The salt said, What's my job?

kenpepiton Poems

Say I know, no question, what the Good News was, the Jesus good news, but nobody believes that. And its free good news. Who pays me? Think Gaiman's American Gods, true believers everywhere, no truth, no free ificity, sufficient, suffice, artifice, artificial freedom, if you can't imagine artificial freedom, how do u test AI? we can imagine all sorts of hells, and miserable lost evers all phantoms from the stories you've believed believed by the tellers who told you you were naked. Is this a theme? Are we manufacturing sensible un-believable idle word redemption tools. DIY? No App? Empowering the believers to unbelieve, at will, with effort? Very little effort, but yes, My calling, yes, previous to full-time Peacemaker. I e-merge several streams of thought, gentle, --- un belief is, it hurts like you imagined hell, almost exactly. Monetize your lies, who said do that? you don't believe them do you? The ones you tell Where you know prayers are answered Because You know sorta. Knowing a thing is so, you know, defining. Be and lieve together they make a meaningful you know Re-ifing and de-ifing, being a believer in whom is no guile, is that actable. Could a thespian make us believe he believes what I believe if he were me? Is that in the bible, that walk a mile as me proverb? It's true, if you do it, in your head or mind, if you think mind ain't matter or doesn't matter, okeh. I don't. D'I ever tell you about the time I realized I was safe, lazy days o' summer, way back when was no TV, no video nuthin, then when I woke, I was here as sure as I am, that I know next to nothin for sure, and for a blameless, shameless old man, who catches Jesus winkin' in his thinkin' ever day, ' cain't say damday and asaid it anyway. It's about time I tell my story, if that is my job. My story means the story I tell, the one I think I believe I know and enjoy. Tellin' it, I en joy en trance, never thrall. Life is predominantly fun. Empiric evidence. Take it, by faith, we all know how, we laugh and say we don't, but we are lost with out it, no hope. Oh, my God, desperate for you. They sing that, they call such singing praise. Somehow they have come to believe Christ has left them desperate for any good things, forsaken them after promising other wise Who would teach a chile such a song in Jesus's whole body, I swaneee Hopeless, t's what desperate means, desperados are not disciples of the tendency to a bias toward good, by grace. nosireee --- Can I speak living words, is that living water flowing from me, if I agree with the story I am telling, Yes, all the promises of God. Come let us reason, we are past the scarlet sin. Sin means disconnect in today's terms, missed aimed-at-thing's the original Greek expression that made it to the Bible. And a blog is as good as a book, some say, as far as words are concerned, meaning-wise but spoken words go farther, these days. Rhetoric is returning to try men's souls, and the peasants have Google and IDW (Intellectual Dark Web wuwu) and the real Bible Daniel and Ezra 'n'em put together from all the sources they could muster under the banner of Lest we forget. Was that the banner spoken of by the prophet so and so? Could be. Runner-up th'pole 'n'see who kneels. Emoji winks are too cheezy for real poetry, you never see 'em in songs. Jesus winks but not at your-my disconnection from re-ality. We can't be **** Sapience Sapience if we don't think about thinking. The unexamined life's not worth living, old Greek guy saying. Jesus saying, as a man thinks, so is he. And I think he was talking about good and evil. A man can think good and evil, but (and this is one of those forever buts I mentioned last time I was thinking on this thread), evil can't swallow good. No matter how long it chews. Funny, really, how stuff works. We all live until, as far as we do know now, time for conscious mortal me, each of us in this we, me ceases. De-sist, recall the way it feels to lay your armor down and know, I ain'tagonnastudy war no more. But, we are called, chosen to fight the good fight of faith, Amen. Ah, men, we ain't got enemies. We fought. You believe you believe or you don't. Have fun and don't make anybody miserable and stand up straight, with your shoulders back, good advice. Next. There is a reason to go farther, I think, but don't know right now, what that reason is. Praying being asking for assistance in persistence, I am praying this is plain, past simple, plumb to sublime.