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THREE:
Kitty had anchored Adam, her prey,
Into her suburbia where she would dismay
His corporeal aspects with fangs gone wild
Into his throbbing neck vein, biting, but not mild,
Stealing his sanguine reality,
Making him her slave to forever be
And please her wicked womb with thrusting heat,
For he was a cutie, and she needed his meat
To drink, to eat, to make her further immortal
As wends the way of the vampire portal;
Nevertheless, Adam didn't surrender to her kisses on his neck,
Morphing monstrously into a werewolf that did wreck
Kitty's carnal cravings and yearning blood lust--
Her thinking: "Oh Shit!" This dude is a human/wolf/hybrid mutt.
Kitty Ink Art:
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TWO:
Kitty wielded the weird of sorcery too,
Morphing her hair longer; still, with the raven hue;
Moreover, she danced naked in her silk-red panties,
Though no reflection in the mirror to make her have vanity-like fantasies;
Nonetheless, she knew she looked cool,
And that her super/vampire/girlness was nobody's fool;
Anyway, she marched into high school that Friday, Autumn morning,
Setting her bull's eye on Adam, the handsome boy all freshmen girls were adoring--
He was the high school punter for the football team;
Plus, easy on the eyes, having a pretty boy mien;
Hence, Kitty strutted up to his frame,
Wrapping her lusts around his throbbing brain,
Unexpectedly kissing him on the cheek,
Not knowing his wolf inside wasn't meek.
Kitty Crayon Art:
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ONE:
Kitty was a teenage dream,
Having luminous blue eyes that drove other girls green;
Plus, her lips were full and moist;
Thus, within their bluejeans did every school boy hoist
His obvious walking cane;
Moreover, there was her raven-black mane,
Which was a demonic nimbus of beauty--
Verily, Miss Kitty was Count Dracula High's finest cutie--
Yeah, that's just what the kids dubbed their high school,
For the real person it was named after (Bill Clinton) was a Duck Dynasty fool;
Still, every soul has the right
To adventure into their own wicked plight;
Hence, Kitty was on the prowl,
Looking to suck blood from a hot boy's jowl;
Nonetheless, she wasn't the only supernatural freak in her high school,
Thinking the football punter was especially cool;
Indeed, he was a werewolf teen,
Though Kitty was unaware of his canine mean;
Therefore, she hoped to lure him to bed,
Where she would drink blood from his pulsating head.
Crayon Art--KITTY:
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* * * * * *
SEVENTEEN:
The Virgin Mary, angelically swift
Turns to Fenrir--and with a blue-laser blast does lift
The monstrous beast off the serpentine floor;
As a result, he slithers with a scalding hole in his furry hide's core;
Next, Francis and Gubbio with mercury leading,
Bolt out of Hel's demonic domain--the goddess still vaginally (more or less) bleeding
From her defeat as Mary spins Her pistols,
Picking off attackers with the light speed missiles;
Moreover, She picks up Skunkfire and They exit the door,
Hoping to never return to Hel's cryptic lair evermore;
As a result of saving Gubbio; plus, besting their iniquitous adversaries,
The 2 Saints, Wolf, and Eunuch are more than merely contemporaries,
Yet friends forever--united in Godly glee,
Though the Eunuch wishes they didn't so quickly flee,
But forever vaporized the insidious synergy of Hel and Fenrir's form,
Wiping them away from perpetuity, making their death an eternal norm,
But constant resurrection is an axiomatic fact
No matter how many times a soul is mortally attacked--
At least humility was sensed today
For 2 adversaries of Christ who wished to sway
Souls from bliss and Yuletide mirth,
Wanting only a torturous re-birth!
And as the Saints mounted their mystic horses,
Skunkfire and Gubbio galloped beneath, their quicksilver ignited by angelic torches,
Blazing with peace and no ill-will or contempt,
Knowing evil resonates on the Mystic Grid--having a forever intent.
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* * * * * *
Frankie Muniz, the young and handsome actor from "Malcolm in the Middle" has reportedly suffered his 2nd Mini Stroke, yet his cerebral capacity seems undiminished; at any rate, he's always so imperatively bold that: He never smoked, used drugs, or had a sip of alcohol! Maybe that's his problem.
The Old Testament clearly displays King David and his wise son Solomon as great importers of alien vegetation and grape into the Holy Land; specifically, King David Psalms: "Wine to make man's heart happy, and herb for the service of man." Furthermore, Solomon used certain substances for mystical incantations, and begged for the downtrodden to drink wine, an alcoholic substance that Christ Himself, (A God of Wine) much like Dionysus, crafted from pure water in His first recorded miracle at the wedding in the Gospel of John; nevertheless, Christian morality has been deceived by the Prince of this World--the Adder himself.
A plant based diet is healthy. Cannabis is an anti-oxidant, anti-inflammatory, and performance enhancer--even Wikipedia wisely trumpets its medical properties for Inflammatory Bowel Disease like Ulcerative Colitis-- something I've anguished over for almost 20 years, suffering from sincere anal and stomach pain, chronic, bloody bowel movements (up to 20 daily), Iron Deficiency Anemia, severe weight loss, and a number of other melancholy effects, having needed blood transfusions, steroids, pain killers, and I.V. Medicine for years--the only cure being removal of my complete, large intestine; still, if I tried to purchase cannabis for its medical properties, the authorities in Tennessee would incarcerate me, and I'd be sodomized, pay probation fees, and give more money over to the government for court costs--yeah, it smells like Freedom and Liberty in America. The politicians don't care that I suffer lack of cannabis.
