Sunlight bright

like white sharp

rays made by squinting eye

greet me through

shower window

beyond words

impossible to express

even via compressed

download files

is

are the thoughts

feelings of

he runs the universe

and all things in it

every atom

every sub atomic particle

muons, lepiquarks

and deeper still

beyond imagination

i kneel

the superficial

the digestion of food

automatic

involuntary

like

all functions

i worship

i see him

the simplicity

of the human will

take

eat

sleep

shop til you drop

today and tomorrow

rinse

repeat

LA burns

the east Freezes

volcanoes erupt

the sea rages

man sleeps

until calamity strikes

his own backyard

and even then

runs

as he should,

and then

rinse repeat

Lord

please place

in our hearts

a need for you

the page i've written about,

it has turned

after it,

many more are to come

but first the nightmare

following then the good

the exposures

will be seen worldwide

the disclosures

of those who have manipulated

behind the scenes

controlling our mind

finances

freedoms

there has been a victory

justice

like a freight train

has descended

here come de judge,

from a celestial throne

the eating of cake

will not last long

the twilight night

is to come

the remaining reptilians,

swamp creatures,

remaining

hiding

lurking

in the shadows of our political buildings,

our institutions

in secret myriad dens,

though many inhabited

by many righteous ones,

who support the love of children

and humanity,

all over the world,

those in mind control,

these types,

the swamp creatures,

will meet their demise

by the hand of mighty warriors . . .

we will see it,

both physical land ones,

and invisible mighty ones

at the behest

of the captain of the host

the Lord himself

a red sea moment,

the world,

land sea and air

will see it,

pillars of fire

ice wind

fire and quake

shaking

kingdom come . . .

this page will fully turn,

along with others

turning

turning

to the ending chapter

of this era

we have sweet respite

even in the midst of hidden dangers

for now . . .

brief /

/ / / be on the alert fellow righteous ones

friends of truth,

equity honesty and love

the hidden ones who crossed borders

they are still here and about

both sea coasts . . .

in the sky

look up

look to the one who has rescued

and will rescue us

when the curtain falls

the night will not last long,

this mid page will too turn,

at its end,

there is a wondrous epilogue

Could be chocolate,

Maybe looks

Might be something simple,

Maybe catches your eye:

“Oh damn, so pretty!”

Like someone a rival took

You want it too

You need it back

Maybe you never had it

So you just want it

Something trivial

Maybe turned to something big

Makes no matter what it is

Nothing’s hid from temptation’s

Grip

If it’s small it can change

Turn to big and appear

As she or he

Disappear and reappear

In your feet, or in your hands

In your loins or

In your heart

Temptation fills the earth

And sky

Fills all minds and

Envelopes

All living thing’s reality

Common to all humanity

Works with good

Works with gold and silver

Even dirt,

Wood or junk

Even dreams

Temptation overruns

Small minds, big minds

Brave and coward

It breeds with everyone

Little boys

Little girls

Men and women

Follows all to the grave

There’s no limit what it can do

Temptation hides when you’re awake

Growls when you’re afraid

Lulls you in your sleep

Robs you of your worth

Making you its slave

Whips you with what you crave

Rapes you repeatedly

Then mocks you with its sneer

Temptation shames you before a lover

Then entices you with her nakedness

Burns you with her scent

Tantalizes you with her lust

Pulls you with her claws

Tortures you with your own eye

Temptation catches you

With your own snare

Humiliates you

With your own pride

She will kill your family with extortion

Enslave your thoughts

Swamp mud suckin’ at your feet

Lookin’ like a clown in defeat

Thrown out into the street

For all to see your nakedness

Skeletons dancing

Leaving your closets bare

Temptation has you blushing

To the devil’ din

Pulling, tearing

Ripping, shredding

Parasitic, parallactic you

Sucks your blood

Sucks your groin

Stains you with her bile

Perfumes you with her smile

Caresses you will her silken skin

Climaxes you with her guile

Then you vomit the next day

As you reach for her another way

You stagger and you swim

In desperate efforts to win

Over her

She drags you down again

And again

She holds you there

You don’t care

You let her,

You’ve said you won’t a million times

And yet you push in again

Again and again . . . and sin

Again

Enticed again by her naked grin

violins' echoing

dreamlike in my spirit

they cry

they moan

they wail

stirs my soul to pain

tearing my beating heart

a voice sings

it floats with the music

like a specter,

a liquid like

dirge

now it swoons my heart

to melting

of its beating exudes,

a yearning

a haunting love

unbridgeable by unfathomable

distance

separation

the voice as it softly wails

in song,

overwhelms my soul,

it floats with the tune

it merges with melody,

this voice

and music,

softly

rising

to the strum

of mexican bass guitar

captivates me in chorus . . .

