Showing posts from December 4, 2011

Yes. Where have you been?

What do I think of that? To Love and respect? To cherish evermore?

Enough questions!

There you stand with your feet firmly on the ground, howling to mother that she might sense your hemorrhage! Howling dear father! Wail your misery! Pound your storm! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Your bride is bleeding out.

Better I relinquish my sword and begin to design my heaven from the things of Love.

And remember; never underestimate Her power and His will.

Pretty strong. The weight of it tires me of Love.

It’s harder to Love than it is to hate, she said.

We are on the same wheel, next to one another.

Yes. Where have you been?

What do you mean?

Enough questions!

© 2011 by mark prime

I Am On My Way Back

I’m on my way!
I can’t hold back the flood much longer, Great Grandmother.
There are children dying of hunger, Grandmother.
Their ribs speak pantries full of my apathy, Mother.
Their eyes speak libraries of my fear, Great Grandfather.

My greed's been left to fester and paint the self-portrait of my demise. They, these dying children, are waiting on me to rise up and feed them! Shall I wait longer? Can I actually allow another day to pass before I speak my mind, before I shake the foundations of apathy and flood the world with Love?

I'm on my way! There are children thinned from hunger, sunken by indifference- Oh! Love, bring me along now to prevent even the least of suffering! I'm on my way and need you to guide me through Love’s maze that I might arrive and turn into another and another and wed with Love for better or worse, for richer or poorer, for Love before fear, Love before war, Love not greed, Love not hunger, Love long before death. The green of Love stands …

Last Night I Dreamt I Died Without the Grace of Love

Last night I dreamt that I died without the grace of Love. Her rivers flowed of death, wailed of profound tragedy and humankind’s want. Rivers flowing of blood, rivers smothered in toxins, rivers of plastic, rivers of waste, rivers of death twisting their way back. That was not last night’s dream. That is now.

Last night’s dream snuggled her fangs into my spirit, sending me to me.

Last night I dreamt of death. It crawled inside my carcass like a worm, pulsating into my being. Who is the author of this grand production? Whose damaged mind came up with this little play, this unimportance in the larger scheme?

She is with me. I can’t verify her credentials, so it's better to be safe than to be sorry. Love.

Last night I ached for truth and woke to my spine tied up in knots.

Careful what you ask for, child. Better to be sorry than remain safe…

Last night I dreamt I died without the grace of Love.

© 2011 by mark prime

12 Bach, shudder at the end

12 Bach- shudder at the end. Nonsensical, sounds grand. Stupid me. Stupid you. Stupid she. Stupid he. Stupid father. Stupid mother. Stupid son. Stupid daughter. Stupid nephew. Stupid niece. Stupid uncle. Stupid aunt. Stupid we.

Yo Yo Ma take us away from this end, trails of eternal whispers heard and felt upon the spirit doing its best to penetrate the thickness of skulls.

Look beneath you, all you ever need do is remember where you are, the eartH, Heaven and Home. We, her stewards, have cause to fight for truth, for Love, for her, for it is all there is in the end. The rest is recycled with the new spirits stepping off into the next. Perhaps…

12 Bach, shudder at the end, a forever of glee. Is it me? Am I up next? Can I be late to my own debut? Fear is the mind-killer. Stupid fear…

© 2011 by mark prime

You Can Know a Truth Without Actually Ever Having Been Convinced of it.

You can know a truth without actually ever having been convinced of it. I imagined you were an angel, who’s to say I’m wrong? Some may, but I will still consider her an angel for having strayed into my path to begin with. This dance is not mine, it is ours. She moves about us like light choreographing around planets, like you and I tragically searching for the blue and green thread between love and Love and it’s always been just beneath our feet.

Sing me a moan so clearly blue, play me a lick that soothes of green, take me down with my soul lying between your words and your soul resting between mine. Begin...


No. But I thank you for your kindness.

A hundred men could not sway my allegiance from truth. I've the strength of Love. You can seek the same. Bow to her with your sorrow at having tried to slay her with your grimacing eyes when you'd all the reason to smile. Love...


I’m a foul beast if I do not carry on, if I do not seek the truth through the spirit of others wha…

From the Ground Up

It is time to learn life from the ground up, not too far off of the soil, just enough to have a chance at never disregarding her. We’ve broken down the walls and spirit is bleeding out, calling our names like solemn prayers- shriek and wail, after you’ve laughed, evermore breathed again and again to always return to Love. Speak of Love. Discuss Love. Laugh with Love. Cry with Love. Dance with Love. Smile with Love. Be Love. Love.