Benign narcotics are not insidious or malevolent creations. Neither is tobacco, which also puts Inflammatory Bowel Disease into remission; plus, my Grandmother smoked 3 packs for nearly 70 years, living to nearly 88, and never had heart disease or cancer--it's not physiological axiomatic that smoking will kill you; still, best to use in moderation. And that's the problem. If people would be responsible and use in moderation; next, these sublime plants could serve their Earthly purpose and offer true solace to the users. Ingestion of herb does not make one evil. Still, the American Government will lock you up and sodomize you for it because it offers a hint of euphoria and philosophically expands a soul's comprehension of the grand scheme. I'm not saying do drugs. I'm saying: If used in moderation, benign narcotics, tobacco, and alcohol are not a death sentence. If we were taught CONTROL; then, we could profit physiologically from these substances. Life in itself is a Death Sentence. We are born--food for the Earth, until the "convergence" when man gels with machine, the Genetic Revolution, us becoming bio-mechanical immortals. The gods we are that King David spoke of.
Sex is totally more corrupt and deadly than drugs if not used in moderation--if not used simply for PLAY between two people in love with each other; next, sex spawns: War, Orgies, Rape, Murder, Envy, Disease, Divorce, etc., Still, sex is legal, and if used properly--is a beautiful thing. We demonize drugs for a plethora of reasons. And yes, people abuse it, playing video games all day and wasting their lives; nonetheless, people like Carl Sagan forged linguistic art, Kerouac penned epic odes, Poe too, and the need for it medically should never be infringed by the Federal Government--that is a crime itself.
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SIXTEEN:
Virgin Mary--volcanic ensemble of cowgirl fury
Merged with Saint Francis' contempt for an evil wolf furry
Storm Hel's lascivious lair with non-edged weapons and azure-hued lasers--
Mary and Francis stunning demons and reptilians armed with devilish favors;
Next, Francis keenly observes Gubbio bleeding on a wicked altar,
Quicksilvering his Saintliness with dexterity that doesn't his coolness alter,
Healing his pet with a friendly stigmata-like soothe;
Then Fenrir's ferocity leaps at him, changing the Saint's punctured, benevolent attitude
While Hel and Mary square off with fierce intent,
Hel throwing Coburn-esque daggers, yet Mary's blue lasers morph them bent,
And the cruel steel flops to the lair's slithery floor--
There, Hel then pukes like a vagina discharging infected galore;
Meanwhile, Skunkfire falls, lost to crippling visions,
Yet is protected by the Holy Ghost from Hel's oncoming minions,
For the Eunuch sees:
Adam and Eve's
Genetic, anthropological axioms for all of us,
Giving DESTINY, though minor disturbances do profanely cuss
At the Holy Script crafted on God's Good Grid--
Making existentialism impossible to close a soul's personal craving-like lid,
Yet God can be copied or plagiarized by minor gods,
And only Mani's Angelic Twin-ship "knowledge" offers insightful cause
Into the cosmic, and beyond, understanding Earth's yesterday invasion--
They're already here, forcing labor, sex, and weaning out the asymmetrical nation,
Maliciously editing God's Holy Grid and Script,
Not minding that of Terra the Devil is a Prince, and he loves to trick;
Still, the Holy Ghost whispers in Skunkfire's ear
Something about CONTROL, which he fears to hear:
We are all vehicles sculpted by the passengers who wish to manipulate us--this way or thataway do they steer us, all according to their own immortal lusts!
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FIFTEEN:
Hel throned upon salacious squish of dead bones rattling,
Greeted by Fenrir's wicked saunter into her chamber echoing
Of dead and alive--like Zombie Land--
Fenrir's gory mouth full of Gubbio; next, he drops the canine body at Hel's command!
She smirks over the wounded wolf, glimpsing his blood-smeared fur,
Knowing the 2 Saints will be hurt, and the Eunuch pissed at her.
* * * * * *
Francis felt a disturbance in his soul's eye,
For the transfigured, human brain used fully is like a telepathic spy;
Moreover, Mary too knew that it was time for righteous war--
A last resort, yet done for LOVE and its sublime core;
Furthermore, Skunkfire burned the Biblical Herb and exhaled mystic peace,
Knowing via Pope Francis--every soul is within the Good God's Reach,
A super-connection--all of us are--
A pattern of digits and lines sculpted by the Grand Artist--Him, the Ultimate Star,
And upon that pattern--like coils in a super computer,
Life is a pantheistic forge of all animal, Saint, devil, god, or looter--
Whatever--we are all Super-Stringed together,
The Multiverse a pattern on God's screen-saving sweater,
Him knitting it for the Yuletide Season,
Even having gay apparel for no sentient yet still decent reason--
Christ knowing all of this as the Gospels do display,
Him telling the Adder: "Not sex, fame, money, nor bread alone, but every Word My Father does say."
The Messiah wise to our being penned and given perpetual form,
Genetically crafted to execute, whether working in hospice or porn;
Thus, love your neighbor as yourself;
The Living deserve respect, and truth is a book on death's shelf
Might Voltaire in his awesome atheism say,
Him like all of us--spawned by God's life-creating clay,
Formed forever in His eclectic collection,
Laughing, killing, thirsting, satisfying in every created direction--
All the best that souls can hope to do
Is love the luminosity of Liberty, which runs free and true,
For the Author of Life is scripting Our Tales
Beyond the Borders of the Multiverse, where true clarity prevails . . .
