8.27.12 Necessity is Our Need, Not Our Want

(Frames/sing - Anslem's Proof of God)

Isn’t it possible that we are a part of this thing we’ve coined evolution, our adaptability theory or our belief’s presumption heaped upon the great and immense unknown unknowable, and we’re evolving toward laughter, life and Love; evolving love in motion toward the fullness, the center of Love, as if our very spirits depend on it? There’s a word for that…

(Necessity is your need, not your want. Remember…)

There are so many loveless gestures in the spirits that dwell within the one singular exactness of the loving spirit, wherever and whatever. We’re evolving, we’re adapting to our need to love over our inane desire to be King and Queen of the loving eartH of Life, Laughter and Love with a tyrants fist…

Rejoice at the news! Our folly can be held away from its trembling if we’ll but love the eartH of Creation in return…

(Echo…)

The birds chime in as if on cue, or perhaps my ears entered in from prayer to Home, Heaven on eartH to you…

The colors are righteous, the air, crisp with sounds- and then the noise pierces my finely woven shell and I bleed her prayer out…

(Again.)

The colors are peaceful, the air, crisp with her natural sound- and then man’s foul noise pierces my finely woven shell and I bleed her prayer out…

(Again.)

The colors are lovely, the air, crisp with sounds, the bypass noise pierces my finely woven shell and I bleed her prayer immediately out…

Her song pierced my spirit long ago, in the field as a child with Heaven in my sights, as I lay in my verdict’s darkness near my near death, upside down, near my salvation. It wasn’t exactly near to me, the idea of where I might end up in the next phase of evolution, I chose angel over the human animal, I chose Mother over the human Father to reign as most loved in this belief’s kingdom within the (H)eartH of Creation. I chose Love over fear, the choice is not as easy as it may sound when you’ve torn her fleshy spirit with your actions and your words, the best thing to offer her is my silence…

(The best thing you can offer her is your self, who you were born to be.)

Good point, Curmudgeon.

(It’s obvious, Rimnod!)

Yes.

(Silence...)

Yes.

(Silence...)

ROOT OF

"For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs." __1 Timothy 6:10 It is MONEY, not the LOVE of it that is the issue, the true problem. Love, in and of itself, is never a problem, WANT and NEED, or better yet- the WANT and the conundrum of its very REQUIREMENT for our survival IS the problem, it's creation and our blind use of it is logically the ROOT. In other words, let's leave LOVE out of it altogether and deal with the facts instead. If money were not made by us as a requirement for our survival, we'd find ourselves in a much better position to argue of its need and our want of it. MRP Peace and Love © 2015 Mark Richard Prime

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........•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...

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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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CONFESSION ZERO

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