Skip to main content

This Moment, This Exactness, This Progression of Love


The traffic roars like death, the wind jumps over the trash truck. Me? I'm wondering how many trucks it would take if love decided to haul away the suffering?

Think of it as a lesson in recognizing where you are, and then, who you've become- nothing more than inconsequential and a fearful little beast that believes rather than learns, headlong instead of swerves. Trace the steps back that you might see your burden is fitting, given the way you've loved the earth…

Ironically enough, my use of her has tipped the scales in Love’s favor. This requires a drum!

Without the drum, the rhythm of the heart would be without its music’s reassurance thrumming in the silence of everyone, every crowd, every tragically alone, every surrounded affection that’s deserved for a job well done.

It’s a dream you’re having. Remember?

No.

Remember where you are?

Yes.

(ping)

~

My duty has all but disappeared and nearer to a reckoning like no other. This is heavenly earth, paradise, and I'd best get to loving before agony comes loose atop the earth and brings me to my thankless knees and leaves me to fend off my own vacant brand of love.

Your animal, what does it tell you? Run, hide, war and scream or give up and Love? Rejoice that you’ve landed here along your way to love…

~

Love-man, what’s your secret to remembering?

Forgetting…


© 2012 by mark prime


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