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Mitch Prax Dec 2020
If every person
comes into my life
for a reason then
Does every person
leave my life
for a reason?
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2020
Roll right to zero, give your tanks a stir

Fixed star to fixed star, running counter clockwise to stability

Beckoned and bewildered: first move, second chance

This incandescent satellite, so large and bright in the window

Like pieces of refracted light, infinite bulbs turning on

Empyrean, enveloped in moonshine, rendering them fit to recognize God

And should destiny be lunar luminosity and agile reason (or a seller of love)

I'll take to orbit and go for burn, peering through a mental kaleidoscope

To see the altered anima of my thoughts free from the pull of gravity
old willow Dec 2020
The time I drift, is when I find peace.
When in love, it's hard to find tranquility.
When in rage, it's difficult to reason.
Tranquility even when in love,
Reason in the midst of rage,
how many can?
Reason
Barely could stand
The presence of
Ignorance

But used it
As and when needed
To reason
With the ignorant
Chad Young Dec 2020
Baha'u'llah is the Fire of Being kindled by the snow of
faith, whereas the Spirit is the eyewash of light
upon the prism of the heart.

Notice how Baha'u'llah's Fire of Being is lit in the
conscious mind and not the subconscious mind like the Spirit is.
The conscious mind is a mind without concern for
past or future. It knows no rank and holds no
station. It has no depth or height. It has no design and
holds no symbol.
It knows no support.
It is a mark of crimson. It holds no eloquent speaker, except the inspiration of the heart, and Baha'u'llah Himself.
It knows no plan except 'Abdu'l-Baha's Divine Plan, it has
no mortal guide except Shoghi Effendi's letters.
It carries out the devotion shown to it.
Devotion here is one thing done at a time, and cannot be
sustained except with great desire.
There is no room for impressing someone.
It hath no wisdom save what is stored in the heart.
It sees the world as a child, 100% hope.
Its energy is the ignorance of purity.
Its captain is the invoker of His Word.
It is stoked at the fire of responsibility.
It is drowned by the remembrance of aught except Him.
Meditation on Baha'u'llah's picture
Aa Harvey Nov 2020
Zeitgeist translucence


The spirits are unseen to those who have not felt their presence.
The non-believers will never see them, if they remain faithless.
Without a Heaven to look forward to,
We would have no reason to live right.
God sent us a message of peace; we use it to fight.
We are no longer made of starlight.


(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2020
Knowing only you, and you by no real name,
a guess,
I guess you are the --
or a, one of, the
messages messengers are given to be used as guides,
past
last chances, in to ever's after, where the do no more
stage is set, post ******,
here is where we shall be when the mystery is revealed,
revelation being ever a bugaboo word, for me, re
means do-it-again, try, re-
ally, allied with truth and pointedness as concepts,
nada mas…

mix me, I am insoluble, sift me, I pass through
until the finest resolutions leave me as
subliminal and al-
ready we feel the change. Life going on. Truth.
Growing older at the same pace as the universe.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2020
A radical thought rose to greet me. At the root of this adventure,
there was a dare to defy the unknown holders of keys to gates
and vaults and amphora, sealed to preserve the power of
knowing truth that makes free, by the very knowing.
The secret meanings exposed as conspiracy. Aha.
Readers know of things working together,
line upon line, next after last,
precepts are not commands, but ladder rungs.
Grip first precepts, take hold, know that we do know.
Each of us obeyed... the messenger from truth said read,
that there is ought to read goes unsaid,
be not deceived, that we have received,
accept... thank you... from one alienated mind to another.
This is the most-read piece I have on HP- from August of 2018,
- something changed in the world I share, I dove in to the depths
of the ocean of opinions, and found i could breathe.
----
A pocket of thought, ideas.
Impulses, has beens

epi-phenom-enal-con-currencies-synchron-icity
sorting places, thens and nows vying for attention

you see
we till stories in search of true tomorrows
not true
yesterdays (till, I said, not tell)
we **** the hard rows no one else will ***
so seed lies sown are never lies told, if the lies are never taught
or if the liars are caught before convincing the
intended crop to lie and swear a common liege Lord,
or die
for lack of knowing. Non-nascence, simplest
symptom to not see.
Whose death is yours to respond responsibly
to? My child's, or yourn?
In the early days, we knew less than we know now
about how knowing and growing were all
intended
to cost time. Ticks, ono motto whatever, the sound
gears and spiral springs pushing cogs
tick, one tooth tick at atime make

this rough, un polished, un glossed, is it wrong or

as I imagine a diamond in the rough must seem to a share cropper
experienced in diamond hunting, diamond prospecting,

prospecting expecting inspection to permit
seeing a 3.2 specific gravity,
specific
specify

species or spectacles,
spectators or special-if-eye-cation
value-en-abled. Weigh your mind in balance
with mine. I claim the mind of Christ.
What are the odds?

