Skip to main content

We Need a Peace Platform for All Voices


We need a peace platform for all voices.

A peaceful conversation on Love, in Love and with respect of all things throughout Love.

Let me begin with yesterday, cold wind snapped, took a walk in my mind to the center of Love and found her there. She was sad, eyes of wounds, tears of longing. I asked her if she could ever forgive me. Her maybe was not the answer, it was the truth, what I do with it is up to me. Banjo jump in and rock me hillbilly sideways. I need to come up for air! Been down there too long, time to refresh my memory, ask to be forgiven, breathe my love into her lungs and watch her expression rise beyond man’s sickness, illness that’s crept into Love and held her under like an unjust master. Her suffering is visible. Her eternity spills out onto the streets. I might deliver it to them in the form of an amazing story of Creation’s will and man’s choice. It started out like a scream, my search for answers to the things we need not know, it trembled the beams of man’s love, shook the foundation of where we began to grow, sorrowful swallows reaching down their glee, too small to reach our ears, and too much to comprehend.

My veins are the symphony that plays for me, but they are composed of you and you and you and you. Be good. Be Love. Be righteous. Be.


© 2011 by mark prime


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

........•SHRIEKING MACHINE•........                  •HEAD-LINES•                           •RIP•     ---(“Russian missiles blast Ukrainian military academy and hospital, killing more than 50, officials say”)---    There are no more lessons to learn here, no more beds to hold the human wounded, just missile’s shrieking their grotesque ode, The Death of Humankind! RIP, children of God…    ---(“Hundreds attend Mercer Island vigil, march for murdered Israeli hostages”)---    Dear mourners, this is the brutal vacuum of a genocidal, terror-filled, indiscriminate war-machine made of fear and we are all hostages to its deafening roar! RIP, children of God…    ---(“10-year-old allegedly confesses to fatally shooting 82-year-old man and his daughter”)---    I must confess, this is part of war’s shrieking, children lost with a we...
Post a Comment
read the poem

FAULT METER

FAULT METER    When you get a question wrong you will hear three loud beeps followed by an even louder ticking of a clock.    (Like tick-tick-tick-tick-tick?)    You are half right.    (Like tock-tock-tock-tock-tock?)    You got two halves of it.    (Then I give up!)    You do?    (It ain’t out of weakness, it’s my adhdad.) I understand.    (You understand what?)    That it’s not out of any weakness on your part.    (Weakness, on my part in what?)    Never mind, it’s definitely adhdad.     •    We float, we fly, we soar! We find our wings in each other. We find friends, cousins of the one seed of existence. An existence which never began, but always was, that loves us enough to provide life’s needs, our own, the same. A collection of living peacekeepers upon the surface of the most heavenly example known to them. • © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem

Per Plex Ed

            PER+PLEX-ED When you haven’t heard the truth in so long, when you do, it rings a most familiar s ong. That’s the human song, the truth rolling out exactly when it should.      (If a truth is told and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound only to the one that spoke it?)    Yes, but our ears aren’t strong enough to hear it.     [a perplexed silence] © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem