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Showing posts from September 9, 2012

Long Commenced

We are all walking these streets under our own abysmal verdict. Frequently we hear that we’re faced by avoidable contamination. We’ve heard it before, that we must breed our skin apart from those others until our masks are solid and chaste, irremovable, useless. Force the skin’s hue down, imprison our colors on the nomadic streets.

We need be single-minded to form our face into the perfect color of a perverted truth, this evolution is ugliest now, storming its infection across the world.

We’re walking the streets, the roads, the twisting spheres bending away, humanity begging we refuse this council, this deception. One stride on this eartH, one long, delightful use of man, animal, dying now, ready to live. Our fuel’s the blood Under our skin, our reckless mind, the contagion.

Understand this, our progression has long commenced. We cannot forgo its breathing revolution.
We cannot, from its rise, ourselves remove. O! It will thrash our sticks and stones, and turn its heaven away from o…

Just Leave Our Flags at Half-mast

(Do not raise your weapons of fear upon anything but your needs.)

If my want pulls the trigger, God help me...

Why not just leave our flags at half-mast and someday soon, maybe there’ll be no need for flags to tell us where Home is…

A flag of the eartH is redundant…

A flag of country should only be one of pure Love or render it obsolete all together…

Unite with common purpose and Love will smile upon humankind and erase all of their fears. All of their wars and murder and rape and anguish personified to match the grimacing pace found in our imagination…

Cleanse the eartH and you cleanse the spirit, foul the eartH and the one Exactness comes knocking. If you answer the knock, prepare to be tested like you’ve never imagined before…

(Knock knock…)

Who’s there?

(Curmudgeon.)

Curmudgeon who?

(Why do you ask questions within yourself about your truth, yet your original spirit, nor the eartH, recognize your question’s need? They are obvious answers that you’ve missed, right beneath the feet…

Like, Dislike, Love, Sad, Funny, Huh?

~Facebook has the "Like" button as a one click choice. Why not a "DisLike", a "Love", a "Funny", a "Sad" or even a "huh?" button...?

Just a thought.

~

It'd make "liking" a sad post, less awkward...

~

(There is a “dislike” button now, and agree with having a larger selection of choices.)

I'm not a big fan of a "dislike" button, as I believe if one is going to like or dislike a post they should feel free to enter into a discussion of their choice in the comments. I think doing so helps people grow both mentally and spiritually, for, after all, I believe we are dancing with one another's spirit and thinking fearlessly about our selves. Our purpose, our need...

I say let us ponder upon our purpose. I say let's examine what we know, we've examined what we believe until we're blue in the face, let's not forgo our own image of God or Allah or Yaweh or Christ, etc, but instead begin t…

Weapons of Fear

(Do not raise your weapons of fear upon anything but your needs.)

If my want pulls the trigger, God help me...

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

The Battle Between

The battle between...

The animal's in our spirit and the spirit is in our animal. How else could it be?

If you believe in Love and you believe in fear, you’ll always remain in limbo, evermore in battle between goodness and want…

(Echo...)

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

From Other Living Plants

(Human Ancestors Were Nearly All Vegetarian from Scientific American)
(Herbivores are organisms that are anatomically and physiologically adapted to eat plant-based foods. Herbivory is a form of consumption in which an organism principally eats autotrophs, such as plants, algae and photosynthesizing bacteria. More generally, organisms that feed on autotrophs in general are known as primary consumers.)

Yes. And flowering plants that obtain nutrition from other living plants are usually termed parasitic plants. Parasitic humans, what are they if not herbivores. Killing a life so rabidly for sustenance is why we began as herbivores and we lived longer, more fulfilling lives, or so it would stand to reason. But are we both victim and murderer. That whole collective suicide wrapped tightly in our doctrines. We parade them about as if they are sacrosanct yet our actions beg to differ...

I certainly feel for the farmer, but used to be before the mass production of beef, we kept to our need, …

Forgiveness and Affection

Those are not their words, it is not their will!

(How do you know?)

They are under Fear's banner. Flags are meant to signify pride, well, what of the eartH? Does the eartH not deserve our pride in the Mother's keeping? Do we not owe it to her, the eartH, our undying strength and with the fullness of Forgiveness and affection, live, laugh and love...

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Hold These Words

If you hold these words, these prayers in your heart, it will serve to bring us together as we were intended as an animal and a spirit. Perhaps, I do not know, but as I've said and will say again and again, it is in ours...


