and stepping fast,
And hastening hither,
With modest eyes downcast;
She comes, -- she's here, -- she's past;
May heaven go with her!
Kneel undisturbed, fair saint,
Pour out your praise or plaint
Meekly and duly;
I will not enter there,
To sully your pure prayer,
With thoughts unruly.
But suffer me to pace
Round the forbidden place,
Lingering a minute,
Like outcast spirits who wait,
And see, through heaven's gate,
Angels within it.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Gate Keeper
each night the wonder of darkness comes
in a most revealing light of what is leaving in
the midst of light
that's the most wonderful moment to happen
every night, when closing the eyes, comes the
unsolicited phenomenon of living with other souls
in the state of life, i have seen nothing but a
pure white color of no colors, different than our
naked eyes have perceived, it’s an awesome and
beautiful as a sleep, where a moment is not
counted for a day
waking me up talking with St. Peter and listening
the past is remembering the, teaching of the church
the gate keeper of heaven
a pleasure and honor, which is done, where
breathing is passing the past of learning on how
to enter the gate of memories
the gate is beautiful made of blue pearl with a crystal
stone of granite enter locking with diamond tupaz
between each border of threaded coil of gold as the
design, galloping the entire post of two big pillars,
facing the rising ladder of infinity clouds of smoke
just a cold breezing like melted malt seducing my
skin to smell its fragrance passion of perfume in
my nostrils of incensed myrrh of immortal soul
the gate keeper dress with a simple style of
fashionable French red cloth and a slipper made
in the Marikina, standing with a poise asking
each one with a bed like soft voice, of my name
all comes likes a vision in darkness of the night
where no immortal soul have witness the gate
of the gate keeper enter the pedulum he stands,
just wait and you will see the gate keeper in
heaven......in your dream
poem by Antonio Liao
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Judgment Day
Saint Peter stood, at Heaven's gate,
All souls claims to adjudicate
Saying to some souls, 'Enter in!'
'Go to Hell,' to others, 'you are steeped in sin.'
When up from earth, with a great hubbub,
Came all the members of the Tuscarora Club.
The angel Gabriel, peering out,
Said, 'What, the devil, is this noise about?'
'Gabe,' said Peter, 'There's always lots of noise,
At any get-together of the Tuscarora boys -
Those are anglers and they all tell lies
About the trout that got away, their fierceness and their size -
They want to enter Heaven, for our brooks are full of trout,
But I won't have any liars, and I'll keep the whole gang out;
No liars enter Heaven, and I'll most distinctly tell
The whole danged Tuscarora Club, it has to go to Hell.'
Then, at a little distance from the precious pearly gate,
The Tuscarora fellows paused to talk and cogitate;
One Barr said this, one Barr said that, McAlpin had his say,
But foxy Charley Roberts said, 'This is the only way -
'You'd best leave this to me,' he said. 'Just let me handle Pete
and in a trice we'll be inside upon the golden street;
I'll show him that he's one of us, because he used to be,
Himself, a brother fisher, in the Sea of Gallilee-
And I move you, Mr. President, we make the poor old dub
An honorary member of the Tuscarora Club.'
'Agreed! Agreed!' the members cried, but Manny Barr said, 'Wait!
Amend it thus 'PROVIDED - That he didn't fish with bait.''
Saint Peter saw them coming but his face was hard and stern,
He had formed his resolution from which he would not turn,
Not even Roberts' palaver would ever change him so
He'd send the Tuscarorans anywhere, but down below.
But now upon his countenance there came a look of pain,
He stepped from foot to foot, and then from foot to foot again:
He hailed a new-come resident, who near the portal stood,
A goodly Christian gentleman, whose name was Hubert Wood.
He said to him, 'Come here, my friend, and tend awhile this gate-
Just take my place for half an hour - I've got to urinate.'
With that Saint Peter hustled off. The gate-keeper pro tem
Observed the Tuscarorans and he waved his hand at them.
'Come in! come in!' he shouted, for he was an angler, too,
And he knew that anglers, as a whole, were earth's most harmless crew.
So all the Tuscarorans got to heaven, thanks to Wood,
And the Secretary's last report says, 'Fishing there is good.'
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Heaven's Gate
Grass over my grave
So I died,
So long before you cried.
And now I wait at Heaven's gate,
Will they let me pass?
I doubt.
The things I did in my past
They now stand on my way
At Heaven's gate.
Lucifer! bare my heart,
Christ! hear my cry;
I wait at the gate
To your heart,
And they wont let me pass
poem by Efe Benjamin
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The Bell Tolls
The bell tolls not to alarm us
about a break of war
The bell tolls not to announce
the funeral of a great magician
The bell tolls not for classes
to start the school-year calendar.
