Skip to main content

Rejoice at Knowing that You Can’t


(Liar!)

Yes. Like I said before, everything’s a lie. Rejoice at knowing that you can’t know, that you don’t know. Belief’s a brute. It comes with a spirit or two who don’t play nice.

(Sounds like an excuse.)

Like none other.

(Liar!)

Yes. It all is. What we believe can’t be what is, God would have to be some monster in the sky instead of a part of the gift of the eternal Life beneath our feet…

Eternity has already happened my friends. Eternity is. Get used to it, or go to sleep forevermore.

Sleep forever, eternally. That’ll be simple for humankind to pull off, they’re so damn good at closing their eyes to their gravest sin; the attempted murder of all Life, Love and Laughter…

(Silence…)

Love!

(Liar!)

Enough! For the love of the HeartH end this your game of fearful beasts! Let us remember, let us know where we are, not where we believe we are! It is time for us to relinquish this God-fouled belief and begin to cleanse and restore what it is we know! Stop repeating the same mistakes over and over and act as if we’re not guilty as a whole for the crime of collective suicide! Wake up! This is not a game of who’s right and who’s wrong, it’s a game of chance! That’s damn well enough! End the charade and kneel to what you know before what you believe pulls the trigger! I’m not placing my bets on what is believed to be, I’m putting it all down on what I know to be…

(Silence…)


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark and Michelle Prime


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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
32 comments
read the poem

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
12 comments
read the poem

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...
23 comments
read the poem