CONFESSION ZERO

To achieve what war cannot, dislodge the facts, usher in hope and create breath. To create what the warrior cannot, usher in dreams, wage peace, save love. To carry the lode that liars cannot, use words of wisdom, grains of trust and the truth. It is not an issue of one knowing the truth of war, but rather the ability of one not to wage it. Copyright © 2006 mrp © 2012 by mark richard prime

( Our Funny Planet.com ) Love, have her see my worship and let me evermore remember that I'm a steward. If I come back around again in this our race to truth, then so be it, I will remember my lessons from the eartH with which I know or can even begin to recognize my amazing surroundings. Heaven is a word, an emotion in a larger sense, it is and must remain unknown until I can and do again begin to see the basic truths on my way toward the reward of knowing where I am, who I am and what I am... Rejoice! My prayer's been answered. Let her Love you in return that she might offer eternal devotion. I shouldn’t be flying? Maybe Love has no direction, or at least it didn't. Breathe. Inhale, exhale... It's okay for you to tell me. Otherwise, I'd be nothing to you and you nothing to me. My right as a privileged mug, among billions, don't get me wrong, I've been relatively poor my entire life and where I've not much to show in the material sense, it...

( Door Crack Shadow by mandaandapop on Deviant Art ) The freedom that we wanted couldn't bring itself through the gates, so we imagined it pressing its paws to the soil beyond the walls we erected, heard it weeping plaintively just outside of our tiny rooms. Said we could smell it in the breath of every passing spring, spoke of its splendid dance waiting with shoes for our feet. We said we imagined that we heard its velvet voice flecking upon our ears and that we tasted it in the water gracing our lips. After time, the long shadows that stirred beneath our doors began to startle us with their quick and brutal motions, and then they began to console us with their torturous laughter. They never once spoke of freedom, made no mention of its demise. © 2012 by mark richard prime

The curse is that I demand something of others when I should be a silent beast of personal prayer (thoughts) and only speak when the need arises, after that, close my mouth and leave my thoughts to Love. Finally it comes around. I know nothing. I need simply be…

(Photo by my love, Michelle) THESE WORDS ARE MY BELIEF, EVERY WORD I'VE EVER WRITTEN HERE IS MERELY MY BELIEF, MY THOUGHTS, AND NOTHING MORE, CERTAINLY NOT MEANT AS A DOCTRINE OF ANY KIND. MY LANGUAGE USE OF “YOU” AND “THEY” AND “WE”, WAS IN ERROR, IT WAS MY EXPERIENCE AND MY BELIEF, I SHOULD NEVER HAVE ASSUMED I KNEW DIDDLY SQUAT, FOR I DO NOT. (I SHOULD TRUST MORE AND IMAGINE LESS...) I needn’t do it with pride. Pride makes me think of myself too often and my “self” is nothing without love. I do it because I truly believe it. Instead of summoning Armageddon, I must call forth love’s most stunning affections and laughter before my eyes close, never to open again. Reverse course before I lose my reason for having been a child of love. I live. I love. I am. I live. I love. I am. Rinse and repeat. I must challenge my thinking before I challenge love’s as I move over the shattered and dismal streets! And once I feel I’ve made my belief most beautif...

( Chris Keeney | Into the Light ) Oh Love! Now! The time is now to love! For love I must hold the earth most precious and be in awe of her moon, I've not much room to talk, but the spirit's muse is dancing to a different tune! I suggest I heed her call and never forget I'm a child of love, that I might smile upon her as long as I breathe… End all wars! End all murder of the earth! End all folly before all breath is taken away! I must listen. She is gravely ill and needs my aid before her breath comes full force with all her weight and her acid tears fall upon my head. Am I listening? Am I listening? Am I listening? It is time… Love demands me to act, yet the earth still suffers… I feel more anguish for my part in her looming death than for all of the other grief I’ve caused or carried. I love each of you my brothers and sisters and I will not tarry. If this and that are what I choose to be, bless you and shame on me....

My fear has created a riddle, the fear of who I was and who I was becoming in the middle. I imagine I was selected because of my pride, my greedy paws clouting spirit’s for too many years. I understand rage, I understand me and I love you and abide. I have chosen my own fate and love has granted me my belief. This is home to me and I’d best get to understanding my great fortune soon or she’ll not reveal herself to me, instead she’ll close up shop for the next season of angels.  Tragedy never felt so tragic. My wife and I have chosen our own fate... love above all else. She saved me from myself and granted me my belief, I in turn have saved her from my former self and she is rising now. She gave me the “time” to find my singular self and loved me all the while. ...She is. I might choose whether this is home or whether this is agony, but either way, I'm still upon the earth with love. It was always up to me to...