The Beauty Of Wisdom And Intelligence,
You are seen in the Cosmic Reality herself,
You are the female part of Christ, called Wisdom and Intelligence,
Your Cosmic Math's is a beautiful thing to behold,
That a unlearned person like me who loves sports like me who is too unlearned in the world's eyes to understand the beauty of the Math's of the Cosmic Reality herself,
So only the real genius mind's understand your true beauty in the Cosmic Reality herself,
But I was good enough at math's at college to get a 98% in a test score and student tutored a girl in class called Bev.
But Wisdom and Intelligence; you really enlightened great minds like Newton, Einstein and Hawking's?
So Wisdom and Intelligence hear my simple math's plea, I am alone and the math's of Wisdom and Intelligence say's its not right for man to be alone?
So make the one alone into two and then the two become one again?
So my math's is simple and unlearned by Wisdom and Intelligence's mathematical eyes; but its the most beautiful sum in the Cosmic Reality herself?
So Wisdom and Intelligence says I've done the math's?
I've marked your sum; I have graded your test paper A+ and gifted you a younger sister bride to be the sum of sums for all eternality,
This younger sister bride will never divide her love for you,
Because one divide into two should stay two, but by theoretical mathematician's the two become the perfect nought number of one raised to nought or zero power nought or zero is one for all eternality,
You shall always be one in body, heart, mind and soul,
You will always have Wisdom and Intelligence tutoring you about the beauty in the Math's of the Cosmic Reality herself,
But never forget to look up at the star's, nebula's and galaxies together and the two who are one see the Math's of love in each other's eyes and the math's of love in the Cosmic Reality herself.

I seek greatness,
Not perfection but
Something more.
I want jagged edges,
And symmetry long broken.
I want rhythm and beat,
rhyming galore, but flowing,
so fleet, off the tongue of my keyboard,
into your minds, drilled bore
never to be filled but left void,
never to be lit up or explored
save by my depravity, the
wanton insanity that is my quest
for eternality, for remembrance
for the suddenness by which
a heart attack do prance
tip toeing around your soul,
twisting it in, and lithely
make you beg for the encore,
even still won't be satisfied,
I'll become who I am,
The best version of myself,
Ravenous, more, than any lion,
Tiger, or engorged man,
Nay, even if I look down upon highest perch,
like The Raven itself,
Even if Poe himself, were to raise up again,
Weeping, claiming oh, John, your poetry,
Nay, your beating, has me breathing,
Still will I deny that drum,
Even then will I be empty,
and so this emotion that I am releasing,
Will self servedly do nothing,
You can not destroy that which is not living,
Only close your eyes, and forget quickly,
For if you let my greatness roam,
Oh upon your shoulders I will loan,
my delicious insanity upon the world,
And the toll my greatness,
shall collect,
will be worth more than all the gold.
And I'll simply just,
waste it away,
In search of some greatness,
greater still!
Some vision, some sign,
that is meaningless except,
like happiness,
In the pursuit, never to be found.

bare it straight...

the knight-fool referenced here,
me, scrabbled, scrambled writer,
moat-surround builder,
petard hole-blower in walls of captivity.
letting those inside out,
letting those outside in...

all the beloveds from
ailments hurtful,
in and ex ternality
fearful of eternality

guise of knight errant,
salve and solve,
two pocket protectors,
needy, downtrodden, love-hurting,
slip inside and hide till ready
to come out on acceptable terms

entrapped, locked down and in,
show me the walls for to break,
make the solitary unobligatory
hands holding you will lead us,
all writ on clean new chance foolscap
open sourced coded for sharing

knock knock knock
come calling,
my calling...
to come...

