JesusInMotion

JesusInMotion

We have some Idea of GOD; but most people want to PLACE GOD up on a Throne "ABOVE" and keep GOD there an old man with white hair. But a Jesus Crucified now risen from the Dead appears much differant. He is ready to ride a White Winged Horse into the last Battle for the World will soon be judged by a living GOD with a Very Sharp Sword to bring to Earth his justice putting down the Rule of Men. The last act of Sedition of Satanic Forces do not stand in battle with a living GOD the outcome there is certain you will lose your final certain in the facts the final judgement. What does a GOD do? Is he a silent sitter, doing absoulutley nothing while he sits just waiting for the WORD of Judgement. Perhaps he listens to the Prayers to the prayers all the prayers of all the sinners saved what we may think is random navigation of the universe his thoughts colliding worlds into the stars. I like to think that the Ruler of the Universe does not let it spin one revolution without a loving Ruler at that Helm to give it meaning what is so puzzeling? In the silence of the atmosphere of GOD the IMage of the Throne may be larger than a MAN, try a man there being GOD. Get the idea. He may be longer than the Universe Larger inside your mind He sits the size of just one man. Perhaps the Universe condensed like as a soup can sized Orb of muticolored light a small round ball with every Solar System every Planet there Imagine Kneeling Down. GOD speaks, to me my Jesus Speaks to me Mye GOD in Heaven Speaks a question. What? What is it CharlaX? What do you want to knoe? What are you doing Jesus? GOD is silent. Then wait wait wait for it. Jesus Speaks. I am ruling the Universe. That glowing ball see it spinning there spinning changing turning Colors one by one over and over. I will be glad when it is over with and done. Waiting on the Throne to Speak, Waiting for the VOices of GOD to come to me. TO tell me when to go and get it over with anon. CharlaX Wept. JesusinMotion.

ClownandLeutinant

ClownandLeutinant

A PAroday of Asimov
Empire and Foundation
Braves travel great distances between the planets of Donk. They must use wireless there. The Clown came into the glen the Maiden noticed him the Brave stood up by fire protectively he scowled down at the Clown ignoring him was found a pantomime he drew a heart in air but such a sad face on Clown made his white face an agony he finally speaks a lost Tribal toungue comes painfully " a heart, a woman with a heart, and thats not all, a mind with which to think good thoughts; iff trouble comes I think this woman would come to aid, this total stranger, even this sad Clown face in danger." The Brave takes time to look at trail the Army man on horses there. The Leutinant dismounted two men on either side of him with horse whips at the ready. By this time the tribe was coming to the glen all about the men they stood the whole Imageination. The Clown was standing loose a goose about to cook. The Brave stepped closer to the Leutinant smiled up into disaster as the Army pulled his gun from holster Brave was faster grabbed the gun and twister. He stood there as the Leutinant smiled and said we come from Donk. What about that. Brave smiled back we come from Tribe take look about you Army guy. I am keeping the Clown send DONK to me, what about that. They fell all about the place whipping the tribal people with the horse whips. Soon it was over and the Leutinant left without his gun in holster gone. Brave looked down at piece in hand he wept. Sorry for what his nerves now felt. The Army played a band happy that they got to hit someone. The Maiden and the Clown and the Brave all went back to Village Square to use the wireless there until DONK was sure to come. To find his Clown. FOundation and Empire. The Leutinant and the Clown.

JesusJBCrisis

JesusJBCrisis

September 17
1966 WOW what a young man u aer
SURPRIZE
I'm turning 43 on September 17!
People walk into walls. They fall down slapping. They wear aprons only at home. They enter laughing. This photographic poet makes pictures of poetry people. For those of us in the Cleveland Remote Area he is like a god. Serving up parts of places we can never visit. Serving up people we should never see. Helping to make poems come alive I love the videos on you tube sometimes better than to read the text on blogger we can chose to keep them later view them when no hurry has arrived. A Saint has to be included as a Catholic OH SIR you have been nominated by this hope, r. On A List. He stands alone or with someone. An englishe accente. A microphone a camera a tripod left at home. I love you SIR. Its not enought to be a Roman Soldier bringging love to hearts. You must almost be a starving artiste a most unhappy Blartist with this world. Happy Birthday JesusJBCrisis at your home.

ThePlay'sTheThing

ThePlay'sTheThing

The Actor must be HUGE upon the stage foursquare not curtained on fore the world must keep on going on! The Play! The Play's The Thing. Fore certain. Bet you thought I got it wrong this is what William Shakespeare wrote. Perhaps CharlaX got it from his head inn hearte was felt a lesson plan? I reasoned out this attribute this statesmeant it just has got to be from him? To be or not to be was this the final question questing certain answers come back againe to hearte aparte frome judgemente smarte? To be or not to be was this an Actor not a poet homeless? OUT OUT brief candle flame floating in the snowe of wintere whims thus tractore beame from GOD to call home a Jesus Soul. One moore poet gone to home, a writer formed, a poet gone. The Play, The play's the thing. The Play. Fore all the world's a stage and every Poet is the Actor speaking in his written wordes. The sorrow borne of acuallity his depression leaking out and biting you who know. THEPLAY'STHETHING. The solitude of self-imposed sanctitude a life awry the useless knowledge leaking leaking gone. Like as to water in the rocks or Stone bleeding down perhaps the loss of too much needed blood has left the home no Garden but Entombe. The Play, The Play's the thing. Shakespeares a secret Christian under Bards robes wore a Catholic Rosary and Cross. The way he bellowed at Authority striving to be taken thus dispatched to heaven pearl gate to be a Hebrew slave among the liveing dead. The play's the thing. What woulld poor William say to us today. He was not a Poet making rhyme but a playwright writting times putting young lads in NUNS outfits on stage for no young women fit to spit his words onstage, the boys falsetto sent the audience to fits and giggles. The play the play the play (then falls) the play the play (the final curtain).