Faith Full

Earnestly infrequent. Characteristically unfervent, tested and instructed in the hands of time and reason. Sharpened by host, the Holy Kind, in tandem with the likes of men’s throughout age. Personified by crimes against wisdom sans chance in the pursuit of a romantically disestablished comprehension of the wheels that move the bus forward. What pliancy offered to resistance existent is feathered and protected by powers asunder crawling out from under the chassis to see the mechanisms as whole.

Where to said focus to cumulene? How dragged and dogged the evidences persistently used to clarify the unreal or uncanny grasp upon a reality you’ve neither defined nor dispelled? From whence and hence does ancestry contribute to the tunnel we’ve born beneath the fabric and controls of ticking clocks and time bombs. Traps lain for the inoculated footsteps of man thinking himself impervious to the ravishes of design’s program. Marching into never land with a glimpse of immortality dissolving before it may ever be found. And crowned nightmare in the duplicity of our own minds and the predilection to accept reason over rhyme, marmalade over honey and fashion over substance.

Trees adorned with knowledge as if databanks written in the rings of Ash, and Oak and Hickory. What made us so pliable by the wings of folly’s promise? Armed with cavalcade and white wash the outside shall always present the calm that exists not within but the pious focus of optics and clarification. What manner of man stands for things in which belief is neither found nor encoded? These are the things that make up gravity, that force bosons or electric pulses in one direction as opposed to the Z plane into which they may be frozen for eternity. Where is this place that man may find peace resounding? Only in the design of the Designer where mercy abounds for the wicked and the nice. Twice dodged does not infinity become.

How becoming has this path ensued. Formed in reservation and joy’s remorse, plotted by feet inclined to find harmony not discord and the unity of all things. What power drives the rivers beneath surface as they flow to seas untold? What mannerisms gird a man to the defense of the wall encircling the infirm as they themselves the reason for existence and the cause of power. How shall faith be formed if not found within internal chemistry? Hope is never happened upon but sought, never reluctant to help one see beyond calamity, never relied upon in doubt, but belief. Why then is this merciful component the essential element to survival? If dedication to survival of fittest than those Supreme Race Beings ought forever prevail. There is no reason for weakness of secondary forms, yet they do in fact reside with the potency of hope and faith, lacking doubt to defeat the cause of science and continue without explanation.

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Measure

Lending frequency to misunderstanding many stand alone victims to their own quest to be found correct. Friendship is not a wanderers prize but born of intention and an operative will to seek the answers in social difficulty and discomfort. Why must we be alone to seek reward of accompaniment? Resisting our own contentment and completion we kick against the goads with all we meet preparing them for the fallow ground of our rigid expectation. How awesome the day when I have nothing to say but let everyone be who they choose and win or lose refuse to recuse.

The leniency of assault and the soft landing of unfavorable experience equip comradery with appropriate solace or salve to the misunderstood or wounded. Walking alone is battle, never choosing to have one’s back covered rather determining assault or fear as mates. Do not wander the paths of rich experience avoiding all the messy missteps into the care of others simply to remain unscathed by the emotions and hardships that are endemic to relations. Pry open the cans of possibility and promise to find even when disappointed the gains of growth and recall. Memories though often stolen by time are treasures equipping us for legacy. A bad friend is a the best lesson one need in the valuation of true love and trust. having been betrayed one aligns with those in greater measure of character and truth.

Though perhaps measured on the fingers of one hand the quality of those few of my friends is worth any limit in their number. Knowing these people has made me better, not of my own self measure but the interaction with their grand qualities. Remember the friends you gain are the treasures that make it through heaven’s passing. I am inured with greater measure of all good things of life and its promise by those who make decision to remain in my company. For without entry into the bonds of friendship we may never be coaxed by those who know us best into becoming the men we would never become without that prompting. Do not fear the sharp edges and rough surfaces of life found in those who would come alongside your vessel to improve skills of navigation, perception, battle and provision.