Sometimes I was the one responsible for your tears
Sometimes you were responsible for my tears
Sometimes I was the blame for the pain you suffered
Sometimes you were the blame for the love that was never discovered
I wish you were the one losing sleep over the love you lost
I wish you were the one losing focus to what was more than a thought
I’m the one who’s supposed to cry, I’m the one who’s supposed to be broken
You wanted Foreverness, I gave you eternality
Tried building us up but you pulled us down like gravity
You’re bringing up mistakes I made to tarnish what we established
Trying to perfect a game plan that was never practiced
We put each other in this space to which we don’t wanna be
I was hoping to marry your love but you didn’t see a future with me
From blowing each other up to missed calls & unread texts
Pushing you away due to a broken heart that I’m trying to protect
You didn’t trust someone like me, I was too good to be true
I’m watching you walk away while falling deeper in love with you
I wish you could believe me when I say crying isn’t easy to do
Especially when the tears I shed are because of you

(For one)
I don't want
(to know more of)
the way seconds never cease colliding into
(something, either external or internal to)
others in a rippling shimmer of
(the consciousness, is)
moments that never possess the finality
(a divine madness of quantification.)
which we cry of to
(The Ego, who comparatively weighs)
others in re-tellings of
(self against anything not defined by)
our lives. This
(the chemical current of self-awareness,)
is a truth too often refused
(in accepting such divine madness)
from our emotional responses
(begins a spewing tornado of self deterioration)
to physical objects
(as the universe which contains self)
and our fluctuating position
(begins to fully exist.)
to them. Yet, in that
(As the universe is more fully known)
i live in a continual agony
(by constructs of the conscious self,)
which knows not the ceasing satisfaction of
(the increasingly perceived universe, which begins to outweigh)
the total fulfillment of
(constructs of self,)
a singularity of identity in space and time,
(makes existence appear impossible)
are the screams of my eternality.

I have been on the road for so long, what's it been,
"Weeks,
"Months,
"Moments?
Who knew,since magi had birthed on to the world chaos
Had ensued on a global playground. I remember an old movie

"God I miss the movies,  
"With power there is responsibility of will,

Will power was the key, if you were ill of conviction
It consumed you, each burnt different. I remember
Seeing some gathered when it took upon them.

It was like a rainbow, like spirits ignited. momentary
Beauty in all aspects. Then the screams, like they were
Aware that it wasn't just their bodies but that they were
Burning soul, flesh all was consumed in magi flame.

I don't know if you could call it good or evil but it was
Survival, the old ways were obsolete. There we norms,
And enlightened? if you could call us that, words even
Simple ones were amazing, imbued with essence power.

Some only had to think and auras of essence flickered
On steady hands, it was amazing, with movements
That flowed weaving intricate designs synergies were
Compelled and movement and words became as one.

"Jesus I hate walking though the old city streets,
"I can sense their essence,
"Enlightened can sense each other in some degree,

The decay in these majestic building so many vacant
White tombs, they fed of the residual aura of what happened
That day, many were set ablaze mass funeral pyres.

"The skies glowed red for days,
"Flames touching the heavens themselves,

There is much anger in these places mortal, and enlightened
Steer clear, in the night as auras permeate the surrounding

"I hear something?
"Hello who goes there,

Words I hear even though not spoken. These are dark
Even more than the midnight sky I walk under.

"I hear you, show yourself,

"Aren't we a powerful little one not many can hear unspoken,
"These places are a playground of rage and anger,

He had such a arrogant tone, I have seen others like him.
Thinking they have a right to taunt the dead with promises
Of life, but it is unfounded. They are just puppets on entrains
Strings bonded with words. Sealing them, suffocating within.

"I have no fear of your creation,
"You have twisted a gift, made it unclean,
"The dead should serve no one let them rest,

My words go unheeded, I know this will be a fight to the
End, only one will make the journey onward on this path.
I scrunch my fingers, each cracking, ready in anticipation,
In knowing what is to come. I sense the fluctuation around.

From beneath the ruins of what looked like a heavens building
(Skyscraper) it bellowed forth eyes aglow. I sensed its
Consumed resentment of slumbers awaking, it grabbed
What was twisted beams of rusted metal and rock.

"Be gone slumber once again in ethers sleep,

I tried a banishment spell as the words first too weak
For the anger that breathed.

"The first angel sounded his trumpet, and there came light
And chains Mixed with purity , and it was hurled down onto
The earth a prison of release is cursed!"

" Your in over your head little girl.

But I noticed upon its brow glyphs of resistant's, this arrogant
One, not so as I had thought. I noticed from where it clambered
The fallen of before, I was not its first battle. Maybe I would
Not be its last, calm thoughts as it swung nearly taking me apart.

