Facebook @ Mark R. Prime
Love, peace and goodness to you, yours and the (H)eartH...
Love, have her see my worship and let me evermore remember that I'm a steward. If I come back around again in this our race to truth, then so be it, I will remember my lessons from the eartH with which I know or can even begin to recognize my amazing surroundings. Heaven is a word, an emotion in a larger sense, it is and must remain unknown until I can and do again begin to see the basic truths on my way toward the reward of knowing where I am, who I am and what I am...
Rejoice! My prayer's been answered. Let her Love you in return that she might offer eternal devotion.
I shouldn’t be flying? Maybe Love has no direction, or at least it didn't. Breathe. Inhale, exhale...
It's okay for you to tell me. Otherwise, I'd be nothing to you and you nothing to me. My right as a privileged mug, among billions, don't get me wrong, I've been relatively poor my entire life and where I've not much to show in the material sense, it's made up for in my loving belief, as far as I can tell...
Have I, however, ignored God in all of this, my pretense and my lividness, my utter shock at so few I've sensed that did not have an agenda toward my instincts awareness, at no one as of yet coming around to who they are like me and then acting accordingly toward my Lovely angel Love and home...
Oh the robbers with their grave darkness among them and their intentions. My instinct is at full tilt, whether I'm with you or not. The poets behind the words, we, all of us united, loving one another, all and everything, one- might we then rise to behold the eartH as paradise? Each and every spirit that is born, can... and will.
Oh! Why did I forsake heaven?
Mark Richard Prime, it is at eternal life that you aim your weapons of war, of murder, of greed, of rape and the tragic suicide of your humanity. Humankind gone at the drop of a bomb. Do away with foul pride.
All other animals use their instincts, mine's numb from foolhardiness, a dis-ease that tries to alter the outcome of truth without the will of Love…
I just want to usher in a belief that neither aches from Loveless belief, nor forsakes heavenly eartH…
To those of my friends, my brothers and sisters whom imagine heaven elsewhere, by all means sing it to the rafters, but always remember Love. If this is not "heaven" it is certainly a paradise, so be loving, kind, gentle, caring, loyal, aware, thankful, thoughtful and peaceful animals. If it is not heaven, at least you'll have pleased Love…
I waited and waited and waited for something to have the ring of absolute truth, when I should have been actively seeking it in motion.
If my story comes from the eartH and begins and ends with Love, I've a friend in paradise. If my story comes from a jealous heart and feigns to end Love’s eartH in fire and brimstone, I've a foe. Love will have none of it because I looked for more in the flesh than I did in the spirit.
If the challenge is mine, I'll bow away, if the challenge is yours, remember, I love you...
It’s not up to me when life ends or begins. I must prepare to rise up, Love is whispering her plea to me…
I thought it was beautiful, my belief. I beg pardon, I must have sounded crazy?
No more than the next crazy.
I love my Love's spirits. She is pure, intricate, tough, soft, child-like, motherly, whimsical, funny, lovely, loving, sweet and silent and above all else, a mother and grandmother, sacred is her place, Love is her quest. She is the mother, she's in sync with Mother eartH. She's suffered because of me, and I had to suffer for what I had done to the Love that was given to me without asking for anything in return. Her silence speaks volumes and fills me up with Love's joy and truth. I accept her Love and defend her Love for me and to any she sees fit...
Your courage is noted.
My eyes are beginning to close, the wind blows its breath across my ears, Love pierces the air. This should be easy. Love is ready. Love will be pleased, eternity waits.
This is not a game. It is an exploration of truth, questioning it comes with great risk…
The freedom that we wanted couldn't bring itself through the gates, so we imagined it pressing its paws to the soil beyond the walls we erected, heard it weeping plaintively just outside of our tiny rooms.
Said we could smell it in the breath of every passing spring, spoke of its splendid dance waiting with shoes for our feet.
We said we imagined that we heard its velvet voice flecking upon our ears and that we tasted it in the water gracing our lips.
After time, the long shadows that stirred beneath our doors began to startle us with their quick and brutal motions, and then they began to console us with their torturous laughter.
They never once spoke of freedom, made no mention of its demise.
The curse is that I demand something of others when I should be a silent beast of personal prayer (thoughts) and only speak when the need arises, after that, close my mouth and leave my thoughts to Love.
Finally it comes around. I know nothing. I need simply be…
THESE WORDS ARE MY BELIEF, EVERY WORD I'VE EVER WRITTEN HERE IS MERELY MY BELIEF, MY THOUGHTS, AND NOTHING MORE, CERTAINLY NOT MEANT AS A DOCTRINE OF ANY KIND. MY LANGUAGE USE OF “YOU” AND “THEY” AND “WE”, WAS IN ERROR, IT WAS MY EXPERIENCE AND MY BELIEF, I SHOULD NEVER HAVE ASSUMED I KNEW DIDDLY SQUAT, FOR I DO NOT. (I SHOULD TRUST MORE AND IMAGINE LESS...)
I needn’t do it with pride. Pride makes me think of myself too often and my “self” is nothing without love.
I do it because I truly believe it. Instead of summoning Armageddon, I must call forth love’s most stunning affections and laughter before my eyes close, never to open again.
Reverse course before I lose my reason for having been a child of love.
I live. I love. I am. I live. I love. I am. Rinse and repeat.
I must challenge my thinking before I challenge love’s as I move over the shattered and dismal streets!
And once I feel I’ve made my belief most beautiful and loving, and feel my thoughts have arrived home, I must challenge myself again and then again...
Animal instinct will tell me if I’m near enough to be safe.
Mine tell me that ever since I was slammed unconscious, it’s all been programmed in, yet, it’s still been up to me.
I’ve had enough of not remembering another’s love! Enough of forgetting that purpose comes not from above, but from deep inside the core of who I was before, before I began to think, before I began to breathe, a child of love, I should care for the eartth first, because love can take care of itself!
I believe that I am one with love, as I imagine everything on the earth is. I’ve no need for someone to tell me otherwise through stories or songs or words, doing so has made me fearfully absurd!
Am I love?
Why did I pause after that question? Why? Did I imagine I deserved an answer after the way I’ve impolitely behaved? Do I even deserve an answer after draining the earth of love with all the silly thought’s that I have made?
Love, according to what this mortal man has imagined, has had enough. Enough of my foul want upon the her ground. Enough. I believe love’s had enough of my screams of rage, love’s had enough of my foul use of the one thing I never knew or hadn't sought with very little affection and far too much thought!
I’ve been me all along. Love’s been present, too, but not me. It is I that had been missing with my thinking wits! Love’s been waiting on this child to figure out his seat, yet I was busy making noise and couldn’t hear love’s heartbeat! I must stop the incessant noise, inside and out, and look to love to end my agony eternally that I might then always smile upon another as the goodness I’m meant to be.
Rejoice! It’s up to me where my world begins and ends! Thought up in reverse is why my belief hasn't been known. Pity and self and want instead of home and heart and love, one in the same to me, instead of where my thoughts should have flown!
I’ve been here all along, the learning grounds of home, but that’s for love to know and me to imagine and I’d "imagine" that makes love smile over what I had been doing, believing in such things that are counter to love.
But, I don’t know, I simply believe. I can't believe that I alone imagined that I knew one damn thing without having sought love first, shame on me. If what I imagined pleased the earth of love first, I'd have not used my thoughts to make things worse.
Brain damage? Maybe I’m just fouled without a clue and only imagine. Truly I can’t possibly know. Either way, it's time.
Where are time’s love and life, time's fear and death? I've been a fool imagining truth without ever searching for it. Love found me, at least that’s what I tell myself.
Oh Love! Now! The time is now to love!
For love I must hold the earth most precious and be in awe of her moon, I've not much room to talk, but the spirit's muse is dancing to a different tune!
I suggest I heed her call and never forget I'm a child of love, that I might smile upon her as long as I breathe…
End all wars! End all murder of the earth! End all folly before all breath is taken away!
I must listen. She is gravely ill and needs my aid before her breath comes full force with all her weight and her acid tears fall upon my head.
Am I listening? Am I listening? Am I listening? It is time…
Love demands me to act, yet the earth still suffers…
I feel more anguish for my part in her looming death than for all of the other grief I’ve caused or carried. I love each of you my brothers and sisters and I will not tarry. If this and that are what I choose to be, bless you and shame on me. Thinking I might be love has had an amazing effect upon who I've become, I believe. It did rewind my corpse back to who I've always been, love’s original seed. I rejoice! I rejoice, for the earth has summoned me.
(To myself- as all my thoughts are- "Help me rid my self of this last fear, for it is, after all, the one that’s still within you, my dear…")
I am but a man, a vessel absorbed by love’s creation. My belief, I believe, has been granted. My queen has spoken through her silence and her nurturing sounds. Bow! Bow! Bow down before the “wow” leaves all joy and her children suffer more…
Me, with the earth as most precious.
Everything below and above, I've been home this whole time as a child of the earth.