But it is ringing for you and me
to bend our knees,
To intercede for our land
and for ourselves
The bell tolls to say a prayer
that opens up
avenues to God's love and mercy.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Inside Heaven Gate
I CLOSE MY EYES FOR THE FINAL TIME
LETTING MY MIND GO FREE
BECAUSE CLOUDS OF FOG SURROUNDING ME
AS I CONTINUE MY JOURNEY TO HEAVEN GATE
THROUGH A SMOKE FILL SKY OF ANGELS
FLYING AROUND
WITH THERE GLITTERING WINGS
AND THERE FRIENDLY HELLO
FLYING UP AND DOWN AND ALL AROUND
AS I MAKE MY WAY TO HEAVEN GATE
WITH MY SPIRITS THAT CAUGHT UP TO ME
AND MY PRAYERS THAT GOT ANSWER AT MY SIDE
ALONG WITH THE STARS THAT I HAVE WISH UPON
TO SEE MY LOVE ONES AGAIN
HAVE NOW COME TRUE
BECAUSE THERE GIVING ME A CHEER
SAYING GLAD YOUR HERE
INSIDE HEAVEN GATE,
poem by Bruce Martone
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When the bell tolls
At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
I know that there
is more to life
than just living.
On a Sunday
the bell tolls almost endlessly,
(like a alarm clock)
before the service begins.
At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
it rings for a funeral
and I am glad
that I’m alive.
At a wedding
the bell sings a joyful song
and everyone smiles at each other
and wait for the bride to appear.
In the dead of night
the bell tolls lonely
no one cares about
the time that it keeps,
as sleep creeps deeper
into everybody’s soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
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St. Peter At The Golden Gate
St. Peter at the Golden Gate
Explained, for me it’s much too late
That Heaven’s gate, without a doubt
Was built right there to keep me out
It’s common knowledge, I’m no Saint
But a real bad guy, I surely ain’t
Heaven knows, I’ve done some wrong
But it doesn’t mean I don’t belong
I know I’m not the most devout
But pray, St. Peter, don’t fence me out
I promise I won’t cause chagrin
To those in Heaven, all fenced in
I’ll run a casino for all to enjoy
I’ll run it as pure as an altar boy
And dear St. Peter, I give you this pledge
At Heaven’s casino, I’ll give you an edge
So you see, St. Peter, Heaven can’t wait
What’s needed in Heaven, is me, your soul mate
Do what you can to unlock the key
So together we’ll be, St. Peter and me…
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Song in a Minor Key
There's a place I know where the birds swing low,
And wayward vines go roaming,
Where the lilacs nod, and a marble god
Is pale, in scented gloaming.
And at sunset there comes a lady fair
Whose eyes are deep with yearning.
By an old, old gate does the lady wait
Her own true love's returning.
But the days go by, and the lilacs die,
And trembling birds seek cover;
Yet the lady stands, with her long white hands
Held out to greet her lover.
And it's there she'll stay till the shadowy day
A monument they grave her.
She will always wait by the same old gate, --
The gate her true love gave her.
poem by Dorothy Parker
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In Saint Gabriel's Wings
In saint gabriel's wings I fly over living waters
And all over the mountains all the way to the blue sky above
The people here on earth
Yes with Saint's Gabriel I will be in Heaven tomorrow
And I will enter the gate of heaven
And in God's above I will be because now I am dead
So don't look for me on the earth because I am not there
I am now resting in heaven forever
I shall cry in heaven
And my tears will run down from heaven
Also my spirit will be in heaven
My body is the only thing that will remain on the planet earth
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Why Can't It Just Wait?
Damn the wrinkles
And damn my hide,
I know this old mirror is
Filled with lies-
Why can't it just wait?
The hair gone gray
And rather thin,
The light in my eyes
Grows steadily dim-
Why can't it just wait?
There's things been erased
I can't recall,
Like loves first kiss
And the wild-wonder of it all-
Why can't it just wait?
Like a blizzard it's coming on
With age and wear,
Life's bitter cold wind blowing
Out there-
Why can't it just wait?
That old Reaper
Dark and grim,
I know someday
I will have to greet him-
Why can't it just wait?
One last breath
Sails to Heaven's gate,
Time to go -
It just can't wait.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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How I Wish The Bell Tolls For Me
for whom the bell tolls?
i ask that
it must toll for me,
but the bell never really
toll for me,
always, it tolls for someone else,
a friend for 15 years
a relative close to the family,
a baby newly born in town,
a man conscious of his health,
the non-smoker and non-drinker alike,
the successful politician,
the wife of an expatriate,
the rich gambler, oh, the bell tolls for all of them
and there were banquets and city lights
and eulogies
and expensive garments of the priest
i wish the bell tolls for me,
but who am i to really say?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Spaceface
she don't need no rocket ship (rocket ship rocket ship)
just close her eyes and takes a trip
baby's big on aviation (aviation aviation)
baby loves a levitation (levitation)
yes shes a spaceface going round
shes never coming down (coming down coming down)
my little spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down)
never coming down
never coming down (coming down coming down)
baby's talking to the stars
aint got time for idle wars (space space space)
and i don't worry anyway
as long as i know shes ok (shes ok)
yes shes a spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down)
my little spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down coming down)
shes a spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down)
my little spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (coming down coming down)
never coming down (coming down)
dont know what you see
i'll be there if you wait for me
i will soon be home
i'll be there if you're not alone
ah spaceface
my little spaceface
ah spaceface
never falling down
never falling down
yeah, shes a spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (never coming down)
my little spaceface floating round
shes never coming down (never coming down)
never coming down
never coming down
never coming down
she never coming down
never coming down
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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1133 Heaven On Earth
Where is Heaven is there such a place?
A place where God is real and Angels dwell
Can we find Heaven - while we're here on earth
Or does your life on Earth resemble Hell?
Heaven is all around in Nature shown
The 'Gift of God' to all who are His own.
Heaven is a clearing in the woods
A place were bluebells in profusion grow
A place of solitude qnd quietness
A place where only rabbits and the badgers go.
The Angels gather there but are unseen
Except by those who have departed from this scene.
Heaven is a stretch of sandy coast
The place where Baby Angels love to play
The murmer of the sea the gentle wind
The changing panorama of each day.
And those who have departed from this life
Can live contented there as Man & Wife.
Heaven is a mountain-side retreat
A place with lovely vistas near and far
A pace that's shaped by God's almighty hand
Which urban noise and crime can never mar.
A place for our beloved who've gone before
Where Angels hover close to Heaven's Door.
Heaven's set beside a placid lake
In which are mirrored trees and clouds above
A place of peace - serenity and joy
A place of holiness - a place of love.
Martyrs and Saints sing out to God in Praise
And with the Angels serve Him all their days.
God's gift to us - right from our day of birth
The 'Joys of Heaven' - right where we are on EARTH! ! !
(John Knight - Colchester - December 2009)
poem by John Knight
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In Saint Gabriel's Wings
In saint gabriel's wings I will fly all thre way throught the sky
But first I will past through living waters here on earth
And soon I will enter the gate of heaven
But once I am inside the gates of heaven I will be inside God's abode Forever because I will be dead
My spirit will be in heaven
But my body will remain on the planet earth
And please don't go looking for me because I will not be on the planet Earth anymore
I will cry and water the earth with my cries every time that I will cry in Heaven
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Forty Letters To A Woman – Third Letter –
You were the harpist
At the gate of heaven.
I was about crossing that gate
when we first met.
I never though,
felt, or captured your inner songs
that flew with the harp melody
until I left heaven from the other gate.
I never knew
that your were the first picture
and the last sound of heaven
until I left it.
What remains
now in
my deepest memories
an ancient question
- and that is
what I try to get rid of: -
What makes heaven
heaven?
is it a melody,
a woman's melody at the gate of heaven,
or the silent melody in a woman eyes?
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Two Husbands
Unpenitent, I grieve to state,
Two good men stood by heaven's gate,
Saint Peter coming to await.
The stopped the Keeper of the Keys,
Saying: "What suppliants are these,
Who wait me not on bended knees?
"To get my heavenly Okay
A man should have been used to pray,
Or suffered in some grievous way."
"Oh I have suffered," cried the first.
"Of wives I had the wicked worst,
Who made my life a plague accurst.
"Such martyrdom no tongue can tell;
In mercy's name it is not well
To doom me to another hell."
Saint Peter said: "I comprehend;
But tribulations have their end.
The gate is open, - go my friend."
Then said the second: "What of me?
More I deserve to pass than he,
For I've been wedded twice, you see."
Saint Peter looked at him a while,
And then he answered with a smile:
"Your application I will file.
"Yet twice in double yoke you've driven . . .
