8.20.12 I am not God, I am a Product of God, as are You…

Save for very little fear we’ve only use for Love. Fear I had to dismiss, it kept getting in the way of Love. Maybe my head injury has begun its damage control and I’m not really there just yet in my evolution, or maybe the warning is the whole is not prepared for such a revelation…

We’ve all been doing it wrong! It is the eartH that we must ask forgiveness from our foul deeds. Our loving deed to the eartH’s skin is our most cherished within and without…

We forgive him, because he did it for Love…

We forgive them that react to our collective horror. We forgive ourselves of our gravest sin… greed, a detriment to the whole…

Full Love, in my (our) belief, Full Love is simply the collective spirit. Without giving up your God, you can see that this actionable Love is worth renewing, surely we have within us a sense of our responsibility as a child of Creation to not abuse your surroundings? Our surroundings, they are what we imagine they are, not what they actually are, we deem that which is in our existence, not in our resistance, not in our most abused privilege is the biggest thing known to man to exist, Heaven and we’re tumbling headlong into a dismal pile of a most foul unrecognizable past…

I believe I’ll choose eversleep in the end of this my play, but I cannot say, for, as of yet, it is not in my dream of things to come…

Question is: Are they me or are they you? Are my fears dancing with yours, causing us to frown and kill and die and die and die and DIE in order to LIVE! Over and over for what I’ve, for what we’ve done, as the collective Spirit to the eartH of Creation?

(It’s a heck of a lot easier than you’ve been imagining, Nimrod.)

Ouch…

(Serve that of which you know as much as that of which you believe…)

*~*

I like to smoke, stupid, stupid indeed, all things in moderation.

I’m far from perfect, aren’t we all?

But I don’t need to smoke, I need to breathe!

It is both the spirit and the soul, which is what full Love will feel like after our eyes adjust! Boom boom! Thought I was sleeping there didn’t you? Your test is underway as is mine, remember its both happening to me and existing in my reality, which I have deemed as Heavenly, our HOME, the (H)eartH of Creation...

Existing in the HeartH I have not pondered, why ponder what existence is like in Heaven? I’m there, and I’m no longer blind! I see her majesty even from my backyard, within her song to me, within her song for all of Creation’s children to hear and heed…

End your yammering! End your wars, end your famine, end your genocide, end your abuses, end your fears and begin to live, love and laugh! Laugh, Live and Love like eartH, Home was meant to be experienced.

We spend too much time trying to over-thrill our already thrilling experience and therefore are having difficulty seeing the truth for all the toxic environment found within the mind and at the behest of the human hand.

(The hands did not forsake you. It was the spirit running through your hands…)

I have to do this in order to pay for my sins? Oh my…

(Anybody got a tent?)

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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Waiting for It

Why do they stay there, between war and peace? Sky’s tapestry doles out guns, bombs and rocks while flesh and bone swim away from the ache yet live on as the food for the murder of peace. Why do we hide from the truth as if it were an ogre while death makes a home inside their living and war dispatches a raven to their door, smirking with the teeth of empire? Why do we wait, stooped for another wink? The sky’s drapery has tossed down ample clues, peace is breathing in harmony with war. (Road-maps are useless to blind leaders.) Why do they hold there, hunched in the gloom? Hatred’s bird cackling with bereavement needs end. Are we not rightly dishonored when we fill its trough with blood? © 2007 mrp/thepoetryman

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Laughter's Grip

They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait on His voice to destroy the golden temples of man, hold my tongue until His powerful breath was upon me, and from His loving casualties I’d at last know the Savior. They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait for His followers to die away their persuasive babble and the murder of Islam to breach the walls of the earth as the many damned souls drowned under holy laughter. “O! The Lord God is looming! On his way with God’s wrath! We are to take up swords and send evil howling back to die their well deserved and slow death! Their faces popped and spattered these words as they fell back, caught in His fiery presence, twisting their tongues into drivel and thrashing their minds in the glory of an Eden unlike any other. And then the snake planted his venom through the laughter of their gyrating madness. Tears emptied their pockets, spirits came crashing , and the anointed rapture of their making grew tire...

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CONFESSION ZERO

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