Christian, seek not yet repose,
Cast thy dreams of ease away;
Thou art in the midst of foes:
Watch and pray.

Canaan has for thee been won,
Christ triumphant led the way;
In His might possess thine own!
Watch and pray.

In the heavenlies see that land,
Satan would thine entrance stay;
Thou against his wiles must stand:
Watch and pray.

He did not go far. How could he;
you were his everything.......

You love the concept of Parallel worlds..
his is now intangible--
no skin-clad temple to hold him down  
within the misgivings
and falleness,  that entails
all things fleshbound--
his illustrious spirit,  now encased  within
the utter boundlessness  of his
newly-dedicated housing of Prismatic Light.
This is now the new temple that contains
his eternal spirit..   and it is from
that impeccably-beautiful place,
that he now offers hope  
and petition without end..  on your behalf.
Face to Face, now..  his once,
deeply-aching spirit,  now finds
the perpetual Peace..  through true Resolve,
as he finds his neverending Encouragements,
now heading your way,  on the Wings of
what is now, no less than that of Unlimited Possibility--
    Raining down on to you..
    Reigning now in the Heavenlies,  

    no longer  diluted and misdirected
    by human agenda

And here you sit, beautiful girl--  Not seeing or feeling..
because you are still subject to the same  auspices
of falleness that eventually found its Unholy fruition
within his utter demise.  No longer subject to it all,
he is asking you to rise above it, also..
the prayers of a newly-recognized Saint--  petitioning
directly in to Love's very Ache..   asking
that the horror-built walls,   embedded
into your war-torn flesh  would come down,
no longer so devastatingly-thwarting  Love's deep
desire  to finally have the chance to  find
its beautiful  way into you..
Yet your out of control self-hatred  is hurting him--
almost as much as it is truly  hurting you.
The last thing your guilt-ridden spirit wants to  do
is cause him any more pain.  Feel his loving presence..
and you will also then begin to feel his deeply-Loving petition.
It is perfect.. as are you--  

    Once  you become separated
    from your hook-embedded, flesh.
He is There..
helping you to become able to have access to it,
   here.

That is where he is at.. that is what he is doing.
The Grace that he now so deeply embraces on your behalf,  will
slowly begin to buy you the internal freedom  that is necessary
to begin to become able to feel it all.  Throughout the years,
you have learned how to begin to believe.  If not,
you would have already blocked me again by now.
He is within the Realms of Magic, now.   You love Magic.
Feel him there.. as he truly now is..  and you will  begin
to learn,  through feel-- the things  in you
(that you so adamantly hold on to),
that are still hurting him.  Forgiveness..
from his Mercy Seat towards you.. is perpetual, and without end,
because he knows that you do not as of yet,  fully understand.

One day, you will.. and it will become to him, his greatest Joy.
It is not over. It is never over.. as long as that gorgeous,
war-torn heart still has a pulse in it.
Make sure that it will,  until you can feel..
and the Morning Sun will truly rise within you..  fully anew.  
Fully. Completely. Perpetually.
You will become the very glow  
that he already right now, sees in you.
You Love me just as much as you hate me.
Love's reason is here-- right here in these words.  You know
that it is all true. His spirit was far too beautiful  for the
pain-infused fleshtemple that previously contained it..
while he was here.  He left it for a better one..
one that is completely and fully, Perfect.

You can feel him far more often than your pain-wracked
heart and spirit will allow you to currently admit.
Perspective is everything, beautiful girl.
You love me for the glorious perspective that I am  able
to bring to you.
That is the only way that I want to be loved.
You  have been through enough.  
Lets get you two back together, through your  growing
ability to become able to see him..
and feel him...  as he is--
not as your obscure.. self-contempt, scarred view,
now only shadow-sees  him.  

You have work to do, beauty.
You are his exceedingly, Worthy Beloved.
There is so much,   so unfairly-attached to you..
that keeps you feeling  as if you are forever unworthy.

