The Two Lovebirds and the Dog

The two lovebirds and the dog, sounds like a nice title for a story, eh?

(For a sappy story!)

Perhaps, but I was thinking more along the lines of a story of two angels, lovebirds, and their loving companion, the warmth in what might be an otherwise loveless day.

I’m keeping this going, and my Love has her grasp of me tangled up in her Heart(H) and me tangled up in our hearts my (H)eartH in me…

If I was going to meet the force of darkness in the hell of my making, I thought why can’t I go there purposefully, why wouldn’t I imagine even the darkness as part of the fullness of Love’s purpose?

(Silence and sound, but there I go repeating myself, and the rest that grew out from that are belief, not necessarily reality. See? I don’t pretend to be anything that I can’t myself summon, so why not summon Love? Well in my upside down headed thinking, I came up against a storm of activity, the spirits were in a tizzy, so I thought I might straighten their course toward full Love and leave my fears behind to become one with God. It’s so damned simple it boggles the mind to imagine for yourself what you desire. It is God and Love that own our spirit! Boom boom and a rat a tat that!

(Put a sock in it!)

If you need a sock, why not?

(***)

It is not all my own, at least not anymore in this belief, I have found myself unable to hold a steady hand now for nearly 29 years. Which I'm fortunate enough to actually remember with this jangled up mind. Spirits galore, as far as the spirit can see...

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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SKYFALL

Skyfall... We continue to play along with an unnatural game that has serious consequences, soon we'll find ourselves enslaved without recourse to the system. (Is that true of local charades?) Yes. (Why can't we free ourselves from the system?) The madness of money. (It's not money, it's people, right?) It's both, money and us in tandem, thus assuring money's might and our adherance to its loudness. (Madness...) Indeed. © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

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THE ROCK HOLDS

The rock holds the soil in and from the soil springs the tree, the green of LIFE rolling from the blue, rising to the occasion of itself. . “Be!”, the (H)eartH declares, “Be what you are!” . (We thought we were!) . (We think we are!) . “You are, but not freely, therefore, only a thought, and a thought without much thinking, as if you were scared into it.”, the (H)eartH added. . [a quietude begins, the truth being heard and heeded, grooving to the flow] ~ © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

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CONFESSION ZERO

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