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FOURTEEN:
Gubbio loose, sniffing on paw pads to piss,
Knowing his master (Saint Francis) wouldn't miss
A little stray to mark some territory,
Discharging a yellow stream that was from drinking liquid's story;
Alas, he noticed the scent of another canine--
Though not a Christ lover, but an insidious god that wished to malign--
And Gubbio saw Fenrir's approaching hate;
Next, pissed more brilliance--a urinary, phobic mistake,
Thinking: "Oh shit!" Yet he hated the foul in his mouth,
For the Prophets of Old don't cuss like Americans living in the Dirty South.
* * * * * *
Skunkfire outside the warehouse where the Eternal Virgin and Francis did chat--
The Eunuch pondering an axiomatic fact
That is: Suicide is not an unforgivable sin
If the director of your intentions projects unearthly sorrow--the Devil steering your fin,
For there are worse things than a sanguine death,
Like living a lie without having holy breath;
Moreover, the only unforgivable sin is against the Holy Ghost
And not submitting to THAT Aspect of God, which drives souls most
To excellence; indeed, the Holy Ghost's infusion offers the apex of eternity,
Yet mercy and sacrifice are needed for forever liberty;
Specifically, being infused by the Holy Ghost
Means turning your back on the things you crave most
Like beauty, sex, and admiration
From giving copulation or getting physical elation,
For eternal life can be twice as nice
If submission to God is your favorite spice;
Next, wipe clean all desire and passion;
Then, the Holy Ghost enters, morphing a soul into mystic fashion,
Adorning them with a perpetual friend,
Which is the Holy Family, a Godly lend
Of His adoration of your acquiesce;
Thus, be potent enough to submit and confess,
Killing your cravings for sensual glee
Since that thieves away you from being forever free . . .
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* * * * * *
The Nordic Countries have a vibrant, elegant mythology--perhaps axiomatic in many ways. The goddess Hel is portrayed as a villain in my ongoing, theological Blog: GREEN EUNUCH. Here is my 1st Grader-like portrait of something too beautiful to draw save for a REAL artistic (visually/not linguistic) genius--trust me: My words usurp my 1st Grade Crayon Art; nonetheless, I have to try--here's Hel:
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THIRTEEN:
The Nordic goddess Hel and her wolf-like brother (Fenrir) were a bit perplexed,
Not knowing why the 2 Saints and Eunuch weren't demonically hexed;
Specifically, they had not shown up for battle,
Camouflaging themselves like on a galloping horse a saddle,
Gelling with the beasts of Ooba
Though obviously alive, well, and as dangerous as a sea-dwelling barracuda;
As a result, Hel commanded Fenrir to sniff them out--
To bring at least one back, dead or alive, in his canine snout,
Yet Hel made a common mystical mistake,
Thinking "prayers" to God, the gods, or the fallen gods might wake
A birth of their dreamed intent and desire,
But to pray for a soul who wants to be higher
While indeed they may want to fly low
Causes strife and confusion--like the Adder does know;
Alas, even a prayer with sublime intention
Can confuse or lobotomize a man who desires another direction--
So to pray for your son not to be gay,
May drive him to suicide in order to chase the spiritual confusion away;
Regardless, Hel was not wise enough to grasp the error of prayer,
Believing Fenrir's "prayed-for" adventure would bring her opponents into a wicked snare . . .
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* * * * * *
A Crayon Pic of the Queen of Angels (Virgin Mary) based on a Jill Hennessy photo--the actress/singer could play the inviolate Mother of God in a movie, totally. Of course, this pic is associated with my ongoing, theological Blog: GREEN EUNUCH--the tale of the Virgin Mary, Saint Francis and his pet wolf Gubbio; plus, Skunkfire, the Green Eunuch himself, a bio-mechanical, transfigured soul. So, here's the pic:
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TWELVE:
Virgin Mary's heel on serpentine;
Indeed, as mentioned in the Pentateuch--She is a demon-crushing, transfigured machine.
Too, morphed Her speech from Aramaic,
For to Her--Hebrew is the way to say it;
Moreover, God cloned Her to craft the Christ,
Merging Himself into the equation--a triumphant mystical heist
Of cosmological power
To make the adversaries flee and cower;
Alas, She can Super-Position Herself as well,
Transmitting Her Son's message to the underground in hell;
Still, here on the Moon of Ooba She resides with the Wolf, Eunuch, and Saint,
Attempting to eclipse the hellish taint
Of a geography besmirched by lack of liberty,
Where most souls are locked into adulterous misery,
Not knowing sex is more criminal than nature's drugs and ale,
Those things inspiring art and science instead of only interested in chasing tail;
Next, jealousy, murder, rape--all for the loins to stupidly climax--
A second of glee; then, biological ecstasy does lapse;
Regardless, the Virgin Mary ornamented Herself in a nimbus-blue cowboy hat,
Forging blue laser six-guns that could blast away the fat
From any demon's gluttonous belly--
Again, unhealthy food and mischievous sex are more nasty and smelly
Than freedom to imbibe a psychological cure
If the cerebral capacity doesn't pursue what's pure;
Anyway, Skunkfire and Saint Francis, along with Gubbio the wolf/canine
Smiled innocently at Mary's wardrobe--it being a back-step in time.
Francis expounding:
"Lady Queen--You appear to be the Lone Ranger." Him just hounding
Her with hilarity
Since She had the apex of humility;
Thus, She punched him in the arm and twirled Her laser guns,
Knowing the world would be safer if there were "packing" Nuns--
And Skunkfire bowed so loyal and green,
His bio-mechanical countenance oozing out benign, narcotic steam,
For this Woman was more than just Jesus' Mother,
Yet the purest intentions of being God's singular Lover.
