Just Leave Our Flags at Half-mast

(Do not raise your weapons of fear upon anything but your needs.)

If my want pulls the trigger, God help me...

Why not just leave our flags at half-mast and someday soon, maybe there’ll be no need for flags to tell us where Home is…

A flag of the eartH is redundant…

A flag of country should only be one of pure Love or render it obsolete all together…

Unite with common purpose and Love will smile upon humankind and erase all of their fears. All of their wars and murder and rape and anguish personified to match the grimacing pace found in our imagination…

Cleanse the eartH and you cleanse the spirit, foul the eartH and the one Exactness comes knocking. If you answer the knock, prepare to be tested like you’ve never imagined before…

(Knock knock…)

Who’s there?

(Curmudgeon.)

Curmudgeon who?

(Why do you ask questions within yourself about your truth, yet your original spirit, nor the eartH, recognize your question’s need? They are obvious answers that you’ve missed, right beneath the feet!)

Doesn’t matter what it is, it is a creation of the Creator… and if we are born to be creators, doesn’t it stand to reason that we can indeed sculpt our own eternity?

(Echo…)

We are born to be creators, so it stands to reason that we can indeed sculpt our own eternity.

Our Heaven, my friends, is ours, if we choose to Love the eartH more than our belief. The eartH is real. The eartH exists and we ignore eartH’s pleas at our own risk…

(Do you mean “Creator”, as in a painter, a dancer, a playwright, a composer, a poet, an artist?)

Yes, but Creator is so much more than the mere human talent. The spirit’s so much more than imaginable and of nothing but Love. It is all and everything’s purpose, to inspire our creation of a most Heavenly Home. Our laughter is like the children’s screams in Monsters Inc. as it increases the chance of a loving outcome over fear’s violent reach…

(Careful using references to children’s movies, Rimnod!)

The movie is not about the children, numbskull, it’s about we, the adults, monsters working as slaves to fear…

Human + fear + death + eternity = hell.

Human + love + life + eternity = heaven.

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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