Skip to main content

The collective breath...

This is me, and this is you, and this is me, and this is you and this is you and this is you and this is you and this is you and you and you and you and you and me. I think...

~

The collector spirit is witnessing itself turn over to love instead of war.

~

Now I just wait my just desserts as I stammer off a few more lines meant for all.

I think all has become an echo instead of the fullness of Love and Peace being carved about in belief. Within, God speaks to each of us, and as my penance I garnered zero recognition until I was flipped back right side down...echo.

~

Everyone remains loving, laughing, living, breathing, swimming with seeing all that is life, let us begin...

~

I'm not sure if people like me, but I'm hopeful that most of them do, it might seem so or it may be deep down. I'll get a laugh, or maybe seem deep down sounds more a caution.

~

This is where the story begins to crack, I mean it's just a story after all, right?

~

Come and hear me out and then we can, as a collective, begin to believe in me, the self and the collective by its very nature, let us change and no longer be the voice of our truth's charade, but be the truth of our recognition! Smile on me my loving family. Bring me forth of your want, I will need to know, that I might face the truth and emerge on the other side without doctrine, with forgiveness of Heaven beneath the laughing feet- Humble thyself to me and pay attention in ways that only profit the truth, reverse order for me, my dance backward comes from me... Mark R Prime
© 2015 Mark Richard Prime, I am.


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
........•SHRIEKING MACHINE•........                  •HEAD-LINES•                           •RIP•     ---(“Russian missiles blast Ukrainian military academy and hospital, killing more than 50, officials say”)---    There are no more lessons to learn here, no more beds to hold the human wounded, just missile’s shrieking their grotesque ode, The Death of Humankind! RIP, children of God…    ---(“Hundreds attend Mercer Island vigil, march for murdered Israeli hostages”)---    Dear mourners, this is the brutal vacuum of a genocidal, terror-filled, indiscriminate war-machine made of fear and we are all hostages to its deafening roar! RIP, children of God…    ---(“10-year-old allegedly confesses to fatally shooting 82-year-old man and his daughter”)---    I must confess, this is part of war’s shrieking, children lost with a we...
Post a Comment
read the poem

FAULT METER

FAULT METER    When you get a question wrong you will hear three loud beeps followed by an even louder ticking of a clock.    (Like tick-tick-tick-tick-tick?)    You are half right.    (Like tock-tock-tock-tock-tock?)    You got two halves of it.    (Then I give up!)    You do?    (It ain’t out of weakness, it’s my adhdad.) I understand.    (You understand what?)    That it’s not out of any weakness on your part.    (Weakness, on my part in what?)    Never mind, it’s definitely adhdad.     •    We float, we fly, we soar! We find our wings in each other. We find friends, cousins of the one seed of existence. An existence which never began, but always was, that loves us enough to provide life’s needs, our own, the same. A collection of living peacekeepers upon the surface of the most heavenly example known to them. • © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem