I See You in the Chapel Where We Wed (for Tati)

I see you in the chapel where we wed.

The witnesses were few, but nonetheless

I never doubted God was There to bless

Our union as our vows we softly said.

No photographs have we, but in my head

You sparkle in your silken bridal dress

Invitingly, awaiting my caress. 

I see you in the chapel where we wed.

Your mother gently wept, and yet, she smiled

While listening to Father's solemn words

That would unite us both forevermore. 

And Papa knew that now his youngest child

Had left the nest, like all his other birds.

But now you're mine to cherish and adore.

Don't Be Evil

The old man slumped back in his bed
And looked at me with eyes of lead.
I knew that he would soon be dead.
The words he spoke stayed in my head.

"Don't be evil," he advised me.
"God, who loved, has now despised me.
"Of my fate the priests apprised me.
"The truth, I fear, has not surprised me."

He then recounted, without boast
How little he gave, yet took the most.
With bitter grin he said, "I'll roast
"The moment I give up the ghost."

"Whether you live to be very old
"Your sins come back a thousandfold.
"Believe the stories you've been told.
"You'll bear the heat if your heart is cold."

His eyes were open when he died.
I think that then his spirit cried
One final time for bliss denied
As I stood, useless, by his side.

In all those years, I've often thought
Of that stern lesson that he taught
A younger man, who may have sought
A different path than the one he ought.

Copyright February 17, 2012 by Allan M. Heller

Optional additional stanza:

But since the old man did repent
Then maybe he did circumvent
Eternity in Hades spent
And guarantee his soul's ascent.

Because I'm Worth It

Because I'm worth it I will strive
To prolong the time that I'm alive.
And even though I may despise
That early morning exercise
Each day I'll spend a half an hour
Increasing strength and muscle power.

As part of my conditioning
I'll stop devouring everything
In sight, and say "no" to dessert.
No more buttons will pop off my shirt.
My gut will shrink and then, who knows?
I might be able to touch my toes.

I'll wear my seat belt in the car
Whether I'm travelling near or far.
I will not drink nor chat nor text.
By traffic jams I won't be vexed.
Road rage I won't allow to linger.
Nor will I honk, nor flip the finger. 

At all endeavors I will excel
Or at the very least, do well.
Quite confident I've now become
To toot my horn and beat my drum.
And even if I seem conceited
I'd rather that than be defeated.

My spiritual side I won't ignore.
Conceit aside, I will deplore
The sinful acts of the reprobate
But him or her I will not hate.
Each night I'll lie down healed and whole
And pray for my immortal soul.

Because I'm worth it. 

Copyright February 16, 2012 by Allan M. Heller

Another Haiku

Husband hurries home
Where winsome wife is waiting
Holding striped cat.

Copyright February 14, 2014 by Allan M. Heller

11 Haiku

Head pounds, stomach churns
In a panoply of pain
Suddenly subsides

Mundane mementos
Her broach, her old umbrella
Exude remembrance

What's the solution
For accumulated junk?
Curio cabinets

Condensing the soul
To 17 syllables
Again and again

Brain issues orders
To the legs, fraught with frailty
Who cannot obey

Single word blossoms
Successive syntaxes sprout
A meadow of verse

Red light reverie
Banished in a blink of green
Angry horn honking

Waiting by window
Each day an eternity
A tumbling hourglass

Feet firmly planted
Awaiting the tide's cool kiss
Never satisfied

Cold fingers fumbling
Car keys leap out of my hand
Clank on cold asphalt

Harmless little match
Stealthily striking sulfur
Conjures perdition.

Copyright February 10, 2012 by Allan M. Heller

Doomsday Prophets

Stridently have prophets clamored
Through the ages, much enamored
Of the end of all Creation
As foretold in Revelation.

Scientists, while less religious
Preach destruction as prodigious
From chaotic cosmic forces
Not four strangers riding horses.

Others who ignore the pulpit
Think the sun a likely culprit.
Sudden spurts of conflagration
Spelling earth's annihilation.

And environmentalism
Cites climatic cataclysm
Greenhouse gases slowly forming
Icecaps melt from global warming.

Horror films might prove prophetic.
Hungry ghouls hyperkinetic
First devour the population
Then commit self-immolation.

What's the point catastrophizing?
Every theory’s mere surmising.
Hopefully it’s quick and quiet
Not preceded by a riot.

Copyright Allan M. Heller

Leaving Iraq

We razed a bleak stone fortress
Which stood for decades like a giant keep
Yet crumbled like limestone against our righteous onslaught.
From the tumbling walls poured hordes of rats
Nipping at our ankles as the fled.
But concealed in the scurrying throng were occasional vipers
Whose filthy fangs found home.

We looked for the evil king
And his arms of Armageddon
But we caught a naughty jester hiding in a hole
And they hanged him instead.

We plodded homeward a decade later
With our weapons of mass destruction
"Righteous" weapons of mass destruction
And left life and limb behind
In the saturated sand.
The duly-appointed, democratically-elected 
Members of this new order
Raised their hands in a farewell salute.

Was it a mirage as
The impregnable walls, this time really made of granite
The towering spires glittering in the sunlight
The bulging cupolas brazenly flashing their gilded splendor
Suddenly seemed to change.
With a final glance we noticed
That this newly-built bastion of freedom
Swayed in the deathly desert stillness
Like a house of cards.

Copyright January 5, 2012 by Allan M. Heller

Nickels & Dimes

Much of the fortune that Father amassed
He gleefully squandered before he passed.
But his lack of foresight was not complete:
With two types of coins his house was replete.

Nickels and dimes, nickels and dimes
They have sustained me through difficult times.

Barrels and barrels of five and ten cent
Coins he collected, while pennies he spent.
Of quarters and half dollars too he'd divest
So nickels and dimes comprised his bequest.

Nickels and dimes, nickels and dimes
Help assuage my fears when inflation climbs.  

He depleted funds that were set aside
For my education, but when he died
Revealed in his will was his secret stash
Of his handily-hoarded, cold, hard cash.

Nickels and dimes, nickels and dimes
Not very easy to squeeze into rhymes.

Women and whiskey were Father's chief sins.
He gambled as well, with very few wins.
There was nearly nil in his bank account
But of spare change at home, a great amount.

Nickels and dimes, nickels and dimes
They go together like lemons and limes.

Copyright November 5, 2011 by Allan M. Heller

A Crisp Twenty Dollar Bill

You want to hold it up against the light
To verify its authenticity
So perfectly pristine a note just might
Be the result of some duplicity.
You crumple it a little lest you miss
Another one stuck firmly underneath.
Then satisfied, suspicions you dismiss
And wonder if you ever will bequeath
This flawless note, intended to be spent
But properly invested, might just turn
Into a fifty, or at ten percent
In ten years, twenty dollars more you'll earn.
But with these current rates, you deem it best
To stuff it in your drawer with all the rest.

Copyright March 17, 2012 by Allan M. Heller