CONFESSION ZERO

Saving Water with the Pour Flush Technique   from   Water For People   on   Vimeo Since our gift began to flow we’ve seen it as our approval. Where clear silvery liquid coats our expressions we in turn wash them away with abuse. Slippery streams of blue enfold the arid sphere but drought bathes us in a burnt and brittle wrath, a rage of bone-dry judgments as we coat limbs without moisture, gray tongues, without love. Crimson and ready, the shade of life throbs and a haze of creatures mine for blue water and the children can be seen in the dusk splashing laughter on the living’s edge. The winter returned like damaged goods. Odd that we think we own her like a tattered pimp owns a whore, a queen owns her yellow throne, we’ll readily wash it all away with our use. © 2010 by mark prime

(Sebastian Errazuriz - American Kills) All clocks have stopped their thrumming, the creatures slink across the threads of redness, not enough violins, too much violence breathing to the drum of our failing love. This, our dust, is not settling as it should, coating the skies with the scourge of loathing, placing the truth lower than the ashen claws of discourse, opening the metal gate to blindness and dismay. Time is not needed at present, it’s ticking, deaf to our tally, unheard prayers radiating, pouring over the shadowy oceans and seas, clocks without hands... or anything worth keeping. © 2010 by mark prime Sebastian Errazuriz - American Kills

On November 16th, in 42 BC, Tiberius , the Roman emperor was born ~ The calendar of saints is a traditional Christian method of organizing a liturgical year by associating each day with one or more saints and referring to the feast day of said saint. The system arose from the very early Christian custom of annual commemoration of martyrs on the dates of their deaths, or birth into heaven, and is thus referred to in Latin as dies natalis ("day of birth"). ~ Iran starts "biggest" air defense war games Obliged by empire’s inducement they wait and counter as if they've been expecting us, as if they imagined we’d arrive there sooner or later, witness empire rear up its ugliness remembering it’s only a game. U.S. sees "huge" cyber threat in the future From red, white and blue teeth plummets the feasible future fragmenting like damaged skin cells, bleeding out information and suffering. Rangel Is Found to Have Violated House Ethics Rules...

America, you are arrogant, though some disagree, and see you mighty and free, you are not so, for those who imagine you thus be weak disciples, students of a faith designed by deception, live yet, America, for your conclusion’s nigh, from control and war, which but you struggle to notice your heels bearing down on truth, on love, and in haste the best plans of you unfold upon expired flesh, train cars of death to remove you as king and queen of most frantic man, and does with envy, war, and dis-ease settle, and charms and drugs can make us seem happy and better than your flag- why weep you now? Soon, in this, our time, you’ll awaken the world and America shall be no more. Conceit, her shame, is weakening the Republic, and pious convictions be the killers of truth. We the people, afraid to speak, are on our last fool’s errand, one foot in front of the other, noses rubbing the stars, staggering along a warpath which is not ours, it belongs to death. © 2010 by mark prime Death ...

Michelle, Happy birthday! I could not ask for a better friend, nor could I imagine requesting more of you, for a full happiness already runs through me. ~ "Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt." __William Shakespeare ~ My love tiptoes across the floor of you, covering you in a radiance that exposes the slope of your neck. You ease into our love, devise another world that tips nectar into warm hands with a charity that’s like hot syrup pouring over the dawn. We glide with one another, a tenderness with a smile leant to the air and a speech that touches love and breathes allegiance. Our love wants to be a winter coat, cover for the iciness found on the streets, the bitter fists woven within the world’s rage. You want us contained by durable scrims of truth, a taut theater, a ready canvas lined with the crimson spirit. It is this; your love, that holds me like a fetter made of happiness, a seed woven inside the radi...

"It is quite common for some males in Australia (especially in the city of Melbourne), and New Zealand to sport a moustache during the month of November. The custom being known as Movember (Movember is a portmanteau of the words 'Moustache' and 'November'), and being a fundraising event for men's health issues. - www.movember.com - In the United States, it has recently become known as No-Shave November around college age kids to raise awareness to men's health issues, mainly testicular and prostate cancer. Read more ...) You have led us to this place. There is no rest now, no slumber for man while the chirp of night leaks down on him. You entered under shadows, the dark of darkness weaving into apparitions. We may see a section of it, the sun wandering across us. I recall the dis-ease tightening the soul, bent to fit into hours of insignificance. When will you arrive home? Will your guests be staying long or will they step over graves ...

November is the Holy Souls in Purgatory in the Roman Catholic Church Month. (Othello - Act 3, scene 3) Iago: O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss, Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger: But O, what damnèd minutes tells he o'er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! Othello: O misery! ~ The darkness stays too long, the suffering runs through, the demise of grace and the soul are shackled there. We have to retake the night, our grievance is emergent, our feet, idle, our eyes, closed too tightly to rattle speech. The cycle courses from end to end as we turn our faces eastward and our armies march across the living, over the mountains and the streams. We carry our sins like a crystal chalice brimming hate, we’ve been enslaved by our own hand, tenders of work, awareness and dreams. The dawn stretches out, dusk shrouds our grief, our...