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Adhere

And likewise also the men, leaving the natural use of the woman, burned in their lust one toward another; men with men working that which is unseemly, and receiving in themselves that recompence of their error which was meet.

And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient;

Being filled with all unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness; full of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity; whisperers, Romans 1:27-29

God's Word on our times and the effects of turning away from His Objective Truth to our own self worship in subjectivity.

In my arrogance I chose my own path. As trial after trial subjected me to the crucible of this world’s fire I knew my decision making to be faulty. I wondered why my heart was colored to depression’s shadow? In the inevitability of this life constructed by one infinitely more wise, I found that in self direction my heart is a dark place and not therefore to be trusted. Thankfully in my reprobate hell of mirrored reflection I saw the wickedness within and was shocked at not only who I was but at what I would become remaining on the current path toward the Lake of Fire. I went to the source of Truth and found in God’s Word the Truth mentioned above and faced the decision that differentiates and separates all men. God or me, bond or Free, to see clearly or be turned over to my own house of cards for eternity.

Must I remain in the testing ground, the Refiner’s Fire of this world and find transformation through suffering and wisdom in experience? Well it has always been choice. The choice to live, the choice to endure, the choice to be filled with the Hope and Joy of eventual Glorification and Eternal union with God. Now I may take what is pure and prostitute it or transmogrify it, consuming and exchanging its naturalness and innocence to conform to my wicked perspective, but then it is no longer the perfect thing that God has made it, but now my strange flesh of decadent disobedience to God’s Will. The choice to reside in righteousness is never one done alone, nor is the path of the wicked absent God’s offer of Grace. He loves all and gives all the free will to choose life or its absence. Equally, once having chosen God’s Grace He comes along side the boat as we travel this life to teach, guide, secure and make certain the path of those having chosen His Truth instead of our Lie.

We say in absolute clarity that the path ahead is unknown, yet to the Christian that statement is no longer true as we dawn the helmet of God’s Salvation with indwelling of the Holy Spirit’s Power that created everything none may say that this access is impotent in its tremendous discerning insight into the Creation God alone understands. Those choosing God find comfort and guidance in the storm or quiet and those who diligently seek Him are rewarded with a level of wisdom absent in self fulfillment and dependence.

The taste of purity and the path of righteousness is frankly greater esteemed then the addictions of my own impoverished contemplation. When trusting in Self I was always hungry or thirsty for another round of whatever it was my heart lusted. In God I found a contentment a satiation, fulfillment and a full belly, heart and mind. I discovered the access to request a peace that surpassed previous understanding washing me in the comfort of goodness and the hope of everlasting, covering the pain of trial with the knowledge of purification through experience faced with Joy and Patience of Spirit. I am no longer stranger to my God, no longer subject of the jailer who seeks my soul, no longer slave to the sin of my imagination but rather a Free Man indeed basking in the Light of God’s Infinite and perfect Truth, forevermore.

Power

No antidote nor force in opposition to Love. It is precisely powerful and functionally formidable to take out even the strongholds of heart and mind. No safe space may stand against it for it permeates the cracks between space and time. No man, nor spirit may evade the power of its call upon even cell nucleus. Nothing may stand in its passing, nor pose adequate shield from its absolute dominion over every thing and person inside the Creation it governs. Hate and fear cower at its mention, for in Love all God’s Measure is plainly perceived.

Unaffected

Calculating, tabulating, iteration upon trial upon attempt adds up to something that has not yet been perceived. The shape is nebulous a form like any we’d seen. Glasses firmly pressed against foreheads and the protective lenses show sharp contrast to the blinding light bouncing off the back side of our retina. Who knows where this road leads but we are following with reckless abandon having never paused to check with God we are certain in ourselves. Life begins when we say that it shall and no one may make us the wiser. As we liken ourselves to pioneers setting out on maiden voyage we are so damn impressed that it will be impossible to keep faces straight at the award ceremony. Nothing shakes us expect the impossibility we seek to surpass. We are beyond what we dreamed of being. We are superman, Nephilim, a product of master race, determined to find our own way to paradise or create one of our own silencing God in process.

