[No 'post-6pm' input (last thing written), until t'morrow, 'On Dating'. Truthscoop 'Sunday School', On Racism. With that, a list of all the songs and subjects missed in 2020. Short comment/intro on each, before..., On Racism.Unrealistic about distractions and lacking discipline is the reason. God help, and 'lesson am learning'.
God willing, and if can get off the compulsive, Fatback song.]
Undeterred to say, what no-one else with the prominence, dares. Who else but Lord Jamar? Thank God. Up and on the latest, 'Confuse City'. Lord Jamar, tells it, and tells it well.
It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding),Bob Dylan. DARKNESS AT THE BREAK OF NOON SHADOWS EVEN THE SILVER SPOON THE HANDMADE BLADE, THE CHILD’S BALLOON ECLIPSES BOTH THE SUN AND MOON TO UNDERSTAND YOU KNOW TOO SOON THERE IS NO SENSE IN TRYING POINTED THREATS, THEY BLUFF WITH SCORN SUICIDE REMARKS ARE TORN FROM THE FOOL’S GOLD MOUTHPIECE THE HOLLOW HORN PLAYS WASTED WORDS, PROVES TO WARN THAT HE NOT BUSY BEING BORN IS BUSY DYING TEMPTATION’S PAGE FLIES OUT THE DOOR YOU FOLLOW, FIND YOURSELF AT WAR WATCH WATERFALLS OF PITY ROAR YOU FEEL TO MOAN BUT UNLIKE BEFORE YOU DISCOVER THAT YOU’D JUST BE ONE MORE PERSON CRYING SO DON’T FEAR IF YOU HEAR A FOREIGN SOUND TO YOUR EAR IT’S ALRIGHT, MA, I’M ONLY SIGHING AS SOME WARN VICTORY, SOME DOWNFALL PRIVATE REASONS GREAT OR SMALL CAN BE SEEN IN THE EYES OF THOSE THAT CALL TO MAKE ALL THAT SHOULD BE KILLED TO CRAWL WHILE OTHERS SAY DON’T HATE NOTHING AT ALL EXCEPT HATRED DISILLUSIONED WORDS LIKE BULLETS BARK AS HUMAN GODS AIM FOR THEIR MARK MAKE EVERYTHING FROM TOY GUNS THAT SPARK TO FLESH-COLORED CHRISTS THAT GLOW IN THE DARK IT’S EASY TO SEE WITHOUT LOOKING TOO FAR THAT NOT MUCH IS REALLY SACRED WHILE PREACHERS PREACH OF EVIL FATES TEACHERS TEACH THAT KNOWLEDGE WAITS CAN LEAD TO HUNDRED-DOLLAR PLATES GOODNESS HIDES BEHIND ITS GATES BUT EVEN THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES SOMETIMES MUST HAVE TO STAND NAKED AN’ THOUGH THE RULES OF THE ROAD HAVE BEEN LODGED IT’S ONLY PEOPLE’S GAMES THAT YOU GOT TO DODGE AND IT’S ALRIGHT, MA, I CAN MAKE IT ADVERTISING SIGNS THEY CON YOU INTO THINKING YOU’RE THE ONE THAT CAN DO WHAT’S NEVER BEEN DONE THAT CAN WIN WHAT’S NEVER BEEN WON MEANTIME LIFE OUTSIDE GOES ON ALL AROUND YOU YOU LOSE YOURSELF, YOU REAPPEAR YOU SUDDENLY FIND YOU GOT NOTHING TO FEAR ALONE YOU STAND WITH NOBODY NEAR WHEN A TREMBLING DISTANT VOICE, UNCLEAR STARTLES YOUR SLEEPING EARS TO HEAR THAT SOMEBODY THINKS THEY REALLY FOUND YOU A QUESTION IN YOUR NERVES IS LIT YET YOU KNOW THERE IS NO ANSWER FIT TO SATISFY, INSURE YOU NOT TO QUIT TO KEEP IT IN YOUR MIND AND NOT FORGET THAT IT IS NOT HE OR SHE OR THEM OR IT THAT YOU BELONG TO ALTHOUGH THE MASTERS MAKE THE RULES FOR THE WISE MEN AND THE FOOLS I GOT NOTHING, MA, TO LIVE UP TO FOR THEM THAT MUST OBEY AUTHORITY THAT THEY DO NOT RESPECT IN ANY DEGREE WHO DESPISE THEIR JOBS, THEIR DESTINIES SPEAK JEALOUSLY OF THEM THAT ARE FREE CULTIVATE THEIR FLOWERS TO BE NOTHING MORE THAN SOMETHING THEY INVEST IN WHILE SOME ON PRINCIPLES BAPTIZED TO STRICT PARTY PLATFORM TIES SOCIAL CLUBS IN DRAG DISGUISE OUTSIDERS THEY CAN FREELY CRITICIZE TELL NOTHING EXCEPT WHO TO IDOLIZE AND THEN SAY GOD BLESS HIM WHILE ONE WHO SINGS WITH HIS TONGUE ON FIRE GARGLES IN THE RAT RACE CHOIR BENT OUT OF SHAPE FROM SOCIETY’S PLIERS CARES NOT TO COME UP ANY HIGHER BUT RATHER GET YOU DOWN IN THE HOLE THAT HE’S IN BUT I MEAN NO HARM NOR PUT FAULT ON ANYONE THAT LIVES IN A VAULT BUT IT’S ALRIGHT, MA, IF I CAN’T PLEASE HIM OLD LADY JUDGES WATCH PEOPLE IN PAIRS LIMITED IN SEX, THEY DARE TO PUSH FAKE MORALS, INSULT AND STARE WHILE MONEY DOESN’T TALK, IT SWEARS OBSCENITY, WHO REALLY CARES PROPAGANDA, ALL IS PHONY WHILE THEM THAT DEFEND WHAT THEY CANNOT SEE WITH A KILLER’S PRIDE, SECURITY IT BLOWS THE MINDS MOST BITTERLY FOR THEM THAT THINK DEATH’S HONESTY WON’T FALL UPON THEM NATURALLY LIFE SOMETIMES MUST GET LONELY MY EYES COLLIDE HEAD-ON WITH STUFFED GRAVEYARDS, FALSE GODS, I SCUFF AT PETTINESS WHICH PLAYS SO ROUGH WALK UPSIDE-DOWN INSIDE HANDCUFFS KICK MY LEGS TO CRASH IT OFF SAY OKAY, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH WHAT ELSE CAN YOU SHOW ME? AND IF MY THOUGHT-DREAMS COULD BE SEEN THEY’D PROBABLY PUT MY HEAD IN A GUILLOTINE BUT IT’S ALRIGHT, MA, IT’S LIFE, AND LIFE ONLY.
