'Angels in 3 pieces, plus'

'angels don't always fly' timothy r gates, 8/13/2009

angels don't always
fly
do they die?
I bet they,
sometimes, feel they could say,
'bye, bye.'
angels don't always
fly
do they sigh?
I bet they,
at times, feel they could say,
'oh shit, you didn't fry?
Angels don't always
fly
do they lie?
I bet they,
sometimes, feel they could say,
'genesis, perhaps a better try?'
Angels don't always
fly
their feathers drenched,
too heavy to spread,
not ready to drip dry –
Angles don't always
fly
when they
cry.

'angel's empathy' timothy r gates, 8/20/2009

looking down
from beneath
looking up
from above
ethereal footstool
terrestrial gallery
like Icarus' desire,
the surreal is too real
Messengers wanting to
cry out,
'They're merely children!'
their Master looks away,
voyeurs
must honor free will.
Angels' heartless hearts
reeling,
'What of their free will?'
sympathy, from the ignorant
empathy, from the fallen
dancing a dervish
singing Rachel's song,
the little ones' of peace
skim their stones
across ponds
while walking on them.


'Angels fall; Angels true' timothy r gates, 3/11/2008

angels fall:
some are said to fall,
some are told they've fallen,
some don't know why they've not fallen;
some simply weep, praying for redemption
-not their own, but ours,
us who do not weep,
who've never fallen,
who've claimed all for themselves,
unable to see the blood-stained tears.
angels, swift to aid,
not seen, save by
children
those well aged
those of slower, so to speak, minds
those of warm hearts
those whose pain hasn't killed them
and,
those who dare to behold Beauty,
not giving a damn or blessed
whether angels are real or illusions,
only that they are true.
Falling,
I prayed for success,
an angel who knew my tears, flew
-my unsaid words for rescue,
on this messenger's wings landed.
vicarious,
like children
those well aged
those of slower, so to speak, minds
those of warm hearts
those whose pain hasn't killed them
and,
those who dare to behold Beauty.
angels fall
taking flight, again
when our need surpasses our greed,
and they're not able to weep any longer.

'Wizardry' or 'Paschal Dance' timothy r gates, 04/02/2010

wizards and imps
fairies and gnomes
the green man whispers
the moon lady sways in the mist
skip to their tunes
twirl till you fall
roll down a hill
dimples deeper than hell
grins wider than hate
grimaces baptized by the sun
smiles unable to be softened
jump into a big pile of leaves
then, just for fun,
do it again
wizardry loves redundancy.