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

A Living Perfection Created

One thing at a time... First my penance for my foul consumption, then my penance to humankind, then to the spirit, and then to the Love…

A living perfection created, an imperfect belief made, boom boom the heat pours in on me as we speak, the sun motioning its rays nearest my tolerance. Okay. Speak that I might heed your council on matters of Love.

(Silence…)

Silence is needed, silence and sun and moon and stars and love and laughter and a blossoming life!

It’s a delightful dance when engaging the spirit. It moves around without restriction colliding with all loving spirits doused in the spoils of fear and Love. Turn around! She waits does Love with her bountiful lips! She asks you to bring your most loving duty uon her as well. She is the mother whom the Mother eartH does favor, so there’s very little wiggle room for me and my belief to fit snugly in the pathway we carve upon, be it in the flesh or in the spirit, our knives have need to be sheathed when pursuing the affections of Lov…

Love is With Me

This morning feels crisp and telling of the story that is about to drift, at a fluttering pace, to the eartH's Love and I will be powerless as to what leaks from my spirit...

The traffic seems muted again, as if it were in a tunnel, ears loud, noises unknowable, shriek! No! Shriek is too harsh, dreamlike feels better. Yes.

Love my friends is now with me, she holds me near to her Heart(H), both, Mother and eartH…

Let's create our own Heaven on (H)eartH, our Heavenly Home. What follows is anybody's guess, but rest assured it will be most loving...

Oh my God, you should have known. Why did you leave me here to swill my own fears of you and you and you and you and you and you and me and you and you and you and you and you and me and you and you and you and you and you and you and… why couldn’t you reach out to me?

(Stop! There is but one need from you that matters in the least, steward! Your love reflected in your use of the eartH!)

Yes.

(Silence…)

Smoke? Has it gotten in the w…

We Have Little Choice in the Matter

It is said that “He that kneels before God can stand before anything.” Anything, but God, right? How would one kneel upon God and stand before God at the same time?

(Humbly. Your standing depends upon how you care for what you're kneeling upon...)

I have little choice in the matter since God is, relatively speaking, unknown to me in the flesh. But the spirit, O, it is most ready for me to dance and laugh and love in its Heavenly Home. ...Not my belief alone.

Love, peace, belief, truth and goodness to you and yours, the known and the unknown, but most importantly, to the (H)eartH of Creation...

("By kneeling before God we are showing humility in our hearts"...)

Yes, and my prayers and heart better be asking forgiveness, I'm kneeling upon the HeartH and must seek forgiveness for my use of the (H)eartH and the Heart(H)?

(Love and peace, always...)

...

If you want to dance with my spirit, I might warn you that it’s not only mine, it is Love's and it is you and you and …

The Flag Slaps at Full Mast

(It’s too late to stop, and you know it, Rimnod!)

I haven’t had my caffeine intake today, Curmudgeon. I kindly ask you to leave me be for a while this morning, there’s a spiritual battle going on inside me that requires I dive my full Love to the center of its winds. Good to see you, nonetheless…

If my belief of the one exactness and Home is to be without hell (fear), they must, it stands to reason in my mind, be crafted and painted of the fullness of our Love…

The traffic sweeps in going seventy-five and I hold the wind as shield from the foul noise of rabid consumption…

I don’t recall anything really. It’s been a blur all of my life. I can’t explain it without sounding loony, but I’ll give it a try… all I recall with any clarity is a memory from my childhood. Not sure how old I am but I could not be more than six. Perhaps it’s the memory that Creation wants me to hold dearest, or perhaps Love scoured my spirit for affection and had to go all the way back to a spirit that brought me…

9.11.12 - The Rising Wind is Upon Me 9-11-11 (12)

The wind. The wind. The rising wind is upon me. The noise does battle her countenance as if she were a whore for our foul consumption! Stop! For the love of Home, stop! Let us instead begin to paint upon her most wondrous skin a prayer for our duty! Ruin, our sorrow built from the fullness of fear, can be breathed into the fullness of Love.

I say let’s change the balance from one of fear to one of Love. Let’s do away with our sorrowful beliefs that bring fear of what awaits, instead of getting down to the business of now!

Now and now and now… eartH awaits our observance…


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

September is Hunger Month, What’s Your Emergency?

(September is Hunger Month, what’s your emergency?)

When hunger strikes it is not as swift, it is not as jaw droppingly horrific or nearly as visual or pragmatic as when terror comes.

(Hello? This is Terror, what’s your emergency?)

Terror comes as a thundering blast, piercing the rust of contentment, disintegrating steely assurance, hunger slithers in.

(Silence…)

News of terror strikes fear and panic, seduces our pounding, frantic wits with darkness, dust and death devouring whatever’s left.

