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