A wandering path, injoyable enable if-i-abble,
pacing is

everything, timing is everything, time is the test.

Time is the metagame.
Take your time. One word formed sylabble at a time.
Babble on, your confusion makes you mortal, to my mind.
Tick.
A quanta of time. Does time come in bits and pieces cernible,
but undiscernible from reality?

Babble.

Of course, time will tell. We learned that in our sleep, did we not?

Aesop taught us more than Moses, no,
Aesop taught us less than Moses.

But, we could learn to walk bearing the weight of knowing what
Aesop taught,
while we could not stand under the weight
Moses was said
to have taught.

Caught you, Jewboy. Whatchewknow?
The moral of the story.

THE IDEA is to win.
Beware the concision decision.
incisive devices, witty inventions.

Flip the shell, roll the bones, cast the runes and,
as luck might have it, die before your time.

Why factors are lies more oft than how factors.
Benefactors rule malefactors or
how or why would we invest our time in seeking reasons
to believe?

Is this the polished piece, the gemstone of specific gravity
(which currently means nothing to you. Here, you find too light
or too heavy, too weighty on the scale of specific value.)

Hard. Value hard, diamond hard, on Mr. Moore's scaled model of
Knowing exploding for reason's sake, raison d'etre, eh?
Too hard?
Not Mohs,
don't get me wrong.
We been Moore's law breaker all along.
We be manifested destinatory stories of heroes gone wrong.

Outlawed
knowing exploding to be reasoned with, by kind
children destined to become
written in stone, scarred by lies

Diamonds cutting diamonds, iron whetting iron
on eternity's edge.

Babylon, was it Bel's gate or fusion from below rising?

Magma fountains with diamond claws tearing the lands asunder
Is asunder still a word?, let me, allow me to define...
"into a position apart, separate,
into separate parts,"
mid-12c., contraction of Old English on sundran 
Middle English used to know asunder for
"distinguish, tell apart."
From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/asunder>
----

mumbler's humbler PIE, bowing before the knowers who
know nothing of my work.
Set apart, art thou holy aware?

Hermit me, meet the rest of me. The true rest that remained.
We live, you and I. Trust me, next is worth the wait.

Suffer needs no pain to make its point. Waiting is.

Grokk. WHO would believe that idea could live
through telegraphese to be tweet meets for the
Cosplay clans. How never grokked a rock,  why even less.

Strange, not be long in this
place. if
place this be. Odd
set aside
torn asunder
blown away.
Awake, little birdie, tell me true,
what's a man like me to do?

Did you meet the famous Mr. Blake?
I cleaned his chimney, way back when, chimbly's whut
we called em. Smoke stacks belchin' black
makin' black moths invisible to voracious
gulls.
Now the peppered moths are free
to be white-ish, for better or worse.

----

right, now, do right or

miss the mark,
the specific mark you made, maybe,
imagining, abstract obstructions missed
by the skin on Job's teeth as you run past

right now to more. You know?

----=

Story telling was the same as lying when I was a child, to me.

Telling stories was my gift I never took. Or am I lying? or mad,
in the old way.
Chailot's rag picker was my best friend.

No noble thought ever found it's home in my head, once
I thunk it, it stunk to high heaven, for me stinkin' thinkin' it.

Po' ems sang sour to fiddles wit' one strang and drums with no
cymbals
Screamin' he owed m' soul the comp'ny sto' bang bang thud.

I died, he lied, and lived to tell this story, ****** if I know,
****** if I don't.

True as true can be. I am lost, but once was found,
lyin' rough, uncut in acres of unseen gems.
----
* Voltaire refused to teach me any thing I could not define:
late 14c., deffinen, diffinen, "to specify; to fix or establish authoritatively;" of words, phrases, etc., "state the signification of, explain what is meant by, describe in detail," from Old French defenir, definir "to finish, conclude, come to an end; bring to an end; define, determine with precision," and directly from Medieval Latin diffinire, definire, from Latin definire "to limit, determine, explain," from de "completely" (see de-) + finire "to bound, limit," from finis "boundary, end" (see finish (v.)). From c. 1400 as "determine, declare, or mark the limit of." Related: Defined; defining.

So, imagine facets unseen, I am at least a meme, a bubble rising on the tide. Think, as you will. Amen?
That the past two years of public postings have been sorted by popularity, I think, exposes a mental cohesiveness of writer and reader to streams thought. I am a long form meandering storyteller. The story I find in the chance sorting of all I have exposed on HP, is strengthening to me, and I hope to any reader. Not knowing everything about anything is no excuse for not sharing what you do know. Whether life is hard or fair, machts nichts, making each day give account seems to cause things to work together for good.
Hammad Oct 2020
In the battlefield of love
Reason is always the first to fall
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