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ELEVEN:
The Virgin Mary wise in knowing
The Abrahamic God's intentions on afterlife cloning;
Specifically, She knew: Demons fall in love with people,
French-Kissing seduction under a Protestant steeple;
Alas, don't sell your soul to the Devil,
Yet sell it to God, for in Love and Honor does He revel;
Thus, Mary awoke Saint Francis from his slumber,
Saying that he was Her favorite number
Of fools gone mystic, and enchanted too,
But we as humans are more than pets in God's zoo;
As a result, Francis went to go fishing,
Knowing he was on a holy mission
To thwart the Nordic goddess Hel, smiting her with fervent adoration
Of a blessed and unified Abrahamic Nation;
Hence, Skunkfire turned from dreaming as well,
Waking to Mary's inviolate perfume smell,
And Gubbio, the sublime wolf, licked his face,
Not short-circuiting the gadgets that were in place
Of his neon-shimmering mien so aglow,
Gleaming with bio-mechanical aspects that God did know;
Moreover, Mary, Skunkfire, and Gubbio waited
For Francis to return with fish; next, them elated
To have Omega-3's in their Transfigured bodies not hated
Though temples of the divine, only Skunkfire castrated;
Still, he adored his fortune in this heavenly region,
Walking upon this galactic moon of Ooba, and no women ever pleas'n,
For he was beyond sex, transcending carnal lust,
Trusting in asceticism that is a must
If a Saint he is to one day be;
Then, Francis returned with a fisherman's glee.
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TEN:
Ooba is accepting the celestial kiss of the encompassing stars; moreover, the small moon glows, enlightened and made aware by its sublime and salacious inhabitants. Francis and his pet wolf sleep; meanwhile, the Virgin Mary practices dueling the encroaching shadows with her icy-blue blade, smirking as Skunkfire (the Green Eunuch) observes coolly. Adoring Her. Knowing Her. Wishing he hadn't let down Her Messianic Son in life. Thus wends the way of mystic chatter. The two face. She smiles lovingly. He blushes.
MARY
You know I know you're sad, right?
SKUNKFIRE
Sure.
MARY
It wasn't your complete fault--your suicide. Adversarial entities were drowning you with guilt, fear, and shame--yes, you should have been stronger; still, you were holy in life. A holy freak; nonetheless, holy--kinda.
SKUNKFIRE
I loved women too much.
MARY
You refrained. Got gay. Got straight. Refrained. Mortified your senses. Totally Skunkfire--you're not straight, you're not gay--you're asexual. All you cared about was saving the world--not your own lusting loins. It got in the way. Look, to a point, even Me at times--we're all biologically controlled by our programmed cerebral network--it's genetic code that manipulates us. Free Will, to a point, yes it's true; otherwise, it is not. At least you searched. You craved God and His Angels and Saints.
SKUNKFIRE
Why is the Devil so strong?
MARY
Counterpoise. It's an axiom in the Multiverse. The 3 TRUTHS: Good, Neutrality, and Evil. Choose your adventure, as much as you can anyway. Demons fall in love with people just like angels do; thus, they romance them in their selfish direction. The Greek gods weren't the only supernatural entities like people--haven't you heard: God created man in His Image. Demons and Angels are similar as well. All the gods are.
SKUNKFIRE
Will it ever end--peace . . .
MARY
Maybe not, a perpetual flux of existence. Still, Goodness thrives, on and on and on . . .
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* * * * * *
Just Google or Bing President John F. Kennedy's medical records--and you'll get it; specifically, he used narcotics while serving as Commander In Chief; moreover, he usurped the political sobriety of Clinton, Bush, and Obama. Kennedy was a War Hero, never dodging like Clinton or Bush or even Odysseus (he was cool though); at the same time, Kennedy endured more War Damage than John Kerry getting a splinter in one of his fingers; subsequently, the freakishly tall android was awarded the Purple Heart. But Kennedy suffered sincere anguish and pain, needing opiates and anti-anxiety medication; plus, most likely a gulp of Scotch every once in a while. Too, the Urban Legend wends the way that he used cannabis for further solace. Regardless, Kennedy kicked ass. Yes, he did have the Achilles' Heel of a raging libido, bedding babes with wanderlust; nevertheless, he cosmically trumped the Russians and their intrepid Space Program, forging our greatest American Adventure in Outer Space, faced down Cuba, offered a more high-caliber vernacular and empathetic speeches than did Clinton or Obama--those two pretenders, wishing they were him.
Still, benign narcotics are illegal. Ingestion of them will get you sodomized in the American Prison System, where a once healthy gastrointestinal tract will be split into sanguine pieces, possibly anchoring a diseased discharge from a murderer, rapist, or other thug who actually belongs behind bars. And now: Modern war heroes return from battling Arabs, mostly armed with sling shots, get addicted to opiates and anti-anxiety medication; next, overdose, and now: Uncle Sam is in your medicine cabinet. Thanks for your service to our country, further enabling the government to cripple our freedom and liberty.
Kennedy was not a pussy. I am. But isn't he the standard for a warrior? Wouldn't it be wise to clone him like Lucas did with Jango Fett; then, nobody would overdose, but use properly and in moderation; as a result, the government might allow us physiological solace instead of the "CRUEL AND UNUSUAL" torture of getting sodomized in prison--who wouldn't come out of a place like that and not want to Chase the Dragon?