Love is many things, but love ain’t I or me. I believe love’s the thing that I did seek and it is all and the whole, everyone and everything...
I’d rather serve love than destroy the earth. She is life and forgiveness and is worthy, and I respect her and am most thankful that I’ve even an inch to lay my head…
My fear has created a riddle, the fear of who I was and who I was becoming in the middle. I imagine I was selected because of my pride, my greedy paws clouting spirit’s for too many years. I understand rage, I understand me and I love you and abide.
I have chosen my own fate and love has granted me my belief. This is home to me and I’d best get to understanding my great fortune soon or she’ll not reveal herself to me, instead she’ll close up shop for the next season of angels. Tragedy never felt so tragic.
My wife and I have chosen our own fate... love above all else.
She saved me from myself and granted me my belief, I in turn have saved her from my former self and she is rising now. She gave me the “time” to find my singular self and loved me all the while. ...She is.
I might choose whether this is home or whether this is agony, but either way, I'm still upon the earth with love. It was always up to me to believe. Tick tock…
I could have chosen either to be one with the earth or to follow man’s word and choose instead to try and become full love, yet I cannot become full love, at least not by myself, I need the sway of the whole, according to my belief.
As a child of the earth, I had a choice to make, love or fear. If I fear, I’ll see my life’s flame snuffed without love evermore…
I had to become love’s steward of the earth and leave the outcome to fate…
I believe I am meant to inherit the kingdom of love’s almighty throne! I rejoice that love has always been with me, and most importantly I rejoice that I now know.
I remember and believe forever…
I shouldn't allow my belief to be corrupted in the least ever again. There are medicines to keep my spirit here, to keep me from wandering away from home. Love is the big pharma in the sky, not my concoctions of control. I must go back to love to allow me a rest from myself, back to who I am, of the one seed, that I might thrive and grow.
I should speak from the heart without thinking more often.
Sure! I’ll have a listen! (Listens) Sure! I’ll have a listen! (Listens) Sure! I’ll have a listen!
Shush! I'm trying to listen…
Sure! I’ll have a listen! (Silence.) Sure! I’ll have a listen!
I should speak from the heart without thinking more often. It can be the greatest tragedy ever written or a pure comedy of errors, where I'm inside my spirit when I find I am a barrier to love.
I think the jig was up long ago and I was battling my way back home. One spirit and a soul and love that matched time, and who and when. But, as it turns out, home’s not where I’m trying to flee; I believe I’m trying to escape my own agony.
I must search for love and ask love to shed some light before all goes dark.
If I am living or dead, love knows the difference. I needn't imagine the earth is calling for my help, I should listen that I might hear the earth's call! Let me rejoice in the way that this is going out, and with the same pace with which my words have brought me nearer my home, they've sidled me up next to love!
I’ve been afraid of the outcome, as if mine was all that mattered, or I’ve been assuring it holds out long enough for the message to leave my ego shattered, telling me that I love through and through, and that I am a child of the earth and it's not about what I believe, it's about what I do.
The earth and love wed since the beginning of time, (time is irrelevant) are the soil, rain, mountains, rivers, oceans and sky, if only I had bowed to what held and kept me and which never asked for anything in return long ago. I now believe that with the help of love, belief hasn't ended even here, the possibilities are limitless, because my belief walked next to love. My belief is no doubt love's, it was never mine to hold alone, I relinquish all ownership and bow as I should have known.
End all war…
I released my fears with love's help and with her medicines of the earth. Love made me see again, love has been my queen from the start…
I’m cleansing the spirit as I dance. I must prepare to dance, for it is the function of me to love and cherish the only thing I can possibly glean…
I moved the dream down with one fist around a lighter and another balled up from the pain of running the biggest game in town. Show the earth that I worship her, the heart and home, masculine and feminine intertwined in eternities sign, and I will glean an injured earth set to lay down her parasitic children... Boom! Boom! Thunder and lightening and rain and flood and quake and avalanche and hurricanes and typhoons and monsoons and deluges and snow storms and ice, and it's all covered once again.
My self of foolishness has created a façade from paper and plans and schemes and things all made to go off without a hitch. But there may be things I need reconsider, like being "changed" instead of "free" and "gleeful" instead of "happy", that kind of a thing. Ring ring!
The ring on my finger was larger than my concept of love, this here, it is most certainly love! Mother earth, she’s moving my status away from the self beneath her growing sorrow…
Once I’ve finished dancing I can hash out all that’s due for all that I have coming…
Once I’ve finished my plaintive cries upon love's door, the earth lunges forth to cover me beneath her loam once more…
The dusk till dawn creation that love so graciously made from smiles and sighs has a child that's begun to fade.
I must smile upon the rushing sunset before it disappears. (I wanted to join love sooner, but I had to allow me to get here first.)
My animal instinct just kicked into full gear, scary, in many ways, all these lifetimes without it. I believe that the spirit is love, and love cannot be divided.
Love is love, and the eartH is the heart and the hearth for lack of a better two words.
The earth beneath my feet is the truth of me, I and all selves in between. I love home and wouldn't blink twice about love's heartbeat, if it weren't for all of the symptoms- What? I’d say this; my thought, has run its course.
(An instinctual thought…)
I say there is no violence in me.
That’s all I need do to make the magic glisten when love sets loose my tongue, I should also listen...
Oh! Love, let me come with thee so that I might see, that I may stay warm throughout you and enter the space reserved for living. Rustle your leaves sweet willow, for the night speaks of my days misgivings…
Okay. She’s my Love. My Love is my Love. She is what I must hold most precious, woman, mother, child, womankind, childkind, eartHkind, mankind, humankind, kindkind, motherkind, lovingkind, laughingkind, all kind. I must produce Love before I begin to produce life, otherwise what’s the point? My Love had come out all backwards, like a book meant to read that way, from end to beginning. I should be on the eartH without shame, save for the shame of how I've treated heart and home. What I do in this world is mine to choose. I've chosen to hold the earth as my heavenly home, in reverence to her Love...
Be humble, Mark Richard Prime. Bow to Love’s eartH, there is no shame in it.
I believe that there is only Love, Love to be found when she isn’t too busy cleaning up my foul use of her loving ground. I am guilty as charged for treating my Love and the eartH as if they were expendable flesh and spirit, she is the one I owe my allegiance to, it was hers to begin with, and she shall have it.
From the masculine and feminine sides joined as one in harmony with the whole of Love, the only perfect union, in the soil and water and air and with my wife and children and mother and with her mother, the grandmother and great grandmother, daughter, sister, niece, aunt, father, grandfather, great grandfather, son, brother, nephew, uncle, family, humanity.
Life is not perfect as we define it, it is perfectly ever changing and moving toward Love. It was my thinking that brought agony upon my head, it was and is not Love's or the eartH's, it is my own idiotic lunacy made up in my head. Think more, yap less. Think less, be more. Be the other half of Love's equality.
Think Mark, don't use your brain for your imagination, instead use it for your reality and to help cleanse the abuse you've heaped upon the eartH. The medicines are given to you by the eartH, by Love, to keep you from becoming a parasite to the host, the heart of Love. They are meant to keep you from turning away from truth and are the medicines you need as a thinking beast, to be human again and be in harmony with existence.
Yes. I think the medicines, though not necessarily meant for all, are the cure for what ailed my mind. It is medicine for me and not a drug. It is my method when my thinking has failed.
It’s rather simple, I believe I'm here to worship and care for mother eartH without man's flood, and to care for the mother of flesh and bone and all of the children of flesh and blood. I think that I must survive in harmony or the eartH will say, rent's due. My Love is wed to Love and my Love is wed to me which is wed to all there is and all there’s ever been, but the ending is not possible when I factor in the idea of eternity.
Time is certainly irrelevant, Love is sacrosanct and instead of destroying eartH's visage as if it were not divine, as if it were not my only home, I must cherish it through what I do for the eartH, not what the eartH can do for me.
I’ve been humbled into make-believe’s realization of who I am. Who cares what it means, it only matters that I did not think, nor hesitate to believe that my way is to Love. It was instinctual, it was a cry from the eartH during the course of one night, it called out to me in the mist of a non-ordinary reality inside my sight, my thoughts that hide one from the other, the spirit world is thriving and pleading that I stop my destruction and begin to Love before the eartH says it’s had enough.
I was going to go and go until I attempted the murder of my very home. Guilt held me back. What did I think held me away from what I'd done?
Fear has no place in Love, mine or hers, no savagery, none. She, with her plea to me, to change course before I destroy her. The key is to remember my lessons of this my age of discovery of who I am, what I am and where I am. I am a steward and I am home on the eartH.
I must admit my gravest sin long before I admit all the others. I went about it all backwards, which brought me slow to enter. I landed in Love recently and I’ve been trying to find where in it I belonged. I imagine I have, and I've arrived home. I trust you my Love. Whatever you have to do I will understand, even if it means that I must suffer more. I long to be released into your mystery. I long to be near you and my mind set free of the guilt that I've always carried, too, guilt that swims inside of me for what I've done to you.
