Goodbye.

To any lulu fans.

Hoping I have one or too.

I'm either going to have to stop posting for a while or stop completely.
My current worsening condition of late. Is taking its toll, so I would like to add another
final personal note (I can't seem to find any blog'ability in here). As I have after some
time, become to start to be more accosted to my fate. (Dreamed once after a seizure that I
was a friend of mine I know, [I have two, a girl with M.R] a fine man, who dribbled in his
chair all day and traded smokes on a front step.) I Know the possible outcomes of my
fate, and the true meaning of ambivalent (to fully hate and love at the same time, purely,
and therefore, without rancor [the Father God’s is the same to us pre-salvation]). I guess I
know what I have been seeing and what is in my heart (this is poetry) that for anything of
worth to grow in this earth two things must happen, one, everything that would chose
another life other than it's own must die, or change, for any type of Heaven, haven, to
exist. Even oneself.

To live without this place is a fate worse than any other, to do anything other, finding
oneself unfit, than chose once owns death, or change, by any means necessary (other than
taking ones life IT IS NOT OURS TO TAKE). Proves that we will never be found there,
and were never going to be.

So these three things, all those that would chose authors Heaven, haven, and kill them for
it, these must die, change, or realize their unfitness for any.

Of the first I could not, so the last two until I die, this is my fate. Unflinchingly, without
Railing accusation.

This is the Man, Christ in hell, and how he conquered it, as it says in the book of
Hebrews.

Since there will ever only be one Heaven, haven for me. Being unfit. I must say goodbye,
hoping just a while.

I ask for your prayers.

I will have a family member collect all these and some handwritten.

Please look for a title.

"The angel, the trumpet and the valley of dry bones."

To sleep, perchance to dream.

[Not trying to be dramatic] last chronicles?
http://bipolar.about.com/cs/sfx/a/sfx_ativan.html

Personal not to readers.

Because I had a few questions.

This has all been a collection chronicling what might be at any time of day my last days
here. Some of the less enjoyable side effects of the drug i was made to be addicted to by
misleading information by doctors not blame, doctors are fallible human beings,
especially this one. She cared.

For the dose I was on up to 50mg or more a day. The side effects listed below are for 10-
15mg weekly

some of the worst stuff for me is,

nerve and spine pain akin to spinal meningitis,

nearly constant sever migraine.
Blindness, (temp) going to total atrophy.
Tonic and clonic seizures (wetting myself, and the other and sometimes, hemorrhoids,
seizures can really hurt)
the risk of heart attack (ever know that you are actually right on the cusp of being torn in
half while your hear nearly explodes., stops being scary after the first two months alone.)

the fact that I cope so well and LOOOK good, (now)

and how i was horribly mistreated and now just ignored and slighted.
Because i was left a banded and out of touch with health systems hear and blamed for it,
not helped. Then abused by those who found it amusing.
People can’t tell and don't want to listen to the fact I'm dying.
This is not my first crisis.

Some are about finding a new friend who wont let go no matter how hard I try,
because her holding me down while I flopped about sleeping next to her scared me more
than the devil, hell, and even Him.

I'm trying to finish another Magnum Opus but do know if it's right to let some one love a
person in this condition.

I won’t take the drugs they offer me, as they are all of the same kind that caused the
condition, of morphine based.

This is my poetry.

http://bipolar.about.com/cs/sfx/a/sfx_ativan.html
(Sorry don't mean to Spam) Earth moving moon. Nightingales.

(A secret)

[I knew a child would be born.

Before anyone else did,
you know I did.
Not so thick I could u could stick a spoon.]

Oh what bitter day I see,

that day I never see,
that day I long for eve
never seen,
she traded those divine breast for a warm house,
I death and pain and cold for it,
I suckled agony for the child.
She traded being not like her greatest man,
oh well;
I trade to be like hers not mine.
And none to embrace my will I screamed in cold and pain,
he was that great.
I traded the secrets of the universe and all the silver and gold,
for the diligence of those who would live to fathom out the little kinks,
knowing my death is certain,
but not for thou,
sometimes my shrinking bits made me laugh,
for want of rubber boots.
Wood for a pizza cook,
not too much power in one hand.

