Fall-outs from this Faerie Tale's reality

This a faerietale first published in Glastonbury in year 2000 AD

A true-Life-Story -

a magic-all en-chant-meant

a prophesy and prayer for the Native Peoples

a healing wish for the faerie races to re-member

who wee are in Truth beneath,

above and beyond appearances beyond mortality,

to be,

fear-less passion-ate Adam's

apples in the garden of headon

 

The living of this faerie-tale killed me

perhaps I failed or perhaps

the death of ego

the Fall from grace

the loss of Fate

the failure of Fame

the ig-noble infamy

are Nature's way to recognise humility

in humanity

The myths are real enough

the Creation,

the Fall,

the fairytales,

the curses,

the ancient wars,

the genocides,

the alien-nation,

the S naked Lie of the Land,

the False-gods' mythologies,

the orc-castrations of the Luciferians,

or what-ever IT-IS

de cept ion - the 7 deadly sins

the birth of de Light,

the Christ,

the Death,

the ressurection,

the after life

and the looming

T error of technology

terra-forming

trans-human-ism

the artificial intelligence

the alien intelligence

the Fall come full-circle

the Fear of God

the trance-formation

the in-filtration system

the pre-dictive pro-gramming the matrix,

computerization

the UN-united Nations

the "coalition of the Willing"

the so-called 1-World Govern ment Ment

from "mentes" the Latin for "mind"

to "Govern" means "Control"

Govern-ment = mind control spelling

evil = live - back wards

this work of mine is a faerie-tale

an en-chant-ment

a sing-song,

song-lines,

a path thread through the eye of a needle

the path of a storm in a T cup

a World-wind,

a tsumani,

a dream time,

a wake,

a wake-up call,

an up-rising

a past laid to waste

a youth wasted

a path laid to rest

a path that led to many arrests

hands-cuffed,

skin-torn,

clothes-ripped

charges,

nights and long weak-ends in cells

over-charged in cop-shops,

cops-hops,

arrest,

battery,

charge

and coming to terms

in "a warm dry cell",

the non-padded cell,

de livery of a "Paddy-wagon"

stripped and beaten,

accused and judged and punished

shamed,

dis-charged,

re-arrested,

community-serviced,

fined,

reputed,

demon-ized,

mocked, shocked

post-tramatic-stress,

falling through the cracks

living night-mares and black-outs

binge-drinking,

smoking

losing the plot,

finding one-self losing friends,

isolating my-self,

Gods-Will - way-word - way Ward

self-doubt,

guilt,

hang-overs

and through it all

- relation-ship navigating,

keeping afloat,

having faith,

in Soul,

in Self,

in All

Living in a Love-Boat

originally called God's Will

3 little daughters

delivered by mine-own hand

an other decade gone by

middle-ages

earning a living

sold our boat

living on the land

living off grid

sweat of brow,

marrow of bones

working with Nature but ....

yet again ...

a fuedal Land-lord

an alcholic fantacist mentally ill

surrounded by broken-ness

a quagmire in stagnation

depressed and paranoid mis-management

playing people

passive aggression, aggressive passivity

neglect, denial, draining,

psycho-drama threats and violence

a paedofile,

police,

social services

children at risk

communications break-down

my own children at risk

by proxy

whole truth not being told

more threats un-veiled

potential paedofile rings,

nation-wide Free-mason-ic, druids,

Theosophy, protestors, convicts, hidden truths

hidden funding, half-truths, bad-mouthing

not walking the talk,

not tribal, not soul-full

character assasination, isolation

home-less, no place in this world

struggling to make sense,

to integrate to find a place to simply be

council-house working tax credit cut off

back to building sights, labouring for cash

digging the garden, plastic, glass, concrete,

rusted metals, back breaking work,

bending over, aching, feeling the pain,

working with the pain,

tending the soil,

tending the tendons,

tending the thoughts,

intending to heal,

working prayers,

praying for miracles,

praying for a cure,

buying Native seeds to sow,

bringing a waste-land back to beauty,

letting Nature heal

time is a great healer

nursery rhymes schooling, non-schooling,

home-schooling

this is a long-winded description of a unique Faerietale,

a real-life faerietale,

and Life-and-Death faerietale,

an unpolished crystalised faeritale,

warts and all,

the original book is full of beauty,

full of spoken words,

writ-down on paper,

typed into computer,

taken to the printer,

carried through the streets and festivals,

proclaimed from mountain tops,

city streets, sacred sites and slums.

It was full of Art, of meaning, of vision,

and Faith that comes from within,

faith that has no followers, no churches, no property,

no nation-state, no party line, no sponcer-ship,

no commercials, no "public" face,

no member ship forms,

no outer organisation.

No support mechanisms...

I have dis-owned and distanced my self

from my own faeritale book,

from the dis-appointments,

disasters, disgraced and degraded,

the shame and the guilt and the failures.

It's impossible to live up to perfect poetry in this world

where people of good heart are oppressed,

and the collective psyche is split in twain ...

there is too much pain to process

and we have become numb numbers

debased in data-based,

computerised de-human-sized, depraved,

where the streets are littered

with home-lessness and despair ...

My 3 young daughters have lately been asking me to speak poetry to them as lullaby's at bedtime.

It's been a humbling experience ...

It gives me hope and the courage to resurrect my writing the simplicity of accepting my self as is to pick up my pieces and attempt to complete my own jig-saw-puzzle

thanks for all the Love

I've reprinted my old faerie tale

 

There is a book being made of Steve Reeve's { Rest in Peace } life's work from his scattered works of art, scaps of paper and finished canvases. For all it's dystopian data-gathering monetizing spying and manipulating software, Facebook is the imperfect tool of social media by which I can at least let my life's work be pieced-together and made available for anyone who has found a beauty between the lines, between the cracks, between the intervening crevices of my "lost years" ...

 

feel free to get in touch if you feel to get in touch ... thanks you for taking the time to read

 

Here's a link to Steve's R. I. P. facebook page,

with photo's and lots of his art to view

https://www.facebook.com/groups/399304220137556/media/albums