At the five-o-clock point of the colon is where I am stuck like an overgrown presence of pain That can’t be gotten rid of. I simply must wait. In the meantime I’m losing the will to create. It would seem that this body is on a campaign To teach me a damned lesson… perhaps not to swear.
World War Three in slow motion is instant world news. It mirrors well the conflict that rages in me. Must there be some connection wherein I may find A solution to offer relief of some kind? Doctors say that I’m normal. It’s hard to agree, But if I don’t, it will be a battle I’ll lose.
The Movement is ongoing and awfully slow Like the news. My world issues are known by no one But my own consciousness in a state of duress. By my writing about this I may gain success In at least finding humor and ultimate fun With this living dilemma wherein I must grow.
I can treat my trick muscle with comic relief Of a kind that is corny yet tickles the mind Into instant exposure to some healing grace. It remains ever important that I embrace Every wonderful thought and feeling I can find And pray that the presence of my pain will be brief.
Do you like working for the money that you get? Indeed, do you like money and how well it flows Into your life experience? Is the feeling One of bliss in knowing you’re fully deserving? Can you just allow all that its blessing bestows? Or must you justify it due to your mindset?
Is the justifying that you’re doing your way Of allowing? Can you feel that there’s enough room To play with? You can shift your perspective so that You can be more allowing. You’ll get that down pat. Then less justification you’ll need to assume. Feeling good about money enlivens your day.
There are those who work hard and don’t have a whole lot. There are others who work little and are wealthy. The latter are the ones who have figured it out. It is not about action. They know beyond doubt. It’s about your vibration and being healthy. If you want change to happen, do give it a shot.
The real work that you do is about energy… About habits and attitudes and feeling good. It’s telling the new story the way it should be… Just as you want it to play out and exactly As is by divine forces it is understood. Thoughts of recession cannot be reality.
In four times that it takes for a thought to become Registered in the psyche, magic can take place In the way of pure freedom of seeing just how My own thoughts that are negative must disallow The least bit of attention. I know that my grace Is in going more general. I’ll beat that drum.
If I start off by thinking of just having fun… People laughing and moving about gleefully… Then more thoughts like that follow. But if I get stuck In a negative thought stream, am I out of luck? Noticing when I am there may train me to be Mindful of how, in general, life is to run.
If my thought takes a downturn, and I act quickly, I can simply stop thinking it before it grows Into much of a monster. I can start again Going general until I reach the point when I can do it unconsciously. Who would oppose Having heart healing focus? That wouldn’t be me.
The specifics fill into my general view Of this life that I’m given as I play along Not opposing the present. The way things may be May not be the reason for my not being free To live life any better than utterly wrong. In a handful of seconds, all can become new.
If I feel I’m disgusting in some subtle ways That delve into more obvious character flaws Among even those I know of who I belong Do I then reevaluate where I’ve gone wrong? Have I failed at obeying spiritual laws? Why do I fear someone giving me too much praise?
When I know what I don’t want, I know what I do. There is nothing illogical or incorrect About this fundamental statement. It tells me That with any one thing, there are two ways to see. What I do want is the proper one to select If I am to enjoy life. This has to be true.
I invite supreme judgement through others like me. Self-incrimination for all wrong I have done Seems to be what I’m acting out. Never have I Been in such a soul searching. Need I wonder why? I shall feel better when deep purging has begun To expel evil spirits and set my own free.
They do not mean disaster. They are meant to guide Me from acting contrary to all I’ve become. People do transmit loving thoughts regularly. As I focus less on their judgements I can be Receptive to the blessings that clearly come from My ability innate to be terrified.
The digestion of life comes with issues for some. Their existence intolerance debilitates. Feeling stuck in the plumbing each waking moment Moves them to take such actions that they may lament. Fortunate is the person who eliminates With no problems like obstructions to overcome.
Who can speak of resistance to natural flow? All who breathe and draw sustenance know how it feels For the muscular rhythm to pass stuff along. If it’s not working properly, something is wrong With the mind – not the body. The spirit that heals Is at work at each moment. It’s good that all know.
Chicken soup and disaster do not separate. At the pit of the body the two become one. This becomes problematic. How can I not feed On the things that I don’t want? How can I be freed From the stuff that is in there that feels like a ton? I’m so backed up on living that I can’t see straight.
Proper diet is indicated – but what of? By denying it and putting on a fake show Or by beating myself up for not feeling well I create malnutrition and cannot compel The least bit of a presence. The good that I know Is that I’m being guided by infinite love.