But my little stone,

my worthless pebble,
I will not trade.

I smite,
with it,
lest my Father does.

Robbed,
but not to starvation in giving,
attacked but never touched,
betrayed but unbroken,
destroyed and remade daily,
for I am Not a Small thing,
behold the Man,
small precious things.
At last a breathing least,
to die alone for my sins is just Lord,
I cannot count sin to you,
or have intent in the child,
cursing seeds,
even in not,
flesh of my flesh.
I suckled death,
and scorn,
giving my flesh on a bed of solitary ridiculed,
fecease pain.
Never to return or ask or see,
how could I bare it!
I might become and abomination of grief,
and trade rubber boots,
for blood shored WAR!
This too Father God
is utmost grace and compassion to me.

The bloods of bulls have you not called,

but you made me this body of gracious agony,
Cyrus,
Daniel,
son of Joseph.
It is written of me in the scroll,
of this some cannot deny.
You will turn them into plowshares,
go back to tents among your houses,
Joshua,
who sat long after Moses in His glory,
tent your hearts and body,
build living bricks and communities,
or die.

My son
will live in peace.
Shhh.

but he is gracious to me,

a nightingale sang out my window,

I dreamed a moon,
glorious in radiance,
fell out the window looking in.
and there was a sign in heaven,
do you all still not hear,
see,
or understand for healing.

I said in a gift,
if I were a prophet,
she would be my colored coat,
my skin of warmth,
my mantle of power given my by God.

A woman,
standing on the shining vainglorious fickle moon,
clothed in the Son of Man,
which does not burn,
a sun of flesh also,
with twelve stars above her head,
for they came from her belly and rose above us.
Oh happy day,
only I am not clear on this,
did this nightingale call,
or is she,
my wonderfully coat of flesh,
his gift of him,
to have and to hold?

I cry no more.
I am rich!

This is a very personal poem;

Few people would have the biblical,

or personal knowledge of my life to follow it
as
anything other than cryptic ramble. it about trading off everything in life, going back to
different points in my life, dying alone in pain from something I'm not sure is curable yet
and is getting increasingly worse, in a cold dark place, so some one (2) else could be
ward, I had no money and no one to ask and being black no one would help when I
begged. Starving, dying, seizures, prone to heart attack and a nerve pain a kind to spinal
meningitis, migraine and terrifying vision (going blind). Loss grief for ones I held dear.
And my prayers to God. While I read scripture by lighting a bonfire in a filthy abandoned
building. Changing the bed sometimes because of my own fecal matter. I look good now,
rock star-porn star kind of good.

(Other things (things of power in my hand)

I can't speak of because of national security (yes really).
a joke about standing naked in gumboots, playing with electricity in winter.

free flowing,
stream of consciousness kind of poetry.

Chocolate and Coke.

I knew a girl,
who turned wine and bread into smarties and coke,

and one who into m&m's and dew upon the mountain,
I was singing about my little tower,
those precious peaks,

last night I saw the most brilliant bright shining moon,

then I slept and dreamed a dream,

sorry I didn't catch you,
that wicked cat.

I did that,
as Paul said,
which works in me.
Speaking of another,
glorify you in me.
Were you kisses?

Watch 7 mountains fall.

A tissue,
a tissue,
it all falls down.

Take it;
take it all even the promise of!
Leave me this precious worthless gravelly pebble,
I cannot give or cast!

You have money and weapons;

take this stone from my hand.

The unspoken.
To hear far and to see far.
But this is what.

I cannot love like any day in this time,

I burn,
if I shine,
blood sweat and tears becomes a man,
if it be his,
nor roses,
I tear them out by their thorny hoary branch and root,
lest they glory before thee,
if I shine like a million,
million,
suns,
you will not be harmed,
why did you laugh from me and hide,
just because I was ruddy and dirty and in rags,
He told me work,
if I like the son of the morning,
that wicked one,
then a kiss before dying,
as i keep you warm,
upon your breast is all I ask,
but no,
none for you my love.

