Tuesday, January 16, 2024

"Voices Trail... Like Moonbeams into Shadows. It Gives The Shrouds of The Hungry Ghosts... an Ambergris Glow."

God Poet Transmitting.......


Do you doubt this is so?





Of course, it's so. Confirmed? Yes, it's confirmed. All along they told us not to believe our lying eyes.




New forces from The Celestial Plane have been released upon The Earth, inwardly and outwardly. Suddenly Mr. Apocalypse has more than a walking stick, and Lady Awakening's alarm clock has a ringer. The World is slipping from their grasp.


Now... suddenly Trump is wearing a white hat (literally), and the mainstream media is covering him in a nearly normal manner or... what passes for normal for them.




It's almost like the whole thing was scripted. It is our contention it's been scripted since before the election was stolen. It's our contention that conditions have gone sideways since then by intention... in order to create the present climate of a desperate need for change.


I suspect this is true, but... not in the way the scriptwriters from The Club we are not members of intended. Even now... all the players think it is going their way. They're 3 steps ahead of us and believe we are 4 steps behind. They'll be singing the songs of Come Hither... right up to The Gates of Perdition and beyond... their voices trailing away like moonbeams disappearing into shadows. It gives the shrouds of The Hungry Ghosts an ambergris shine in The Darkness.


The Face of God... as it materializes into form... in its closest approximation of our expectations... will reveal itself exactly according to the specifications of whether we are naughty or nice. Will it be Santa Claus or... Santa Claws? It's in times like this when a little dyslexia goes a long way.


Lack of Gratitude is a ticking time bomb. I'm walking in the sunlight and singing Con Te Partirò.




(we're all blind who have not learned to see within... because nothing around us makes any sense at all.) I sing to the heavens because there is nothing prosaic about my romance.


I'm not mistaking the temporary visage for the eternally unseen... ever... again. All love songs for me are love songs to God... because there is no other love. Everything we covet with our eyes here... is based on what shines in the eternal invisible since the dawn of time. All our mistaken impressions have been watered down into a profane fantasy of something we can no longer remember.


Ah... the soaring rapture beneath this cathedral of the stars... The Lord of The Sky... shining too bright to see... with every newly awakened day. It never ends. It is always there... the glorious skies... and the concealing weather... the demonic chemtrails... are only a brief moment in time.


Here at the ground level, we muck our way through ancient antagonisms... in search of something more. There it is!!! Lifetimes ahead... it seems... or... in an instant... we discover ourselves on that day that never ends... where The Sun never arrives at mid-day... because then it would have to descend, but... it will not descend... ever again.


It will simply grow brighter and brighter... until the splendor swallows us entire... into an unshakable unity, and then we will shine as well... having uncovered the light within. Ah! What a Christmas morning that will be... there... where the thunderbolt illuminates The Tree of Life, and... we are in The Garden again.


All this nonsense here below. I see a man slapping himself in the face for years uncounted. He screams, but the silence mocks him. A tree has fallen in the forest of his delusion but it will not wake him. His dreams of rapine and murder... of ruthless ambitions... and dangerous pride... there he stands on the precipice he cannot see. His eyes are closed and he fears to open them. There is reason enough for that. He has made God into a precise image of himself.


What horrors he will see... if he opens his eyes, and looks into the mirror of The World he has created around him. We make love like angry goats, rutting monsters into form, and so we have this world of the moment... populated by monsters... whose anger is so great... it trembles with such a fury... that it creates a fire to burn The World. We have degenerated far... far down the labyrinthine roads... into madness, and... Ariadne has given us no thread to follow our way back.


This is what we made, and it is a cry for help. It is a cry of collective pain, and it has reached The Heavenly Spheres... as it always does... two thousand years... across the space... of a tiny catch in The Life Breath of God. It comes and goes like waves coming to the shore. It will not be denied. It does not matter what a mess we have made of things here. This was all planned too. We were let out to play but no one taught us how to play before they let us go.


Life instructs us through pain; Don't go that way. It hurts! Life spins in an endless kaleidoscope of seductive shapes... that draw us in... and trap us in the sticky efflorescent webs of materialized desire. We hang there... immobile... because every effort led to more of the same.


Finally... Death... in great compassion... comes to free us of our most recent effort to find what we were looking for... out there... somewhere. Somewhere that we never have, and never will... find it. That is what The Search teaches us; that... it... cannot... be... found... out... there.