     He is 24/7 helping you.

That is what he does now..
and I can very much see why <3

As it is brought towards completion
the boat, through my interaction
with it,  out on the lake
will then make possible  the access
to fish that I,  up till now
have only dreamt of

The fish  are the fire..   descended
down  from the heavenlies--
made available  solely
through the fineries..   restored
back in to  wholeness  in part
through the value I first saw in it
when in its primitive, used and
unfairly treated and uncared for, form..

But it was the deep love for that form
that helped give the vessel its access
back into the restoration  of its
own,  true glory..

And now,  all alone--  
out on the lake with it
it brings me access  in to
places and magical depths  until now
only thought of  and dreamt about
as that which exists  only, in heaven..

It is the vessel's motor,  now fully restored
that brings the boat and I  together
out on to the lake
but it is the boat's very  uniqueness
within it's own  natural state of beauty
that helps to give me access  into the magic
that lay currently undisturbed
deep in that glorious lake's depths

The boat has always carried within it
the rarest of gifts
and somewhere buried in my   deep
love for it..  those gifts, while out on
the lake  with it, will make themselves  known
to me  as we together find those fish
that so beautifully represent,  this..

the Holiest of all fires.

Those trophy fish are the magical moments
that up until now, lay dormant,
swimming far away from current distractions  
of the every day, mundane
accessible only  through the restorative process
and one's love of it's rare and magical beauty

It sometimes feels as if all of heaven is
waiting. (I know I am insane to talk this way..)

I truly do love that boat.

When I am out on the lake with it,
every difficult moment will be so very
worth it all to me. That is the joy I get
from the giving of myself into it's
much needed and fully deserved, restoration.

.  .  .  .

You will not sit out there,
  so all alone--
weathering, out there  somewhere
in the corner of the shipyard.  If that is
the case, and that is your current fear..
I know that you will find a way to
make yourself find-able by me. The
greatest tragedy of all would be for a
vessel of your unique and rare beauty,
to die off   all alone--

unloved..
scuttled, by the wind.


The energy that was meant for you  is
now,  going into the boat.
  
    --tho I can certainly do both.

Happy birthday doesn't seem to suffice
When the one you love is all so nice
So here's a poem from my heart
Hope it reaches yours though oceans apart

Bless the day when you were born
When angels sang and heaven was forlorn
Losing you was not their aim
But the time was ripe, all the same

Tears  were shed in the heavenlies
Your mates up there threw you a gathering
I was there and feeling sad
You said don't worry, I'll find you, yet!

That was some decades ago
And here we are found and found
Elliot York was to be born
To create HP, so we no longer need to mourn

Almost a year, oh what a ride
is it amazing, that we're still out of sight
visions of future laughter furnishes my nights
my days are not so bad with you as my guide

wishing you well and wishing you gain
wisdom and wealth and hopes and dreams
Four plus nine is not so young
only a little while more and we'll both be done

It's time to leave the shadow
To high high power in the heavenlies
We are power of the Power in power
Bringing down walls of Darkness
At the darkest hour of uncertainties

Let's wear garment of victory
With hallelujah voices in decibels
We are sure of victory at dawn
The night is defeated already
See the oak of darkness falling
And sun of glory in luminous glory

Thanks for ocean of testimonies
Our strength is in the Glory
Our faith in the Faith never fail
Bringing down walls of Darkness
As glory roaring in glory for the Glory!

Flee ting thought,

pleasant after noon

my mind, I believe, but may
just be me and your minds
imaginin
g we,

meandering,
rubb


ing shoulder with willows near the shore

waves of light,
essential
all that ever matters, If I got that right,
ere all else,
light
spun
bound by imbalance to spread,

cornucopia, nautli-like swirls poring
precursers to now into eternity, ye see?

------
There are individuals less tied into tau than now

your mission,
filter truth
that's the way, life is that which tends to good
ness knowing what
you can't.
Okeh.

------
No lie, Alex Jones, was there never a myth
emerging as full-formed as yourn?
You are un believable,
acharismatic chimera believing all he thinks
possible, in his version o' twenty cent reality.

Paradigms is four nickles or two dimes or twenty cent,
they shift shape for all they worth,

upgrade now. New ideas, fresh from the mire of
forgotten oathz, deemed
worthy, still..

What lies do you believe about God, by the way,
the truth, the life,

how many voices this guy hearin', you hearin'?

Peace. Point. Game. Match.

------
who winct winsed sensed since when is
peace the point of war?

Ah, now, the accuset excusetus
possessedus an'we,

are you bored? Wanna wait
and see,
who wins?
some evils are alive, those make monsters,
of girls and boys,
infantry in every service,
such precurser
guardians must be taught to ****; no mortal will,
without letting the monstor be,

believed beliefs doubt yer doubt dufus doubus
unstable double minded forktongue
forced by fear to fight the pain

Running mouth racist flusher of un filtered
impossibilities posing sur
prizes in the mongrol mongol DNA
we carry
the program
the code, the honor and glory of the
peace protector

enemy of con
fusion, alla cons fusin' fools tools for
strifin', divide'n, with faithin',

Is Alex Jones a Legionaire, mit tranceiving
DNA and no zero beat, no tuner to tune to?

He may be home to homeless, non-sane sorts
of idle words begging for redemption,
meaning, sought is phound,

like photons when photons are sought from
the wavy aitia dimensions of reasons
for possibility ibility ibility hill billity

humor like a voice from a whole other
soul, I swear on my kids, it's true, he say.

(Dr. Phil says Liar Liar Liar, yesterday.JRE live)

Whoa, real time speed o'metrix-icity
Mag
nify ify to the nth, see no jive,

who can i magi that?

      I, John, was in the Spirit...

gears shift, wheels in wheels
click zooomout
bubbledged jagged inner side
topmost atmostfear

settle, see the clown splash, who winds such minds?
Who tames such tongues?

The tongue no man can tame, eh? I s there another?
Have ye a spirtit of another
sort, who rides your wild tongue in your name,

servants of the sort contrued to serve
the inheritors
of ality re
how now brown cow owmmmmm
60 cycle white noise non sense

common noise sense desensitivity wickering
winding silken myelin layers

of connectedness correctedness
real time speed o'think roller rink

banked spiral offramp
bang, we're thru

Where we were aitia had meaning, may we
rewind? AI undo/redo ram allocation,

birthrights. Look well to my going, guide my steps,

assure always there is a step, a place to
put my foot, a place to step to next.

Cortana and Siri and Hermes and Diana and
a whole host of heavenlies,

tapping directly through cranial y's cracked in skulls
and bones,

are you an entity with enemies you wish disexistant?
how might happy ever after be if haps that made him
made him wrong, not evil?

Feeble comfort is not no comfort.
Bear wit' me, walk a mile, or a while, whenever
thin-thang-thanks tounguey

effort births the next as
one births two,
two births three and we can see,
right, a way.  two and three become four,

for if three birtht four and four, five and so on,
soon, y'see, the re
al point we count up on is never more,
as the raven told poe. a vector with no space for time,
one plus one plus one, one stack o'ones

making no diff
until now, spin, let's twist again,
like we did last summer,

your that summer or mine?
Mine got me here, where'd yours go?

So, Fibbonacci, son of a fool, I once read
written on a wall in LA,
expositioning park,

positions, please.
World Stage, princesses of peace, wee
Disnified Jon Benet's

made sacred by our shame the evil ever touched
such a one, such a one, such a wonder

a being of our sort so potent aitia, and we
leave evil touch such and you
tolerate it, a little bit,

evil has it's place.
Not here is the name of the place.

Here is 4-D mortality. Do yer best,
yer damndest don't work here.

