CONFESSION ZERO

The coloring books The finger paints The child's hands The cherub's face The artist's Muse The (H)eartH's canvas Beneath the sky's richness Perfection is born God desires we learn More than we teach More than imagine it's so God desires we know All children are precious All Life is The Child of God Best we learn and remember. (Yes.) Yes. Yes. Yes. As I find myself known God awaits my prayers You seek my awakening The Child seeks my care Each and all, gifts to share Forgiven... © 2016 Mark Richard Prime

Children of Creation God is not dead We're coming back Coming back to Life Rise Rise Rise The voice of God Comes not in word At least not to Me The truth rings a birdsong The tongue of Creation Rumbles a familiar vibration Speak now I beg 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 We begin to quake Rising up On Home's behalf Rising for the Mother For the child, for Life For all others Darkness speaks With the other side Of light Man, Woman, Child I am He is She is We are Walk to the quaking light Enter the voice of God A language unknown Yet not undetectable Inflection's New directions Build it up inside No need to hide The voice unfolds A constant turntable Round and round again God's got the truth Won't give it away We have to find it Seek the rumbling Stone The Oceans, the Air The Valley's of Home It never-ends There is no time To the tongue of God God's got mine I'm fine A rattled cage Is old news to me Already p...

I'm not the only one that knows The truth of our story I know without knowing Can't explain intuition's dance in my head There's a lion in the ring and I'm roaring This story unfolds like an accordion Only with violin strings for vibration I'm not due a solo I'm due a dance with all You and you and you Join hands and glide the spirit Into a circle and sing like we mean it The snow may not make it this year Home has other plans, my dear I went too far, tumbled too low We tumbled, too Lost the truth of all we knew Tumblin' down the rabbit hole Smiling on our things made of Home Laughing at brother and sister Bombs made of fearful whispers Hushed in their descent Loud at detonation Battle hymns require little explanation When they begin to play You better run Bombs don't wait They don't wait RUN! RUN, CHILD! RUN! The bombs are falling in the silent night RUN, MOTHER, RUN! The bomb's igniting death RUN ...

Lock them away instead of teach them to be free Shackle their ankles and wrists Put apathy in their lunch Between History and Economics Let the bell ring They're not going anywhere © 2015 Mark Richard Prime, I am.

It is not possible to end one's chosen path, the only way to do so would be to begin to dismantle his thoughts to steer clear of appearing to be one of God's children! Hello. Love an d Peace, at your service. (Get lost!) Can do, but that is not a nice thing to say to someone who's in search of themselves, in search of the truth, sometimes, Prime, ya just gotta say I give in to your demands of all confusion, God was speaking to Peace, to Mark Richard Prime, nothing else, but what vivid hue I paint upon its source. © 2015 Mark Richard Prime, I am.

(Surely someone knows the truth of God?) Nope. ~~~ I'm now in prayer, always now in prayer, story-mode for the masses, save one, I'm in actual-mode. The floor rumbles now, the ceiling from below, The child plays on the floorboards of Paradise. Bless the children of (H)eartH, bless their Home. Rise up now stewards, lift your wings skyward that the children might know they are safe! ~~~ (Surely someone knows the truth of God?) Soon. © 2014 Mark Richard Prime

The group of children that ride their bikes and walk about the Vineyard neighborhood area have from time to time stopped by the garage or the garden to have a chat, to ask me how I am doing, it is always nice to see the youthful spirit and its spirited romp with nothing particular in mind to do but simply be. We adults should have always remembered, but... I am terrible with names so I thought I'd give them a name for the group and call them each the derivative of the group name. After much deliberating and laughter about certain names the children grew restless and decided to leave it to Me, this middle age man that some have called teacher, to which I am certainly not worthy, but be that as it may, they were all sitting in one of the driveways and it came to me what I would call them, The Peacemakers! They loved the idea and so it is, The Peacemakers, I mean, do we not want the child to represent what we adults need? I think it is best to imagine that it is so, and so it is. ...

A child of Humanity. A child of Creation. A child of God. A child. Must there be reason to share such Love, a certain color to denote such worthiness, to sense within such cherub's Peace, the recognition of God? If so... let us sense ours within theirs, it beats our sightless dismissal. Let us join together with the child, learn of ourselves in them, be their human saviors, in doing so, our own. © 2014 Mark Richard Prime

Or we could just learn from the children, they question everything already, it is we that stopped that particular part of our nature. © 2014 Mark Richard Prime

We are the children's parents. We owe it to all children, all youth, to rise to their cause of freedom which coincides with ours, which utilizes Peace and Love to find our balance that such things as this do not occur without understanding, without a fundamental change to our roles as stewards... ~ Never underestimate the youth's ability to understand on a deeper level than We adult's knee-jerk criticisms of a natural and loving act. I would caution many adults about seeing such a movie, because until we understand that our purpose is to Love, without defining it into oblivion, we will continue to be shocked at the diverse ways of expressing it... We'll put up with graphic violence in our imagery and in our reality, but not graphic love, flesh, God forbid we feel something other than war and murder and the living dead. Let us have love and compassion for our fellow vessels. Just war and zombies will be the end of us, not scenes of a sexual nature, graphic or othe...