(Silence…)

Hunger pays no attention to time or place running our courage over our eyes with the private ghastliness of its teeth veiled in bravery’s demise.

(Silence…)

We’d recognize hunger in a crowded airport. Know it if we accidentally bumped into it and turn away from its ugly and careworn face. Terror’s not made that way. It arrives with a most thunderous shot, penetrating the crust of our indulgence, obliterating our steely assurance while hunger slithers in.

(Silence…)

Terror calls upon a nation…

Operator: 911, What's Your Emergency?

(911, what's your emergency?)

For this flight is there enough food to nourish the dark and horrid famine? Plenty water to ease across the razor’s barren edge? Sufficient breath to coax this; a collusion deep within? Is there ample shelter from this; a deceitful tomb?

(911, what's your emergency?)

Truth. Is there none?

(Truth?)

Who needs the truth? Lies are more valuable, made to easily pass through the takeoff's devising eyes. It’s the clever packing of truth and lies into a single carry-on that is the trick.

(Lies?)

Yes! It won’t turn the plane’s shadow into flame.

(Flame?)

Yes! It won’t cut the neck of slipshod freedom.

(Freedom?)

Yes! It won’t bring massive terror to the shores.

(Terror? Freedom? Flame?)

Yes! Lies! Lies; packed together as one, more easily sound round, edging near enough to truth.

(Click...)

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

(911, what's your emergency?)

Traffic!

(I hear ya! So are you trying to get off the interstate, sir?)

Traffic!

(Whoo! You g…

You've Reached 911, What's Your Emergency

(911, what's your emergency?)

The sun had its sky, the sky had its blue, the blue had its clouds, all held to an ensuing loss.

(Sir, you dialed 911, what's your emergency?)

The world had its nectar to offer; stunning mountain ranges, plentiful fields of grain, sustaining waters…

(That's lovely, sir, but how can I help you? Do you have an emergency?)

The sky did then forsake them on this day; widowed of a pristine love bathing them in joy, the weight of it unhappily tumbled down, congregating with one another, mourning…

(This line is for emergency calls only, sir.)

The sun had its sky, the sky had its blue, the blue had its clouds, all gripped in looming collapse.

(I can connect you with the chamber of commerce?)

After the shock of death’s swift alliance with anger they held their heads high and marched onward, all the while in grief’s search they strode past denial and posed the earth's hovering question; Why did the sky abandon our trust? “I’ve never seen people enjoying …

911 Operator, what's your emergency?

(911, what's your emergency?)

What is it that the wail of our voice has given us in the stamp of days lurching forward on the damp streets, eyes upon our feet, omitting the faces reflected in this glass grown in our hands and thickened skies over the oceans clot of war’s nectar, man’s squander, while mountains give way to unconscious machines, voices, wooden with a thick green-love?

(911, what's your emergency?)

What is it that the wail of our voice has given us that the march of a grassless plain or an iceless crest cannot sign, we gauge their descent like a killer, set to be forgiven sins we’ll soon commit, as pointed fingers wag at the surging breach leaning its majesty over the dampened sun.

© 2010 by mark prime

(911, what's your emergency?)

Love!

(Click...)


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

911, what's your emergency?

(911, what's your emergency?)

Love!

(Though I would tend to agree, sir, this is 911 and we're not equiped to bring you love, sir. Is there anything else I can help you with today?)

What’s come of this, our day? Feels like a pale remembrance as if we’ve not slept since or our eyes never fully opened, living near death, over and over, never realizing what we’ve done.

(What have you done, sir?)

The dead walk by our closed doors just as they did before. Maybe years from now someone will open them and see there’s no one there, open the cupboards and gaze at the ghost’s of a bare boned affection that move about in the living dust, in the echoes of our dancing within the last of our days, even if there’s nothing worth remembering or somehow it all got misplaced, perhaps tucked away for a rainy day, a keepsake for tomorrow that never came… or never was.

(Oh. Yes. I see.)

Walk with heads held high. Honor all the love that’s been taken away by your own hand and all those you were meant to …

Time's Irrelevancy

Image
I can be very overbearing. The spirits, those I have unwittingly discovered in me, when challenged by knee-jerking fear, react in kind without a wisp of fear.

It is truly not my intention to cause anyone undue stress or consternation by my actions or my words. (I am crafting a belief of nothing but Love and Peace, and Love and Peace will not be denied.)

We hold our human to human vows more sacred than we do the one that is of our original purpose. Are we mad? Have we completely fallen off the wagon on our way back Home?

I take my vow to the Mother eartH very seriously, but I am in no position to argue that I've been the best man for the damned job when it comes to my responsibilities to the mother or mother's of eartH.

I am most certainly flawed like few I know. I am a human being pleading with all to realize just where it is that I am coming from. In prayer, these words tumble out of me without chance to even recall what it is I began writing, now imagine what it is the s…

What in Heaven is Happening to My Reality?

What in Heaven is happening to my reality? Have I summoned a truth woven from fear more than Love? Is the canvas from which I paint not the same canvas as everyone else?

What the hell is going on? Am I blind, deaf and dumb to my own truth? Have I been fooled about where I am so long that upon returning to who I was born to be I’ve sensed a kinship in all things?

Instincts rise to greet my senses as if they were an inferno moving across my dangling wits, a miracle rushing in to save a pleading child, emerging victorious for Love.

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Breathe Your Love if You are Going to Parrot the Truth

Neighbor, breathe your love if you are going to parrot the truth…

(Don’t sit there with the smugness reserved for kings. Love!)

There is no cunning in Love, it is the pirouette, the canvas upon which to paint our love not our confounded fears…

(What order did you expect it to come pouring out of your hands, lips with fingers, upside-down headed man?)

Touch upon Love and you will soon never touch upon another in any way, but that which most loves…

(No! You yourself have fouled your own ideal! Live by your word, Mark Richard Prime!)

I don’t remember my words! Not in any order, much like my story, I had nothing because I believed in nothing!

(Nothing, too, is a belief, Rimnod.)

I only remember now, these words, now, and my now and these words are starting to blur. It keeps me honest, certainly more so than if I were shelled away in some makeshift partition with all my indifference as drink, my fears as goblet for all to swill…

(Oh.)

(Silence…)

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Ri…

They Stood in Line

It was like a slap in the face, this noise that wafted over the sound…

They stood in line to let me dance with their fears- O! Slap! O! Slap! O! What a snarled tapestry of belief that’s crafted from shadows darting in and out of Love as if they were needles filled with rage! When are we to gather as a species and begin our song? We must begin to sing the echo of her plea through the movement and motion of who we are all born to be, stewards...

O! The cry of the spirit of Love is piercing even the dogs as we speak, their high and constant howl ringing over the traffic…

(Echo…)

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

The Traffic Snaps My Spirit

The traffic, noise, snaps my spirit back to the ground. Gravity? I haven’t a clue, but something’s holding me, holding my spirit lovingly that I might return the favor to all who wish to dance…


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

A Bunch of Derelicts

They wanted to give me their righteous anger at my failures, so I had to show them I mean no harm whatsoever to come to you and yours and theirs and theirs, which is why I am here to begin with- I’m the next one, you’re the next one, let us make our prayers to the eartH for a while and send the rest up to our image of the one exactness, God, Allah, Christ, Buddha, Pope, moral compasses gone way out of balance now slipping from their reasoning. Tipping toward grave sorrow instead of the fullness of Love…

The rather distant past has us stymied like a bunch of derelicts standing at the gate with our hand out waiting with fury and fear instead of our peace and our love, that those who oppress us are our brothers and our sisters, all!


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

A Spirit Lodged in the Throat

It’s always the same damn thing! It’s like Groundhog Day around here, only this time the spirit in me became pressed with suspicion of a spirit that dwelled inside my lovely angel Love. A spirit that was lodged in her throat with indifference to my pleas. I must not have earned enough latitude to go without great loss and further suffering … Good! I am grateful to have danced with the spirit, even as we speak I am grateful. This is you and you and you and you and you and me and you and you and you and you and you and you and me and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and me and yours and yours and theirs and yours and yours and yours and yours and mine and yours and yours and yours… Rejoice! We are the children of God and Love! Rejoice that the eartH is the Heart(H) of Creation! The feel of her gravitational pull should be enough to bring us to believing in her grace, her forgiveness and her eternal spirit of Love.

The spirit of Love, I believe is guiding me,…

Trust is What I Seek

Trust is what I seek and instinct has given me a head start over I. Not to be mistaken as anything but duty for my grave sins, the other Gods have to call to you in your belief that they might come with me. Come with me! Everyone and all, let us craft a most loving belief and it is ours! Yours and mine, not just mine and my dream, but all of our collective spirits and dreams of Love! Let us rise up and convene upon what we know and not upon what we believe....

If you think there's something afoot, and I believe you do, it is I that might seem to be stumbling unawares, but you may want to reconsider what it is you think you are seeing...


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

(The Lean Green Bean from The Weekend Gourmet)