Peace be unto you. There was a time when many of Godís subjects hollered and cried however there were no tears among the righteous. There were crevices in the body and man did sweat in summer and fall.† But the righteous can see all as the heart has great vision.
THOSE THAT EXPECTORATE & SQUAT ON FREE SPEECH
(5-9-2008 by Carl A. Patton)
The man stood full of lost world
morbid fatalistic sentiments as he transfixed
on things of no value to principles, honesty
and what God has ordered.
Who are these people? The earth
was a place that saw nothing as itís
subjects thought they saw all. Just
how much could you degrade the law?
The hogs wallowed in the hog pen
with the elusive pigs. The hogís trough
never stayed full as the gluttons wanted it
all and were never satisfied with, I am full but
my belly is empty.
I saw the cowís the horses at peace
grazing upon the land. They grazed in
the grass. I wanted and dreamed of shaking, a
look to the divine, farmerís hand for staying on,
The land. Somebody knew about the Creation and
cherished and loves rolling hillsides and mountain
goats and country back and front yards that extended
as vast fields of corn, soybeans and white cotton.
The birds of the field squatted from the sky. The soil
was turned annually and the cows ate year-round so
did the hogs as they passed waste,
Upon already man-made dung piles
as this was heaped as fertilizer on
those of less numbers, fame or fortune
that sought the freedom to talk.
However this was still a good thing
because in this land there was more
liberty to sing and talk than most
ever imagined. Most thought of nothing.
The righteous knew this as the Word
stood Supreme. I knew none of the
great masters the philosophers that did
not know of the great Creation. They,
Also rode an independent horse as they
tended to peace among the cows. The
clouds never hung low are heavy as the
rain fell ever so softly, gently playing,
Upon the tree tops and making an
endless water carpet on green grass.
I thought of that righteous farmer again.
I knew he could smell spring time.
I know he was an authority on summer time.
The fall he relished as the harvest extended
to winter and the light from the snow brighten
the night time along with the moon.
Going now to another phase as this room
and great outdoorís fanned in shame as the
odor of fresh dung plied up and the lost
man spit on the ground to the chagrin,
Of no one. Meanwhile I saw transparent
reality. Could man look through Truth?
Did he see Free Speech along the way?
Many wore crystalline eyes as lucid were,
The eyes but they saw nothing. Somehow
though as the looking glass was reversed
there were living shadows of fake friends.
They came as zombies from all directions.
John welcomed solitude as he embraced
the light of the moon. He then stepped over
the fresh piles of human waste as he moved
on to the lush valley of life that led to the,
Promised Land. Here he knew all the names
and love penetrated the air and all hearts
were of gold. There were no thoughts of
swallowing up the young and no burdens,
Were carried as they were laid on an altar
that had previously blessed their relief.
Here the songs were always beautiful songs
as the Delta Blues was sung no more.
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