Though sinners with our Saints we leaven,
We don't take IMBECILES in heaven."
poem by Robert William Service
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The forgiven Angel
beam of light passes thru the night of frozen dust in the
mid-air, waiting to blow like a pyramid that ready to show;
a turning fashion in every road to go
black as a knight, view by many who want to surf the sky,
but nothing comes than a bright comet; beautiful seems
not easy to see, yet! behold the eyes that feel and wonder
the glory that never exist
cease the heaven gate, the feather calls like springs that
fall, power only by each wing, glorified to enter the highest
glow; the wonderful sky, is like a forbidden touch, to see
the heaven’s abode
a little split of drops of prayer the wings can pass the sky.....
poem by Antonio Liao
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Train To Heaven
(4/10/12)
It was a long wait - but soon they would
Be at that gate.
The train that would take him to heaven
To join all his family and friends
Where a new life would begin and never end.
A life where there is nothing but beauty and peace
And the heart would find relief.
The conductor showing you everything in your past life
Some bad - a lot nice.
Of people you touched along the way
And of things they had to say.
everybody when they pass away
Boards this train on a given day.
This train makes three stops
As strange as it may seem
Heaven, hell, and purgatory
"Sounds like a familiar story"!
Purgatory being the place of things
In your past life - you must face.
But you are on the "7th ave. express."
Cause you passed all the tests.
You had a heart which was pure as gold
And all the angels have been told.
All these other passengers that are on this train with you
Have gone through the same things too.
All of you had came to this "times square station"
Because you had found your salvation.
They gathered together like fallen needles from a pine tree
Multitudes of souls that were finally free.
At the gate you will be greeted by SAINT PETER
Who will show you the way to all your family and friends
And this joy will never end.
poem by Louis Rams
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To The Chapel Bell
"Lo I, the man who erst the Muse did ask
Her deepest notes to swell the Patriot's meeds,
Am now enforst a far unfitter task
For cap and gown to leave my minstrel weeds,"
For yon dull noise that tinkles on the air
Bids me lay by the lyre and go to morning prayer.
Oh how I hate the sound! it is the Knell,
That still a requiem tolls to Comfort's hour;
And loth am I, at Superstition's bell,
To quit or Morpheus or the Muses bower.
Better to lie and dose, than gape amain,
Hearing still mumbled o'er, the same eternal strain.
Thou tedious herald of more tedious prayers
Say hast thou ever summoned from his rest,
One being awakening to religious awe?
Or rous'd one pious transport in the breast?
Or rather, do not all reluctant creep
To linger out the hour, in listlessness or sleep?
I love the bell, that calls the poor to pray
Chiming from village church its chearful sound,
When the sun smiles on Labour's holy day,
And all the rustic train are gathered round,
Each deftly dizen'd in his Sunday's best
And pleas'd to hail the day of piety and rest.
Or when, dim-shadowing o'er the face of day,
The mantling mists of even-tide rise slow,
As thro' the forest gloom I wend my way,
The minster curfew's sullen roar I know;
I pause and love its solemn toll to hear,
As made by distance soft, it dies upon the ear.
Nor not to me the unfrequent midnight knell
Tolls sternly harmonizing; on mine ear
As the deep death-fraught sounds long lingering dwell
Sick to the heart of Love and Hope and Fear
Soul-jaundiced, I do loathe Life's upland steep
And with strange envy muse the dead man's dreamless sleep.
But thou, memorial of monastic gall!
What Fancy sad or lightsome hast thou given?
Thy vision-scaring sounds alone recall
The prayer that trembles on a yawn to heaven;
And this Dean's gape, and that Dean's nosal tone,
And Roman rites retain'd, tho' Roman faith be flown.
poem by Robert Southey
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The Builder
WHEN the deep cunning architect
Had the great minster planned,
They worked in faith for twice two hundred years
And reared the building grand;
War came and famine and they did not falter,
But held his line,
And filled the space divine
With carvings meet for the soul's eye;
And not alone the chantry and thereby
The snowy altar,
But in every part
They carved the minster after his own heart,
And made the humblest places fair,
Even the dimmest cloister-way and stair,
With vineyard tendrils,
With ocean-seeming shells,
With filmy weeds from sea,
With bell-flowers delicate and bells,
All done minute with excellent tracery.
Come, O my soul,
And let me build thee like the minster fair,
Deep based and large as air,
And full of hidden graces wrought
In faith and infinite thought,
Till all thy dimmest ways,
Shall gleam with little vines and fruits of praise,
So that one day
The consummate Architect
Who planned the souls that we are set to build,
May pause and say:
How curiously wrought is this!
The builder followed well My thought, My chart,
And worked for Me, not for the world's wild heart;
Here are the outward virtues true!
But see how all the inner parts are filled
With singular bliss:
Set it aside
I shall come here again at eventide.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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