The King is in the Field

  
   "The King is in the Field"
   
   The Virgin hides, have you not read Scripture?  And they say nothing happened.  But we will see the Son of Man coming down from the Clouds of Heaven, to separate the wheat from the chaff with the winnowing fork, throwing the chaff into the eternal fire, more or less.  We have had every chance to repent.
   If they were His people, why would they hand Him up?  His family are those that do the Will of God.  If you are handed up by family; next, they are not your true family.
   They say it takes two.  They're right.  But it doesn't take three.  I learned.  Paid in Spades.  But I did my job, and knew my portion was slavery.  
   But even a decent dog deserves an exodus.  No longer will there be a silent voice screaming in the wilderness.  One way or they other--we will all get our proper portion.  A skeptic has to be right everyday, but a man of faith only once.  So enjoy the golden calf, while you can.  

Astronomical Passion

   
   "Astronomical Passion"
  
   Let's not go religious today; specifically, let's do, and yet imagine the psychology of it all.  The Cross forgives sins--you believe Christ died and was resurrected; next, you are forgiven.  Easy.  A little modesty, brainwashing yourself to be a regular, adapting to your environment with social camouflage as does the red fox, and buying into the system--you have to, at least in minimum fashion.  Hell, even a janitor can get a double-wide, fly the American Flag, have a fence and a dog; plus, vote, and get laid here and there--if he chooses.  Don't be Emily Dickinson, wearing ivory-white perpetually, writing bodacious poetry, giving children candy, and being somewhat flaky, which is synonymous with eccentric.  Yes, I've read an entire thesaurus while drinking a six-pack of the King of Beers, Bud Heavy; moreover, babysat a Britney Spaniel, that I later bathed with Head and Shoulders dandruff-controlling shampoo.
   On the flip side, what if there is no control for passion?  And I'm not going all Pantheistic or astrological, yet admitting that when it rains it floods, the Moon affects Terra, and maybe the alignment of the Cosmos constructs reflexes in Adamkind.  
   And even the Signs of the Zodiac are offering astronomical truths, in a sense, if you dive into it all; therefore, know that numerous theories exist, and that there is no scientific dogma, nor any dogma that can be completely axiomatic, as far as we know, for all the possibilities are there, so you have to be on guard, for most people are up to something, and as it is in Heaven, so shall it be on Earth, and I'm talk'n the Cosmos, and the pull of a Moon, and the noise of a dump truck making you nearly ditch your car, and a girl with a good ass, and a song that fuels you, or the green tea you drink--it all has effect, and can be used for whatever purpose, whether to heal or kill.  So passion is good--if you send out the vibes of survival, but even Saint Francis bitched; next, stripped himself naked and preached to the people, a true fool for Christ, and it had effect.  However, all people form into tribes, and there is not the same truth for every man, till we have to own ourselves, and our sub-conscious, possibly, in another realm of existence.  

Wolf of Gubbio

   
   "Wolf of Gubbio"
  
   Forsake your belief that myth is myth, for the Kingdom of Heaven is within you.  Saint Pope John Paul the 2nd, a white virgin dancing in front of a gunman's bullets.  Saint Joan of Arc, made a Phoenix by Twain, and even before, as her candle was lit prior to the flux of time; moreover, Saint Francis taming the wolf of Gubbio--not too long ago did all these things manifest God's Truth.
   The wolf terrorized Gubbio.  Out of fear.  But Saint Francis instructed the wolf that if it ceased killing and murdering; next, no dogs would chase it, nor would it ever go hungry again, and charmed by the Sign of the Cross, the Trinity Itself, the wolf was tamed and followed Saint Francis; plus, became meek and tranquil, even receiving a burial.
   The world is bigger than we know . . .

Indigo Samson (26)

  
   "Indigo Samson (26)"
  
   Not totally being a snooty snob, or considering his/her androgynous essence as sacrosanct; specifically, loving a healing laugh and white-hued angel dogs, Saint Raphael departed the HOUND with Liberty and Bobby Rook.
   The flaxen-haired Archangel stood next to the two friends as the bus departed out into the barren geography of Wyoming, the diesel-smell-sound on route to wherever, and a little dog with green eyes came out of an aqua-blue portal, not enchanting, but showing that super-mundane states of reality can accompany mankind; moreover, be true aspects of sweet sublimity, if nobility is focused upon by a prayer-maker--the wise man knowing that he is nothing without God and that Holy Family, which are those passionately prone to do the Creator's benevolent Will.  
   Saint Raphael ran a loving and caressing hand over the buzz cut of Bobby Rook, mentioned the words:  "Feather cut."  Next, the twosome understood, as if by pineal communication, that the Archangel would depart, for now, bu the emerald-eyed canine, tiny and frisky, covered in a white coat, would be their puppy protector, easily able to snatch a scrotum with fanged frenzy, if an adversarial force approached--God has a sense of humor, for 70% of life on Earth seems to be a form of the beetle.  

Starsky

Indigo Samson (25)

   
   "Indigo Samson (25)"
   
   Samson Landon got Maxie to purchase him a baseball type of hat with the word KAWASAKI tattooed boldly and beyond the bill, not that he didn't prefer the HARLEY DAVIDSON logo, yet the income of it all; however, never complaining about his woeful wages, but knowing he deserved a fair portion, for it is ever right that the poor man only armed with a fishing rod, a half tooth grin, and a case of crabs made absent by dandruff-controlling shampoo, of any type, gets a sort of decent dowry. 
   He bit into Maxie's mind with the softest of close and contained comfort, tuning into her everyday yet electric brain that housed a frontal lobe kinda crystal, going all Fourth Dimensional, but not resisting the super-mundane aspects of his long-haired weirdness, knowing that a rock does truly give water, and a sorrowful wanker's weapons are forged by an acknowledgment of angels and saints, bragging the axiom that there is more than blue-jean Jesus, but a Christ as architect of the magnificent Multiverse, writing our book, combining our self-forgotten souls with the temptation of atomic consciousness, yet diligently digesting our feeble free will, if gone non-molested by the illusion of critical circumstance.
   Next, he pulled Maxie and himself into a SONIC eatery, ordering onion rings, and tipping the car-hop by way of a clean George Washington.  

Indigo Samson (24)

   
   "Indigo Samson (24)"
   
   Samson rebuked his fears.  Looked at Maxie through Christ's Eyes.  A sister.  Sisters don't get factory love-make; regardless, they receive a plethora of their non-pernicious portion, if they see their brothers as a chestnut-haired Christ.
   Call him crazy.  He's had too much brew.  Have you not read the Scriptures?  Wine to make man's heart happy, and herb for the service of man.  You're uptight, and drink the sober poison, but if you walk in the Spirit of Christ; next, He walks in you.  Despise not your beauty, but shine it out.  They'll hate me with envy.  Let them hate--it only makes you stronger.
   What can a gorgeous blonde girl do but be dumb, they ask?  She is an angel, and you resent her portion, yet know not of your own.  Be the warrior dwarf, and engineer love within.  That Interior Castle known and explored by Saint Teresa of Avila, knowing the little reptiles are easily picked up, as the Gospel (Good News) of Christ expounds, and boldly.
   You're crazy.  Yes, but I'm not stupid.  And Barney Miller never ends.
   Samson kissed Maxie on the cheek.  Brother and sister.  Envy not your brother's portion or your sister's beauty, but feed off of the love.  Feel the electricity of love, within and around.  
   Samson gave praise . . .