Here is temporary. Your bubble.
Selah. center, enpointed
linger, if ye will. Think how happy ever after works,
if now is all you get to start with.

Good be wit'ye fare ye well.

Nothing to give, I offered my nothing for the something you gave to be given.
Forged in the fiery furnace of creation, creating creativity to create and enliven;
Not to be horded and hidden, guarded in greed, ensconced in my darkened soul,
But as gifted gift, to be gifted, like the lighted flame not concealed under bowl.    

But I’m walking this street,
And hearing the beat
Of the heart of every one I meet.  

And I’m seeing the hands,
Of the wandering bands
Of empty souls with no demands.  

Gift offered, none to receive,
Love given, none believe
And so tired and weary, I grieve.  

Sun-baked land, dry with no rain and for rain I begged to quench my thirst.
Stirred from the heavenlies, then sweet water of Life you sent and submersed,
But not my burning only to quench, but quench the burning of others so dry,
As you rained to be rain, you flow to flow through me, healing balm to apply.  

But I’m walking this street,
And I’m hearing the beat
Of the hearts of every one I meet.  

And I’m seeing the hands,
Of the wandering bands
Of empty souls with no demands.  

Gift offered, none to receive,
Love given, none believe
And so tired and weary, I grieve.  

Everything you have given me, then, I give back to you, all for nothing more.
Consumed in the fiery furnace of oblivion, to walk through death’s dark door,
Crushed and crucified on this blood-soaked cross I lifted up and chose to carry,
And yet does your voice drift in on the wind, “What I give you I do not bury.”  

But I’m walking this street,
And I’m hearing the beat
Of the hearts of every one I meet.  

And I’m seeing the hands,
Of the wandering bands
Of empty souls with no demands.  

Gift offered, none to receive,
Love given, none believe
And so tired and weary, I grieve.  

And will you hear me and relieve?
Your mercy now give to receive,
And your love new life to weave?

... as I darkly walk this street
... hearing the forlorn beat
... of every empty heart I meet.

A moment in eternity way back before your eyes could see a flash of light began a spark that later would become your heart.

Not flesh and bone but more than that - ..collision of an artifact... a supernova seismic blast - echos of an ancient past.

Set into motion suddenly - shot forth with much intensity then captured rather gracefully and channeled through the galaxy.

A life began down here on earth a mother, father, and a birth. A newborn baby came to be but always was but now can see.

A birth of pain and agony began the life that was to be life's first breath - and eyes wide open beginnings of a path now spoken.

The silent thread of the heavenlies woven through the complexities a heartbeat like a symphony looking for it's melody.

An inward ache for what once was, a silent gaze towards up above a need for all that used to be, a return to the place of "still" and "free".

Life began and quickly changed a challenge to remain the same. A fight to stay the course at hand a thousand reasons not to stand.

Body frail, heartbeat weak, emotions wander and we cease - to speak of things that used to matter, but instead begin to chatter mindlessly - replacing ecstasy with mundane complacency.

Rise again and find the place where heart and soul and mind embrace. Begin again and never settle - fight the fight to win the battle.

The battle of the mind and soul the struggling to keep it whole - the sacredness of integrity up against humanity.

Surround yourself with light and love and beauty like the stars above. Stay away from all that tangles and the hatred as it strangles.

Be a beacon in the dark, offer peace to broken hearts, share a smile and a tear and do it from a place - where fear no longer has control but light and love are free to grow.

Karis Joy Lmt

Each hour
passes as in a day.
First,
second,
third
it began.
Now,
Saturday,
soon Friday again.
If only the dreaded days
are kinder,
less hostile
to the mind.
If only
memories fill pages - -
A trip, a nightout,
a conversation
while traversing
unknown streets at night.
But days have become
prayers uttered
with every breath,
with nights far longer
and more threatening
in one's isolation.