My path clear, downhill, uphill, damning the torpedoes while ignoring the human cost as we will never pay it. This is a scientific dash and dine on His tab and we shant pay back what our rules say may be taken for none the wiser have lost control of me. I reminisce about the unimportant, the relationships lost, gained, entertaining for awhile jettisoned for the particles and passage to the unknown, always suspecting that which shall be found the other side of midnight, beyond hell’s gate in the laboratories and cells of reason and science, the Hall of the Mountain King as many have quested shall be ours for the keeping. What blind hope measures a man prepared in expectation of capitulating to the Will of God? How false, pitiful and hopeless those without imagination to see Knowledge and immortality beyond the distant ridge? We were made for greater things and shall delight in forgetting all that came before us as one forgets the kindling to stoke dinner’s fire.

This is not a dance of hope as those lacking reasons sharp senses patiently anticipate. No we shall eat, dining on the harvest of those forgotten on willing bosons, strong and weak forces propelled and partnered with gravity to force light around the event horizon, disambiguation our prize knowing all truth and falsehood and just when or where to apply each to gain the quantum keys to heaven and beyond. What may stand against us an immovable cadre of spiritual elephants, having never forgotten the edicts we were taught and made to follow. We follow no more but lead into the dark places bringing with us the Alchemist’s fire that may never be extinguished giving sight beyond solidity and peace beyond solemnity, sovereigns we may never fail or falter.

Harken unto the masters of daylight’s equipping. We your gods beyond gods made stone and fire by reason and knowledge, by purpose and importance we shall lay all to rest that serve no purpose in our pleasure. We won’t show love as weakness falters in the presence of the sacred ellipticals and harmonic resonance of universes crying out in majesty, conducted in syncopation by our orders and mass. We are the weight that bears gravity asunder, the discerner of worlds, the destroyers of all that was weakly wrought by a pitiful Sovereign who Loved Creation Much. WE are the mockers with intention, Free to subordinate that which was meant to rise above. We shall erase all mention of those powerless to maintain their history and the worlds shall prostrate themselves at our brilliance.

Poverty’s hand leapt at our arrival, draining all blood, bone and heart from the wanton world. In provocation we dare the Almighty. We thrust our sword into every harvest, every righteous life, light and vulnerable or pure breath left inhaling. We are the haters of Love, the maligners of right, the siphon of life, crept nearly to the heart of man, we shall feed until all light grows dim and suffers. Our time has come and men are so fruitful the foundation in their never ending appetite. It shall be easy to take them all from God’s loving hand as they want to leap from that Mighty Palm into fiery lake, it takes little prompting. He has offered them everything that from us was taken, yet they will follow our deception, our myth, ignoring the Truth they know to be real for the darkness of heart and reprobate mind. We will feed them, to the maw of the dragon, consuming all in fire and leaving naught but ash as remembered service to our hunger. They have chosen unwisely they have chosen to serve those who leave nothing in their wake. We will steal, kill and destroy until nothing remains and then we will stand far off from God’s paradise knowing what we know, immortal and free.

Contempt

Into that sleepless night I mumbled the intelligible. Words with no semblance or connection to this reality fell from the stone perch of my palsied frown. Why had space given me so much freedom and no courage as deadly blow after swinging pendulum mistook me for a French intruder. Gaining wisdom as all memory passed before my wakeful eyes lending me sudden understand, precisely when I needed it least, as I face the end of my days. Crushed by relief that time had for me called my chit, There is no bargaining without chips, no credibility without a Truth measured against your name, no place to wonder when the desert Knows you’re there.

