Skip to main content

Inch by Inch, Step by Step, Yada yada yada


I am- shiv in the back- God. I am. (Sometimes the most revealing verses, come from the fear of betrayal, more toxic than the betrayal itself. Fear is the mind-killer, fear is the shame in all things that are set to quivering from the phantoms of their belief. Careful what you pray to. Who you call to when you are speaking to God isn't nearly as important as understanding that you indeed are speaking with God. Our stories are a sight to behold, dragging the exhaust pipe behind our schemes of Heaven or Hell. Choose. It's not even a question, there is no choice in your own example.

Sorrow dances in me over such duality.
One, break it down to One. Heaven. One.
Then there's no choice, but how I plan on decorating my great fortune...

© 2015 Mark Richard Prime, I am.


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
32 comments
read the poem

SKYFALL

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

THE ROCK HOLDS

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