Skip to main content

8.05.12 Blind Hunger Is Suicide


The absurdities’ of belief can pile up rather quickly and before we know it, we’re absurd in our sightlessness, blind in our hunger…

Blind hunger is suicide. Our Home is not to be destroyed by the likes of our sightless recognition, a failing grasp of where and what she is…

In 13 days, time might be seen as the harbinger of our fate.

(Drop and give me forty for your sightless, asinine choice to display your love in the form of fear! You are creators!)

We are creators it is what we do! We envision our Heaven… and we’re a bit behind schedule! It is we that have not climbed where we need imagine this moment over all of the horror we summon face to face. We must reverse our thinking! She is heaven let us imagine, let us believe and let us know! We’ve been creating what we at first imagined was a balance between reality and make believe, it’s just that we got too carried away with our fantasies, yet it is our (fantasy) belief that can save the day. It’s now, or it’s eversleep. It’s now or the sin of having been for nothing…

(Silence…)

The traffic seems more distant than it seemed last week? I believe I’m on to something, but I can’t quite be sure where it’s headed, that, my friends, is when my faith comes into play. If I’ve courage to leap the gap to climb the wall, to tumble in with assurance that everything’s going to be okay, then I’ve the loving spirit to bring me along…

(Sum it all up to it’s your fault for not having woken up sooner from your God-induced coma that left you to challenge truth to speak her words through me, the source of your objections.)

I said I would- I promised I’d see her through. Her story is not a fantasy, her story is very real. Halleluiah ssshhhick-a-wow-wow, the HeartH of Love is now…

Courage, goodness, brotherhood and sisterhood, love and love, and Love and Love, and family and kinship and one seed’s trickle down theory! Guitar man take me away, we’ve got a lot of begging to weep and even more to laugh! I suggest we get on our thankless knees and beg forgiveness, and immediately afterwards, know that the spirit that summoned you is the spirit of Love and the mystery you’ve been dancing with your whole existence. You are being summoned by God to relinquish his bride, go forth and breathe into her your loving Breath, your loving spirit, your loving soul, your loving belief…

She will either spit it out immediately because it causes too much chaos and confusion, or she’ll-

(With your writing skills, Nimrod, she’ll need a few more trees just to print your countless drivel!)

Choose one then, fear or Love! One word! Which will it be, Curmudgeon? Why hold your tongue, Curmudgeonly scribe?

(I’m the scribe?)

Do not the fingers that waged your belief also belong to other spirits as well? Come timid spirit and get to damn well choosing! She writhes beneath your feet in agony of her children, set to slay her Love, her Life and her Laughter- echo…

(Stop praying for miracles and make them! Inaction is your worst sin when it was action to which you were born. Life never dies, it moves on…)

Oh God exists enough, we just have to begin with what we know, then our beliefs can truly grow…

(It’s never too late to come around to evolving in belief. Where’d you think you were? Why were you believing in anything at all? Well it’s set to come down the pike like a massive gust of recognition to where you are. It’ll come with quite a kick and I’m here to tell you to rid yourself of your fears before you ever think about soaring with the eagles…)

God holds nothing back and I am a flawed man! I only believe I’m talking to God and Love and if I believe beyond any sliver of a doubt that what I’m writing is coming from Love and God, then it is actually happening as I scribe. I can’t deny it nor prove it, it’s what is known as belief…

(Belief’s a lovely idea, until you forget that you’re searching for truth…)

The (H)eartH of God is sacrosanct in her sovereignty! Righteous with her breath! Get your hell off of Love’s neck this instant, foul believer…


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark and Michelle Prime


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

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

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