"I will dethatch this creation from this realm,
"It will slumber in eternality's evermore,

Spells I eased on thought and hand,

"Flames entwined on wicks birth, feel rages creation  
From earth, burn in silence burn in air, enlightened in
A suns extinguished birth,

The air crackled as earth turned red, molten rock,
Erupted and white bone crackled under the heats
Relentless grip, now for the opposite to shatter its curse.

"Winters howl beckon my call, A single snow flake shall fa,

I do so hate being interrupted I heard his words spoken,
In silence. A blinding glyph summoned forth. I had moments
To defend, or unseen was my fate and then deaths hand would
Grant what this thing was unwittingly birthed to heed.

"Let light blaze the mists of unseen thoughts, let there be
Sight be seen no darkness's curse,  

Now I'm angry, what kind of arrogant, egotistical **** hole
Thinks that they can do that to me. Time to finish this, I
Use what I have learnt mastered well, I was one of those
In womb when magi birthed. We are only few but we are
As part imbued not only in word but bloods life essence.

"Winters howl beckon my call, A single snow flake shall fall,
Shatter on earth like glass you will keep,

It was a hard thing to do but to meld two thoughts as one,
I worded it in strength first freeze them then eternities tomb.
"Only to be used on undead,
Never the living as it would fold back and dam the herald that
Spoke the words to a fate worse than death.

"Winters howl beckon my call, A single snow flake shall fall,
Shatter on earth like glass you will keep,
"Let that which was twisted now be granted eternities tomb,
"Earth calls upon your slumber now be granted,
Rest in the toils of soils keep,

And with that moment it shattered as earth creaked and took
What was taken now in its tomb of slumbers keep.
Where darkness was birthed souls rested and bones neat.
We took our paces drained where both as such focus needed.

"Your abomination conceded to a fate worth its keep,
"Now its only us do you concede to fates wish,

It was a long shot but you never know, maybe he would of
Conceded in graceful defeat. "So going to fight dam,
His muttering edged forth a spirit blade, we all have an
Aura and our physical presence births the colour of
Physical forces we bring into our world,

"What a big sword you have, compensating for much,
(I giggled loudly, he asked for that)

"Magi filth, I will end you as my pet failed my will,
"I have taken many and will take many more,

Flames of onyx and luminosity bathed the surroundings
As each of us gauged each others strengths, his blade
Glanced on my arm , searing pain greeted as veins
turned black. We fought I glanced upon his self, but he
Just looked smiled and ****** time after time at myself.

But he was weakening to much had he relied on spirit
And not himself. I ****** upon his being in one last fatless
Blow, His sword shattered in shards of spirit he was cut.
He bleed slowly not blood but essence of himself.

"This cant be your but a girl,
"I will beckon my spirit to the fallen I will live on,

"Can you hear my thoughts?

"No why would I need to heed your contemplation,

"I just sealed your thoughts none shall escape,
"You will pass into the ether there to stay,

"I will not go like this, do you realize who I am,

"A dead man,

And with that I walked off no longer a threat, just a
Dying magi, with moment left to contemplate what
Was done. A noise heard as I walked off, I thought
Of not turning, of not giving satisfaction on a fallen.

"What do you wither about, in dignity fade out,

But my eyes did see what ailed him so, for where his
Essence did bleed upon the patch his creation fell in
Earth it rested but it wanted one more to join its kin.
Swallowed up then silence and gone. He joined those
That had heeded his worded will.

"Daylight beckoned as I walked on the city even though
In ruin had a certain beauty in its collapse,

I walked onwards nursing wounds with word, healed
But still hurt. That was a battle I wish not to repeat. I just
Want to wonder and meet those of norms and magi and
Live in harmony and peace. But remember all, there is
Much power in the world with word and thought.

I rang the door bell as I step in the front of the door,
And gaze upon my work iPad to check for work order notations.

As I scroll upon the repair ticket,
there was bold letters,
And it read "ATTENTION Technician,
be patient with the customer,
She went through medical procedure!"

I hear a faint female voice from afar end of her house,
stating she was coming!

Inhaled dawning air with chill in my lung
While exhaled steam and vapor from my lips!