Why had I forgotten everything about engineering, machinery and gadgets exactly when I needed that learning most? What fallback supported my continued existence if I could not find the Spirit of McGiver somewhere deep inside my thought processes for that skill set would be the only personal salvation I would observe. And judging from enormous blank I had drawn, tighter than a mercury seal on a vacuum, there would be no hope for this child warned by Mom and Graced by God. Delivery is what I most needed unfortunately I had reached that dry moment when God offered no more moments for contemplation and decision. My gas was gone, air used up and title revoked, apparently God wants me home right now for some strange reason when I have amounted to nothing for Kingdom or Family.

Faith is reason without an explanation or expectation. My view of this world had summarily amounted to nil on God’s Worthometer. I stood bereft of reason, accountability, science, emotional intelligence or a solid sense of morality. I would say it was by chance that I became someone of standing but we both know who is responsible for all blessings having been bestowed upon this poor fool. My answers were humbly sharp and my love dismally given for wanton gain. I had made decisions to save myself from making more subsequent choices that we all know must be made this side of dying. I viewed God’s Will as a nod and a wave, hoping that I would never have to explain to anyone what this life truly entaialed. For I had a some total of nothing to show, nothing to say and nothing to revive me from the unpleasant slumber to which I now was headed. What does waste not want not mean any way?

Inordinate tragedy born of the Greek Soul but placed in the Iranian emotion as weeping about the joys of love seems odd to a Russian. We knew discourse, we knew rambling, we knew how to serve ourselves in a host of languages but had forgotten how to mourn. Nothing throne to the ground evoked our pity, especially those who couldn’t find their way from poverty. Eating a dog is not that hard. It simply requires that you are the hungrier dog. Displaced from the stark concept that I had always been wrong about everything, I stood alone a giant, casting aspersions upon everyone for all would know my rage and contempt. Humanity was a swollen sponge waiting to extol its colored passions upon my freshly waxed floors. Hate was an insufficient word for the foul odor that now filled my mind, Raw, acidic, suppressed wrath bit my tongue nearly twain as I could not imagine more painful end to the forgiveness lacking retribution I sought against all of them. There was no going back nor everlasting light for me, only darkness, fire and dry spit, gnashing and blaiming everything upon God himself.

We were right you know, but the simple fact that it had all come to pass as He proclaimed left me wanton. I could not measure my loathing breast against the apparent joy that powered those who chose to believe what I knew certainly was folly and fairytale. A God who loves me enough to die to buy me back from the sin that I chose is weak, impotent and disturbing. Now they thought and lived like angels when all the world was to be MINE. As each remaining moment flowed as speed bumps on an endless culdesac, I jostled to raise my eyes to see who stood there in my dying fame. All I could see was Love. The Love of my Family, my Dog and my God looking at me not in shame, misery or the hate I shared for them, but Love. Upon that final sight I would chew for eternity sharing my wages with those who loved their sin more than life itself.

Taffy

Intangible mechanisms of harlotry. Pulling with agonizing efficacy at the mooring of man. Latches cast open the residue of insignificant restraint pitch men to frenzy and the unhappy pursuits of women to flame. We are neglectful of harmonious participation in the real, the now the beginning seeking resolution. Reflecting upon mirror images of self and reason we dance away from precipice edge only to roll over the promontory to valley below. What response have we broken at world’s end?

We are slaves to those thoughts we cannot stop thinking. Reset, taffy pulled by paddle stretched to limits of our chemical outrage we deliver against expectations only to find ourselves short of time, cash and reason. Where are the logics of time’s passage? Where are the reasoned voices of men who thought it outstanding to consider a life well lived heroic? What broad exceptions have been parlayed by the false hearted such that we no longer stand with the gallivant against the wiles of darkness, struggling to remember the warmth and hope of light.

Flavored algorithms teaching children of the supernatural with naught but ghosts and dust as reference. Places found by accidental poking against the fabric of universal sinew. Danger too explosive as serendipity points to the bridges of Valhalla and the dark poisoned mushrooms of Pandora’s fumbling. What twain resides between unreal and imaginary? Is there a strap to adhere one’s raft sailing against the winds using water and fire to perpetrate the farce of avatar? When did confidence become insufficient to resolution? Where is fear bottled and sold to conduct mass deception? How shall we find birth having never sought the navigable seas for safe harbor?