Try Love, she spoke. Time is irrelevant to you, not Love. Go to Love, Mark, and bring only your worship.
When I began to realize I was in Heavenly Home, the weather seemed commonplace. I must remember and believe...
I can’t, as an animal with instinct, believe that the eartH is anything but heavenly. The truth, the eartH is heavenly Love, unmistakable when I stopped imagining that I knew anything save for that which was beneath my feet. Believe and remember…
I create my own reality as a collective mind. If I believe I am in Heaven, so shall I be. I create my truth in the end, it is what I'm supposed to do. I'm a loving steward of Heavenly eartH. Remember and believe...
Let me reverse my destructive course, past yesterday and last month and last year and all the years before, past December 29th, 1984, past all days and years and centuries and so on until the shock of where I’ve landed and where I've always been comes round. The eartH's overrun by my insane thinking. Reverse back as far as my instincts will allow me and I will surely begin to see my collusion to the greatest tragedy known to my existence- thoughts over Love's conclusions. Believe and remember.
There’s a limit to the depravity that anything can hold. Everything, all organisms, all things, the self, the original seed, and yes, even Love has limits that even it cannot sustain, at least it's what I imagine to be true. Love's Heart(H) has reached the limit of my foul use, thus, I believe Love's (H)eartH is nearing the trigger. Remember and believe…
I will listen to her, she is my queen, she knows. I’m set to meet her half way, or more, yes, more, so she’ll have more of me and I’ll have more of her, we’ll both have an equal share of Love and this is how it is meant to be. The eartH and I are one, no more separate than my kinship to my fellow human or than can be cleaved away from Love.
I, as a “thinking” creature, must come to understand my limits, and when I do, I’ll then begin to realize my innate ability to create my own reality. It’s happening and there isn't a thing that I can or should do about this cooing dove but let it come as intended, a beautiful and full Love.
The ultimate power of full Love (and my belief in it) are ready to merge and then emerge. Come, Mark Richard Prime. Come dance with creation and earth and bring your full Love!
(My wife and I and our children are one, a union of Love.)
Believe and remember...
If I must run crazy over the bridge I'm thinking of burning down, I should run with "fierceness" instead of fear. I believe that fear has no place in love, and neither do the tools of fear, grudges, regret, indifference, violence, and pity. Peace, love and goodness are the three things that keep all of the inner-bridges I have constructed from collapsing from the weight of my fears and destruction. The three things that I recently have flown, peace, love and goodness, are what have kept me from being utterly alone.
Let me try my dance with my constraints wrapped tightly to my fears.
My belief isn't my human mind gone haywire from a futile death, it is love, and that is all my belief has to offer. I am most sorry, but faith in this past reality was but mine, or mine own to repeat and suffer each and every time that I imagined I had devised an escape from its truth. No more...
Hell is what I've constructed upon the earth, the heavenly earth, however, is fed, clothed, nourished, loved and eternally home, safe and sound.
So love, Mark Richard Prime, love…
My dog and I are talking.
My dog and I are talking.
My dog and I are talking in the same language when I pray with a loyal love.
I believe I keep returning to erect the bridges that I keep burning down so that I may avoid the pain I keep amassing which have kept me blind to love, lifetime after lifetime, until the moment arrived and love decided I was far enough along in my heart's evolution to elevate me to the next level. (Please forgive my intrusion, but I myself can’t flee this conclusion, I'm choosing to stay because I believe in love's revolution…)
It’s where I’m supposed to be. I believe that the earth found favor in my plea, in my prayer, with my belief in love. I asked who I was and imagined the next one was the answer, so I ran with it.
My mother and father are what first brought me into existence upon the earth. I should have begged them to come around and bring me out of the bondage of my memories of a tragically wasted use. (I’ll never contain as much love as they, or the earth for that matter, how could I?) Yet I must love, it is what I’m supposed to do, not what I believed or imagined or conjured, but what I'm meant to do.
Listen for the answer from the earth. Listen with nothing but full Love and the answer shall echo in kind. Pray that the earth is heaven, love…
I am ready to enter into this event.
Allow love to heal your blindness, and you will see that you are equal in the eyes of love, you are a child of the earth.
Love, for humankind, is the oldest running tragedy ever on this grand stage and humankind are the authors, directors and actors in their fictional and tragic drama.
The oldest tragedy?
I suffered from the inability to be happy where I was, to simply love without regard to my singular self, but love with regard to the whole of the earth. I must return the earth to itself again through love. I must be unafraid and breathe in comfort and joy and clean air and laughter and worship and replenish the soil and prayer and thrive without corruption entering in long enough to learn the earth's lessons.
I must be in belief of the earth beneath my feet even if I begin to bray out loud that I know something that I couldn't possibly know without searching for the truth inside me. I've brayed about how smart I was to only find I've been home all along and was nearly left behind. Where I am today is more important than where I imagine I will end up after I pass away.
Heed the earth's plea, Mark Richard Prime. If the eartH only begs that you sit and listen to her in nature, then by all means, sit down and listen. Gaze upon her and listen and ponder silently of the amazing ride, bring your hands down into her once fertile soil, (dead soil and water spell doom for animal). Touch her ground with affection and listen to her call. Listen. Love. Listen. Love. Listen. Love. Listen.
For me there is no such thing as eternal suffering, only the slow lifting of the veil as I come to from out of the mist that left her spirit (Tina) for me to carry. She’s been trying to get out ever since. I’m surrounded by the thing I am, a long haul toward forgiveness from the spirits of the many I've harmed, my hand extends to each of you, for love is all I've left. I can heal the sick in spirit. I can heal myself from me to find my self waiting with love's breath beneath my feet.
I was not a good man. I squandered love. I took far more than I gave and for that I am most sorry. I’m sorry to all for my misguided rage and lackluster love.
Your fear's created a riddle that you alone had to answer and, in doing so, you chose your own fate.
My wife and I have chosen love, above all else. She saved me from me and allowed me time to find my singular self that I might learn of love, and she loved me as she waited. She is my queen, my salvation, my eternity, my heaven, my love.
I danced with all the spirits I encountered, I had to, I had it coming. I deserved it.
The truth is very elusive if my hands are slippery from greed. Lifetimes it’s taken to remember who and what I am. First came where I was, upon the heavenly eartH of Love. I am steward in the kingdom of creation.
Where did you imagine you were? Where do you imagine you are? Some holding pen that’s apart from Love or somehow separate from your truth? Everything is a part of love, which means that love is everything and you've spent life attempting to suffocate it one sorrowful soul at a time. Love is your eternal embrace.
Yes. It’s time to grab hold and bring my love out with full force. I used to think this was my belief to shape as I pleased, toward my ego, but I think it best to think again. If I try to manipulate the truth for personal gain, illusory or not, I'll utterly fail. I love because it’s what my belief is woven from, nothing more nothing less, just love. I believe we always forget the life we led just before this one turns up dead.
When I believe in truth it's manifested before my eyes in proportion to how I treated and treat my home and another. Heavenly eartH of Love will have nothing less.
I required to know the mess I’m in from my actions and my words and, thanks to instinct, I now know the trouble that I've caused, it’s up to me how much I’m in. I beg of any that I have injured, spiritually or otherwise along my way, to please forgive me, I beg your forgiveness of the spirit that you found me dampen in you. This truth, through full instincts, has reared its glorious head. I know.
Forgive me of all of my wrongdoings, Love already has. Forgive me for having abused any love I had to offer, the eartH already has.
I should have been able to figure out who I was by teaching myself, instead I resorted to asking the eartH "Who am I?" A steward to the eartH of Love, came the reply.
Don’t you know who you are, Mark Richard Prime? You were lifetimes of no belief at all, remember? Now you believe and look what you've spawned, lifetimes of sorrow carved of your thinking!
My daughters need me to tell them why I couldn't love. The stakes could not be higher. My Love was being kept at bay to have love enough to write these words that are not just mine, but the spirits I've touched and that have in turn touched me through time.
I’ve been deceived and I’ve deceived, yet more importantly, I've been blind, so I prayed, “Who am I?”, and through my sightless reach I wailed and flipped it outside in and broke away the dam and then saw that I was left with “Who I am.”
Forgive me, I knew not that I was coming, an unexpected spirit found its way in me lifetimes ago, see? I met this spirit again on my journey, it's original man, the one seed. What disappointment to find out my past and realize I've always been an act away from the last.
The truth is very hard to grasp. Lifetimes it's taken to remember who and what I am. I'm a steward of this divine eartH, so the where was easy to map. Who I am isn't as complicated as who I imagined I was. Love, nothing more, nothing less, equal, truth, Home, Love. I ended up in heaven, despite the odds…
Someone asked me if I had ever had an INFP, a personality test…
I believe I've done one of those before, but today, I am certain that I'm supposed to be of only one personality, the one that is of only Love. I had long since left that idea and left Love no choice but to begin to rise up and tell me a thing or two of my out of control servitude.