And he disputed over the body of Moses,

the Lord rebuke you,
Moses lived in a tent,
the builder of the house

suffer them to come unto me,

for such.
Their angel always before Him.

And some me never stop hearing their angels,

And in those days Michael will stand up,
YOU KILLED him!

For he would not love mammon,

more than life.
He needed it,
one man,
to feed the world.

Bitter,
lonely,
pain,
mockery.

I saw,
carrying my tribute upon my back,
I cannot pick it up by Friday!
I have none that day,
wait till the next Thursday?
And telling some about the weeping,
but they spat at me.

How much did they sell you for?

Brave heart!

This bitter herbed bread,

meat without the hip.

Please,
i do not want too heat,,
i do not want to sea,
pluck out my eyes,
cut out my heart,
rip out my spine!

Very he made to be.

And i will not accuse Him.

I must tell the.

Even in hell will I praise you,

oh God,
for you love righteousness.

I cast my bread upon the waters.

Pretty angels.

Take off your shoes!

Who are you and who are you for,
asked Joshua?
I am the Captain of the Heavenly Host. (With a big trumpet he first heralded saying
"Peace toward". not on.
and now,
they have gone through,
for no man or woman can hide from Him or his son or the Spirit.
If you do as they do,
why do you act, as you do not?
If you are in sin, and say,
these things are too lofty for me,
I need help from those who are without it,
but they just hide their sine,
thinking themselves pure,
so they close the door on those who enter.
Those who no not Him,
keep away those who would,
and so they fall,
but not unto death.
Prostitutes get in before queens and falsehood,
and those who Glory with lying love.
They said,
Was Daniel so righteous?
Why would he pray for his sins,
no,
it was not for sin that they could destroy him,
"unless it be about his God".
I knew a women once,
she is dead now.
I know a woman now,
alive but do not know she is dead.
I know another rose to life.
She who is dead I will see again,
of the others,
I am not wise.

This is the law;

he drew a line in the sand.

Cat a stone,
build Babylon,
die in your sin,
bblllellellblblellelbbllell,
they could not have accord,
for they hated there brothers.
They worshiped themselves,
to place themselves in gold upon it.
And the Angel came down.

They say Holiness,

for it had left the Earth,
and God came down with the angels to talk to His friend,
righteous,
in his generation,
to barter for his nephew
Abraham he became.
He would have nothing for his shield,
buckler or reward,
no brick or mammon.

He made the Prophets,

imperfect,
as signs for the people,
cooking in dung,
walking naked.
Standing on walls and shouting,
in prison form the pit in their pain;
Elijah was a man off like passions as any other.
BEHOLD THE MAN!

This IS the Law,

Love the LORD THEY GOD,
BEING YAHWEH,
and they Brother as thyself,
and he was not ashamed to call us his brother,
or us sinners his bride,
we whores of Babylon,
we bastards of Sodom,
we spider house dregs.
Love Him,
and they brother,
who died for us.
This is all the law.

And they TORE DOWN BABEL I SAW IT.

WHO RE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU SAYING ON THIS HIGH PLACE YOU
BARBARIAN?!
Yes this is times past,
I See,
saw it.
And they tore it sown and killed each other,
the firstborn killing his brother,
and so on,
for they did not know each other and their hatred revealed!

And so they fled and spread throughout the earth spreading death.

Now had the holy Angels,

those who were appointed us,
have watched as His kiss was laid upon our head.

For many weeks now,

they have also been throwing the others out.

And they built something’s with their hands,

and put thorns on his head.
And they SOLD HIM FOR MONEY.

I do as you do,
and I KNOW HIM.
If you do but love you best,
though shalt now kill.
For the church is your mother,
God is your Father,
your are his body,
his bride,
his brother,
his inheritance.
he died for the sinner who did not know,
and the ones who did,
but would not give up the struggle,
loving their own lives,
claiming purity,
covering themselves at a wedding with the filth of pride.