Having not been tempted to buy or bury hatchets, define incredulity or refrain from pugilism, I wonder the meditations of Word that sees through me in my simple but complex creation. Nonplussed by raging jargon or ill equipped anatomy born of those dodging the loving hands of maturity and wisdom, I reside in peace attempting to imagine a peaceful stroke of luck for you. Dancing within the commas placed to capture my limits as worldly character I crush no blackberries and pecan between my molars and refuse the sweet smelling lilac upon the wind as it tempts my nostril. Hate begets the passionate version of this nightmare which I have been avoiding even forgetting to make obeisance for boatman. There is something more than I know and I readily pray I discover the privilege to have it shown me.

Is it True?

To say that I love you is inadequate still for how much may the mountain simply love the sky? Frozen granite fingers reaching out for her into the rich deep frozen blue of stratosphere. Tis cryptic this word of allegiance and belonging, that never seems to amount to the passions felt by a willing man. For Love is not cradle yet comforts as such nor bastion yet protects from the multitude of woes. Giving flowers a minor symbol of the galactic explosion of endorphins rushing through our bloodstreams as we contemplate even brief words. We are undone, prisoners, captured by this longing for another, yet fail in word and deed to express its depth.

How then frozen by the winds of time’s repeated majesty are we kept from ill by a pull to particular? What elixir made hopeful by the dawn escape against all odd from the urges lassoing our mind’s dragging us backward as necessary to the object of desire. Objects, desires what strange bedfellows these words that describe things when my fury burns for the living and urges would brave, storms, seas and battle to see her once again. What dream so dastardly lashes us firmly to following path whether by foot or heart or wing? What thing is this love that speaks so frail of its wanton will as it nervously searches the vacuous database of available phrase coming back with improper search words? We are slaves to something from which we meant no allegiance.

Were life to end as this love stands unanswered would then we portend the dangers involved? Or is it simply emotional this feeling that death would be preferred to the passionate pains within an unrequited heart? Where from did this disease inspire to entangle half the masses in quest and the rest in defense again it? What massive marevel awaits them who venture in hunt successful? What pledge regarded prayerfully is made to shape ones arrival? What peace grasps the heart that we may begin to relax the tensions threatening to tear us asunder? What is this Love that it overrides even the most powerful of evil intent, rendering them useless in the veil of simple smile? Where may I find defense against potency unmeasured?

Oh to fools this pleasure be. Where words are worthless, diamonds idolatry and whispers to long forgotten inference of inner children finally found. This folly is to death its parting never to be free from the prisons of adoration, the clutches of daydreaming the next encounter or finally finding freedom from worry, care or consideration. My clutches are ill acclaimed as these talons grip my very soul from which even smallest twitch futile. This is my self worship in the grasp of love so sweet then brutal, finding hope in the next gesture, mention or wink. My thoughts bridled my mouth useless my heart given to the dawn of forever waiting. I stand knowing a greater thing than this has been given for the asking. What creation to beset me with problems so torturously grand I cannot nor would not escape them? What creation to Creator owes the beauty and fealty of true love observed and answered?

The Cool

In an effort to be candid in clarion forthcoming, I will not make it through the incarceration of the American Spirit. A thing having lived freely on the plains running, fighting, hunting with its brethren is not designed for circus or zoo. Are we reduced to viewing in captivity the last of our species that we may have experienced the Mighty Lion, Gorilla or whale taking alms and performing tricks so we too may say that we remember the days when? An America without inalienable rights and the guts to lay down whatever must be given to defend them is a toothless wolverine. I am a man of God’s peace but do not mistake that meekness for the weakness that modern men display as they stand bye when their families are plundered.