Love is the best face one can put on personality...
The end and the beginning are unseen, it is life’s mystery. I needn't concern the self with the hereafter, I need concern myself with the now.
The ark has set sail at last. I rejoice at my great fortune! The eartH awaits if I’ll but believe…
This game has been afoot longer and more times than I care to imagine, than I've care to remember, yet I must. Beyond the frame of human, beyond the man-made thing called time! Tick tock goes the fool, late for the truth again, I see...
How many is hard to imagine, but this one is my chance to make it Home without suffering anymore at my craven hands. Love, awaken! Love, awaken! Love come forth that you might heal my wounds and offer another breath to worship what’s known deep inside my soul! Open my heart and let Love flow! Out, flow out, pour from your every pore, raise it up!
Give until I can’t give anymore, stand up and be heard! I tell Love, the eartH of Creation, that I will no longer participate in this game of indifference! I bow to the eartH of Love before she swallows me whole…
When her sorrow will not subside, you’d better begin to heal or Love’ll toss you out of its eartH until you return to try again...
I've heard that all life is suffering, and I'd say that even includes the joyful times, for they carve out the cavern with laughter that stores my oft hidden shame…
Is there a point to any of this? To belief which is unknowable in every sense but itself, I do not bow, to what i know beneath my feet I give credence? (This lesson, this new round of Love, we will have no need for anything other than Love. A new beginning, a new belief that summons full Love as if she were Superman of the eartH, without connection to that which brings me howling with regret at what I'd done to the Mother. I lift my voice to nothing short of what I know. If it is belief, I recall that it must be taken to task for its inherent flaw, it can be changed, altered to fit fear's finger and ruin Love's green and blue eartH...
The second time around has been scary for a long time, but now that I've vanquished my fear, the beauty and awe and logic and instinct and the great unknowable unknown potential within a belief that we are given a chance to create, if it pleases the one Exactness, the eartH in our hemisphere, then it will be summoned forth to prove her love for thee... At least it's what I believe beyond a sliver of an nth of fear. Rejoice! I know belief is empty if it isn't crafted of full Love...
Craft belief from your Love and not your fear, and you will have garnered the attention of the Mother and the Father eartH....
The two united for eternity. A long time since makes time irrelevant. Is that what you desire, an eternity of the unknown? I do, but I know there are those that would rather sleep forevermore in the bliss of the subconscious at rest in the restless night
__Frank Lloyd Wright
Thought is precious to me, but that’s the end of it. My kind has limited belief by forming certainties made of fear and mistrust and greed and riches and streets paved in gold. If I chose to paint my beliefs like Love painted the (H)eartH with Life, I’d be in a better position to complain about the troubles of the world…
I’m beginning now to recognize myself in all of this, my dream of Love, my dream of creation, my dream of silence.
Silence has given me cause to act. Instead of spewing prideful words with my newfound remembrance, I choose to be righteous instead.
What of that, righteousness? It is not boastful or prideful it is a truth that I cannot deny nor prove. It is a belief. What do I imagine the first humans believed in? I would imagine, because that’s truly all I've got, my imagination to soar me above my own frailty, but I would imagine the first believed less and knew more than my scratch of self-fulfilling idiocy, less because who I was was closer to the truth, I was Home.
Belief is no good to me if it isn’t moving toward or swimming inside of truth. What made me think I could just make it up as I went along? That’s insanity, and the way I've been doing it is the very definition of insane. Over and over and over, doing the same. Again and again until my idea of (H)eartH and Heart(H) and Love are so convoluted by rage so filled with madness that I can’t discern the truth from the lusty fictions any longer.
Stop! Look beneath my feet, breathe, look beneath my feet, breathe, imagine, focus, breathe, believe, breathe, truth…
My human instinct must rise again. I must begin to recognize my surroundings. I am not the most powerful force on (H)eartH, as a matter of fact, I’d barely register on the animal scale if it weren't for say weapons of mass destruction and virulent concoctions mixed up inside natures landscape as if I could actually pull one over on the HeartH of Love. The thinkers, on the animal scale of things, but I'm certainly not as smart as I've imagined myself to be. As a matter of fact, I'm quite stupid, if I really think about it compared to the entity that created this universe. Can I create the (H)eartH and sky? Can I create the cosmos? Can I create anything that isn't self-serving? Can I create anything as glorious as the (H)eartH?
No. Like I said, I'm actually too stupid for that.
This is not anger talking, it is sadness and regret, the woeful cry of my beast held up to mirror.
I am on the (H)eartH without mirror.
I am Home...
Imagine love, she spoke her water to me. Imagine love, she blew across my brow and I smiled upon her truth. Can it be that I have discovered where I am and perhaps I need to understand it too so that I might begin to embrace the idea that I've finally made it home?
(Home is where you've always been. You've just imagined it otherwise and you've been suffering from your consent…)
I am now in reality, and trust me, it's not a pretty sight from where love rests. Love I can achieve. I, Mark Richard Prime, am doing just that on the earth of love, doing just that at my address. (Love is coming to me whence from my tongue set aquiver a song that did lay a wreath of peace around her neck.) She’s about to unload her riches unto me that I might prove my worth with joy that now wraps itself around me.
Love. Silence. Love. Silence. Love. Silence…
Let me try that for a while and see how the mother, grandmother and great grandmother, respond. Who knows, love might be worth believing in?
Because I believed in my thoughts as if they were set aloft eternally, I knocked the truth inside of me loose and I’ve been trying to set it free ever since.
I wish I’d have realized it sooner, but Mark Richard Prime, at least who he was, was certainly not a good enough person to have imagined himself here, one ready to imagine his home as a heavenly earth of love, unimaginably anything else. I have done things that I am not proud of, and I have paid a price with my journey to find love and become the man I am today, but I will not choose belief over knowing, I choose to know that this is love's home, my home!
I cherish all of you without question, my brothers and sisters of the one seed. I haven’t any violence in me, I’m old, but not dead. I’m ready to retrieve the truth and wear it as an adornment for exactness which is love's. I believe love is exactness and everything and will always remain. It’s really not worth starting a war over, for, after all, war goes completely against the very grain of love. If it is not of love and with love, then it is to be discarded from the drivel that winds its way around in my prayers, my thoughts. I imagined a loving earth...
I will be. I will breathe love into my lungs again and again, into my dreams, into my hopes, and aspirations, and always and evermore be treated to my own belief to realize it’s one single truth to me. When my beliefs ignore what’s beneath my feet, there will be no satisfaction found or any relief. It is up to me, generally speaking. It is not up to love to act for me or against me, but it's up to me to act accordingly. So I must stop thinking of the "why" and get to doing the "what" that I'm meant to do, love the earth and her children equally…
Peace, Love and Goodness be with the world…
I feel the rushing wind moving me with an animal’s gait that I am tracing the first spirit back to. They are hidden in my words, these glimpses of love, and they dance like nature intended and raise their plaintive cries for truth.
I sought love on the earth first, then in the sky.
This is old medicine. Not from your limited imagination but from the earth's spirits of love. If you deny that, then pray tell, where are you?
Oh forgive me, love. You merely see what I show you over and over and over, so you, my love were quite tired and needed a hand, so I said yes and wound up here writing these words. Simple. Less thought will always, without fail, give the answers before the distracted mind can fathom. Truth sinks into the basic self, before word, before any nonsense.
Mark Richard Prime, before harm befalls upon even one more you must decide that you’re home. Before you can become aware, she'll breathe.
Fear made it very difficult to enter into my own reality until just now. I am home as it is on heavenly earth. The earth calls out for me to love. It's been here so much longer than I and it is me that decides if my belief is worth killing for or dying for, it is not a function of love, it is a function of my stewardship. If I believe that this is the earth and it is love, then I find that I believe that this is the way it was meant to be, and so I act accordingly...
It was the dust covered hair that first caught my attention, it was the pulse and the breath that moved over me with a quiver.
Let them be the last of this murder, pushed aside like a leper, made to exit the green fortress to witness what they’ve made.
The people, without clocks or history, leapt out angrily at the slowness of time only to see the street hovering overhead and their feet touching the sky.
As the band of light navigated the body, it detected something indiscernible, when it penetrated the warrior’s eyes, there was nothing to discern at all.
I think I've seen what awaits...
Come on, Mark! What awaits you is so far beyond your little ideas that it boggles the mind that you even try to imagine you know one damn thing! Think about it. The spirit is what exactly?
I believe it is Love, but for the sake of all things kind, I don't or can't truly even know that this spirit and Love and Heavenly eartH and creation talk is real, it could just be my imagination. They are guesses, despite their truth or their being illusory, matters not, they are pure guesses, mere belief. My belief can be a rather potent force of my nature and can indeed produce a reality that is nearly identical to the fear and agony I've created along the way. Instead of my dancing around this fact with some sort of an imaginary and prideful idea that I know or can know diddly squat of what takes place after I die, I am choosing to stop imagining that I know anything worth repeating if it does not treat the eartH as Love, as heavenly. Anything beyond what I can know is suspect anyway, so why not imagine it as Love? What’s the damned point if my beliefs don’t begin (and end) with what I know?
Take care of this eartH or suffer at the hands of your delusions.
If I build my belief into something worthy of the earth, I’ll have found that I must have used only love to do so, nothing but love. I will arrive if I create my belief according to love’s lessons. I feared "hell" more than I imagined heaven, and look at me, look at my use of her!
The gates of love open when I realize where I am. Rejoice to that and hallelujah... and weep and bob and rant and rave, and blubber and wail, etc, but never again forget the earth or my agony will be mine alone to blame and then I'll die, to again return and perhaps again muck up the earth, forgo love, again and again- only to muck up the-
Stop! It will please creation if you’ll but love…
I guess I may have fallen back a bit on the trace to who I was or am, but I’m here now dealing with what everyone else has been dealing with and suppressing for far too long, my singular self and asking forgiveness from its host. The earth is my first beholden and, if it weren’t for my horrible thoughts, she’d be the only planet (beholden) I’d have cause to worship. She is the earth, the heart of creation as far as I am able to know.
Peace. Love. Home. Peace. Love. Home. Peace. Love. Home. Peace. Love. Home. Peace. Love. Home. Peace. Love. Home...
If I want to know, I'll repeat those words enough times until they begin to swim in my thoughts and then stop and do it again and retrace the steps I took as an infant upon the earth and again and again until the fear in me is drained away and full love manifests...
I'm not lashed down at the spirit, my hands and feet and wits can and will lead me to who I truly am by the time all is said and done in this stage of my growth, and, if my belief comes only from love, I'm knocking on earth’s door.
(The wind takes me away as neighbors reach for what holds them at bay only to find they can’t deny that Love must be carried on, not away…)
Stage fright exited stage right a while ago now and love is set to make her entrance.
Hear her shriek?
She approaches beneath my feet…
Too late, the ride’s begun to shape you and now there’s no going back.
It doesn’t matter if you fail. It only matters that you not stop trying!
She, the earth is the heaven of my belief and worth more than all I've done before I imagined it so. End all wars, feed those that are hungry, douse those thirsty with the water of my love, clothe those who need it, not the masses, love those near and those far, for the spirit is not limited by manmade time or some other nonsense attempting to fathom eternity when eternity has no bounds.
You’ve spun your story into itself and now it’s coming back through you and sounding much better…
The wind lifts me again.
These words they’re supposed to be coming out of my mouth for me to hear, and my imagination’s flying me above the stars, for after them surely there’s more?
No. No. No. No.
Oh no, I’m not saying I know anything, but I believe it beyond of any shadow, of any doubt that there is.
It is unknowable.
Yes. Speaking of unknowable, love’s been waiting for someone to come and there traveled I. Help me by bringing me love's spirit, I will join it and, with love's dance, I'll remove any darkness, any fear, leaving me in the heaven I've always and ever imagined.
Either way, you should make it your belief...
A form of speech doesn’t satisfy when the spirits begin to speak.
I twist around this world like I'm somehow disconnected from truth when it is truth that should be the only thing that I believe that connects me, not fear and heaven all wrapped up in a neat little package deal. The earth, I believe, is eternal, and it's also the only known paradise. Battling my guilt was the one thing that you can bet I battled until love came through me and granted me eternity through my belief.
You didn't just have to seek it, my child, you had to find it. It's the original seed with a message of salvation.
Irrational fear is of my mind, therefore I can simply dispense with hell as a destination of some unimaginable void, a tactic of fear, a fear tactic to get me to forget what’s beneath my feet, beneath my love when truth comes to call on the one of my imagination.
Let it go if there is any notion of fear. Let it go if there are wars and battles and murders and rapes and thievery and the craven stems of war. Let it go if it’s tangled up in death and pain and suffering, just let it all go and remember that I'm a child of heavenly earth and love. I'm a part of creation, inseparable from love so thank creation, and leave it at that, so I can spend most of my time taking care of and worshiping what I know.
Look at her! Please, Mark Richard Prime, search the depths of your heart, and then imagine a greater tragedy. Sir William never came close to the amount of suffering that must have been utilized in order to have brought love to turn away.
Shame on me. Shame on my roll in this suicide. This is the authentic definition of tragic, but still in the first act.
Don't think on it, that's what's gotten you most out of sorts all of this time, thinking beyond your limits…
I’m merely a messenger to the spirit of love, a man, a vessel and I've often been a collective breath of stale air that’s rehearsing that I might utter love…
This is the spirit talking now. Rejoice, swims the Big Medicine near enough to sense…
And then I landed back on eartH where fear ruled my day and my night, where love found me panting, nearing my spiritual death. Then came she with her love and compassion lifting me to stand beneath my kind and declare that we are brother and sister, family, descendants of the original seed.
This is no longer mine. I’ve come unfettered the eternal ship, eartH and heavenly home, and have been plummeting headlong until headlong entered I!
The spirit of love trumps the flesh.
I must see that my dreams move about, programmed as I see fit for finely honing my seeing tools for the one truth. There is but one that I imagine and she writhes beneath my feet in the throes of my kind’s gravest tragedy of errors, our god-fouled words and deeds...
So what am I to do then when my home calls out for my help? Live or die, the choice is mine. I may not always seem in balance, so to speak, but I am the only one that can recollect the events of my life and solve this; my riddle of home. I am not alone on this orb. I am a part of the we, the full family of life, beyond made up gods, beyond the self.
Since there must be a creator of creation, might the search for it or the belief in it be beside the point since you cannot know it with any exactitude?
The eartH is my only beholden in the human realm and she needs my help. I'd imagine that she will return the favor of my use and extinguish me as fast and painlessly as possible if I do not cleanse her of my foulness. Let me then begin to pray for her to forgive me my use of her sacred grounds and, more importantly, begin to take action to cleanse what I have been complicit in spoiling. She, I believe, has a soul, a spirit, she is the heart of creation as far as I can discern.
You can call her what you will, but for the love of all things knowable, you must help the eartH save you from her wrath because of the parasite you've become…
This is the picture I’ve been painting for lifetimes, the dance that awaits me, it has come round and captured my senses and my senses are being tortured with the lash of love for all and everything. Am I anything other than me? Not to my knowledge, it is merely a realm for my belief to assume. I am an individual, a human within all of this man-made noise. I should not leave the eartH her enormous burden at the hand of one type of beast, a beast plummeting headlong into a cavern of want and greed and murder, an animal that has become a lustful and parasitic existence and is attempting to slay the eartH with indifference.
You must in earnest begin your turn. She begs of you to help her now, to allow your tentacles and the love within your spirit to stop raiding the prize…
If I go outside of what I know in search of my self, I'll inevitably have myself all tied up in knots instead of existing in an atmosphere of love with all of life. Instead of war, murder and the other foul uses of lifetimes of my kind's thinking, I must begin to heal the eartH and there is no shame in that.
None whatsoever, child...
Let me not allow the eartH to be home for sadness and chaos. It is not my place to turn her into a place of fear, hatred, war, greed, lust and indifference. Whatever or whoever the creator might, or might not be, is superfluous to the only home I know and have ever known and can ever know in the flesh.
The eartH is Home. All else is beyond your reach. Home and instinct are the only truths your animal knows. Irrational fear is pointless, as humankind's instincts faded long ago.
Hell is a manmade concept and serves only to destroy the home and I've been too scared to face the grim reality that the eartH is the only thing I can even begin to know. My emboldened instincts are telling me to begin to cleanse the eartH before she begins to cleanse herself.
Yes. You should have always known, but like you said, the instincts of your animal have long been fading of their intended use.
Unbeknownst to me I've been moving nearer home my whole life. Through the totality of my life I have been on a path and have been landing on the feet that belonged to another human and another and another and another, a lifetime of seeking love only to find I don’t know enough about where I am to have ever imagined love in the first place. I trash the eartH when my mission should have been to cleanse her. I've been on a suicide mission. I must come to the eartH's aid.
Cleanse the eartH, Mark Richard Prime, not in the sense of what you believe to be true, but of what you know to be true.
Yes. I've spent countless hours moving about among the spirits and I’ve drained them of all of their worth to me, to my species, bent on destroying what’s beneath my feet.
Yes. If they do exist, they've not much say these days, what, from all of the god-fouled noise in the streets and highways and machines of invention, to the human waste filling up the rivers with a most vapid fear. Even if this spirit talk turns out to be just all in my head, it was, in my opinion, still worth repeating because the eartH is what I know to be true, not what I've merely imagined...
I first consider that the eartH is not merely mine alone, it is life's, all animals, all plants and rivers and streams, all and everything, and if there is no coherent thought to all of this and it's just a damaged brain, then so be it, at least it goes toward preserving life.