Never knew waiting per minute can feel like eternality,
And my surrounding became more intensified with movement of breeze!  

After waiting for 5 minutes,
finally the door opened,
And the lady was in her robes,
But had her hair done and make up on.
Customer then asked me where was the original installer,
And she specifically asked for his return.
She spoke with few pauses,
And slight fragmented sentences,
Then proceed to tells me she had a stroke,
And plead that I would be patient with her!

Already I wasn't her expected technician,
And I knew I had a large shoe to fill with her disdain,
While dealing with her medical situation!  

As I started my trouble shooting processes,
I asked for more information,
And explore the cause of system failure!

Knowing I needed to give her comfort during her dialogue,
I gave her my nods,
and listen to her intently.
While trying to get to the point,
But spoke less to avoid confusing her.
Until I can drop her guards,
And have a normal conversation during repair process,
So there wouldn't be awkward pauses!

Slowly but surely she began to tell me little bit about herself,
How she met husband from her friends,
And she was originally from Sri Lanka.
How lonely she gets in Kentucky not having real friends,
And in my mind I could only related to her circumstance,
But I over came it by finding my inner peace,
Which is finding a home in the present moments.

Knowing the struggle to understand what it meant to be a nationalist,
Or assimilating into American culture,
I began by asking her where is her comfort zone,
Or who makes her comfortable?

She tells me her husband,
and how much she loved him.

So then your husband is your home I told her,
And I let her know home isn't a four wall with a roof,
But it is a moment in present giving her comfort of a home.

at this moment,
my thought process became like a cat,
And like a cat my curiosity needed to be quenched.
I asked how she got the stroke.

There was a holding breathe from her,
And then her emotions erupted.
"I have a brain tumor" she tells me,
Accelerated by her cancer.
I don't know how long of a time I have left,
And her uncertainty of her life made her more afraid.
There was a desperateness in her tears.
I wanted to give her a hug,
And give some relief from her anguish.

In that moment of her desperation,
My training from senior housing kicked in.
Changed my subject back to her comfort zone!
"Please, tell me more about your husband I asked,
How did you two meet?"

She starts to get her composure back,
And wipes her tears.
As she spoke I see glistening of her eyes,
And she spoke with love.

After I finished with my repair
and heading out of the customer's house!
The lady thanked me
and then told me she wanted to tell her husband about home!

I gave her my smile,
Then lightly tapped on my chest with my palm,
then moved my hand onto my head.
Reminder to her,
home is in your heart and mind!

Its not silver nor gold, but to share an conversation with you.
While we are dining at the Feast of the Saints in heaven above.
My desire is not to get so many prizes from our Creator above.
But it is to see and hear all that Christ has done for you here.
At the Feast of the Saints when we meet in the heavens above.
For we shall have all eternality to share with one another.
The things that he has done for each of us , this is my prize.
To hear that each of you are joining me in the next life.
For my heart is for people not material things that get throw away.

You are a cavity
filled with whirlpools
a cancerous repetition of nebulas
pirouetting to a tone
you do not understand
any longer

there is no smile nor frown
only frozen veins,
traced to the point of
eternality,
fragile in its familiarity

tears do not have any place here
so you bleed it inside and
endure the frost bite

a never ending winter
who had forgotten its lover
shivering despite the
numbness
spreading like a forest fire

they say that there is no cold,
only the absence of
warmth

Ruination gathers pace
colliding on empathy
no one cries.

Static thoughts tear
but linger eternality
cry for me.

Irrelevant emotions descend
no fissures expand,
emotions are un-moistened.

When I hear the word “forever,”
I become cautious.

I’ve heard the word many times.

And each time that word is tested,
Its eternality becomes more finite
And its timelessness reveals an expiration date.

*- j.m.

The politics after the remnants in the ragged serpents of Aerse flowed through the Cefiso, by way of a section of linking of clear and effulgence before an evident flash that enveloped him of being a cardinal priest of bucolic policies of all the nearby Athenian regions, towards vertiginous regressive parapsychology, like flashback Elusino or Anadromí sto Parelthón Eleusia, where the visualizations between Aerse and Lochnith, happen by omniscient geopolitical induction of biofeedback that re-agency the inclinations of both, for the purpose of their geomorphological foundation and for the purpose of instituting them as evocation backbones of millennia, providing feedback and settling on prophecies from the 8th century bC, stop of the ends and interprocess of eternality of the incognito mystery that began to be clarified with the reinvented personality of Aerse in amendment of Life and Expiration experienced with Lochnith in the month of Boedromión, fleeing from a federated Re-Polis that would unify dimensionality of substance and sacred space Eleusinian with Lochnith nascent warmongering for the purpose of recruiting in the Hexagonal Primogeniture, for assistance and indissoluble ephemeris of edification and hegemony of the Megaron in Patmos. This thanks to the ragged serpents, but nesting hopes of gold in the nests that give priority to the dimensionalities of peers, which will be consolidated as a reality of rite and E-cloud flashback space, for the convenience of retro-future parapsychological memory, In economy of two blocks of resignation of the Sacred Space repealed, but in geomorphological consensus, for Military command jambs towards Vernarth, as a forged pulsing ***** of the sacred cult, in the mysterious nature and territorial domesticity to come from Aerse, for the purposes of the Agoras re-nucleating the metaphysical messengers that reinstitute the re-polis; but in a field of worship of E-Cloud, in civic and cyber-organic action, for those who virtually recognize the Ablution in the multidimensional of hands calling the unknown, but with ardent passion to receive him even while guarding against further vibrational mutations with the Faskéloma or exasperation of hands that move the indigo in occasional sub-vibrations, in the tendency of a parity of the Sacred Space of Gethsemane, in disaster of passing the aqueous levels of the Cephysus, in ordinal of presumptive of unreal and sub-unreal worlds.

The parapsychology of the Space of quadrilateral teas of absorption and of erratic emotional meditation lies here enshrined in Aerse molecules, which were still received by the substances intra-exposed and extra-gates of the body, experiencing an absolutely unprecedented phenomenon, towards an immune-spiritual transit, preserving eccentric radii of concentration of refurbished chromatic rays, in a field of mental daring towards another of unprecedented and electrogenic mental force that dissipated between Aerse and Eurydice, who came near the Coasts of Patmos, coming from theoretical planes between both metaphysically flowed for unions and restraint. The ebbs of their statics jumped, for simultaneity and bilocation, endo electro-Eleusines who went exorbitant to other rollers uncrossing in body margins that concelebrated the quantum crankshaft and fiber kindness in arresting inter-women, such as teleportation and rescue of rituals in scheduling and seasonal astrological forecasts.

Lochnith says: “in the proximity of mortuary reality, there will be no repair outside of our body of geography and of our losses and harvests or of lives in sub or supra quantum transit, blinding the eyes of unknown erudition, while our contraption is self- it obstructs in our interactions and electromagnetic sensory ones, paraphrasing itself in the remote-near wired of residuals and related electros-metaphysical, which becomes the nothingness of a post-ritual pre-sense whole "

The ligation of the arteries of the Cephysus, carried the emanations of Lochnith, to love him in a medicinal act, for beings devoid of physicality, on the way to spectra of healing, in a reparative pain of extra-corporal and bi-localized pain, among which they conform polarity in androecium and gynoecium as a unit of superior physical mental gender, towards an ectoplasmic regulated nervous world, by means of Vernarth's regression, lowering their blood pressure and increasing stationary red blood cells, and with secondary effects intertwining with Eurydice and Aerse, for outcomes in Vernarth, who came in the prow of the super wet ship, and with some fabrics from the stowage of the ship directing the relaxed but autonomous cerebral advance, which already dispersed dead cells from the right pectoral, for the military and syncretic affair with Lochnith, reinstalling targets globules that arose when it was dawn on the shores of Skalá in independent, peaceful and surrounded cohorts of phalanxes that accompanied him in minutes that seemed millennia, all succumbed to mind-body pessimism and telepathic prayer, which took place by glistening in trances of self-healing parapsychology that descended on them, in pure membrane novels in acts of merciful that made them thick in the flashes of falling weightless ultraviolet rays, separating between body and opinion, joining in psychosomatic networks, as chemical messengers in undefined subsequent receptor bodies of the bachkoi chemicals, which were already deficient for a compensatory universe of genres emerging in a disintegrated emotional quantum world, with a body increasingly reintegrated into a body made of unknown subjective material, but of physical material linked in the network to each other as a real whole, transforming into the greatest passionate refectory of flashes between the their own reinstalling themselves in their Super Egos.

