Skip to main content

Posts

By the Shame in Man

We had to speak, we had to. We had to love, we had to. We had to laugh, we had to. Exist without fear, we have to. By the grace of Love we fly. By the shame in Man we die. Oh! Lift me aloft that I might gaze down at her wonder! Bring my feet to flying that they might stumble upon truth. Swim my heart through ocean current that I might then thrust it into my Love. When did it begin to fail? What are we doing if we’re not worshipping simultaneously? It is to what I know that I must bow. Bowing to my belief brings out that which is the least of me. The man I used to be. I have to speak, I have to… © 2011 by mark prime

Don't Be Prideful...

(Posted from the ONWA Occupied Zone, Town Center, Fayetteville, AR.) ~ “Who am I” was the question I let loose beneath her veil. “Who I am” , the answer that echoed back. Hello… I am so glad you are here. You are so beautiful... “The next one” is the answer you seek. Don’t be prideful in belief… © 2011 by mark prime

World Love (Tuesday Nov. 29th, 2011 Head-Lines)

iPhone Combusts Mid-flight End-flight, we seem to begin once again to see ourselves as we were meant to be. Love. Occupy LA asking court to stop eviction End your madness, Humans! It is not Love you seek, it is self. What is humankind’s intended purpose… as our minds bend Love into our monstrous machination? Fort Smith Homeless Shelters See Rising Need End your idleness bowing to corporeal idols, instead, bow to what you know, not what you can squander greedily from Love. Love is not to be parsed. Love is to let flow, beneath the wings of her swims more Love. Oh! Love has our peace! End your warring for that which you cannot possess. End your hostility. End your stupidity run amok… American Airlines files for bankruptcy The skies were empty of metal birds and hell’s machinery. The mountains could finally sleep without all of that noise. Silence, it seemed, fell upon the gleaming and beautiful eartH. The Grandmother was pleased that life could now breathe, and with it,...

We Need a Peace Platform for All Voices

We need a peace platform for all voices. A peaceful conversation on Love, in Love and with respect of all things throughout Love. Let me begin with yesterday, cold wind snapped, took a walk in my mind to the center of Love and found her there. She was sad, eyes of wounds, tears of longing. I asked her if she could ever forgive me. Her maybe was not the answer, it was the truth, what I do with it is up to me. Banjo jump in and rock me hillbilly sideways. I need to come up for air! Been down there too long, time to refresh my memory, ask to be forgiven, breathe my love into her lungs and watch her expression rise beyond man’s sickness, illness that’s crept into Love and held her under like an unjust master. Her suffering is visible. Her eternity spills out onto the streets. I might deliver it to them in the form of an amazing story of Creation’s will and man’s choice. It started out like a scream, my search for answers to the things we need not know, it trembled the beams of man’s l...

Dream Your Dream

I’m here. I’ve not gone anywhere to speak of, but to dream of, to imagine I’m her champion because I spoke of Love. Her undying eternity of Love… You’re late! Where did you think you were? Who did you imagine you were? Why would you supplant belief with something that’s absolutely knowable? The air speaks to the wind to the tree to the leaf to me. Shall I run before it’s too late? Am I alive enough to see what’s happening before it is too late? Dream your dreams, thread them through the eye of your belief. © 2011 by mark prime

The Terrible Ache

That was then, this is now, see the darkness in all eyes, feel the cold scrape of death prodding the tongue to bow… Who are you to put fear within where once there was none? Love held you as you passed, stroked your furrowed brow, she still does if you’ll but care for her, allow her to replace the terrible ache implanted in your mind. This toxic painting is not for sale, she is to be made whole again, or she’ll summon the wind and rain and the quaking surface- The music lights our way. That was then, this is now, time has traveled away, bending knees will stay, eyes speaking of death, ears numbed to the pain, with joy chained up inside, salivating for yesteryear. © 2011 by mark prime

The Wind Across the Encampment

The wind fumbled its frigid paws across the encampment. The coldness just on its way, the ice sneering at its arrival, aren’t we all meant to believe in something? Yes. Yes? That’s the answer? My heart is before you! It is mine. It is the source of all my dreams, if I would but only see her without me. I lay it before you… It’s tricky. Witnessing myself die and have been for nothing wasn’t the easiest thing to experience, yet it’s what has allowed me to recognize where I am, what I am and who I am… And you are there, too! We crowd around the fireplace and smile upon one another with Love in our intentions, kinship in our hearts. Love. © 2011 by mark prime