The Wild calls and Grace answers from the depth of my heart that a man may not mistake or escape the truth of his nature. As God transforms me, making me more as Himself I realize the warrior within, as God too is a man of war, protecting those whom He loves and enforcing the declaration of His Commandments. We do not serve a meager representation of Sovereignty but the Everlasting God who knows the price and the value of the live that He once breathed into each of us. Why would we believe even momentarily that He would simply stand by and watch infants dispatched before birth for the price of self concern when He has thoroughly enforced that love of the unborn and the hate for the Sin of wickedness that would sacrifice them. How may we even briefly consider ourselves absent those reflections or free from God’s wrath against it?

I do not wish this time in man’s maturation to be about me, but in contemplation isn’t about each of us and how we may find our way through the path of God’s Intention? I am not of this world yet the passionate cry of its passing and the deep love for mankind calls the raging fury of my Spirit outward in defense of the innocent. This is how man was meant to end, with much of us determining it is time to reach beyond the base lusts and quests of man stuck within the rut of carnality to something beyond, something pure, unwanton craving fairness and a tenderness toward those who will never be the “fittest”. IN Man’s graduation of humanity he removes himself from center, determining that the survival of all or most is more important that than the dominance of supreme man. We have come to the crossroad’s where Love is greater guidance than the pang in my stomach.

As I am tempered, measured, tested perpetually and found inadequate, the reconstruction effort continues. It is time for man to evolve but not as some prompting from the primordial ooze, but as a call to finally become as our maker that we may for once everlasting, walk with Him in the cool of the afternoon. Thank you for loving me enough to allow me to defend the weak and find peace in the sacrifices of a man who has grown to know the Love of God for man.

Shanghaied

I scribble in the margins hoping to recall the key and suffer through the dark of night praying God remembers me. The days are mashed together and the weeks just fly on passed our sight, we give way to hope and plunder and resist with all our might, the fright that would have us surrender and the fear that wanders in. Don’t reach your destination before the prayerful pile in. The times they are such pleasure and the gifts just never end we were further toward surrender and soon became to mend, in friends and Brothers found we the courage to go on a song so often whispered kept us awake before the dawn. we sought the master’s pleasure while we struggled for the gold some found its way to memory but much of it we hold. incarcerated nightmares and dreams so loosely kept we looked upon the damsel and in her capture we all wept. The day had come so poorly and the weight of night soon fell we sat in abject disbelief of the stories he would tell. Standing on the top step we viewed the world below safe among the fires and freezing in the snow.

Where to my Captain send me to some foreign forgotten sea, to round up all the heroes to see what we shall be and the forest soon forgotten the mountain gently slept in the tunnels that we ventured our booty must be kept. Alas the time’s upon us we must run to foreign shores to fight so hard for freedom and hope for ending all the wars. There is no place for reason and fools have all been filled the master and his charge were so early caught and killed. We raged a war of anger and the fury in our hearts no one is spared the danger when the berserker Spirit starts. They suffered in their wisdom as their courage soon ran dry I had forgotten all my laughter and lost the will to cry. in the depths of my dissemble my truth had run its course it married the knight within me but this warrior found divorce We fell for lack of reason and answers soon were gone in the red of this grand morning we found the strength to sally on.

Rising two days later we piled up the dead our minds too slow to handle the lies that we’d been fed. The watershed was broken our cistern had run dry we forgot our hunger right off on our thirst we could rely. The passion of dark moments the fill of light’s warm hand in the shadows we rebuked them all the powers we misunderstand. They stood so firmly against us we buckled and we bent we’d forgotten our first promise and what allegiance meant. in this rebirth we found freedom from the men we had become, the churning guilt and bile we washed it down with rum. For a man can live two life times within this unholy shell if he can forget the sins been done him stomach’s turning from the smell. We all are everlasting together or apart, in weeping and the gnashing the rest shall play their part. For fortune has no favorites only God may bless a man, we had become the dogs of thunder stricken from His plan. In our conquest we found some measure of what a man may be but the agony and wonder would be the death of me.