In the Latest Minute Dogmate according to the rictus Mortis thesis, the globules would move like a big explosion, interacting with everything, as starting everything from the beginning of nothing to the indivisible, in numbers of coincidence options for a whole, as a phenomenon of domesticity to align times, but with the probability of finding them in the vestige of real anomalous presences that occurred millions of light-years ago.

Aerse replies: "My admired one, the flash has a measure of the astral body, in the consciousness of spirit that underlies purgation in repeated souls measurable in the perfection of semblance and providential ****** questioned, re-transforming, distant and with disaffection, but contiguous healing. The smallest coherence in the fabulous Griffins that joined my imaginative component and in the ballast of his final departure, not aware of another unique being that can measure and augur him for an undivided trans-personal being. But I am already here, and I am your creation and I no longer know of other illusions of separating myself from this life, of what Eleusis is from a cosmic material that is and was in all time that speculatively passes, for the flash that you reflect if you it pales visible and not, but compact on our intertwined hearts"

As living organisms, various methods of life were postulated as an option in the right hand of Bing Bang, for the goods of those who are really close to real neuroscience puzzles, by way of resonant daring that will influence consanguinity, for volumes of blood releases, carriers of experiences and trans-evolutionary life of the emitter on the outskirts of a Parthenon, as well as in the genre of the world that associates ambiguities from anode to cathode, positive and negative for Hellenic parallelism and life adorned with roots and forage of everlasting vernacular inheritances. All electro-dermal from the Lochnith conglomerate was in total congruence with regressive Eleusian parapsychology propagating from the Vernarth portal, which was vaguely teleported by the river Cephysus, into living organisms that asserted Vernarth's native species originality and currents super life in the euphemistic underworld of mysterious protocols.

As a reaction of mind-matter, the reluctance and support of entrainment in all perceptions, precognitions, telepathies, and forebodings, between this intrepid parapsychological adventure as cloister perpetuity in sensory interferences of the reality of the body and the reality of the omnipotent world, as menthe-matter explosive. Lochnith, was already the possessor of the hypnotic mental reincarnation formula, in the form of a neuroscience ship close to the apparitions of death using the later shoes in life purely in the baggage of sleepy ethereal meats and oracular meditation.
The more we learn about the laws that explain parapsychological phenomena, the more our vision of reality and fiction of something that begins to be the laurel of a psychokinetic true world will grow. Within the curvature and scarce light that already remained in the places of the Lochtian day, normality returned to them after this long journey of the parapsychological biosphere and intriguing contemplation, and even of tenuity and the frisky idea that can die suddenly, after self incubate in the invisible passage of coexistence and rupture of mystery in the medication of art lived with alien beings, for a prototype of a character who only knows that harvesting is consuming capital from the upheaval of a loss and non-profit of the incontrovertible paranormal-normal. What is paranormal and parapsychological in the plane of the posterity of life, is an act of calm coexistence in playful spirits compensating in the seclusion in the vaults of the dramatic and involutionary psychological past, if the material or cute (spiritual) is not dissected the train cosmic perception of duality and the concept of purging the spirit of living…, he lives in his seventh heaven.

The hypnosis of death and purgation for those who require a convoy of conscience continues to be a tiny space that physically transports and reverts to minimums that are neutralized in foreign bodies and foundlings as well, from a corporal depositary aedicule that is not his or the owner that He claims it (Vg aedicule of Joseph of Arimathea). The voices of people officiating the Eleusinian ritual were heard far beyond those who could merely hear them in memorable spaced therapies and recorded in interspersed layers of electro-acoustic sounds of the complex frequency serial of alarming regenerative life, in a moving celestial body. Continuous. Everything is transfused in the meditation of curves that revive in those who promote the perfection of marigolds, like buttercups that dress the clothes of Canephore like Aerse, but of psychic and ephemeral latent of the psychoactive psychic and ******-spiritual alchemical in ethereal entities that become more alchemical in unknown molecules.

Structures of organizations with rules and standards,
So what is this world that offer a simple touch,
Or embrace with sensibilities of our inner desires.

A joke this life can be,
And laughter of echoed eternality,
Inner grasp by a tug upon our hearts.

These laws that we follow with honor,
Ripped by the people who architected and dismissed,
Or disowned by the powers that may be.

Do they not keep their words they utter,
And do they have no chivalry or honor left,
For all is a voice with empty shell in the dark.

All things in life is but a ghastly shadow,
But your inner truth will be your lighthouse!

like rivers;
like running;
like waterfalls;
like rivers running through waterfalls,
i felt the depth
and the eternality
and the cascading
of you.

but i also feel
this inertia
of me
moving
towards
the end
of
us.

We were created with a great purpose and untold value.
When Christ use us to reveal himself to the lost through us.
For its by far greater to find the only one whom can save your very soul.
Then for a hundred years or so to live a live in the lap of luxury.
Then to die and spend the rest of all eternality suffering in torment
Our purpose is to allow Christ to draw the lost toward him.
So that they too may join us with him in the heavens after death.
So remember you are by far more valuable then all of the riches in the world.

I feel pain everyday of one sort or another one.
But the pain here just builds me up to be stronger.
I would rather deal with this pain for a short while.
Then to have to deal with it throughout eternality.
But my Savior shall not give me more than I can handle.
But my heart cries out for those whom have to deal with.
The excruciating pain that drowns a person in torture.
They are the ones that feels that they have to drink it away.
They are the ones that the tears never ever leave their face.
At least with my , I hurt non stop but by Christ strength.
I haven't given up on life, like the others have done.
Thus since I can relate to them its my job to keep praying for them.

I rather that my heart hurt and bleed and know your sufferings.
Then to go around , living in a prison that I am unaware about.
For I would rather live life revealing the Christ within me here.
So that others too, shall find him here before its too late to see.
For my pain and suffering , reveal my wounds here on the earth.
His Spirit keeping me moving forward, overcoming things here.
Reveal him living in me , healing me, blessing me as well here.
For as I am a servant of the Most High God, the only true God.
I rather suffer in this short life , and live abundantly later on.
Then to live abundantly here in this short life and suffer the rest of eternality.

Leave everything of this world behind, when you belong to God.
Lay these things down do not become an packrat clinging to this world.
Remember what Christ said about Lot's  wife when she was here.
That those whom try to hang onto this life loses this life in the end.
But those who lay down the things of this life shall keep this life in eternality.
So we are not citizens of this world but passing through this here world.
So do not put stock into the things of this world but save them in heaven .
Which when we get there we may have real treasures that do not rust.
So start laying up your treasures there , love you all through Christ love.

My burning desires is not about riches nor gold.
Nor about security or about owning an house.
It is not about safety from this evil world here.
But its about people being healed from their brokenness.
Its not about me being comfort in this world either.
Because some day in the future with you in heaven.
I shall have all of this then, throughout eternality.
But in the here and now it is about people finding you.
Its about leading them to you and revealing the real you to them.

and of the moon in the night
like the sun of the day
around they move
separated by the world

though they share a passion for each other
though they have attraction
still they are
separated by the world

forever a settle sheer of desire
to be together
they eternality live
separated by the world

so they live on departed
living their lives away
with their love they are never
separated by the world

The word became Flesh so that we may have life.
He gave up his throne to come to this dead world.
To become a sacrifice, laying down his Life here.
So that we too may have life full abundantly.
Dying an evil sinful man death here on the earth.
Then raising back to life again to save us from our sins.
So that we may have a place with him after our deaths.
Living with him throughout all eternality in heaven.
Where we may worship him our Mighty Savior King.

The cross that I am meant to bear, to reveal you in me by your strength.
The cross that keeps me humble yesterday, and always revealing you.
For we all have crosses to bear here on the earth here whom loves God.
So as long as your Spirit stays dwelling within me forever I shall not complain.
I shall proudly hold the cross that keeps revealing you within me.
For by my weakness being reveal, you are reveal through your strength.
To suffer just a little while here then enjoy all eternality with you God.
Shall be my Greatest Joy in the whole wide world that we live in mow.