Off we go again... into the recycle bin... to get a new (and improved) form that will prove... yet again... that all our plans and inventions were folly. The myths and fables teach us, but no one remembers past the point... where The World divides into opposites... in The Dance of Attractions. Don't go that way. It hurts! We go though. Surely this time it will be different. Don't touch that! It will burn you... but we do. We do it over, and over, and over again.


He got rich, only to learn how poor he is. Nothing he desperately needs can be bought with the money he has. He has a warehouse full of money that only buys useless things. She got famous only to learn that the whole world would hump her leg... non-stop... even if... after a time... The World has to close its eyes just to get through it. He became powerful in order to learn he was powerless.


Now... they think they can live forever... if they download their consciousness into a cyborg unit, but The Soul is wise to that bullshit and refuses to follow along. They hope to remove every sign of age from their face... so as to perpetuate the repulsive ugliness they formed of themselves... due to their utter lack of any understanding of beauty or... grace... or charity and generosity which... along with other qualities are THE ONLY SOURCES of beauty the awakening eye will ever see.


Okay!!! Let us force the eye to see what we demand it must see, regardless of what actually appears. Here at least... it actually helps that appearances are a lie. Look at the lovely visage Schwab, Gates, and Soros sculpted of themselves with the chisels of wasted time upon their faces. Look at the hideous mess that all of them have made out of themselves. They will return here again, already looking like that. They won't have to create it again. Now they can make it even worse.


Soon enough... they will be reborn... as the animal equivalent... of what their thoughts shaped out of the form of their flesh... under the guidance of the avarice... cruelty... wicked ambitions... angers and lusts... that drove them forward to the terrible place their poisoned imaginations visualized for them... powered by The Separated Will... that made it possible for them to shake their impotent fists at the heavens they cannot reach by planes... trains... and automobiles. These are the real velvet ropes that they cannot pass.


As ye sow... so shall ye reap... above and below... cross the wide and the deep... of the endless landscapes... of burning sands... under a merciless sun... that really wishes them the best if they only knew, but they wish no one the best except for themselves, and here it is that they learn... through the loneliness designed by a heart bereft of love. What can you attract without Love? Absolutely nothing worth having.


When you are going down the toilet you circle the drain by degrees going down. You see something you never saw before, and soon it becomes commonplace. Then you again see something you never saw before, and before you know it, that too becomes commonplace. Things happen that never happened before... they become routine. Something else happens, and it becomes routine. Such is the nature of the descent of those who walk into darkness where what they seek is to be found.


THE SAME PROCESS repeats if you are going up. You see things you never saw before and they become commonplace, and again... and again... wonder upon wonder... joy... birthing joys transcendent.. splendor upon splendor of lights... brighter... denser... more conscious and alive. I experience this as each new day passes, just as I did the other when I was pressed into the murk for The Purpose of Demonstration as a rite of passage.



We get what we are due, what we deserve. There is a magical agency that records everything we think and say and do. We reap it in the short term and we reap it over the course of lifetimes, but... we shall not escape the fruits of our industry, and now? Now comes a great transitioning and judgment on form as The Archetypes transform in aspect. Vaya con dios!




End Transmission.......



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English lyrics for Con Te Partirò



When I'm alone
I dream on the horizon
And words fail
Yes, I know there is no light
In a room where the sun is absent
If you are not with me
At the windows
Show everyone my heart
Which you set alight
Enclose within me
The light you
Encountered on the street



I'll go with you
To countries I never
Saw and shared it with you
Now, yes, I shall experience them
I'll go with you
On ships across seas
Which, I know,
No, no, exist no longer
With you, I shall experience them



When you are far away
I dream on the horizon
And words fail
And yes, I know
That you are with me
You, my moon, are here with me
My sun, you are here with me



I'll go with you
To countries I never
Saw and shared it with you
Now, yes, I shall experience them
I'll go with you
On ships across seas
Which, I know,
No, no, exist no longer
With you, I shall experience them again
I'll go with you
On ships across seas
Which, I know,
No, no, exist no longer
With you, I shall experience them again
I'll go with you


7 comments:

Love To Push Those Buttons said...

Nostrils to the sky!

TotoFromOz said...