NOW COMES THE SLAUGHTER IN EGYPT

EVEN I FEAR THIS DAY!

BACK TO TENTS!

MEN SHALL BE RARE!

TEN WOMEN SHALL SAY.

CALL ME BY YOUR NAME I HAVE MY OWN FOOD.

A STONE<
A BRICK<
A SPEAR<
A SWORD<

A CROSS->

YOU BUILT IT,

SLAUGHTERER COMES.
Who shall stand that day;
it is the DAY OF THE LORD!
Like a leaf in the wind,
blowing the fire of GOD to the furnace.

Where can you hide form him,

did you see the tower of Babel fall,
did you see the adversary fall.

GOD CANNOT BE MOCKED.

HE KNOWS WHO IS HIS AND WHO LOVES HIS SON.

Such pretty words.

Two more to be cast out.

I am Cyrus,
did you think I was made to rebuild,
to know it,
and to kill it when it rises,
why do I can if I die in the struggle.

He says Shhh;
do not tell them the secret to conquering death in him.
Christ.
Yes by conquering death,
by Christ in you.
I will not tell you how.

They grabbed a harlot,

pretending she didn't say I don't need all that much money for nard ANY MORE,
from the very brothel;
she wept and used her hair,
then begged,
then cast out demons and healed the sick,
cut her hair to pay for to anoint him.
The jealous Judas was so upset;
she got more than he did for worthless hair.

Was it with soap,

cover it with paint,
keep you filth rags.

If I did not walk,

through south Yarra to Richmond and nearly get killed stopping it at plenty,
in sackcloth and ashes,
telling you first for day before,
you would all be like sedum,
all like ghoorrah.
Then I say the plague of dust,
the virus,
north,
for the wild Wild West.
For the sword the sword.
I would have told you such wonderful things,
now,
lest He curse the earth,
I will strike you into submission.

This is not a test.

No more warnings,
no more Mr nice guy.

This is not poetry.

This is now across the who earth.
CLICK010101
0101010101010101010101010101010101
010101010101010101010101010101010101010

Who Do YOU WORSHIP?

WHO is YOUR BROTHER?

Not a hand will be raised.

I see a boiling pot from the south,

much further south.

You should have prayed that is did not come in winter.

I will pray to relent no more.
No even for one,
to make two.
If I live there be plenty,
if I die there be plenty,
I would have told you wonderful things.
MAMMON!

Haven’t I been here to be found,

why you wanted to know my name.
All I gave you was gibberish for it.
DEEP SOUTH.
NIGHT NIGHT,
WAILING AND GNASHING.

There will be a slight delay,

sorry for the inconvenience.

THE FIRE AND EGYPT WAS A WARNING SO THE TRUE WOULD NOT.

But it’s raining here. IF IT HAPPENED IN WINTER,

YOU"D HAVE TO BE IN SUMMER.

I see a valley of dry bones left.

A fallen star is hot!

Too personal.
This is a very personal poem;
few people would have the biblical,
or personal knowledge of my life to follow it
as anything other than cryptic ramble. It about trading off everything in life, going back
to different points in my life, dying alone in pain from something I'm not sure is curable
yet and is getting increasingly worse, in a cold dark place, so some one (2) else could be
ward, I had no money and no one to ask and being black no one would help when I
begged. Starving, dying, seizures, prone to heart attack and a nerve pain akin to spinal
meningitis, migraine and terrifying vision (going blind). Loss grief for ones I held dear.
And my prayers to God. While I read scripture by lighting a bonfire in a filthy abandoned
building. Changing the bed sometimes because of my own fecal matter. I look good now,
rock star-porn star kind of good.

(Other things (things of power in my hand)

I can't speak of because of national security (yes really).
a joke about standing naked in gumboots, playing with electricity in winter.

free flowing,
stream of consciousness kind of poetry.