And if benign narcotics were legal and taxed; next, we could offer true education concerning moderation, pay off the Chinese Debt, and spawn an American Health Care System By the People and For the People, instead of having Lord Obama force us and penalize us into his medical, pseudo-FDR legacy; next, once we sign up on our computers, thugs like the NSA and FBI possibly have access to our webcams and all the rest. Yup, the American Government can spy on you, but if you get caught watching your neighbor change her panties; then, your ass is sodomized in the American Prison System--the best and most merciful in the world, right?
Look, some people will always abuse regardless of instruction and education. Liberty in America will cause plenty of bloody noses, but that's already happening. And there is no truth in education anymore--it's all agenda placed. Oh well, I guess if General George Washington were to plant a cannabis seed the DEA would break into his house wearing thug-like masks, shoot his dog, and give him over to "cruel and unusual" punishment. Verily, I'd rather be water-boarded than sodomized--who the hell wouldn't?
Sincerely, Mark David King
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* * * * * *
LIBERTY, in America--no longer! Conservative is a word that is an antonym concerning Freedom, meaning to restrict. Liberal/Progressive spawns Socialistic idealism; regardless, here goes:
Conservative = Theocracy: Morals of elected politicians forced upon the people; as a result, Uncle Sam is in your medicine cabinet, FBI and NSA and DEA monitor your suspicious behavior via Internet, cell phone, and electronic devices. However, a bit of religion is good. Too, security is good, a bit, but not at the price of thieving away personal autonomy, morphing a singular soul into a complete psychological gel with a Collective Hive; alas, we still need individuality to prosper and thrive.
Liberal/Progressive: A desire to starburst and resurrect the rants of Marx; still, a little bit of Socialism is a benevolent thing, a little bit. Nevertheless, the 2nd Amendment protects the 1st, for no alien country could ever invade our shores due to the American Axiom that Brothers in the Urban Areas and Duck Dynasty Dudes in the Rural Areas have firearms; hence, not only would barbarism (which conquered Rome) have to deal with our military and national guard, yet our well-regulated militia of once, free men.
LIBERTARIAN is a sublime and altruistic word. Remembering the Holy Spirit of 1776 that had its magnanimous apex with the Lincoln Presidency, which unbound the beloved African-Americans in the Southern Regions. Still, there are a few problems.
Benign Narcotics, Cannabis, Shrooms, low-level opiates should be legal, and yes--TAXED; next, a wise, economically-crafted Health Care System provided by the consuming people. Moderation of ingestion, if taught by a new kind of Drug Czar, would offer the capital to provide for our mentally and physically ill, usurping even the sublimity of FDR's genius program known as Social Security. ObamaCare shares not true genius with FDR, but a manipulation of ATTEMPT--dude, you already ended the unjust War in Iraq, calm down--you have your legacy.
Self-Defense--if I had a daughter, a butterfly knife (illegal in a modern, non-free America) would be in her purse in case a frat boy attempted rape or sodomy, and if he was successful; next, she would want an abortion due to the demon of the monster's seed growing in her inviolate belly, but we frown on that too. Yes, I know the Wise Merlin's matriarch was seduced by a demon; thus, spawned a grand wizard resisting his patriarchal heritage; still, we should have a choice if unjustly invaded (vaginally) by an intruding grunt.
All in all--LIBERTY serves us best. Verily: THE ONLY PERSON YOU CAN CONTROL IN LIFE IS YOURSELF! The American Government cannot besmirch the biology of evolution. If wise, it can direct and offer it solace. Prostitution taxed and legal, further promoting a Defense Program, rescuing neurotic men from desiring strange women on slutty Internet Sites. Truly, building another Tower of Babel is not the Libertarian Way--that is Obama's Modernism. Constructing a Nerf World. People will get bloody noses. People will abuse narcotics. People will use weapons violently. Regardless, even with laws they will do so more often. Let us be. Let us live. Let us not fear death, trusting in an utopia-like God, granting a decent afterlife; otherwise, we are robots, attempting to siege and control the masses, but as I just said: THE ONLY PERSON YOU CAN CONTROL IN LIFE IS YOURSELF.
Sincerely, Mark David King
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* * * * * *
After Saint Peter violently sliced off a body part, the Living Christ explained, more or less: "I could have an Army of Angels at my side." As a result, why not mimic Christ? I hate to dub Martin Luther "Lucifer", but even Nietzsche, in his wise and uncanny confusion, spoke sternly against the man who thieved away the Virgin Mary (Jesus' Beloved Mom), Saint Michael (God's Enforcer, the most powerful Arch-Angel), and all other Angels, Saints, and Confessors from invocation. Yet, are we not instructed to mimic Christ? And Christ clearly claimed to Saint Peter that He could call upon the Celestial Hierarchy (Angelity). And Saints and Confessors are not dead, yet ALIVE in Christ; thus, they can observe our stranded humanity.
However you decide to follow Christ--it is wise; nonetheless, don't execute the benevolence of His Mother or His Father's Angels, Saints, and Confessors. Verily, SUPER-POSITIONING is a term used in the science of physics to explain being in multiple places at once; moreover, even in His nearly omniscient awesomeness, Christ, as would Occam's Razor possibly hint--can't be everywhere, throughout the flux of time and space without a bit of Transfigured Hesitation; therefore, we should invoke His Mom, Saint Michael, and others residing beyond the Sublime Perimeter to assist us--this is not a sin, and this is my gripe against Protestantism--though may they be blessed and wise.
Loving Christ's Mom is not a sin! She gave His Father a sense that humanity might be saved--was hope for the human race, and genetically-cloned (more or less) for the altruistic purpose of Salvation. It was Her foot upon the Adder's Head as mentioned in the Old Testament. Hence, do not denounce Her; it would be "not polite" to Her Son, your Lord. Regardless, we must all love one another, study our adversaries, pray for them, savor every singular soul's right to autonomy, and hope the experience of death is more than a Pantheistic Light Show in the Cosmos. God Bless.
Sincerely, Mark David King
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* * * * * *
"People are born ignorant; it is education that makes them stupid." . . . Lord Bertrand Russell . . .
I never climbed the scholastic ladder of academia; nevertheless, I am no incontinent, intellectual douche, determined to fume my own toxicity with fresh, strawberry or watermelon scents; alas, I am here: BLOGGING!
America wasted its supposed adversary with W. Bush's ignorance; specifically, does the former President of the U.S., only having wanted to be MLB President know of the Koran--of the Arch-Angel Gabriel swimming down forth from the celestial ocean of the Big Neon Glitter to read Muhammad literate? An uneducated, loafer of the sand-blasted geography, residing in a metaphorical chaise lounge, listening to the silence of the Four Winds under the illumination of the Big Neon Cheese, Lime-Green Moon, bragging the best bold among the effulgent stars skyways? Freaking: Know your enemy. Do Navy Seals know of Christ not perishing on the Cross, yet starbursting into eternity from the sanguine circumstance of Calvary? Bullshit. They kill without education, though educated, in the incorrect manner.
I can take apart my rifle, and a man's skull, in 4.2 seconds; still, I am lost to the theology of it all. Why is this happening? Why has an old man sent me to ethnically cleanse a people? I am an infant concerning their religious culture, that seed which drives them to determination. I aborted those people because of ignorance.
Why do not the Abrahamic religions fuse into SuperSymmetry? Hindu people, Buddha too--beloved and neutral or theologically romantic with Krishna's suave azure-hued love of it all, offering a straight spine and retaliation against rapist giants or somekindofmonsters; regardless, the THREE HOLY, ABRAHAMIC THEOLOGIES should UNITE. JEW, CHRISTIAN, MUSLIM--side by side, thwarting the Multiversal Cosmos with theological couth concerning the most potent God in the Megaverse. It doesn't happen. We are slaying our own brothers. Tell me: How many Israeli souls and Palestinians have spawned genetic flesh? Myriads I say, yet no one speaks of their hybrid nature. Tells their biological tale. They are Star-Children. Understand the Creation of Humanity, and the return of Divinity or Salacious Iniquity to reclaim Terra's Surface. Thus, Unite brothers. The Torah, New Testament, Koran--all from the same Godly seed, yet jealous brothers without the reformation of genius. Not Martin Lucifer I'm talk'n. Us all. Bleeding Red. Genetically similar, united like the pride of African-Americans we must be, loving ourselves; indeed, before the cardiac muscle (the heart) gives blood to the other physiological organs, it takes some blood for itself. We are brothers, us Abrahamic Religions; still, we envy with Nazi Uncouth and all the rat-ass rest. Time to evolve. Time to gel and mesh unearthly. For the fallen are coming. They are fucking coming. And if they arrive in our skies and we hate each other; next, we are doomed to slavery. Verily, our SAVIOR is our united determination to damn the devil. Verily, get in line with your enemy to conquer the incoming heretics, skyborn from the cosmic confusion.
Sincerely, Mark David king
Plotinus may pantheistic-like ponder: "The Simpler something is; next, the closer it is to God."
WEREWOLF SLUT, my original TITLE and poem, hijacked by many creatively, though I offer them adoration and love--is a teenage tale concerning Winter Beachgrove, a smok'n hot, adolescent babe blessed with buxom divine, morphing wolf-ways. Only a pre-pubescent poet dubbed Jelly Roll (he appears in most of my poetic novellas) can save her by way of invoking the trans-corporeal presence of God's Enforcer, the Arch-Angel, Saint Michael. A simple, simple, holy poem. Available on Apple iTunes, the Nook, or Amazon.com--here's a link to my Amazon page: WEREWOLF SLUT and King's Books!
I gotta few pics of my stylish countenance back in the Reagan years, sporting a Blue-Black Mane of hair, much to my mother's disapproval; plus, some more modern shots of me, now 41 years of age. So, totally, check out WEREWOLF SLUT. Before they were selling t-shirts or doing romance literature or Blogging themselves this title, I was mystically penning this prose-laced piece, my cerebral capacity diminished, though made elegantly effulgent, by way of King David's Psalm concerning herb in the KJV. Check it out:
. . .
I am no Saint. As said before: "We are all a bunch of sons of bitches."
Myriads of men are better than me; still, God I hope I'm trying. The examples of Christ and His Immaculate Mother drive us to better ourselves--to become infinitely decent. But I fall short. I've even slacked off on my own, personal asceticism. Hate being a fluid-like organism. Want more. Bio-mechanical possibilities. Able to program my cerebral capacity to delete thoughts that culminate in the act of sin.
May God Bless us all. May we forget revenge, lust, and loathing. This life we are just sizing each other up, sowing ourselves into immortal images; thus, become one with humility and detachment, consuming only the Body of Christ, and crafting your physiology to moral behavior as is the way of the benevolent Angels and Saints. May God be with us. And may I stop being such a jerk. Bless you all.
