CONFESSION ZERO

Here is the truth. The brutal truth, for the truth's collected a few barnacles from our pungent fledgling creation's residue... © 2015 Mark Richard Prime

The truth is. The truth has to be. The truth is what the constant flux is moving us toward Heaven, for how else dusmd we imagine it would begin? (At the end?) There is no "end", this is the never-end. (It'll never end?) No. It'll change. Death is not an end, it is a new beginning! Ha! What a lovely thought! 💚✌️ © 2015 Mark Richard Prime

This is how the echo goes, it trails on past anything that's agonizing and moves it into something that is heavenly, for how else could it be my friends that we are here in the least if not to salvage the damage we've done and are doing to Home and our Kind, all Kind. There's a private shame in that we need to reckon with and cleanse ourselves, all others, all things cleansed as intended. Then our celebration can begin, not the celebration of the self, but a celebration of all life! Celebrating good times will come if we'll but cleanse our own foul use of the planet right where we are... Do so and hear the song begin... Do not be afraid, says the Wind. Do not be afraid of the song, set all sights to Heavenly and we shall be made to act accordingly... © 2015 Mark Richard Prime

Happy I am that next one, I am he. I am. Me. Come walk along with me, I know where this path is going… Mark Prime… or whoever you want me to be, but silent about what is pouring through my every fiber. I am the next one... The next to try and second guess God. Damn it! I am a marionette for my own sake! See God has my spirit, my friends, despite who lingers behind the curtain... Savior? Not quite yet. If I am to be a better savior than the last, God said, you'll have to tell a better story, otherwise it'll be both hell and Heaven. So I did the only thing I could have done, was tell the better story, so I chose the story of my truth, or should I say I waited and then changed, just in time to latch on to the final thread of truth. I chose my story to be the truth, long ago, yes, but now it's ever present to the person I am today, now.  I've thrown what little caution I had to the wind, that's about the same time that fear latched on to my feet and began to w...

(Is there a place for war?) Hell. (I thought you said there was no such place as hell?) The only hell that I know of is the one where we craft our own agony, not eternally, but certainly. We manifest what we believe in beyond doubt, especially that of a fearful belief, such as hell.  This is not "hell" as in "eternal damnation", this is the agony of our fledgling creations. We have built grand inventions and saved many lives, but our genius is lost when it comes to our invention of War (hell on (H)eartH) instead of the Truth of Heaven waiting for its many saviors! Rise up with me and usher in Peace as a collective!  It matters not who or what, it matters that we act in earnest toward the goal of Peace and Love on (H)eartH. We're on the yellow brick road, my dear friends. We're in motion, with or without our will, let us, as a collective, rise up in our deeds and lift the veil on Heaven! On the Truth of Heaven waiting on its many savior...

What surrounds us throughout our day sticks to us, becomes us, absorbed by atmosphere, vibrations, energy. We are, as it turns out, energy, how fortunate for our evolution toward (H)eartH's vibration, our evolution toward one another- and harmony enters... © 2015 Mark Richard Prime

WRITING THE STORY WITHOUT FALLING DOWN... CHAPTER ONE: This story is a short trip into madness... A long haul into our echo to stave off what's surely coming...  The ridge line glimmered as the sun got dressed for the day-tripping across the universe. You'd have to be crazy to see it otherwise, perhaps it's just me?  (Who's crazy?)  Yes. (Join the club, Poetryman.) Why me? (Shit, boy! You know the answer to that weak kneed response!) Why not? (Eureka! The boy's catching on like hot cakes with peanut butter! In the wind, Scribbler, just relax and go in hot, brother, have that spirit of Love enter in with you and you're sure to find it a joy...)  She is with Me. Think.  (Yip.)  CHAPTER TWO: The ridge line beat a trail into grooves, beams of light glancing off of the next command of God: you become pointless if you don't speak! But then the same might be said of your silence. The chirp of night leaked...