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........