All of humankind seem to be damaged in a great way from things that no one person is to blame for. They've disengaged themselves from the eartH due to the system they so foolishly made. They've become nothing more and nothing less than zombies of consumption which are draining the life out of their only home.
The spirit-holders of the Big Medicines are here to reveal who you are, yet the bigger answers cannot be questioned, even in your surreptitious lunge for truth.
It’s up to me to decide which one I choose, a world at war, starvation, thirst, hatred and lust all the way to the bottomless ground, or a world that loves.
The eartH seems to have been forgotten in all of the God blather. Which reminds me, another thing that is unknowable is how much more "time" will the eartH hold off its cleansing wrath...
There is no ego where I long to be. Everything’s equal, the perfection found in the whole of creation, not in doctrine or belief, but in the one thing I can know, the eartH...
The water must breathe free of humankind’s waste and idiocy or human life as you know it will end. The water is most precious to life. Perhaps you should have paid more attention.
Remember the HeartH, Heart and Home, comes first. You must wake up, stimulate your heart and stop pretending you've something different to offer other than love for your home.
Hell is the agony of my kind's fear, not of love. My kind's artwork atop the loam is striking a mortal blow to eartH. The eartH's waters are suffocating from my use. Belief will not rescue eartH, action will. It matters least to me where I may or may not be headed, it matters most where I am.
The eartH can cleave itself away from foul use as a species of animal, a child of creation, humankind. Anytime she decides that she has reached the limit of my destructive grip, she can shake me off...
Love all others and all life before you realize you're nowhere near the truth you imagine, because you're attempting to slay the truth beneath your feet. The known truth matters, the rest is entertainment…
But who knows what the one truth is, and does it really matter? Maybe it’ll never be solved? I am beholden to cherish the eartH above all else that my eyes might fancy or my mind might shape.
When I first began my journey, I was lifting my head as high as I could stretch it that I could catch a glimpse of my singular self wandering about without its host, walking in goodness with all the other like-minded spirits.
I suppose it was to my benefit that the spirit of self went wandering, as they will, outside of the vessel which my legs hauled about without joy, without peace, without a firm grasp of love. I rose up to see that my shell was busy rummaging through the shadows for something resembling proof which I sought as if it were lungs for another gasp of air. It was love’s embrace that I frantically hunted, and along the way I discovered a more comprehensible portrait of who I've always been.
“It is what we do that matters most, not what we believe.” Those words escaped my lips with ease and with the accustomed speed I’d grown comfortable with as if they were were the hugs of children or the calming affections of a mother or father, or the evolution of love through the informed lessons of a grandmother and a grandfather, as if they were words flourishing from nothing less than Love and steering me to my destination which was love.
Man’s words cannot be trusted, they’re inherently flawed because they come from an imperfect animal’s deficient thought.
Yes. This includes the words that you read now. I too have used these manmade constructs to express my belief, unravel the thoughts driven out of my lungs by creation’s air, the loving breath moving through my being like affection’s wind piercing truth, revealing the pathway of love. I had to find the fit that was meant for me, the belief that moved through me without fear…
My belief emerged less from my personal calculations and more from my natural instincts. Early on in my journey I found my animal instincts emerging from behind the shroud found in my dreams, the spirit’s steely eyed assurance steering me toward my truth. Awareness and love came to me on the heels of the revelation that I was Home. I don’t know, I believe. I believe, beyond any reasonable doubt, that where I am is far more important than where I imagine I’m going.
Love is the only thing with legs enough to outdistance fear.
If there is a reward in belief it lies in that which is knowable, not in that which is simply believed. The only thing I can know is what's beneath my feet and even that cannot be fully "known" (which is where, I imagine, belief can best be implemented).
So what should I do? Clean up the environment, cleanse the water, the soil and the air and treat the eartH as if it is "heaven" and all of humankind as if they're "angels". It's the only way to satisfy those that believe in Love and those that don't, and even those that don't give it a thought.
It's simple really. Instead of demeaning others, or what have you, I should treat all others as I would like to be treated (with full Love and full respect) and treat my home, the eartH, as if it is fully divine. Everyone wins and I, as an "advanced thinking" creature, can go about this incredible journey "knowing" that, whatever proves to be "true" in the end, I'll be looked upon with favor.
The world's problem is not its myriad of governments, it is the fact that its myriad of citizens have obeyed their respective governments and leaders of every stripe, secular, spiritual, religious, and favored and followed those that have no interest in being stewards of the eartH or in coming to the aid of their human family. The problem is we have bent over backwards to accommodate the beast of consumption, to mine and drill and destroy the water supply, and in general, poison our home, as if it were not the only one we have.
The problem is not that we haven’t been obedient; the problem is that we have not been disobedient! Until we realize, and admit, that we, the people of the eartH, are to blame for our problems, we cannot possibly begin to rise up and change course.
Take responsibility! Rise up! Rise up and be heard! Rise up and save the eartH from humankind's virulent self-indulgence! Rise up before the eartH brings our misguided obedience to its knees…
According to what I believe, the eartH is not mine to sour, this prayer, this heavenly orb. It is only mine to care for and to pray that I only love, for that is what I believe I am meant to do. I am a steward of Love’s eartH. It is imperative that I begin to recognize where I am, who I am and what I am. These realizations will open my eyes to the one truth, which I needn't question at all, it's rather obvious to me. I only need breathe and walk with Love. I must use faith in my calling to Love, in my duty to the eartH of Creation.
If I attempt to calculate that I am somehow separate from LOVE... I'm on a fool’s errand. I am as inseparable from love as love is inseparable from me. LOVE is everything and all, always has been, always will be...
I, Mark Richard Prime, plead with you to love. I pray love for the world. Not a flag, not a country, not a religion, but for the earth. There is no doubt that I am to become one with love. I must strive to end all wars and begin to walk in goodness, for the sake of all that is love.
Yes. Begin your walk with LOVE in your heart. Pray for LOVE to begin its walk within you, not with hope for your role in this, but for the sake of LOVE!
I must begin, for I know who I am and I ask love to walk with me...
If you belong to a church, ask the flock to begin their journey that is required of them. Ask them to march for peace, for justice, for truth, for those hungry, for the children, for love. Feed, clothe and shelter the less fortunate...
I am. Peace, love and goodness be with you, yours and the world...
I am set to arrive any day now, in the place of my choosing. Might it be agony that I’ve chosen as my particular destination of self-annihilation, the one of my making, or might I yet still have time to find myself in the heaven that I believed?
Belief is not about what I imagine there to be, it’s about the truth of what there is in this; my exactness, but more important than any of that, is the truth of where I am, an instinct that is not in doubt, until I forget my duty.
Agony is what you’ll be handed at your own culpable paws. The earth is most loving, for it is but full love, yet, when earth’s children begin to plot her murder, the end of the rope’s been reached…
I will never fly past my orbit; it’s my thinking wits that tell me this. I am home, ladies and gentlemen. I am home on my heavenly love, which seems now more like hell, for it is what my kind has made of it.
Imagine the deceit that had to come packed to the hilt with utter fear to begin to pull off a plot such as that? ...Remember what you used to be?
Yes. But not with wings, that’s the angel’s flight of fancying themselves birds. Angels are flightless, but able to soar above the clouds, above the telescope’s reach, beyond even what they can know and into what they believe. There is but one truth. There is one singular belief that matters, the truth. Believe in the truth, for it’s a long way back to Love as far as you've let yourselves drift away.
I have drifted away.
Yes. Now you’re beached, whales of a tale that are idle on the sand, waiting for a hero that looks like you, sounds like you, believes like you. It is you! You, my child, can create heaven out of the ashes.
Look in the mirror at your singular self and begin to imagine yourself as angel again. You are being tested and you haven’t a clue. You imagine that you'll escape this place, this earthly heaven, this orb of love? Not on your lives…
Might I begin to love like I'm meant to, laugh like I should, breathe like I must, and mend what I need that my spirit might again its dance in love with all? I must love like there’s no tomorrow, because soon it’ll be yesterday, and all of this will be gone, buried beneath my ugliness, beneath all of the cruelty I've scraped across the earth like it were nothing more than an expendable tract of property instead of the heart of love. Oh, love! Please allow me to bring peace, love and goodness unto the world...
Wouldn’t you imagine it’s not yours to know? Wouldn’t you imagine you've no more time left to carve out adornments on the side of The Mother?
No. I am a parasite of my own kind, distinct from any other animal on the face of the earth. Water for drink, the nectar of love. I am, in my belief, being summoned, told things, thoughts that find the experience they never imagined…
See? This is still the heart of love. If you had journeyed without hope, without love, then your own writing would not be dancing with the many. Writing that sings humankind's song, that brings you along with me to the visions of you and you and you and you and you and the next generation and the next generation and the next train wreck of belief ever fathomed in existence!
Those that I imagine I see, are so much bigger than I and much more awe inspiring than that of humankind's beast-like love. Oh for the full love of all, the pecking order goes quite high in this atmosphere!