Sincerely, Mark David King
"The only person you can control in life is yourself; nevertheless, the modern, American government is attempting to control its own people." - Holy Spirit of 1776 -
From the DEA's diabolical duties to our corrupt police state,
The friendly folk of America are getting raped;
Alas, Our Freedom is in perilous jeopardy,
For the fat cats in Washington are the only ones knowing FREE--
The 1st Amendment is being violently viewed with scorn,
For to hurt someone's feelings usurps Liberty's norm
Since "sticks and stones" are now weaker than words
In an American Culture where Freedom disturbs;
Plus, the 2nd Amendment, which protects the 1st
Is allowed by corrupt cops, them hurting the worst--
Uncle Sam forgetting that no alien country could overrun
Our elegant countryside since the citizen is allowed a gun,
Yet Piers Morgan hates the Wild West,
Which was our most intrepid time; indeed, a cowboy is the best,
Able to stand up "equally" to a corrupt sheriff,
Him believing his badge grants him the nobility of a Holy Seraph;
Moreover, "cruel and unusual" is our civilized punishment for men,
The government giving repetitive sodomy to innocent males inhaling their own health plan,
For Obama doesn't realize that Honest Abe loathed prohibition,
Claiming it Anti-American, and the privilege of use being an individual decision--
So instead of genuine, historical education and toleration for your neighbor,
Our government is doing the devil a torturous favor,
Shackling the souls with illegal searches and many an unjust seizure,
Eclipsing "Our Rights" with Totalitarianism-like, fork-tongued leisure;
Furthermore, the government tries to control our bodies, minds, and spirits too,
Making it illegal to be unique and true,
Melting in color or sexual identity,
Morphing ourselves into a magnanimous futurity--
But what is allowed is slave labor and many a health care fee,
Modern politicians thinking themselves great like FDR's brilliant Social Security;
In addition, the Eagle has crashed and space goes unexplored--
Our pioneering spirit neutered by the compulsion to control with primitive sword . . .
Sincerely, Mark David King
Mark David King's Books @ Apple iTunes, the Nook, and Amazon.com!!!
Inflammatory Bowel Disease (Ulcerative Colitis) with Iron-Deficiency Anemia can kill? Possibly. If it wasn't for a blood transfusion years ago--I would not be here; alas, maybe not a bad thing, considering the agony of the whole spicy enchilada.
Good thing about Blood Transfusions, unless of course you're a Jehovah's Witness and keen upon the Book of Exodus--you get plenty of IRON and are not damned to hell. Monstrous amounts of IRON I'm talk'n. And the sanguine fluid has been screened a myriad of times, protecting you from the possibility of any futuristic infection associated with the ichor-like infusion.
Liver is a fundamental necessity for Iron-Deficiency Anemia; nevertheless, if associated with Ulcerative Colitis, it can mentally FREAK YOU CRAZY to imbibe the bloody organ that processes all the toxins in a mammal's physiological system; still, CALF LIVER seems the most benign, though morally perplexing--poor babies. But if you're fading into entropy; next, invoke Saint Francis to pray for the beast, and fry yourself up some IRON-INFUSED CALF LIVER with regular butter.
Iron Pills may constipate, which is pure Pandemonium for a sorry soul afflicted with Ulcerative Colitis, for besides numerous, bloody, mucous-like explosions of fecal matter that won't stop, there is also the flip side of the coin: Painful constipation, your bowels in LOCK-UP, fumbling no feces save squirts of crimson blood. Yeah, being fun is sick. If my Doc would only infuse me with REMICADE IV; next, I would enter a perpetual state of remission, but due to the Iron-Deficiency Anemia and quasi-malnutrition, I suffer and swallow steroids or insert Nuclear-Powered Suppositories into my anal cavity. This is life. Don't cry about it. Just cope, invoke the Angels and Saints, and hope your State offers the soothing solace of natural medicine. Best of fortune to all those suffering from Inflammatory Bowel Disease and Iron-Deficiency Anemia.
Too, my books @ Apple iTunes, the Nook, and Amazon.com.
Sincerely, Mark David King
Mark David King's Books @ Apple iTunes, the Nook, Amazon.com; moreover--all Internet Bookstores. Perhaps a bit of lewd and lascivious material; nonetheless, altruistic messages, fueled by a sincere spirit of sublimity. Too, HERE: MARK DAVID KING BLOGSPOT!
Does Lt. Governor Ron Ramsey Hate Sick People???
In a quixotic nutshell--LIBERTY: Freedom from emasculating or despotic government. And the word "Conservative" is a genuine antonym of Liberty, meaning to limit; however, the "Liberals" are no better, politically promising change, yet never re-forging the ghostly resonation of 1776.
More often than wise--Lt. Governor Ron Ramsey has boasted of his oppressive politics to the press; specifically, he has denounced Medical Cannabis in the State of Tennessee, offering up the excuse of ABUSE. Yet he has not even a fundamental understanding of Cannabis and its medical benefits, nor that receptors for this magnanimous plant reside within human physiology. King David and his wise son Solomon imported much from non-Hebrew nations in noble attempt to thwart depression and suffering; plus, to promote religious mysticism--David Psalming: "Wine to make man's heart happy, and herb for the service of man." Yet no wine in grocery stores in Tennessee; furthermore, no Medical Cannabis for the wilted and weary as mentioned in the Holy Scriptures.
