Eternity is for the Spirit...

The day drifted out to your crooning sea, the night wafted in like a dancer with echoes of spirit playing at her feet and we loved.

This goes on forever.

We need remind ourselves, that if we don’t remember the past, the dawn of man, we will not live to see that where we were was eternal. Time without end since we oozed from the primordial soil and greeted our rebirth, our soul’s Love protecting all that should be cherished.

Humankind is in full panic, obsessed with toxic things that attempt to destroy civilization with mankind erased from the spirit’s eternal memory. What did they ever have to say for her? What have you or I ever done that gave true honor to the kingdom of eternal life, destroy the most incredible gift known in the universe, the eartH? Please, won’t you stop? Listen to the sea wail the gift of life, water lapping at her shores, begging to be released from the death throes of man. We must chart a new course, not one that is stale from use, but one that includes belief. Banjo jumps in. Dance, stomp, jump and Love, and you will see your belief rear its head. Eternity is for the spirit, not the loveless greed of flesh, empty stomach, sadness, murder, war. When are we going to notice her reaction, gauge her skin with precision- quiver? When might we see that Love calls to us, that her affections swimming through all thought and everything loved with equality? When?

This goes on forever.

The night is wearing the crooning water as slippers for when they paced in sheer nervousness at their fate, the night wafted in like a dancer with spirit playing at her feet and we loved… evermore.

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

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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

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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

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CONFESSION ZERO

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