Preacher, don't send me
when I die
to some big ghetto
in the sky
...
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I'd call a place pure paradise where families are loyal and strangers are nice, where the music is jazz and the season is fall... no need to send the corpse of wise poet to the dark doom where every creature will attack it and make it their livelihood; so reserve it to respect and remember it with honor timely....humanitarian soul needs to stay in royal palace after earthly death! ! Promise me that or nothing at all.
I'd call a place pure paradise where families are loyal and strangers are nice, where the music is jazz....... .A place is paradise only if there is love, music, dance and peace........10
Another delightful work by the great Maya Angelou. America lost a treasure when she passed away a few years ago. But, her words continue on and on....
Superb! It is so good to read specially when Fall is about to start. What paradise could compete with Fall on Earth.
I'd call a place pure paradise where families are loyal and strangers are nice,
Maya Angelou is being realistic here. She does not want the or the heaven of the preacher. She wants a realistic one and this is seen throughout the poem.
I'd call a place pure paradise where families are loyal and strangers are nice, where the music is jazz and the season is fall. Promise me that or nothing at all......the inscription of paradise is impressively done here. It is one of the best poem of Maya Angelou.
Prayers before death! For a simple burial. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
My mother was good at expressing herself. Hmmm....i need that DNA test done PH. Lovely. Thats what i am saying. Do good to all Gods children while you are here on earth. Dont worry about Heaven or its nemesis..when you get there you will find out. Thanks my nice nice mummy
Preacher, don't send me when I die to some big ghetto in the sky Ghetto. the experience on the earth makes the poetess to write this. tony
OH, and also, Why does everyone have to be so negative these days? (Rhetorical)
Preacher, please don't promise me streets of gold This particular part made me think she was mentioning Heaven, the REAL, heaven. In loving memory of Maya Angelou
I'd call a place pure paradise where families are loyal and strangers are nice, where the music is jazz and the season is fall. wow, nice poem.
A nice factual portrayal of what being religious should be
poet Maya Angelou #1 on top 500 poets Poet's PagePoemsQuotesCommentsStatsE-BooksBiographyVideosShare on FacebookShare on Twitter Poems by Maya Angelou: 28 / 53 « prev. poem next poem » Preacher, Don't Send Me - Poem by Maya Angelou Preacher, don't send me when I die to some big ghetto in the sky where rats eat cats of the leopard type and Sunday brunch is grits and tripe. I've known those rats I've seen them kill and grits I've had would make a hill, or maybe a mountain, so what I need from you on Sunday is a different creed. Preacher, please don't promise me streets of gold and milk for free. I stopped all milk at four years old and once I'm dead I won't need gold. I'd call a place pure paradise where families are loyal and strangers are nice, where the music is jazz and the season is fall. wow, nice poem.
I'd call a place pure paradise where families are loyal and strangers are nice, where the music is jazz and the season is fall. Promise me that or nothing at all. A great write.
Preacher, please don't promise me streets of gold and milk for free. I stopped all milk at four years old and once I'm dead I won't need gold. What a poem based on naked truth of life and society.
'I'd call a place pure paradise where families are loyal and strangers are nice' - so simple a want, but truly difficult to find nowadays!