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.

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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