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Poem

I went to heaven before my time,
In dentist’s chair through sky did climb,
And in his goodness, verve and youth
The dentist took dull pain from tooth

And when the empty clot in gum,
Said write your name and date on bum,
He must have felt my life a poem, or
Orchestra with Barenboim?

Then seven times and seven more, I 
Saw St Peter at heaven’s door, he
Handed me a fresh-rolled spliff,
Then in came Hendrix with a riff

The wind cried scary, not sublime,
And all along the watchtower’s shine
Came Ginger Baker’s rasping whine,
With riffs and drums, percussive beat

Took up the rhythm with his feet,
And Jaqueline Dupre with legs apart,
Jumped on the heavy metal cart, but
Weight of Jim and Ginger too and Dan 
And me pushed axle through


Then crew looked hard for help from me, 
He who only made the tea; I said now look… 
I am not known, my name’s not Baker 
Or Shamone, here in this place we’re 	
All the same, the dental gas…it’s plain
To blame, sugary sweets, not eat again

So listen here and worry not, about hot hell
Or heaven’s plot… neither’s there!… it’s in
Our heads, when in our youth we outran feds; 
So open book and pull chilled beer, take 
Hand of loved one…heaven’s here!


Peter Lewis Holmes    29/11/15

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