"Ah... the soaring rapture beneath this cathedral of the stars..." is how I feel whenever I look up into the stars. Especially so when I look & ponder with delighted AWE, at my astrophotography shots of the Milky Way...a hobby I've recently developed. The days' cloudscapes & intense blue sky has similar effect in me, but nothing can compare to what the cosmos displays.

Anonymous said...

Re: moonbeams
It is said that moonlight is a cold light as opposed to
the warm rays of the sun. Its a Different Kind of light.
Put a object in the sun. It warms up. Put same object
In the moonlight and it gets Colder.
Seems to show that moonlight CANT be reflected sunlight.

Again, I have “heard” that the moon is a “luminary”
and like the sun, are in fact, local and small, not
big and far. they are luminaries of Gods creation.

Is the moon a crystalline translucent disk that gives
off its own unique form of light. ( cant refract moonlight through a
prism and get the rainbow spectrum ) its the same size as the sun.
Its not 230,000 or so miles away.

The sun is not super massive ( compared to earth ) and
is not 93,000,000 miles away. Since its local, appears the
same size as the moon which allows perfect eclipses and
hide and seek, precision overlaps of shadow, is because they
are the same size.

I have “heard” that they are about 30 miles across
and 3,000 miles above the earth.
God is real
We live in His Creation
All is provided that we need
Luminaries suspended above us giving us
time and dates via their controlled movement
above us.

Stable, unmoving earth
No “procession of the equinoxes”
No 23 degree “tilt” on “axis”
( so, all these ancient sites that have have sunrays shine
through certain spots at time of the equinox, that cast specific
shadows to appear to move up and down temples on specific dates
that never change and reappear year after year, without fail, over the
centuries, all while the “globe” is supposed to “wobble” as it “rotates”
on its “axis” yet it all still lines up every year.

-so I hear

(Dont go down rabbit holes but dont kid yourself
they aren’t there)

Visible said...

What you hear is suffused with too much moonlight. It causes things to appear smaller and larger than they are. Moonlight also gives absurd impressions of things seen by moonlight. If such things were true, and not the stuff of voices on The Wind it would have been confirmed by the wise of various ages of time. ONLY in this brief period do we hear such things that are ferried to us through tunnels under Chabad Houses by large purple and insubstantial creatures from southern malls.

robert said...

Ah... the soaring rapture beneath this cathedral of the stars... The Lord of The Sky... shining too bright to see... with every newly awakened day. It never ends. It is always there... the glorious skies... and the concealing weather... the demonic chemtrails... are only a brief moment in time.

Ah Visible!

What of joy that words can convey, you pass through to your readers!

It will simply grow brighter and brighter... until the splendor swallows us entire... into an unshakable unity, and then we will shine as well... having uncovered the light within. Ah! What a Christmas morning that will be... there... where the thunderbolt illuminates The Tree of Life, and... we are in The Garden again.

The evidence of things unseen rising and shining through to the fitfully slumbering, unwitting witnesses to the spectacle of the ages old though never needing spectacles

A romping through the nightmare romances on the way back to basic being...

followed by hope for the hopeful:

THE SAME PROCESS repeats if you are going up. You see things you never saw before and they become commonplace, and again... and again... wonder upon wonder... joy... birthing joys transcendent.. splendor upon splendor of lights... brighter... denser... more conscious and alive. I experience this as each new day passes, just as I did the other when I was pressed into the murk for The Purpose of Demonstration as a rite of passage.

... Now comes a great transitioning and judgment on form as The Archetypes transform in aspect.


Feeling good Lewis? (grin)

The pressure of the inner esteem pump:

When we let all flow through us without question, the energy goes where One wills
If we suffer ourselves to try to hold in our grasp what is not ours to have control over, we burn our intention down to open wounds

Waiting for the One in humble wonder, feeding our soul back its due reverence
or
Running at full tilt toward a fleeing fantasy of fire, away from responding to cries of soul ignored

The choices we have made by habit continue to kill us
Until we choose to become conscious enough to converse with infinity and find ourselves lifting above the mean

Anonymous said...

"What you hear is suffused with too much moonlight. It causes things to appear smaller and larger than they are. Moonlight also gives absurd impressions of things seen by moonlight. "

Check out the song "Tales by Moonlight" by Amaarae, a really talented African singer. The music video is quite good, on youtube.

Visible said...

A new Visible Origami is up now=

"Some Say to Go Impersonal, and Some Say Get Real Personal about The Medium of Your Salvation. I Say, Do What Works."





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