Poetry for Peace. Day Eight. Poem Eight. Finding Heaven

I'm writing one poem a day for a year. Why? Best answer I can give is, why not? Beats the hell out of doing drugs or killing people. Let's face it, if everybody was doing it there would be no war. No-one would have the time. They'd all be too preoccupied trying to find rhymes for "AK47" or "Cruise Missile" or some such thing. Poetry is the antidote to war.

Finding Heaven

by Steve Cook

A glass of wine,
Alone with you and
A little of the TV
After a long day.
You smile
As you listen
To my half-assed opinions
With quiet wisdom.
This is paradise to me
And I look no further
To find heaven.
Some say this world is hell,
Others, Nirvana.
Somehow it’s both
And neither.
And you ask: "Which is it?"
To which the answer is:
“Depends who’s asking.”
Then you say:
"Where is it?"
Better to ask: "Who's looking?"

click the piuc

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