Perhaps if we believed more in our own ability to create new viruses and bacteria that inflict suffering, we'd stop creating new viruses and bacteria that inflict suffering? © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Let them be illuminated in their thinking, the harsh light of industry is not for learning. Learning is within. It matters not where or how the light enters, it matters that it enters... © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime The Dark Side of Education

Dear feminine spirit, do not assume that I am not a fiddle and you the bow. (What do you know?) Dear masculine spirit, remember the instinct is the strongest defense humans have at their disposal, it can overwhelm our reason because we've forgotten our way, thinking we know one damn thing about how this all unfolds. Preposterous. Be. Boom Boom! A union of Booms, Boom boom let's come out to play in the daylight and the night, let's brush up against one another's spirits in and out, upside to brightside up... © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Father's, Mother's, do not let your children proudly go off to war... © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

The boy who cries in the photo is Diego Frazao Torquato, who played the violin in the String Orchestra of the Afro Reggae. Afro Reggae is a non-profit organization that gives kids hope and an escape from their impoverished and crime ridden environments. The occasion was the funeral of his social project coordinator, Evandro João Silva, who was murdered in downtown Rio. Diego contracted meningitis at age four, aggravated by pneumonia, and struggled with memory difficulties. He still managed to learn the violin. Diego, born and raised in the slums of Parada de Lucas, dreamed that the violin would take him to see the world. Sadly, shortly after this photo was taken Diego died of leukemia. At Diego's funeral José Júnior, the coordinator of Afroreggae stated, "I think the legacy of Diego is hope, it is the willingness to change, to transform". Photo Credit: Marcos Tristão Full story: http://tinyurl.com/c3b4yjd ~ The strings vibrate with Love's story. Listen. Wi...

"The timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness. And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream." __Khalil Gibran Yesterday’s been here, a repeat of the past whose dream’s already arrived, only louder than before. Today is nearly gone, slipped of war's plan, loosed of its lethal explosion, ready to come again. Tomorrow's set to enter, a future of wounds set to drag their newest scar over the children’s tombs. What of now? © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Bomb. Bomb. Bomb. Bomb. Bomb! We disregard that we don't know death. Occasionally we stop thinking about the bomb silent in its descent, much like death. Sometimes only a murmur dropping in the air, sensed in our unbending march. Splitting children like atoms in a lab, their mother’s wailing death after them. We sense the bomb long after its fallen, now motionless, shrapnel standing at attention, immersed inside the face of horror. It aches too much for us to re-imagine, so we don’t, we see another movie, hear another song, play a different game, brains deadened, eyes closed to the noise found in war. O! What a belief we've crafted of our bombs! © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

And then we engage in truth. Sounds like a forbidden forest, so why was it ever forbidden? The belief in another person's spirit, all persons. Be in tune with your fate and your Forgiveness. The more full Love and Laughter that carves our name in our bodies absence, the more our spirit remains loving. You were instructed of this at your birth- Careful what you imagine you are doing when you are young and irrational of fate of my Love and Forgiveness. I'm but seconds away from my remembering, after tracing so many steps backward toward the light of Love's illumination. I must strive to bring forgiveness along to guide me. The (H)eartH's just my beginning! Rejoice in that idea, spiritual fact- forgiveness was in her absence. I imagined she should certainly come along with me in this quest to salvage my one chance at belief, to rise to something greater than my self; Truth, Life, Love and Laughter. I keep repeating it, the thing that is most precious in my belief,...

Happy Veterans Day. Pin a heart on us, the living, we, the warring. The deceased have more breath than our breathing. Emblems of our emptiness and weakness puncturing hunger’s sleeve with dreary brooch. Cackling our minute’s final gasp with warring, weak idols pinned to proud chests, unfilled, all. Pin sweet thoughts upon the dull, not pennants of gluttony, empire, warfare and oil. Whilst our children die for those already dead let us begin anew with this-the worlds flagless living. © 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Don't be so demanding of the children that they learn the same as you and I, be careful what you teach another as if it's fact, especially that which from any truths you supposedly know is an extension beyond your knowing... © 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime