Hey Anonymous Spirit...

...I just had a vision of you, my friend. You're a very integral factor along my journey. Some of your moves guided me, or maybe it was my instinct. I want you to know that your spirit now dances with mine, the instinct of the mind, the vessels for the spirit of love, spirits that I've been dancing with. And not to say you haven't your own, but these words pour through me no less than your love of freedom, like your spirit has led so many to peace and love. You have been a champion for the people's liberties, I mean you've stuck your neck out for me and the 99%, and I am grateful my friend, but I am your friend and something tells me that you might, at times, have been my foe, instinctively speaking that is. As if you've been waiting so damn long for me to act upon my belief that you sense a lesson that entered the same time as mine, though I may not be the least socially awkward, I'm probably in the top percentage and I have trouble figuring things out on a normal basis, but in prayer, they're swift like the wind that just sent me the last line! Guitar take me away from the idiocy and enter me in the sweepstakes of all sweepstakes- the HeartH I like to call Heavenly Home...

I just promised them both, eartH and God, I'd do it their way. (Might it remind some of you of the pace of our evolution, it took way too damned long,, but that is the process of life, yet time's a man made construct that holds laughter too tight, for time is nothing more than fear! Fear for your life? Not on your life! Fear for your own, fear for the mothers and the children, fear you've been found to own, even the fears of so many thousands of others. We're getting too full and sick of foul spirit, that time will no longer be our scope... If we want to remain in Heaven or continue to then imagine hell is a tough choice if your eyes are not on. Who are we to even have hell as some eternal force of eternal damnation? Eternal damnation is an idea that wants nothing to do with the fullness of Love. Instead it dances like a fact that is unknown. Let us go the safe route and save the Mother eartH from our filthy paws and watch as she begins to give back with the fullness of her love!

Peace, love and goodness my friend! You are a good person, your spirit of love is safe with me. And I do realize that this is out of the blue, but the vision is happening again as we speak, perhaps it's never ended, it's just instinct that brings me these words and instinct that's swimming inside of my spirit and my shell... Spirit and instinct, partners nearest her throne...

Your friend, Mark Richard Prime. If I be more, pray tell?

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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........•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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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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CONFESSION ZERO

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