tracing back to the exact moment when
clothed in cobwebs that shone like gold
you stepped out
in your metal tips boots with a stiletto heel
and spruiked your special brand of *******
demanding fidelity or risk holy coercion

that moment, that was it
the genesis
of fake

tongue dripping with honied venom
in hand your resume, a history spattered with muck
hidden in the fine print and finished with a high legal gloss
and they fell at your feet
dulled by the cloy of perfume
used to cover up the rot

that moment, that was it
the genesis
of fake


@journeyofdays

And Jacob sware by the fear of his father Isaac.
                                               [Genesis 31:53]


Sharp trauma must have lingered on for good

in Isaac’s silent dazed humanity

halted by heaven; trembling laid on wood

too young to question father’s sanity.

Was it a light thing? To be thus withstood

by Jehovah’s awful benignity…

Faltering further up life’s mountain, would

he carry the damage with dignity?

This just might explain the forty-year wait,

meditating on the ram, on his fate.

The paralyzing laughter of his name

even after life unveiled in his tents.

A certain hesitation does make sense

in the son laid out on unkindled flame.

Here's their "knowledge"
Here's the scoop
NOT scuttlebutt... the REAL ****!
Be ye Popeye or Betty Boop
They will draw you in their loop...

This rope will hold you... it ain't loose
You will find it is a NOOSE.

This is interesting to read
Though it's crazy... that's agreed
You'll think these people smokin' ****!

In the beginning there were some thetans
(Interesting that rhymes with SATAN)
They were bored with all the waiting

They were bored. Nothing to do.
These thetans could be me or you
Then... VIOLA... right on cue...
Here's an idea! The other shoe!

YES! Let's PLAY! We'll play a GAME!
It will be FUN! IT HAS A NAME!

M atter. E nergy. S pace. T ime.
The MEST universe! How sublime!
To find it's secrets will cost no dime
But thousands of BUCKS!
Should be a CRIME.

So these thetans all AGREE.
IT WAS THAT AGREEMENT, you see.
The M. E. S. T. Universe. (Smokin' TREE?
Was Ronnie Hubbard on LSD?)
We were AGREED you & me
That this game would then just BE.

Dynamite brains blow off my HAT?
It don't need no S.A.T.
My mind needs no extra watts
To figure out the problem with THAT.

Can you think of ANY COUPLE
Whether married for 60 years
WHO AGREE ON EVERYTHING???

RIDICULOUS.

So there you have it.
Their Genesis
I'll bring you more.
There's quite a list.
But I think you have the gist.

SCIENCE FICTION!!!
Not M. E. S. T. but MISSED!

Catherine E Jarvis
SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/23/2017

I died the night my son became,
Come his cry,
And my promises wept;

     For the whiskey bottle’d pass,
     And now over one empty seat.

I died the night my son became,
Come his grin,
And a mother now exhausted;

     Held was her hand, held was his,
     Before the brothers who now hold spades.

I’d earn life the night my son became,
Come his whimper,
And our eternity now in wait;

     Such neon! Were the hours, so howl,
     Would and could –

          Minus I and newest day we’d become.

God stood
On the edge of uncertainty,
On the brink of creativity, ready
To step off and risk his reputation
On a venture that would be his signature dish.
A world stuffed full of flavours,
A realm ripe with potential
For life, for growth,
...For relationships.
But like all relationships, not without risk.
And so, with a smile of anticipation,
He took a deep breath...
And the rest is history.

You see,
Though unseen, soon
The infection of heaven's rebellion
Snaked it's way in through the gate,
Made friends and prompted a short debate
So subtle that man was tempted to partake
Of an apple that caused trust to crumble
So humankind would from then on struggle
And toil to survive outside that paradise lost
Til Christ stepped up and paid the cost
Of the curse we deserve...

But as a foretaste
Of that greatest sacrifice
God was pleased to accept
Flame grilled substitutes,
Instituting a family repast
With crisp, pleasing aromas
Of juices that provisionally provided
Undeserved forgiveness
And tasted of promise
That the Lord will provide
For a new world
With his own lifeblood.

And Isaac went out to meditate in the field at the eventide:
and he lifted up his eyes, and saw, and, behold …
GENESIS 24:63*

You remember, oh Isaac, the face of the bride

From the Genesis foothills of dreaming’s beginning

Arriving with dusk as the sunset was bringing

The camel-bells music, the end of the ride?

The nomadic return of a hope that had died

Like a riverbed flooding and suddenly greening

A promise fulfilled, flowing into the evening

The song and the rhythm of life undenied…

I remember the landscapes, the names, the dark faces

A golden Havilah of biblical places

the handclapping chants overcoding a mystery.

Timeless recurrence; eternity imminent

Israelite graves I beheld on that continent;

Songs of Rebecca: the morning of history.

There are no words
to describe what You were
what there wasn't
what You had
For words were Your first creation
sounds into a void at once brought into being
thoughts of neverending force
shot forth
in the absence of gravity
never to be taken back