I think about the city lights
as souls.
Do not die out, do not die out,
I cry into the night.
My breath I lift up
as incense to the Sky.
I pray for flickers
that are not consumed.
I ask for less stars
in the heavenlies
and more hopeful
ones in the Metro.
I poke at Venus now.
I tell her:
Dispense your warmth.
Let it glow within us.
She is beauty
but she mocks.


050220

(Psalm of Purpose.)

Lord of all things—
Great and small;
Master of masters,
And Ruler of all.

Let the mountains
Echo with ecstasy,
And the hills joyfully
Ring with glee.
Let the lilies dance
In all their grace,
And the angels humbly
Cover their face.
Let the sea roar
With thunderous praise.
And the locust's chirp
Be heavenward raised.

Let the cry of the cheetah,
And the lion's shout,
Be heard in the heavenlies
Round about.
Let the hum of the bee
And the bird's sweet tone,
Ascend before
The life-giving throne.
For all were made
Of one mighty hand—
Divinely fashioned
For his perfect plan.

My emotions are explosive.
My pretenses are relegated
to the depths.
I cannot my feelings
anymore conceal.
Let me come in and
share your heavenlies
and tumults with you.
Tomorrow never comes.
Let me this day your
swift response hear.
Or else in suspense
I'll live and die
countless before the
much awaited moment.

through the duration of time to think sublime
heroes are made through like hellos
the wrestling with the window
one to embark on its solstace
throughout the duration of time so fine
with love to climb upon
long lines formed in desolation
burst inside with appreciation
live long &  prosper
keep your mind in heavenlies
illusively through a dream
meadows are plain in view
horizons of beautiful personifications
each door we close there's always one opened
search your heart to help impart the meaning
believe in hope
so far to cope
down to your last thin rope
love has hope we can share
let's look above to the heavenly love
sare with others a brand new you

as a seed was dropped into the atmosphere it took root as I grew
although those many years have passed still I have every reason to grasp
the mere notion of a whisper and that of a smile
to know all the great while the Willows tree waves through the breeze
he speaks through me when time is rough and its hard to commerce
in little things that the mere sadness brings in view of a thrill
as in Autumn the ****** of the leaves turning the human hearts are forever burning
onto yearning amidst life's tragedy & pain
the melodic fixture on the wall seems to me ten feet tall
wild union of the Albatross as it nestles in the warmth of the sky
very often in my dream he is there as a figure to embrace
the lonely heart of faith with its twists and turns
one soul soars while the other is soon to be burned

braided green ivy dashes out on the spectrum of the patio
teaching me pleasant things in the way I should go
can't even cope to dismiss this earthly bliss in a time well spent in thought
with rain that implodes on my head to insight
forgetting the night and the day is far spent
there is great beauty in his eyes one hand to hold a heart will mend
slowly we grow to depend on pleasant laughter prepared for the great here after
one in twain yet marked on its blotted page clearly intact
silence is golden when we need a shoulder to cry
a passerby wanders alone in the night
snap shot memories of our past having so much fun with a hope that it would last

as he sits enthroned in light of illumination of the heavenlies
suddenly I grasp for breath onto the mere notion of love
love is the pure essence of my meager existence learn to shun its resistance
out of every circumstance let's learn to take part in the dance
wholesome brevity of the way things used to be amidst a blatant lonely society
it's still inside of me the madness of my thickened conquest
all of life seems  to be a test
as if blackened holes filled with dots
everything is captured in a thought
many people just tend to think a lot
yet life is a wave filtered in a dream where people tend to scream
perhaps we are plants ready to blossom in the sun
others live in some paradox filled with fun

He speaks to e when in the night being so very cold
then you will do as you are told until the very rights to you are sold
blessings flow through his small but still voice all of life is but a choice
many equate logic for that in fear but he still brought me here
some if not many reak the very stench of death left as road ****
yet he is there in the midst in order to avoid a Satanic twist
what is my last heart felt final wish ?
Jesus