08 March 2012

Buh Bye Facebook

This morning I deactivated both my Facebook and Twitter accounts. I am sorry that I failed to get all the email addresses for those who might want to stay in contact. If you would like to stay in contact I have used Google+ a wee bit and you can find me there.

I've been called a conspiracy theorist because I prefer truth and fact finding over being faddish. It's really quite simple, in this day and age, to do quite a bit of research in a short amount of time. If you follow Point A to Point B to Point C you will likely wind up at Point Duh. 

Ask questions, especially if something you see or hear elicits an immediate visceral emotional response (because that is likely what is hoped for). Ignorant masses are so much easier to control.

26 February 2012

and we are it

The Antichrist is here; and we are it. It is the hubris of man that is our greatest threat. We play with things we do not fully understand and foolishly believe that we can compete with the Universe, with God, to control nature. And if you believe as I do that God is in all things you know that God is nature and nature will ultimately win. It is our choice to work with nature or to try and defeat it - to war with it. The kingdom of heaven is all around us and within us yet we are doing are best to destroy it. Or bodies are the ultimate temple of God but we do not trust it - we poison it. 
We have been given our freewill. Our greatest gift, we give away daily to governments and corporations for the illusion of control. We each contain a "God Spark" with which we can create or destroy. It is our greatest task to learn to use our freedom; not with arrogance, greed or pride but with humility and love. 

to be continued....

23 January 2012

Among the Living

I've become
  a creature of solitude
attended by silence
  an ember
I wallow in alone


I remember

Pain and fatigue are not all
  this body has felt


there is the 
  lingering lifetime slide
    of lips across lips
the shadow 
  of a caress
a stealthy tangle
  of hair in hand
  a still
    thundering pulse here.


for years you spat your words
into the well of me
and for the life of me 
i have been dredging them up
watering bitter roots
and drinking them down
accustomed to the taste of their poison
always that first sip sweet
as a memory created of 
things meant to be
of fate or destiny
but I have become dried up 
and tired 
a husk of wondering if there's
any me left
at the bottom of that well