End your pace found in war, in murder, in rape! Your undoing by your own hand is the price of admission to the heavenly kingdom of earth, of love…
The truth stands now at the ready. The path of love can be awe inspiring in and of itself and my rush toward her plea. I’ve been dancing so fast that my spirit has at times had to leave my body and dance in its long travelled elsewhere. Obscure are the words to my fingers that wrap upon the keyboard, typing out the meaning within my kind’s words. I had has lost my way. I was about to drop and give creation 40 for my human-made trouble. Thought? Why must I have thought of only things that were imaginary constructs between myself and the truth?
Whatever this is, whoever you are, love, creation, spirit, original man wafting nearest my dance, I am prepared to face this truth and own it if I fail, but along the way I’ve been dropping hints, to let you know, that I can’t reconcile without knowing when it comes to what goes bump in the night to what goes thump thump through my sleep, through the pain within the rain tapping out a generous beat, asking for more time.
What, more time that the earth might talk itself into somehow never reaching its limit? She is sorrowful! It matters not what you believe! It matters what you do with what you know!
Yes. I brought this on, a steward of love, when it is what I should have stayed and should long to become again, a steward, an angel.
The spirit of love will thank you if you'll but Love. Breathe. Love. Breathe. Love. Breathe…
I forget a lot, so excuse me if I seem late in coming, I got the invitation many months ago, but I’ve been busy battling myself. Battling the fearful beast I had become that I might rend it away from my spirit, letting rise the truth of this one man. I choose to be who stands before you today. I welcomed it over a year ago, for love had since moved in. (My first thought was, huh? Me? Ha! Me? No. Umm. Who knows? The next one to arrive with a message directly from Love? Who knows, because, I don’t know…or have I always known?)
Hush, child! Love doesn't hesitate to choose…
Probe if you will, Love, but know that I believe I am transfixed with the truth and I want nothing more than for all to be liberated from bondage, from the corporate warlords of malcontent. ...I believe it’s been afoot for some time now, this game of cat and chess and love and fear and resentment and hatred and murder and war and genocide and starvation and thirst. Do I imagine the eartH will wait to our desired hour, or do I think she might just have a defense of her own?
Alarms are useless if the snooze is worn to the bone from too much work that doesn't give back to the eartH.
I passed the test. I didn’t ace it, but with the learning curve deducted I soared around uncharted territory like it was a railroad crossing facing my windshield, imperceptible at night, yet quickly moving my way whether I saw it or not. I landed, and in an instant all were there, neck deep in this loving embrace with love, her seductive instincts brimming with affection. They are there and I must reach out for them to come to my door. I too must embrace my title as steward and remember my vow as angel to heavenly eartH. I weep…
Prayers by another name; weep and love and hope and sense and nerves and laughter and peace and breath and praise of life and love and back around again weep and love and hope and sense and nerves and laughter and peace and breath and praise of life and love and back around again...
So, love, came the echo. This is to love, to you and you and you and you, and so on, until it pleases her.
Didn’t think that one needed taller legs than legs tall enough to reach the truth...
Forgotten too many years to imagine but flashes of truth, the other side hankered and beaten for not ever having said a thing, the two are reigning as equals that I might etch away all fear from inside a fading belief, truth.
Know where you are, the earth.
My instincts have been telling me to come to her aid without hesitation. She is not able to be ruined to the point of the annihilation of herself, the heart and eartH of Love will see to that, I believe. I pray…
Shh. You’ve thought enough for now. Go and walk, my child. It’ll give that heart of yours some much needed thumps.
I've not much else to offer in this act of giving my mind away, save for Love. I could go on that way forever as could we all, yet, what would be gained but perhaps lifetimes of trying to reach love and never quite stumbled upon just that? Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Truth. Love. Love. Love…
Turn your thinking to the skies, Mark Richard Prime, only in name (which is nearly nothing) and begin to offer this unknowable existence as love and not as fear.
This conversations's making me a bit uncomfortable.
Believe and remember that what you believe is only entertainment and cannot be known for it is not knowable in the flesh, which is what counts in this time of existence for humankind. Make your belief worthy of the earth of love and you are ready to take belief to another level, another place, truth.
I long to continue this flight with the notion that I am Love, the idea that I am anything less, goes against my self’s better nature. Strike the drum now, my lovely chalice, that we and thee are most divine in belief that is of nothing less than Love.
Yes was the answer. Love is awakening in me. Love is infinite. The earth is ours to make of it as we will. Choose.
You have separated yourself from truth. See to it that you choose between the only choices you have, and make that choice count toward love and not human fear.
We are animals that are designed to Love and, therefore, programmed to receive. Sounds familiar… Don’t you imagine?
Go ahead and bring yourself to this dance that you might join the loving whole and have, at least, the reflection of your purpose that is equal to love. This is how it stands, I don’t mean to sound unreasonable, but there is a limit to your beliefs, limits that do not cower, that look to humanity, to the spirit for guidance from your beholden, that tells you that you are equal, through and through.
Everything changes and moves through space and time of which I truly know little. I can only speculate, yet I must begin to imagine. I must let fly my tongue in praise of the earth, the one that never asks for rent or bloodshed. Yes. Remember love, so while my question’s go there that I would do the same. Or would I bring it tall, my visit a loving stance that was never wanting anything, but my return to the earth, so to speak, as what, who and where I’ve always been, Home.
I say enough is enough. The time is now to let the flames brighten nearest my midnight, that of my humanness, my frailty, that which has lost its ground and can’t seem to find the strength to dig down deep enough that my love is seen as the center of me, of all, the respirators of goodness that move within everything.
To those that know me, I love. To those I've yet to meet, I love. I'm not meant to ruin things, I'm meant to recall my purpose. To say, I know, is to say the impossible, I can’t, I don’t. And in the flesh I won’t. To say otherwise is to imagine I can truly know anything outside of my tenable existence.
In this unimaginable paradise, you chose to focus on the opposite of who you are and in doing so you unwittingly allowed the dark side, the fears in your most distant reach to destroy the light and goodness that resides in your nearest reach.
I am love. Everything is love, all is creation, without a name or face, the one seed, love, love, love. love, if I choose it to be.
It’s me that got in my way. I come with love because I chose to do so. I believe that I am love in the end, my purpose would be worth little if it was not mine to be one with creation, with the earth, with love. It’s actually rather simple, when I was knocked out of sight and out of mind, my sight was turned inward out from me to you to all of my regrets and unanswered stares and sorrow, and now to love...
My thoughts have tunneled forth here time and time and time again until I've come to my senses and see that it matters most that which has been waiting for me, but that which has been waiting for Love. In my belief it is of me to see that it matters least what I believe and most what I do. All, everything, beginning middle and end, and her presence is beginning to dawn upon me because of my dance with love. My belief has been jockeying its way in front of all. The great mystery I’m writing now is that and that alone, a mystery, an unknown unknowable- me, love, existence, the one seed, the unknown of unknowns. There cannot be another way, at least not for me, and since there truly is no other way for me, I must imagine that the earth is heavenly I it’s latest growth, mutated as I am.
Creation will not hesitate to correct the results of my ruinous path in front of that which matters not to think upon or imagine, but I do, and in doing so, I surely remember the way there and back as original man must have known. It doesn’t matter how or why, sometimes one has to see the insanity before they can judge just how aware they are. If my belief rises to the goodness of love, then that belief is good and will surely never befall harm upon the earth.
As a part of humanity I must rise up and be greeted by my prayers and offer joy above sorrow, smiles over grimacing, and love before my beast gives this all away and I'm here to suffer another turn. I will not resist. I will love and love will be my guide…
Toward forgiveness and joy and love upon the amazing and heavenly earth. I needn’t concern myself with what might be gained from my climbing further inside of my self, my loving consciousness to secure a belief that I have always been here to be, to love.
In truth, belief can’t hold a candle to an unwillingness to imagine any further than I have. I imagine I’ve more to fathom of that which I’ve yet to imagine. All I imagine I know falls prey to how far I'm willing to go. And I am saying that there is something beneath the feet and it is the only thing I can possibly know with any certainty. Even my certainty of love existing as I imagine is a thought that cannot be known, only believed. Why, for that matter, do I even give it a name or call it love? How better can I explain it without demanding something of you that is not mine to demand or know and still make it sound as if it is true to me?
I was anesthetized by self-ejection, slammed down to the ground and left to my own perception, agony’s reception, and I’ve been fighting my way back ever since. From what start, what beginning, I cannot possibly know. My instincts tell me to love like love depended on it.
Breathe. Love. Breathe. Love. Love and breathe, until breathing wins you more time with your self and in turn extends your fate and doesn’t cause your inner beliefs to merely mimic a manmade hell, instead it brings you to one that fits with the whole. It matters that which you as an animal choose to do at each and every moment in “time”. It’s all that truly matters to humankind.