". . . take flowers, . . ."

his voice gently

flows

pleads,

with violins' cries

". . . to my tomb

take, . . .

i gently request,

your flowers,

that you

my beloved,

bring

be sure they're violets,

a wreath of roses

and gardenias"

"oh,

how i love you

my dear,

please do not forget me,

you and your flowers

and nothing more"

"perchance,

if you go to that remote,

the lonely,

that country place,

to the remote,

wherein lies my grave

where now,

the dead reside,"

"i say,

'again,

if perchance

you go to that,

in that lonely place,

there,

find

my solitary tomb,"

"take there

flowers,

gardenias, . . .

and a wreath of roses,

made by your own hands,

your flower gifts

with you,

and nothing more

and do not forget me"

" . . . oh,

how i love you,"

violins

echo in the distance

their subtle muffled trumpets,

softly sound

to wistful accompaniment,

of rhymical bass guitar

his voice

it wails pure,

swirling flows hypnotic

streams of a love

separated

. . . your voice,

my sweet friend,

i hear from your tomb,

your strong passion

resounds, . . .

"i love you,

if you go to the remote lands

if you go to the place

where i reside

therein in repose

lies my grave"

the saucers

are real

the drones are real

and the lies are real

the cia

the fbi

the deepest of state,

are really deceptive

they have tesla's

secrets,

withheld,

unconstitutionally,

from,

joe public,

ours,

you and me

don't believe,

their lies

there are no aliens

only humans

created by

God

and they have tesla's

secrets

in a vault

due their greed

don't buy the false,

flag

it will all be disclosed

the manipulators will stumble,

we will see,

Truth

and the hidden technology

will be ours

away with

the internal combustion engine,

in with electromagnetic energy

yes,

the ether

free energy

a new economy

a new world

though brief

a new world

renewed freedom

thank you Lord

your global reset is,

right around the corner

the eyebrows

spaced vertically

and horizontally

in perfectly

beautiful

geometric symmetry

no random chance

no supposed millennia

of supposed evolution

the skin

a marvel

the human body's

largest biological organ

covering

the face

a nose positioned

just right

just above

beautiful lips

gorgeously formed

marvelous muscles beneath

sculpting the beauty

of woman

oh,

the eyes

another marvel

exquisite too

especially contrasted

eyeliner

and mascara on

the face of woman

cheeks of face

forehead

oh, stunning hair

so many textures

so many colors

so many scents

scents of woman

her chin

her dimple thereon

or not

sometimes a mole

on her upper lip

or elsewhere

her ivory

or ebony

or any in between shade

of skin

oh how i love

creation

oh how i love God

who formed us

in his image

the making of

a human face

is not easy

what's easy,

is a monstrous

thing

requiring no mind

of what is good

a thing we know

inside each of us

defining beautiful

construct,

we all know beauty

we all know chaos

the so called theory

of evolution

leads to chaos

a beguiling

and vexation

and insult

to the creator

who is Love

versus

to hell

with the theory

of evolution

and its manifold

lies

thank you Father

for your Creation

a shot

with a boy's bb gun

into the air

betwixt the astringent,

dust encrusted foliage,

of the tamarisk tree

what for?

why did the pellet

find its mark?

into a heart,

of sweet sparrow

made by God,

who knows all things,

from the hairs

on the crown

of each of our heads

as in,

where the word says,

He knows all things,

even when

a sparrow

to the ground falls

the steel,

copper coated

mini ball,

shot

through the still

summer air

upward

at 30 feet per second

in rapid

slow motion frames,

of sight, . . .

it first touched

his tender

feathered breast

a frozen image

in time

suspended

little bird was still,

alive . . .

until a micro second later,

its sweet dark skin,

indented

to violence . . .

in another

in sequenced sight

of frames,

he saw how,

the entrance of

said steel,

into,

tore

sweet capillaries,

and veins,

though delicate tissues

all,

comprised of

myriad cells,

flowed in a jet

of internally ruptured

pressures of,

living blood

into the beating heart,

of sparrow's precious

life

he fell to the dirty,

dusty ground

the boy lifted him

with no remorse,

no understanding,

and tossed him

limp

lifeless,

again

onto the ground

years later,

he sighted a singing,

yellow breasted meadow lark,

took aim of precision

from 300 yards,

.22 caliber marksman

the meadow lark,

his singing stopped

the young man

strode to the felled,

dead

bird

picked him up

onto the palm his hand,

its limp head,

once erect

and filled

with life,

praising the Father,

who made him

to sing forth with voice,

melodious,

on a western knoll.