Apologies for last night, 'flunked out'. Better I get done, by..., the evening, later it gets, get lazy.
S'pose, should say; Working with my hands, and 4pm, be out until about 5pm.
On an 'online read and talk poetry get-together'; tonight. So, ought, to do-what and the post, before 7.30 pm.
Patchen, Bukowski, Cummings..., Robinson Jeffers. Chose an 'RJ', sounds good.
The poets of Liverpool? Brian Patten made a bang of an impression and was good-timing. Pre-contemplation, days; coming through, with and to, God -time.
Yeah..., Stewart Henderson.
Lovely man and the equal-gorgeous' Carol, his wife. Top poet for Gospel interest and inspiration. Top poet, 'period'.
‘do you remember the Shire…?',Stewart Henderson When this is over,
the void days and the paucity evenings,
the brittle crematoriums, the blank gravesides,
the rites of consolation restored.
When this is over,
When the closed churches open,
with the recumbent pews polished and upright once more,
Will this lead to an unstitching of
our previous, crude patterns,
the inglorious forgeries of ourselves,
our addictive displays, our daily, helpless presentations?
For this may be a rebellious span
when we dismantle the catwalks
on to which we’ve been conned;
to return to the once when and more, the kosher, the aboriginal.
This callous visitation is, a spotlight
on our ghostly accumulation
our riven emptiness
our bleating nonsense.
And if there are to be
carnival, chrysalis months of metamorphosis,
then we must become our own invasive surgeons
seeing what tissue is deficient,
what sinews are rank
Yet even in this passing now
the miracle, morse code song
of the woodpecker has been liberated,
no longer muted
by our expansion, our entitled noise.
He is our audio watercolour on which
to gaze, and to hear.
He is drumming for a mate at the zenith of Spring,
he pulsates original.
And for those of us who are spared,
envisage revelation, await incandescence
Savour the rain, relish the mundane
it will glow newly profound.
a grass verge dandelion transfused into a champagne sunflower.
…and our flags, swords and spears will sink, then rise as water lilies…
Close the selection. All that remains is 'writing', the primo purpose of the two blogs, i.e. 'PAS' and 'TS'.
Rewind. YEAH J.C.C., and, ...
What a listen, and the times we're in. With a 'happ'd-upon' and Cliff, first.
'Last orders'; Denise Williams.
'Wow, Williams', more like.
[Note. Before offline until about 5 or 6 pm.]
Got to 'get on' but saw Kenneth Copeland on the sidebar, present a prophetic word that implied God, talked of the disease... Oh, in unison with MSM, i.e., 'Govt.s' media.'
When is something 'not' from God? For sure?
Any presuming, God would be unaware of the facts and science, and to go-along? Would make God the liar,and God, ne'er is. Be like believing God can 'make a circle', 'square'. Create matter, greater than the strength God has. Or, confirm the need to accept the fakery and subterfuge that dominates the C-19 scandel and attached, 'scare-machine'.
God speaks through people (sometimes), once, he even spoke human language through an animal, (a donkey). Whatever and however it could happen, it comes with true/truth-based discernment.
Whatever C-19 is (?), no valid and conclusive evidence makes it a monster disease. So it can't itself, be quelled and overcome by God, in coordination and co-working, with people praying.
It's an annual 'monster', and in 2020, declared a ferocious threat to humanity.
Kenneth of all people knows: Pre-TV people prayed. The TV-trapped believer is in a un-holy obsession with substitutes for active and present, praying.
Three prophetic warning-words.
(... and these, to myself, although Telly isn't the trap but research on the internet).
Spectating, spectacles, and stimulation (and little or no, discernment).
What can we say? How about:
Six p.m. and God Willing, next on and up. Thanks for the interest.