Rise up! Forbid the one that’s asked of you that is not Love. Turn it away with haste, it is not your friend, it hasn't your best interests at heart. Thoughts, beliefs, are what you are, my child, and the more you communicate this notion, the more you understand that you are supposed to grow with creation, supposed to dance with the living spirit, not smother them bent on destroying the earth with your fearful grieving. Let her go! You must untangle yourself from fear until fear falls away and you again become your intended use, that of a thinking steward of love.
Despite that I imagine, I am not beholden to that which is in my mind, I'm merely the latest seed tossed out in the sea of what I feel within a hopeless pace, while the remedy stares me in the face.
Righteousness is beautiful when it’s based on what and who I've always been and not what I've become through loveless greed. This timelessness, seemingly so, did become me to write these words you now read. Who knows if any of us truly are in control of this amazing creation, this most inviting of an ultimate never-end to things!
Look to the sky and you will never have the truth, so you might as well just pipe down and pray for your human sake that love and the earth are the truth of what, who and where you are. Your small thinking will fall away if you lower your weapons.
You’re welcome. Your humanity has come around at last. It matters not what it is that you believe, it matters what you do. You will eventually soar to your own existence and see that you must be fair, loving, forgiving, warless and profitless and only do what benefits the whole without want.
End your wars. Stop your murders. Stop going the wrong way, separated forever from those you loved, those you love and those you stand to love. Love is the truth of what you are. Hallelujah!
That one rocked my head with a thud come calling home. Woke me up to who I was, a thing without circumstance giving away his mind. The loving universe presses me to its bosom. It can all disappear in a heartbeat if I choose to believe in only gloom and doom and not believe with loving and rational thoughts.
Now! Now! Now! Now! Move your love in ways that honor the wisdom of that which came before, and, if that is the case, won't you need to summon your most divine spirit, the one you've replaced with your foul thoughts?
If I found use in your love, and you found none in mine, I've betrayed you.
Is there an end to this, your corrupting bloodlines now filling you with greed and fear and warring and murdering and such foul use that you can’t even summon the memory of who you were? Come with me and dance with original man! If you were seeking a savior, shouldn't truth be what you seek?
Hadn't I better hope that my belief matches my rhetoric, because in the end, I am who and what I am and shall therefore know where I am?
Open your eyes. Make it stick, this photo of the queen writhing beneath your feet.
Original man must have known. I need be thinking backwards and not necessarily forward, I am a mere microscopic generation of something beyond the corrupted human animal scope.
Then it isn't love or hate that makes you do things, it is you. Who you are matters more than what you believe, for only the one seed would know of such a thing. Believe in what you know. Believe not in the word of man, believe in his inner heart, the one free of flesh and bone…
Humankind must reckon with who they are first, and then join the whole floating by in a time and space relation, it’s not science fiction, it’s real, it’s you, it’s them, it’s all, it’s creation.
But what of belief? What of love?
I was talking about Love.
Oh. My perception of things, my “reality”, now imagine that I am correct in my singular brain’s perception and I am on my way back to what and from where I oozed, but from the earth, therefor I am beholden to the earth, even before my cherished beliefs come to dance their words.
Love breaches the walls that hold you away from doing each other in. What you've become is a sickness, a weakness beyond recognition, a human failure to see with your human eyes and hear with your human ears the earth’s plea to you, to your former selves, to rise up with love and conquer your self-destruction.
It matters not who begins this course of reaction to the things that give you your perspectives. They will in turn bring you to attempt to have an unselfish dialogue with love, with your self, with who you are as individual beings in a sea of beings in search of who, what and where they are. This alone can reveal the kingdom that is life’s with love to love before your human eyes. Without a Love that resembles the scowling face of war amongst yourselves.
We’re set to crash and burn, eh? I needn't the allusion of hell, hell is human thinking, fears dangling in the middle of somewhere. What of the soul, the spirit? Shall Love win the day? The truth of the matter is that love can be a healer if my beliefs follow in line. Beliefs will eventually fall away as precepts gone mad, allowing me to locate the one self, the single seed. I am as much of love’s as the next person. Love cannot be divided as in sides or depths or heights, so I might as well stop trying, because the love I fathom, ain’t the love I can’t...
It is you that are awakening. It is what you imagined you've known added to what you are, but you'd forgotten. Don’t forget. You must not forget who, what, and where you are ever again. Thinking comes secondary to that. Your imaginations are amazing things, but they have given you your current and loveless dance.
Hell and heaven are solely humankind’s to choose, choices, edit out the woe and agony in your tall tales. The earth is best served if you imagine it as heavenly within your truth’s unfinished tale. Why not? It beats the alternative…
Peace, Love and goodness. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Before loveless, needless, before my fouled up thinking, before me, before word, before.
I'm an animal. My beliefs have become more precious than the truth, more tangible than my only home to my flesh and bone…
Stand up. March against all wars. Stand up for what is right about you, not for what you've become, creatures without a clue of where you're from.
The beast that has at long last managed to shoot itself in the foot. Ready, aim and fire are the three most despicable words known to Love. Love waits for my return that it might nurture me and comfort me, and reassure me that everything is going to be okay. All I need do is love her in return. (Holding breath. Breathe...) Too late, she stumbles on her way and I've lost a loving memory to my fate.
You risk much by putting an end, a period, to your belief(s) of who, what, and where you are. Period and you're off to the races, only to slam head-long into concrete lying beneath your next casualty. You are animals first, thinkers second. Try being humble, respectful, loving and caring creatures now and dance with the others, the one, the we, the who and what you are, standing in your beginning eyes of the birth of your beginning of unknown unknowables...
I carved my belief out of love. Before doing so, I had gotten far away from the truth of where I am, and now I say that it only matters that I love. That I attempt to discern love and it’s universal call upon my home. Through belief, came love, love of all. Love was here pleading I end my stupidity. I suppose then that I do indeed choose my own reality. My thinking required that I stay in motion long enough to fathom my own insignificance to the one incomprehensible truth of the unknowable.
What are the most dangerous two things ever known to humankind? Your brains and your thoughts. Spirit’s been danced nearly to death with your beliefs. Love is calling out to you and will do everything in its power to end this, your failure, with the resurrection of the earth that you should never have mocked or forgotten.
My beliefs must begin to run silent along with the fading echo of fears lament. I can be transformed, made whole again into love, within Love, within the stage of love to hover next, if I'll but care for the earth. I was in desperate need of the other half to bring me to where I needed to be, to me, to you, to who I am, that I might reach reality. Illusion needed me to smile upon its waning that I might reverse course of my hold over the land, the water, the air, and the tree…
How do you change it?
I begin to think with the one thing I know rests within my consciousness, forgiveness. Surely I need less human thought and not more, less human ideas and more love?
I’d say survival is a word I've overlooked. It’s the reckless progression of the whole that threatens earth. Surviving one another is the challenge, I suppose. Humankind has lost control. Humankind’s purpose I truly “know” not, yet believe it is to love. I believe if I love that all things good shall follow. Love and the noise I've made in my selfish times will, in my selfless times, awaken me to who I am.
What’s the point of thinking that reality’s sole purpose is so concerned with humankind? What does it really matter if the story is full of humankind’s claws of rage and hatred and vengeance and wrath and war instead of love?
I’d say a lot is at stake if I choose to ignore my home. It is time to let go my grasp of the earth before it rises up and let’s me know of her sorrow…
I’m an individual among a species of individuals residing within the loving embrace of life, of humanity, of who I am as animal, as a species within the ever evolving mystery. And I feigned to imagine it all as somehow knowable. Nothing is actually known, or can be an exactness, when it’s formed of human thought.
The beginning of humans, I’m rather confident, came long after the beginning of the universe of which we are part. We need but reach out with love, reach out with our full love that’s driven by the engine of love, which is love and which is. It cannot be parsed as land or in our measly imaginations, it is that which we cannot possibly know, nor might ever fathom to know in the flesh.
Begin to imagine that this is heaven and heaven it shall be.
I believe that where I am is heaven, and I believe that heaven shall be revealed along with love if I'll but believe while I am here upon the earth. This is simply the birthplace of belief, not the seat from which it sprang.
If I’d offer a guess, there never has been a belief that neared the truth of creation. I haven’t come close to factoring in love, because I can’t comprehend the unknowable unknown, I've enough to salvage because of my thinking which has been in the way of my even glimpsing the truth.
The self is a powerful being. It is the only thing that any one of you can truly say you know, your own concepts and ideas of the hornet’s nest of thoughts swirling around in the skull like a pinball game, moments glancing off here and there and never really, truly landing anywhere solid or concrete so that you might truly ever fathom even beginning to know the one truth.
I breathe a consequence that is my own and the outcome is mine to wrestle alone. I should try love, if for no other reason than achieving something worth knowing inside of an unknowable existence. Why not love and leave it at that?
It’s easy, spoke the blooming February tree. It’s easy, danced the Willow with her budding limbs moving belief unto me, unto love, unto heavenly earth, the heart of creation, all else is unknowable, so I might as well construct a paradise of where I am, because the alternative only serves the few and not the whole.