Tag: celeb

To Be

How did the spirits find their way home from thousands of years in disunity, a collective point to reconcile your groups souls. With the other souls a spirit of unity in family lines, are we better, or have we made better struggles, that went before. From the once shorter lives to the medically inspired extensions of lives. Now given more time to reflect, but in some ways over extend our blip of time upon earth.

I’ve always looked to the dense low pulse of the galaxy, beyond the atmosphere a little bit further than I can go. Whilst looking up in awe, but I don’t feel lost.

For we are part of this good, in stillness I feel gravity in touch with my span of conscious. Time, I can’t believe how quickly from birth to our now it is. Where are we going I think of the term relative and how constricting, it is you are me as I am me and yet be still and know I am God, from a divine energy we crawl grow and go back to source in many lives to be. whether we are a grain of sand or a human being to be, we are creation we are one.

Alien Renewal

We knew the end was near and had looked for remote locations for evacuation, the general consensus of opinion was that it had to be remote. High with fast moving clear streams and plenty of dense woodland coverage, a certain valley came to mind, from memory as a child. It flooded me in delirious colour, swimming in breezes.

Contrasts with sun and shade in equal measure, the valley did have a name but in a location I cannot reveal. There were seven of us mimicking the number of Adepts in imagination and study. We had taken this role and put it in our minds to give purity to our mission, as we were to go farther to be hidden, than most would dare to venture.

We the seven had visited our apocalyptic reservation as individuals over many years, building supplies, seeds, vessels and storage, not necessarily the buildings of recognised habitation. More as semi submerged and appropriate camouflage. There would be no family units there, as it would be morally unwise to believe in futures. As such all seven survivors were males of sound mind and varied technical ability, plus we were trained in the procedures of Kundalini ensuring our own spaceship of mind was available to us when the end of time caught up with us, which inevitably it would. As we could occasionally go further away in a skyline, tainted with the mist of virus and the lid of inevitable death. The earth would be clean again for the perceived Alien renewal.

Fingerprint From God

Fingerprint from God; Guess who, it’s me. Many years gone now, but in the leaves of an old prayer guide my fingers wandered. The subject matter from another time telling me I had to obey and respect my master, however I wasn’t quite sure who my master was. Having possession of my own self this seemed reasonably offensive but still relevant.

In oppressive sections of a world still evolving, then it clicked, I was in possession of my late father’s prayer guide book. That of his conformation as a Christian human. I did love my dad, but he died when I was fourteen years of age dad was a cheery optimist, who had faced many adversities and whilst reading this small prayer book guide, I realise that somewhere in the corners of these pages was a world, for awhile it was saying too me, “this is a fingerprint from God, guess who it’s me.” So there we are, affirmation. From dad once more, I am with you, as much as you were with me, and with that you have my love. I’m telling you who to protect and they are the vulnerable ones, they are my grandchildren you see them through my eyes.

Why

Why give it a name if it is all but a sound, by an outer life glance. Is all who is the inventor of all, invented by beings and who is this super cell in primordial deluge of matter, that forms and reforms until being becomes shape and movement.

In many and most firms, that of cunning evils, the suffering of the meek and poor is immeasurable.

As quantities grow by miles and miles of cruelties and pain followed by silences so how can one being exist to mete out suppression by volumes of cruelties and deaths. For he the perpetrator perishes too along with the meek, for man, the evil gained nothing and will perish also.

An Ode To Little Professor

The little professors of the English households they travel, they know it all, they believe they know governments, and all the characters. Wake up you are fools, you know them not.  For it is all a psychological con, the con of control.  For you are being gathered and controlled in a new Orwellian state a state of spies. Lock down gives time to sort the wheat from the chaff. But don’t forget we are all one world and not an eccentric folly. Promoted by silly ex public schoolboys who read the papers for breakfast.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive