Saturday, July 28, 2018

You Never know Until You Know and... You Still Don't know.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

It never fails that a post with some amount of esoteric power; at least appearing to have, seems to take a nose dive into quick obscurity and those that to me seem to be tres ordinaire, stimulate more than the usual chatter. It's not a complaint on my part; more of a curiosity than anything else. I seldom take credit for whatever I write since it is clear to me that I didn't write it. This has been going on for so long that the only time I notice it is when I am reviewing it for errors in the text and find myself wondering where some of the content came from.

God is an endless and enduring wonder to me. The intimacy is wonderful. It 's like an old friend walking through the door every day. I cannot imagine anyone more fortunate than I. At the same time there are any number of people who don't see anything fortunate about my situation at all. God? What's that? I look at the concept of God, as the source of everything of value and the absence of God as the absence of everything of value and am mystified that it is not a common theme, like the sun in the sky and the dew upon the grass, with the former being the cause of the disappearance of the latter. For me, everything connects to God. Everything visible is dependent on the invisible. Nothing has beauty except for God being resident in it. Nothing has meaning or validity, or reality, except that God is present. God is the melody in music, the coherence in form and the meaning in anything that has meaning, as well as the nonsense in the absence of.

How many times have I looked around me at the composition of human faces and seen God gone missing, or the sudden appearance of laughter and a smile and know that what has made it incandescent is the fleeting presence of the light of this world.

Yesterday this young lady cried out from her register and said, “Hey! How are you doing?” The person sacking bags was between us and I felt certain that is who she was talking to but she kept staring right at me- smiling to beat the band- and so I said, “Are you talking to me?” “Yes.” she cried. She was smiling and all lit up and I couldn't figure out why she was talking to me. My friend, said, “Don't you remember? You were talking to her the other day.” Vaguely the memory came to me. It seemed out of proportion to our brief encounter but she was so into it that it made me thoughtful for a moment and then I realized it wasn't her usual self that was talking to me. It was that persona behind the ordinary persona and it has been that persona which I had been talking to in the previous encounter. As soon as that occurred to me, I felt an unshakable conviction that it was God saying “Hi” to me; “just wanted to let you know, Visible, that I didn't miss you talking to me the other day.” It was surreal. The face smiling at me was timeless and radiant. You had to be there. I didn't know this young lady at all but I did know the life force behind her.

Life is magic if we let it be so. This is another part of Mr. Apocalypse, who is revealing the usually hidden essence of the almighty, who is behind every animate form and without which there is no animation. Mr. Apocalypse is not just exposing the falsity that has been deceiving us for so long but is also revealing the poetry and warmth that is the spiritual sun in each and every one of us. For those of us that have invested in that side of existence, it is now coming to fruition as the kingdom of heaven is exposed in every formerly and seemingly mundane effort on our part. I've been telling myself for years that God and the Devil are accessible in every human being and it is up to us who we invoke. In times of material darkness, we call forth the uninformed desire side of each human mirror we look into and that is what returns on us further up the road. For those of us for whom light is the only option... later up the road... light is what returns to us. I'm seeing this on a regular basis now. This is the other side of Mr. Apocalypse, as he makes clear that there are two banks in and out of this world. There is the spiritual bank and The Bank of Marley's Ghost, rattling the chains he forged in life.

I see now that regardless of the impression of madness and folly on my part, there has never been anything mad or foolish in my way of being. It was just early and waiting for Mr. Apocalypse to add the meaning and seasoning to it.

Dear God I love you so much, words can never, ever sum up... or articulate what you mean to me. You are the be all and end all of my life and everything else has never been any more than a waste of time. All those hard, hard miles out there on the high, wide and lonesome have now begun to pay off. Like Jeremiah and that voice crying in the wilderness, it is no longer wilderness but “paradise enow.”


I was 18 and had hitchhiked to Washington D.C. I got a job in the Gospel Union Mission, where I was running the front desk; each evening signing in drunks, junkies and lost souls for one of the three nights of lodging that they were allowed each month. I got free room and board as well as a dollar a day and worked in my off hours at the Blue Bell Cafe across the street. I met a lot of interesting people there and one of them was this fellow, whose problem I don't know what it was ...but one day in the hallway he was reciting portions of The Rubaiyat to me and I was transfixed by it. I asked, “Who is that!?!? He told me and I was at the public library the next day on New York Avenue, listening to Lord Alfred Drake recite the 114 quatrains. In less that a week I had memorized it.

Funnily, some months later I ran into this fellow and invited him to stay at my place (I was working at the Division for the Blind at the Library of Congress then). He moved in. I had wanted to see “Psycho” which was playing at the theater down the street but was afraid to do so, living alone and having such an imagination. So... I went down the street to see it and it scared the shit out of me. I returned home to find him gone and couldn't take a shower for a week. Later on, nothing scared me anymore except that I might offend God.


I was 6 to eight years old- in my childhood- and every night I could hear werewolves howling and vampires in the corners of the room and I would huddle under my blankets, shivering with fear and... never again. Nothing from the darkness scares me anymore, because my world is filled with light now. It's amazing how things change... amazing!


I want to leave you with this today; Mr. Apocalypse is not just showing you all the dark uglies that we have become so used to, where the bad guys are caught with their pants down. Mr. Apocalypse is not just catching the bad guys with their naked butts waiting on the math teachers paddle ...but he is also showing us how sweet and true is the love of heaven, impersonally expressed in each of us being on equal footing with one another... oh yeah!!!

How many times have I said to the ineffable... “Lord... let me sit at the outskirts of your kingdom, where light and shadow touch one another and no one wants to sit there except for me. All the important folk are crowding the main stage and I just want to be off to myself there, with no one crowding me and I know... deep in my heart I know that the last thing I want to do- or be- is pressed up against everyone else, when I can be isolated and free. It's hard to explain but you don't have to explain it to me. To truly love God and be immersed in the beauty of what God is, cannot be expressed in words; not ever. God is so amazing that no one gets it till later and then... like Mr. Apocalypse showing the good side, instead of the bad side that we have seen for far too long... somehow... God shows the light side, instead of what we have grown so used to... so let me say it again:::::


'Dear God I love you so much, words can never, ever sum up... or articulate what you mean to me. You are the be all and end all of my life and everything else has never been any more than a waste of time. All those hard, hard miles out there on the high, wide and lonesome have now begun to pay off. Like Jeremiah and that voice crying in the wilderness, it is no longer wilderness but “paradise enow.”


Just in case I missed something.

So... like I said-------------------

“It never fails that a post with some amount of esoteric power; at least appearing to have, seems to take a nose dive into quick obscurity and those that to me seem to be tres ordinaire, stimulate more than the usual chatter. It's not a complaint on my part; more of a curiosity than anything else. I seldom take credit for whatever I write, since it is clear to me that I didn't write it. This has been going on for so long that the only time I notice it is when I am reviewing it for errors in the text and find myself wondering where some of the content came from.”


I love you all, as I suppose you know, or not... God bless you one and all.


End Transmission........

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust unto Dust, and under Dust to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!

This poem is so powerful, it must have ruffled many in high places in those dark days...
This poem really connect with this very old,
primal belief that nature is truly our Mother, our sister, our lover!



No fear of death as such we have now existed,
as we knew inherently we were integral part, we would rejoin her, as lovers in an eternal dance

YabYum

An eternal dance between light and darkness!
Total flux between solid state and ethereal state( if that even named like that!)
What a rollercoaster ride my friends!


Sadly patriarchal mind set took over
Fear of death is the sickness
Engraved in our heart
Cemented in our day to day rituals
this amnesia about our origin has been orchestrated by psychopath predators
They have turned us into soulless vessels!

Lol here I go again, blabbing on by myself lmao
Thanks for reminding me of that poem!


Audrey

Laura said...

I am so gratified when any of your posts have some esoteric power ~ the be all and end all! The thing is it seems I always have the same words of gratitude to express after I read your posts with the wisdom therein and the divinity flowing through. So I most likely don’t comment. You are being read with constancy and I appreciate all the esoterica now weaved into all the blogs.

Love and grace ~
Laura

Anonymous said...

https://www.reddit.com/r/greatawakening/comments/92qtm2/white_hats_if_you_think_ben_szemkus_bernxmas_and/

Love To Push Those Buttons said...

Another 'nostrils up'! Now off for a nap betwixt mine split shift.

DuntoiRab Helton said...

Is that an Aspire Pegasus mod I see in the video?
I use that, I so wish vapes cme out years and years ago. Then maybe I wouldn't have COPD now.
Saying that I didn't use the inhalher yesterday, perhaps going vegan aand reading your direct to me God muublings are a cure!

Lots of love coming atcha

Anonymous said...

Kicking barren reason from your bed...yes!

Anonymous said...

Am I having a deje vu moment with this petri dish? Was it here before?

Mandocello

Ray B. said...

Vis, I am sure that the current-era Consciousness Bubble has a lot to do with seeming non-response to your "post(s) with some amount of esoteric power" and vice versa. I have come to see/feel that the CB is a real thing. It tries to pull folks into whatever is the 'norm'. (Of course, the norm is pretty low during this era - and the baddies are trying to reinforce the downward path wherever possible.) It literally is like a 'pressure' not to note or latch-onto or respond-to certain things. Halfway between being-in "The Matrix" and the experience a fish has of 'noticing' water. So, readers will 'easily' respond to low-consciousness columns and find it harder to generate the 'push' to respond to higher-level stuff. Sigh...
---
Vis: "How many times have I looked around me at the composition of human faces and seen God gone missing, or the sudden appearance of laughter and a smile and know that what has made it incandescent is the fleeting presence of the light of this world."

Yeah, it is sad how much of the time people have 'checked out' due to fitting-in. Sign of the times. On the other hand, when you can 'evoke' a smidgen of the the god-presence in someone, it is magickal...

Best Wishes,
Ray B.

Anonymous said...

Your words reminded me of this beatiful poem by Rumi:
Reason says,
I will win him with my eloquence.

Love says,
I will win him with my silence.

Soul says,
How can I ever win him
When all I have is already his?

He does not want, he does not worry,
He does not seek a sublime state of euphoria -
How then can I win him
With sweet wine or gold? 

He is not bound by the senses -
How then can I win him
With all the riches of China?

He is an angel,
Though he appears in the form of a man.
Even angels cannot fly in his presence -
How then can I win him
By assuming a heavenly form?

He flies on the wings of God,
His food is pure light -
How then can I win him
With a loaf of baked bread?

He is neither a merchant, nor a tradesman -
How then can I win him
With a plan of great profit?

He is not blind, nor easily fooled -
How then can I win him
By lying in bed as if gravely ill?

I will go mad, pull out my hair,
Grind my face in the dirt -
How will this win him?

He sees everything -
how can I ever fool him?

He is not a seeker of fame,
A prince addicted to the praise of poets -
How then can I win him
With flowing rhymes and poetic verses?

The glory of his unseen form
Fills the whole universe
How then can I win him
With a mere promise of paradise?

I may cover the earth with roses,
I may fill the ocean with tears,
I may shake the heavens with praises -
none of this will win him.

There is only one way to win him,
this Beloved of mine -

Become his.

Thank you for showing us the way to the kingdom within.

Anonymous said...

The Goddess snd Mr. Apocalypse spoke well via our Vis. Much love.
Robert.

LostJEB said...

On a couple of message boards I took part in in the '90s, before the days of blogs being so much of a thing, we made observations that the absolute best things that would get posted on the boards tended to get zero replies or close to it. Over time low reply threads got to be recognized as things of excellence, in terms of what was being addressed and said(the boards revolved around music, culture, and politics primarily). There's little that can be added to gems, the cutting and polishing is already there. This century, in some sense Twitter is similar, where people get ratioed.

Anonymous said...

Dear Visible,
Just piping up here boss to share. Had to go to the ER for murderous back spasms and 9/10 of the staff were utterly indifferent. The doctor was great but the rest were extras from Jacob's Ladder. Wow. I was sober and clean, no matter.
Love,
Matt

Visible said...

A new Visible Origami in up now-

In Times of Material Darkness, Love Rules Supreme.

Visible said...

A new Smoking Mirrors is up now-

A Critique of Pure Metaphysics (grin).