But if Ron Ramsey was wickedly ill, with a bestial disease; next, his tune might change, unless of course he has the constitutional strength of a Buddhist Monk, embracing agony for holy purpose--but I doubt it. Regardless, let me examine partial aspects of my suffering: Inflammatory Bowel Disease (Ulcerative Colitis), producing Iron-deficiency anemia and internal and external hemorrhoids; plus, a pulsating Psoriasis in the anal sphincter; moreover, when out of remission--10 to 20 explosive, bloody bowel movements daily, in incontinent fashion, diapers are back in style for me. Too, feels like my anus has been hellishly scorched by the Magical Trident of Satan Himself; then, when in remission, a modest 5 to 10 torturous bowel movements daily, or maybe a month of sincere, agonizing constipation, shrinking my once 175 pound frame to that of 136 pounds in a mercurial amount of time. Yup--afraid to eat; afraid to poop, nothing squirting out but a mixture of blood and fecal ruination, further bleeding me anemic and morphing me into a mutated skeleton. At my worst: 117 pounds, in need of a major blood transfusion, high doses of IV steroids, REMICADE IV (infliximab), ASACOL HD 800 MG 3 times daily, KETOCONAZOLE Cream or APEXICON Cream for a salacious synergy of Fluxing Fungus and Persistent Psoriasis in anal cavity, ANUCORT-HD 25 MG Rectal Suppositories, and more PREDNISONE, which at one point maligned my face into an asymmetrical portrait of vivid acne and blistering boils for nearly a year. Oh yeah, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with Tics, further prohibiting me from having any real zest for hunger; specifically, fear of appetite.
So, I take my LEGAL medicine, suffer, suffer some more, and watch Ron Ramsey continue to fight for Medical Cannabis to never be offered in the Great State of Tennessee, and if he does ever acquiesce--he would only allow if for HIV/AIDS patients, not the majority of sufferers cranked up on Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors, Anti-Anxiety Users, and Pain Killing patients. And even with those drugs, Ron Ramsey wants to monitor you, placing a robotic replica of a spying Uncle Sam in your medicine cabinet. So, does this guy hate sick people? Should I go to the street and attempt to purchase cannabis there? Next, get arrested, sodomized, put on probation, pay court fees, have random drug tests, making the local government's wallet fatter. So, I don't! I stay away from the streets in sublime and cautiously keen fashion, praying to Christ that Medical Cannabis might one day soothe anybody, with any condition, in the Great State of Tennessee. But as long as Ron Ramsey runs the roost--nope!
And yes, there will always be people who abuse their medication--always. But that should not be my problem. Do what your physician says, but give him the privilege of offering true solace; otherwise, you are an agent of evil, hating America and the concept of Liberty. Remember Christ's Words in Red (KJV) Matthew 5:7--it wending: "Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy."
Too, I heard Ron Ramsey wants to make all females wait 48 hours before able to have an abortion. What happens when the first girl disfigured by Obsessive Compulsive Disorder freaks out because some disgusting frat boy gets her drunk and takes advantage of her--you think she'll wait 48 hours? Won't even have to worry about a crazy Doc with a coat hanger at that point--she'll cut the unwanted spawn out of her flesh with Japanese Cutlery; then, of course, the benevolent Nashville Police will incarcerate her for what wasn't her fault. Yeah, I love Ron Ramsey, and I love living in a Free America. These modern politicians are attempting to craft a NERF WORLD, or better--Build another Tower of Babel. All to God's despise . . .
Sincerely, Mark David King
Mark David King's Books @ Apple iTunes, the Nook, and Amazon.com; plus, HERE on Mark David King BlogSpot--the theological fiction of GREEN EUNUCH.
EIGHT:
Within the charitable safety of Francis' star-kissed warehouse sleeps the Patron Saint of All things Ecological along with the K-9 Gubbio; also, Skunkfire, him dreaming brilliantly by way of the soothing, cosmic herb; moreover, Mary is on Her immaculate knees, underneath the shimmering-blue of David's Star, a symmetrical tapestry, it woven by Hebrew ascetics and gifted to Francis. Therefore, Mary invokes the genetic match that is Her Divine Son, praying:
"Most sublime Son--
The most potent demi-god, brighter than Terra's yellow Sun,
I feel so ashamed and wickedly unclean
Since the blinded Protestants demonize My God-Copulated gleam
That resulted in 50% of Your genetic physiology;
Indeed, Your heavenly flesh is My virginal psychology;
Thus, You refrained from the selfishness of coitus too,
Mimicking an inviolate Mother, Her being the Salvation of every Jew.
Verily, You are Messiah--Hebrew spawned,
Like some mystical poetry that King David lovingly Psalmed;
Alas, I suffered sanguine tears at Calvary,
Watching My genes be destroyed by My humanity--
What is worse, to die, or watch Your only Son perish?
Don't the confused Protestants know that a Mother's intention is to nourish?
And You even mystically hint to Me
That blasphemy against Your face is forgiven, but not against Your matriarchal genealogy.
Truly, You love this woman, Your adoring Mother,
And I bathed You in liquid weeping before the holy shroud did cover
Your Transfiguration into God's Prime Salvation
That can soothe and mend every Nation
If they drink Your Blood and digest Your Body,
Giving Adamkind a sense of decency--never naughty.
Oh My most magnanimous and only child,
Assist, Francis, Gubbio, and the Eunuch in freeing Ooba from Hel's wicked/wild,
Which transcends apostasy,
For this adventure I do belong
Alongside humble souls eclipsing a terrible wrong
That is the hellish pride of people believing themselves sincerely RIGHT
Though unaware of their brothers' plight,
For even the Greeks are godly and real,
Having great mystical appeal,
Though My favor is upon the Christian,
Them seeing the best intentions of the Father's benevolent mission;
Hence, Bless Me, My Son, and make Me worthy
Of Our Father's Love, like symmetry curvy,
Encompassing all of every god's creation,
Sweet on Israel, though beyond that Holy Nation,
For God reigns supreme in charity,
Offering the best of blood with Your transubstantiation clarity."
Next, the Holy Mother blessed Herself--in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost!!!