of remote and barren hill

silenced

to dead still

by a missile of lead

oh, . . .

to turn back time,

to stop

and reverse,

back to the gun

with no shot fired

but no,

time is irreversible . . .

on his hand

deepest red

a droplet of blood

he peered

transfixed upon,

a reflection of sunlit

spark

his own face reflected

like the clearest

of mirror,

because,

on this precious

bead of blood,

a bubble,

a tiny sphere,

reflecting

a quantum world

of pensive,

celestial reflection

a conviction of,

why? . . .

why, . . .

did i kill this bird?

oh, . . .

to turn back time,

to stop

and reverse,

back to the gun

with no shot fired

but no,

time is irreversible . . .

swept with understanding,

he wept

and vowed,

never again will i

mindlessly destroy,

what God

has wrought

/ / / and now,

years later

he knows . . .

as the Word states,

death,

it certainly is,

reversible

but

only by the Power

of His own

Blood / / /

there are no aliens,

as in ufology,

as in non human,

extraterrestrials;

other than,

who are,

angels

and

demons

invisible beings,

just like the air,

we breathe

surrounding us

like a plane there

suspended

like the movement

of things called feelings,

axioms of truth,

like love

or hate,

accepted or dismissed,

yet true

we are,

in reality,

aware of,

truth and lie,

good and evil,

axioms of,

spirituality

and physicality,

one is pleasure,

the other pain, . . .

simple,

and complicated,

all in one,

paradoxical

conundrums,

of the ages . . .

. . . one burns your feet,

and corrupts your soul,

the other,

the holy one,

peter's friend,

washes your feet

and cleanses your soul

the holy one

whose word is truth,

knows and makes,

the rotation

of galaxies,

and even the universe,

. . . yet,

he chose

to die for you . . . ,

and me, . . . ,

and,

if one is willing,

this great Lord,

strong,

and yet humble,

will wash your feet

Cold hard heart

it was,

cold and solid set

in me . . .

and frozen it was,

with no rest,

this very morning

as i went about,

here and there,

body hard and tense,

the toil

the pain

no place

no time

to rest

upsetting pace

at each turn

to face

yet another

chore

and test

to overcome

yet trip and fall

i did

to pull and rip

of my weary heart

to the boggling

seeming endless

routines vain

repeat refrain

myriad pains

. . .

. . . and then subtly,

with no sudden notice,

like a child's hand,

as with a prodigy,

he touching ivory keys

white and black

piano's voice

in the spirit wind,

faintly,

i heard,

in my heart

at first,

in its strings

as it were,

in its blood filled beats,

slightly tugging

ever so gently,

like the wisp of a breath

. . . it moved into my veins

and then my mind

into my very soul

the tone of this

a child's piano keys,

every so beautifully played,

its wordless song,

perfectly tuned and timed,

oh so divine,

the melody's keys tapped

in synchronous symphony,

burst like a star,

and lit my heart back to life

with,

Oh, holy night / / /

. . . i had stumbled

and tumbled,

and grieved,

and pained,

in complaint's

refrains,

despicable plight,

tainted soul,

from world torn . . .

like so many

countless times

countless, i say . . .

/ / /

but,

and now,

to the music,

the tune,

oh , . . .

so divine

oh,

Oh holy night / / /

i went from cynical,

in a moment,

to love, . . .

infused,

divine,

into my blood

into my mind,

to my soul

and made it soar

with sobbing tears

i fell

helpless

into the comforting arms

of invisible love

/ / /

oh, . . .

holy night,

the stars are brightly shining,

it is the night,

of our dear savior's birth,

for yonder breaks

a new and glorious morn'

i made my self soar

high above the plains

an' looked down below,

far,

to view the pinpoint,

blue mixed crimson,

yellow lights,

flickering like

fiery sparks of,

red spawn

like the dust of struck torches

and canvas soaked

kerosine . . .

an' saw swirling spirits,

swarming,

affecting

those left alive

though walking

dead,

like the specters of

yesterday's

yellowed newspaper,

brittle,

stained,

an' still pungent

like it's aged inked cellulose,

torpid,

from repetitious,

mindless,

walking,

talking,

doing

but

not doing . . .

the dusty ground

shook

i lost the balance of

my mind

voices screamed

cars careened

chaotic scene

an' those

who still walked

came alive

at his glorious

return

pray,

whilst time,

exists . . .

to escape,

the great quake