Being an hero during combat times saving lives is a great thing.
To save one whom already dead on the inside this is great too.
But to speak life into someone, ministering to their hearts daily.
To love them unconditionally , with the true Love from Christ.
Being an hero is on many different kinds of levels in this world.
Saving someone else life is great in many different levels too.
But to be used by Christ to save their very soul from death.
Just imagine the joy that you both shall share together here.
As well as the times that you shall share in eternality above.

I used to think the terminality of my life lent it a weight
now I realize that all the gravity is in the eternality.

We are like vapors, here today and gone tomorrow.
But that is this life alone, our next life is forever.
To live with Christ throughout all eternality is awesome.
A life where we can show Christ our love face to face.
Let him see that we love him unconditionally too.
For our love for him shall be exactly liker his love for us.
We shall have a sinless body once we make it to heaven.
No more suffering, anger, sin just unconditional love.

Ten years to master a spear,
A hundred to master the sword,
But an eternality to master the brush.

A spear, I used, to hold a fortress,
A sword unsheathed, the heavens fears,
But a brush in hand, ten thousand enlightened.

Ah, is not the spear a weapon of soldiers,
The sword, the hero's friend,
At last, the brush is the sage's kin.

Why shed blood of a thousand men,
Why not teach immortals and men.

Life is a grain of rice
is a paradox that
I have considered
for many years
to the following
conclusions.

Nothing is forever.
Everything ends ultimately.
The eternality of time
will cover all in a silence of
dust and overgrowth.  

We can but accept
the constraints of pain and time,
greed and need,
joy and love,
fear and lust,
and the paradox
of self-awareness,
and its relevance
to the grain of rice.

And the only conclusion
I can reach is that
Life is NOT a grain of rice.

Life may be harsh, it may seem hopeless to some of the. people
But some day things shall get better, because you will be stronger.
Because it like things run in a cycle for some of the people anyway.
But if you trust the Christ, then no matter what you can handle life.
Even if the evil one is trying to throw hopelessness into your lap.
Because then you can return the favor throwing it back at it.
Because in the end it shall be the demons living all eternality.
In suffering, hopelessness and struggle while we worship Christ.
Living the life that they had once live and they know it too.

This, in response to someone who thinks I have a propensity for the negative:

    Accentuate The Positive*

In nineteen hundred forty-five
When jive was ‘it’,
Johnny Mercer wrote the hit,
“(You Gotta) Accentuate The Positive”.

It can be positive to see the negative,
Then go back to real living.
What does living really mean?
Accepting that life can seem mean,
For all life ends, which seems demeaning:
‘Seeming’ which may or not be.

One sees that we live greatly
Through both fear and vanity:
Fear of dying, fear of change,
Dependent on the trendy image;
Forging paths that lead us nowhere.
Seeking knowledge yet in *******;
We changes places, paces,
Lessen bulges, alter faces,
Binge on fashions, jumping in as if it’s best:
Adaptation at its worst.

We thirst for eternality
With no kernel of an insight
That the real answer is acceptance!

Life is not the latest style, technique or fancy.
Style and mode are but a trance, a passing fancy.
The true dance of life: acceptance!
Genuine, true, an unfeigned YES!
In compliance with the destined and the tested.

Minutes after seeing you
Folk forget you.
Knowing this, forget the ego.
Take these pointers: See what’s real.
Accept, adapt and steal away
From vanity and fear,
Attending to what’s nearest, dearest -
You in Now.  And loving Wow!
*See Youtube

Accentuate the Positive 8.12.2020 Birth, Death & In Between III; Circling Round Experience; Circling Round Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin

to the fire of eternality

However diligently I attempt, I am definitely not getting that one poem that will make heads whirl...

that will make individuals cry in dismay, understand their fantasies,

understand their internal eternality,

..cause individuals to overlook their hardships, sufferings, embarrassments, fears...

I realize I won't get it, anyway enthusiastically I attempt since I am restricted by un-creative mind.

I need to summon the spirit of immortal poet William Blake..

..to enter my spirit and help me in this cause.

I fondly hope this may happen!