THE MISSION STATEMENT

Tango Charley, we have friendly’s on the ground!

You are cleared to level their reality! Engage at will!

Copy that, Loving Spirit, engaging now…

What was that?

(Frequency intervention, I’d imagine.)

What the hell is frequency intervention?

(There is no hell that I know of. There is only Heaven before my eyes.)

Keep us looking up for salvation and we’ll forget that our salvation rests beneath our feet.

It’s heaven if we want it! Who doesn’t desire Love? Who doesn’t desire peace and goodness for all of humankind? Who doesn’t desire a healthy eartH? Who truly wants to suffer in such folly when it’s always been up to us as angels to earn our Heavenly Home? We are meant to grow with Creation’s great unknowns and with Love’s most wondrous Heart(H)…

(The hell you say!)

Why must there be “hell”? Why couldn’t our belief marry our truth and have Love triumph in the end? Haven’t all of our stories, and paintings and words and music and dance, sought out that which was most loving within our known while growing alongside our unknown reality?

What if it’s known that we are the carriers of Love’s reflection?

(Then your mirrors are foggy in your belief and your reality!)

Yet the truth that I find my self seeking is Home…

We are within eternity as we speak, my friends. How could it be any other way? And if the (H)eartH is eternal, a product of Creation, wouldn’t it stand to reason that we are eternal as well?

Logically, why would Creation, which I believe is the fullness of the one truth, Love, why would Creation fit any version of hell within its Heart(H)? There is not one justifiable reason that agony exists on the eartH.

Where else is agony found in our reality? Do we witness suffering on Jupiter, Mars, the moon? No. So, the eartH, my friends, is the only place agony is found in our present state of seeing. I pray that fear (agony/hell) is nowhere in our imaginings. If it is up to me to create, why would I imagine crafting such an ill-conceived notion as hell within it? Why, when I have the power to make it into a Heavenly Home?

That way, when all is said and done, we’ll still have a desire to believe in something, the truth…

(Believe what you want, but craft Heaven of your reality long before you summon your hell.)

(ping)

(Silence…)

(Love…)

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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