Bow to them they told me, bow. Bow they demanded, bow. But I’d have none of it, this, my belief, is mine. The angels allowed me to dance, a silent waltz that came blistering across the floor like justice within the Heart(H) of Love. Rejoice! Hit it bugle! Soar me a note with G force winds and valuable dreams- Stop. Begin to dream. Dreams, as well as Love, are free. Stop.

© 2011 by mark prime

I Am Not Alone

I am not alone. I have Love. On her way by me last year, I thought I’d catch a ride.
I’d tried so many other ways, but Love’s destiny evaded my pathway toward war.

Let us Love now …Now. Now, before we hear our echoed fate, Manifest Destiny- dreams by any other name are false.

Assemble your Heaven to its original tallness, to its amazing beginning and never-end for all of life, Love’s precious creations… Meant for all living things, a sun that asks not for anything from us but that we Love, a moon that beckons our higher thoughts, but also a cautionary star or two shoot by in mid-flight ...and I hear the strings quiver on that note… Hush, child. I am here. I am Love.

© 2011 by mark prime

The Story Never Ends

The story returns carrying grave sorrow last upon its brow. The story never ends, really. It goes on for as long as it takes to create an infinite Love... The story never ends, it changes. Try putting a period or a conclusion on anything that is Love and you’ll find out that you were wrong. It’s not about right and wrong. It’s about nature.

It’s about truth!

Truth never ends. She meanders around campfires jostling souls before she goes. She is the unspoken truth, a wordless truth, the mother of all we know, The Grandmother, the Heart(H) of Love.

Creation is begging we reconsider our discordant path. Pleading we camp here evermore. Praying that we love, Love without attachment. Love is unattached because it is free…

Bring me out of this latest collapse found deep in me, this story- this Love that shines in me is not me. It is you, brothers and sisters, without your Love, I would not be.

Truth never ends. She meanders around campfires jostling souls before she moves on. She is the u…

Remembering It Happened

The cavern will do, but a smaller affair is in order. The cavern’s too wide to hold the innocent and their shriveled up lot of Love. The meadow stands open. Rise now with the fury of the grudge you hold for what you’ve allowed. Cast a shadow now, Mother! Rake your Love across this encampment, that warriors might find their way to the next leg of your journey, until next imagine themselves worthy of this battle for peace. Love waits for her just reward.

The mountain’s hold the caverns, as does the ground, the mighty sentinel holding fast his slipping grip on man. Wake me in time for water, my Love! Wake me in time to smile upon your loving grace, delightful day.

I dreamt you held my hand at the cellar door, and then dreamt that I remembered it. Dreams turn into prayers and prayers turn into dreams. I used to dream of emptiness, of quiet, of nothingness, death, ever sleep. Now I dream of Love. Of Love, I dreamed she still smiles, dreams, loves.

Light, before snow twitches into afterno…

My Gravest Sin

I took the wrong path so long ago… the steps came swift with winter and I saw my reflection lurch like fate.

I’m meant to stand and let her massage my feet, animal, remember where, who and what I am, and then bow to her hold on me. I’ll weep if I must, but for the love of life, Love’s mystifying creation, I will be her steward now.

Raise the Mother to her original tallness, gaze upon her grandmother majesty, and eat of her fruit, her green life, with a rainbow of affection as sentinel.

Pound out my Love like a peace-drum and let it carry me along. Yes. I took the wrong path, but I now happily retrace my steps on the way back, only to find me standing agape, bent in great pain at what I’ve done to heaven.

Pray I’ve time to remedy my gravest sin…

© 2011 by mark prime

Our Last Taking

Knowing where you are, knowing and loving where you are, this is the only form of life (as we imagine it) that has life similar only to itself and it is, by all intents and purposes, Heaven, the Heart(H) of Love. We are the blind, remember? We do not see our own fortune. Eternal Life with Love. (Look beneath your feet!) Never having to go without because you chose to follow what was familiar over the unfamiliar. The familiar path is human, as well as Love.

We’ll breathe our last taking what isn’t ours to take. Bring down your gavel upon humankind's foul thoughts, spirit prayers for those afraid. Yes. It might be time to begin…

© 2011 by mark prime

They’re Not Going To Let Me

They’re not going to let me come forth without peace and full Love in my spirit, moving warlessly.

Who are they?

You and I swaying to the other’s spirit, creation’s manifestation of Love; live for eternity if you always cherish her Love, her earthly dominion. You better prepare yourself to repeat the same mistakes over and over and- Clarinet! Moan me your most sorrowful wail. Bang your drums with glee and attend to the eartH (Heaven and Home), and family. ...Piano! Roll your lightening that she might glimpse tomorrow!

Peace and full Love?

They’re not going to let you, either…

© 2011 by mark prime