Nothing is wrong in Kansas as far as I see, And I must see it that way if I’m to survive. Transformation of vision comes with some practice. Things that I believe wrongly I’m free to dismiss. All that I know I’m ready to sort and archive. Everything I belong to becomes part of me.
There are people who care about me that I know. It is not out of pretense that they express it. Had I not thought that these people had it in them? The light of my life force shines but ever so dim… Much too often and too much for me to admit. Is it time for what I hold to kindly let go?
Awakened to the true love that does surround me, Do I feel not deserving still due to my shame? And can I show my sorrow, although it is true, To myself and the universe? What can I do To receive people’s love? Does this life that I claim Have a sense of direction spiritually?
If my life had no guidance then would it be so That I have many choices to throw me off track? If I offer the question, my path I must know At a much deeper level. It’s time I let go Of constant self-undoing and never look back At the life gone asunder played out long ago.
“What’s Your Social?”, it’s asked, and there is a response. Everyone knows the drill and will play by the rules. ‘Your Social’ is unique enough to cast a spell On the physical consciousness. It does this well It’s expected that all behave like molecules That are totally driven by their needs and wants.
It’s a personal question, so one must take care Not to disclose the puzzle piece of the heartbeat To unauthorized persons. No one wonders why Nor is there any problem. By law all comply. Can one mess with a system that cannot be beat? Anyone thinking they can had better beware.
One Of Us or of any is meant to be one Of all ones to be thought of… meaning everything From the one who is singular to all there are. One need not know their oneness by looking too far Into rational thought and literal meaning. The conceptual mantra can get a lot done.
It’s no mark of acceptance – just of inclusion Within orders created by one’s circumstance. To be known as One Of Us feels like I belong To something that has meaning. All that I’ve done wrong Tells me strongly that I will get no second chance To behave in a better way with everyone.
Simple, self-solving puzzles make up the machine That makes up all existence. I’m given this day To be guided the right way in all that I do. If I can get excited in my getting through The next segment of consciousness, there I would stay. As an evolving engine, I am a bit green.
Life is all up in this mess I seem to perceive With my physical senses. The bits and pieces, As they fall into place automatically, Move my mind to solutions that I now can’t see. If I look at things this way, my mood increases. There is infinite power in what I believe.
People suffer and prosper upon this same pile. Most eyes are meant to see it much more than are not… How the plague of injustice stands ever erect Against basic humanity, yet we connect To bring love and support. Someone’s sinister plot Is an ultimate failure that can’t last a while.
That this day is a blessing is already done. It is I who must live that and make it for real. Not a social injustice is suffered in vain. In surviving and knowing, I lessen the pain Of the stricken by feeling what they often feel. Then I can look forward to a new self begun.
Almost all of my life I’ve been mentally ill. This profound revelation comes at a late stage. I have made poor decisions that caused harm and grief. In a fit of psychosis beyond my belief, I have severed my roots. I am left to engage In extreme self-analysis. It is no thrill.
I’m face down in my own crap, and my, what a mess. It would take me a lifetime to straighten things out. But I’ve already screwed up this life as it be. Can I find a solution somewhere inside me? Quickly I was approaching the terminal doubt… That I should not have been born. I feel less than less.
What I wanted my whole life I already had… Loving parents, a fine home, and family life. I flushed that down the toilet. Now, having done so, I am haunted by thoughts of where my soul might go, But at least I’d not be here to cause people strife. I recall only times when I’ve made people sad.
My big plan is to clean up the big mess I’ve made. With the help of my God I can get this thing done. I shall pay off my huge debts and own property Through the special talents God bestowed upon me. All that I ever wanted was to be someone Who is loving, and I am still on that crusade.
Critical is the nature of all that is real. Life maintained is a symphony of submission To process… it’s profundity, having known hell. Painfully, my own story is pleasant to tell. The revealed Magic Realist and I are one. Intertwined human troubles I rightly must feel.
Easily I am grateful now that the world view I allow to possess me with its circuitry. Already with my deep guilt that I cannot hide, Ignorance of reality, never implied, Yet the interdependence is made part of me. I digest the late wake up call. Can it get through?
Never mind a life crisis to forecast the end Of a thing become tangled in self-awareness. Knowing now its fragility, I taste respect. The finite probability has the effect Of defining the issues I need to address. This complex human puzzle I must comprehend.
Surrender this old body to forces divine. The coming machine cycle is due to occur. The grand clock of existence is mine to express Through the real me evolving. I can’t go for less Than the grace necessary to be as it were In eternal alignment with all that is mine.