Skip to main content

Man of Flesh and Bone



(Photo by Michelle, my lovely love...)

Can I, a man of flesh and bone and spirit and Love, recognize my image within my kind’s present carnage?

Shriek and howl! Screech my protests higher now! The hymn of peace be upon the eartH, Love visible through the belief in creation...

Shouldn't I long to walk in goodness? Shouldn't I strive toward the solemn directives of creation and Love? I should strive to walk in goodness. A man, yet capable of walking in warless goodness...

So how could I have ever known of such creeping deceit.

(Yet, they are my brothers and sisters eternally, nonetheless... nonetheless. I'm sorry, brother for ever having thought it was my place to question your personal belief, never having had my own. I humbly apologize.)


I have, I would imagine, known only that which was and is knowable... And then I began raging my hunger, leaving myself parasitic, turned by my greed. I chose my beast and I have fallen, fallen so far away that the garden light's been doused. I've truly lost my way. No fault, but mine own. No fault with my spirit, but with my flesh. No fault, save for hands bent upon the foul use of life and Love...

Let my scouts and lies fall away, greed, let my nagging tales of fear fall away, for peace and Love have won the day. I’ll gladly fall upon the sword of my belief if it will end this known outrage...

The Mother brings me to believe, her caress reveals my love, my duty and my goodness. Her waters swim their peace and love to me after the long journey between me and war.

If my fears will not relinquish their hold on my heart, I'll walk. I'll walk away... in goodness.



© 2011 by mark prime

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman

SKYFALL

Skyfall... We continue to play along with an unnatural game that has serious consequences, soon we'll find ourselves enslaved without recourse to the system. (Is that true of local charades?) Yes. (Why can't we free ourselves from the system?) The madness of money. (It's not money, it's people, right?) It's both, money and us in tandem, thus assuring money's might and our adherance to its loudness. (Madness...) Indeed. © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

THE ROCK HOLDS

The rock holds the soil in and from the soil springs the tree, the green of LIFE rolling from the blue, rising to the occasion of itself. . “Be!”, the (H)eartH declares, “Be what you are!” . (We thought we were!) . (We think we are!) . “You are, but not freely, therefore, only a thought, and a thought without much thinking, as if you were scared into it.”, the (H)eartH added. . [a quietude begins, the truth being heard and heeded, grooving to the flow] ~ © 2017 Mark Richard Prime