Skip to main content

SOULS OF ALL

Yes. We can forgive and forget.
There’s beauty in all things that are natural to Creation’s unfolding.
Too many human actions have been and continue to be ugly. Question is, why? What on earth could have us murdering, raping, pillaging, oppressing, starving, demeaning, torturing, warring and scoring? ENOUGH!

Do not enter your halls of worship without first having done your duty

Do not imagine that your books tell even remotely near the truth in our story!

This is Heaven!

Wake up!

WAKE UP NOW!

Hello…

It… Is… What… We… Believe… Of… It…

These words, my friends, are not a belief, they are a truth among many.

God is all things, known and unknown, best we find our equilibrium, before we begin another tumbledown into our fearful beliefs…

RISE UP! I am…who and what you need me to be, same can be said of Home…

Love and I are One, yet if this has been my last will and testament, it needed some influence, I thought, why not the souls of all contributing to their own storied outcome.




© 2016 Mark Richard Prime

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

........•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

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

Per Plex Ed

            PER+PLEX-ED When you haven’t heard the truth in so long, when you do, it rings a most familiar s ong. That’s the human song, the truth rolling out exactly when it should.      (If a truth is told and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound only to the one that spoke it?)    Yes, but our ears aren’t strong enough to hear it.     [a perplexed silence] © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem