luvpogl-music

[luvpogl-music]

"Hey, I wasn't expect...." is all he managed to say on the phone before she interrupted him.

"That SON OF A B! TCH! I can't believe he humiliated me like that, right in front of everyone. Like I was his pet. Look, I can't go home tonight, I'm coming over." is all she said before hanging up the phone.

He knew what she was looking for, the truth was he saw it the first time they met. She was hangin' on to nothing at all, telling herself the lies all women do to justify the bad decisions they've made just to excuse her acceptance of the abuse.

There was a knock at the door about 30 minutes later, he could feel the angry tears through the wooden door as he opened it. As the slightly ajar door opened further, she managed to choke back any signs of weakness that may be construed by a lost composure of something as useless as "feelings". He'd shed himself of the weakness as a child, but what can you expect from a man raised in the jungle of wild animals whose only pleasure was takin in the suffering of others. Maybe that was something that kept him picking up her calls even though he knew better; there was something about her still holding on to the belief of human decency and compassion that intrigued the inner mysterious parts of him. Something he couldn't resist, like a drug he couldn't refuse, but he would never let her.

She stepped into the soft lit entry to the living room. A fireplace embraced the air with its warm fingers slowly dancing upon the embers of the knuckled logs. He took her by the hand and quietly walked her to the bathroom down the hall, where nothing but a few candles broke the black silence that draped the room. He took position standing directly behind her as she stood half gazing at the floor as the flickering lights danced across the bubbles and rose petals that filled the oasis that rose up from the floor before her.

He pulled aside the loose strands of hair that fell freely across her shoulders; pushing them away to expose the nape of her neck, that even the collar of the stiffest professional attire could defend. He placed a few small kisses at the exposed vertebrae, he pulled her closer to him with one hand grasping at her abdomen with passion, while the fingers of his other began working down the buttons of her suit.

Once he'd unlocked the last button from her untucked shirt, he reached up and gently persuaded the top over the last remaining strong hold of her shoulders, once the shirt had made its way over the last of its resistance, he took a step back and watched as it fell like a waterfall onto the floor. He whispered, "For You", then turned, shutting the door as close as he could without it actually latching. He walked back into the kitchen to finish preparing the dinner he'd began just after she called. Pouring some wine, he began to play the atmosphere not with notes of love, just sex...

After leaving, she pulled back the bath curtain to expose the rest of the basin and noticed the words "I'm Sorry" spelled out in rose petals across the rippling waters...

[Well, I think we all get the rest of the picture. Maybe next time, we'll pick up with the dinner part? Or move onto something else; the bedroom...].

[luvpogl-music]

[It wouldn't be fair of me children of chicanery to say good night with out addressing more of the mess our little Noir has gotten herself in. It seems to me that the reason flamingo's only stand on one foot is (oh, wait, that Hans Christian again; playing hands int eh madness and mystery only poor men and women see). Here we are again, the notes of my Tabula rasa (hint: it's a big old Latin word that means nothing) it seems we left this languishing lady in the midst and fear that what had plagued her all along was finally causing her to drown]

With all her might and all her strength Noir began throwing magic and breathing fire battling of the fiends that were around, taking refuge only in the solace of two small dragons that claimed her castle for their own. The constant barrage of attention driving her farther into isolation, and no matter how hard she seemed to work, God seemed to longer listen to her dreams of the things in her heart. Feeling destined and doomed she too started to covet the lies those around her had told; since after all they were concerned for her "best interests".

So, when those magical bread crumbs began arriving at her feet, befuddled by something so odd and unique her heart did feel a warmth and the happiness once again glowed. And those people around her, they saw how enthused and amused they enraptured her mind. At first it was cute, and many pretended too to be amazed with the skill and craft of the hands that created them. But then, as does when jealousy sets in, the anger grew from within each of them leaving with only thoughts of how to deceive and gain advantage of things that awoke her attention. Boxes and letter would be opened by everyone, pieces and parts scattered about with little or no regard to the attentiveness which had packed them. Grabbing hold of the portions of papers that were hers only seeking to catch a glimpse to serve their shameless shallowness.

For a time Noir was so impressed her time was again dancing on cloud nine. While God continued to work the magic with which he guides all of us, evil does like it always does and began to creep it's darkness into things that shine, bringing with it vulgar acts of deceit to wash it out. No longer were the gifts that fell from heaven seen as good; no those demons took them and because the words confused them so turned them into words of abuse. At times others would jeer with pride how it was them who sent the offerings of peace and light. Conspiracies and rumors began to crumble the walls of her heart and too, thoughts of terrible things began to occupy her mind. All because some children around her, spoke words of disgust to force their beliefs upon her.

No longer did those gifts seem what her heart had told her as right, instead they turned into the sick tokens of stalkers and heathens. Attitude grew darker and darker and fear; fear reached up to seize the perfect opportunity as it does in all of us, just when things get hardest. But some absurd belief that claiming power over evil is to stand up and gather groups of demons to stand and spew venom at the hearts of good women and men; all hoping too that the poison will overtake the blood of life and sicken it as much as it sickens them. Growing stronger and stronger, like mob mentality, until the world joins in, unaware of anything that's truth, all connected by the joy in abuse and attack of something that jealousy turned from love into rage; claiming righteousness under the veil of deception, believing that God wants us to attack ghosts of evil, rather than the evil that is right in front of us.

This lifted another spirit inside of Noir like she hadn't ever felt before. A power and sense of finally being one of the "cool kids"; all rallying around that common attack of something that never was, only figments of their misunderstood minds. The beat their chests with pride bragging of just the things they would do should they ever get their hands on him. Many using it just to grab hold of that which was God's. And in the height of the hysteria and mysteriousness, a silent scream cried out to the heavens above, a scream which was heard by no one, but him. And Job looked at what sat in his lap, and he knew he couldn't just leave that one last attempt to the winds of trash. So, as the silent scream reached his chest, he pushed it aside and sent one last gift.

[Now my mind is to tired to talk of things that demand serious concern and nature of words such as this. So we will leave Noir their silently screaming to the hearts of the world, and Job, the only one around in full control of himself. So, sleep soundly seamstresses of sin; and when we pick this journal of drafted notes up again. I do believe that maybe, Job and Noir may just finally meet].

[luvpogl-music]

[And so know you psychologically swift sadistic sinners of the night; where did we last find that degenerate called Job, who's big ideas and faith of God left him derelict and neglected by even the best hands of society? Ah, yes if memory serves the correct feast, he had just got the notion that somehow, God found the only blessing he had, one item left to call his own; and throw it away in the hands of the beast!]

And so Job found ways to fill his hands with work, even while navigating the shifty underworld of the midnight streets. He wrote symbols and hieroglyphs of all magical sorts, not just for the ears, but rather a strange sensation of sounds, which when transcribe blinded the eyes and pierced right to the heart. By day he'd let those words speak mysteries to life's magical wonders, putting reality to the legends of old. And at night he worked just as feverishly with his lessons, but sometimes, yes sometimes even God saw he should break, and it was in those times The Beast would awaken and stir across the Aetherverse.

Seeing the joy in his heart and the blessings he attempted to give the world, it was then God spoke to him and said, "NOW GIVE IT AWAY"! And this conception caused constant rumination at the back of his thoughts. "But, who, how, what could be so deserving of the special nature of those words he'd writ?" at times becoming deranged by the thoughts. And so when his pen would no longer work, and he had not other adventures for the day to incur, he found a way to begin a search. He asked The Lord to put before him all the lost souls of the world, to which he should select from them, one, one chosen to receive something so powerfully precious and unique.

At times the search becoming more urgent in his mind as time was only further passing by. It was here God left him on his own search, as He ventured the world addressing other concerns. Days and weeks went by, Job pouring through the photos and talking with people from all walks of life; it was all seven continents coming together as one, from which he was to make this important selection. He'd spend time with one or two, but it was never long before they'd be gone, back to their routines; leaving Job sitting to ponder more alone.

And then one day, just as one passerby was walking away that a photo of another came across his view. This picture though, this picture was very different than the rest. There was a spirit of emptiness that ripped through the page, stabbing his chest with a pain he would never forget. And intrigued by the thoughts of just what could leave a person so beautiful that empty he began to investigate further if maybe it was her that was supposed to be given those words. Now, he'd given lot's of people words and thoughts to tickle and tease their desires and dreams, but the words of these books were more precious than that. For these words, had a power inside of them, that carried a power with them. A power so great that if wielded by the wrong person or taken before a thought complete, would bring ruin an demise to all those that did speak.

You see, those words had meanings behind them, but crafted in such a way that those who did not study and read the magical books of the world, there meaning they would obfuscate. And the twisted misunderstandings and confusion among them would make everyone sound only like they were babbling rather than displaying any truth of God's authority. And this too, every good and studious Jewish boy and girl knows to be in fact the gift with which their ancestors first blessed the world with. Unknown to most, but from the beginning of time, hated and revered those people were for Wisdom and Knowledge is how their God had blessed them, making them the first empire built by educated means. [I do believe that Jerusalem was the first city center dedicated to being a great center of spirit and scientific knowledge. Another hidden message displayed by the fruit of good and evil; given to man by the hand of woman in the Garden of Eden].

So after some time went by and Job, through the course of his daily discourse with the enlightened men he could find, he would keep a watch over that girl and find if it was her that should be delivered from the fires of hell that rage around us all. Time went by and he finally got the nerve to speak, here and there he'd toss clever and cunning comments just trying to get her attention, but she just kept ignoring him. To busy to bother with things that did not shine, more concerned with the leeches that clung to her. The scoffing he just brushed off, but something told him just to never give up; for he understood by now things far greater than she had even dreamed when she was young.

And so he continued with his contributions of little things, and those little things turned into medium things and more of his time did he dedicate to provide them for her to see. But Job was no fool you see, for it was Wisdom he asked God for; a lesson which turns out is a never ending curse and blessing. Never ending because no human can ever fully attain it, only get better at practicing it and a blessing, because it is through wisdom that pain becomes something easier to live with. He had come to discover this young lady's name was Noir.

Now, he'd heard of her before, but never paid her much mind. For she came from a place that he'd cut his teeth on before bubblegum was around. Those legends who built the foundation of the stage she stood on. Back when there was still music in the breath of the world, by now though most of it has been turned over to the hands of greed of Satan's hand. Once a little group of men from England demonstrated to the world, just how smart four pour kids from the East End could make a success of it, pariahs came to prostitute it all costs. Draining every piece of beauty from it, until there was nothing left but an empty shell of made up faces to sell the brainwashed fans.

It was that Job loathed from the menial model being sold to the mindless masses. But something about her rang different chords through his ears, after all, one should at least have a bit of courtesy to listen as well as they asking others to listen. The weeks turned to months and Job continued to work and develop strings of those symbols which might get her attention. And then one chilly October day, late morning it was, something happened, something that neither of them would ever forget.

[Well, children of ciphers, let us leave this demented derelict to his deceitful tactics and remember friends, these words like them; can be just as dangerous should you use them wrong. So astute in their use a studious one should become, or troubles worse than Jobs may just befall you].

[luvpogl-music]

[And so devil's of delight of the night, let's take some time to see if we can leave Noir in a beat of peace as we bring these short pages of story to some sort of close before resting a while in summer sun].

Now for Noirs part, from all outward appearances things were going great. As the success and connections grew bigger and bigger it got easier accepting that not so good feeling one gets when they find themselves thrust into life so young. Learning to accept that it was just how business is done. Even more assured by some around her that encouraged deceits, for so long had love been anything exciting to talk or discuss in the world; the only way the money would come is to make sport of it having fun with anyone who still thinks that it could exist. Sure their were rules, which make it easier to justify in self-righteous eye. Exposed to people who believe that their bank account made them God and to prove it they'd shower down gifts and trinkets of insignificance to crowds and with laughter sit back as the pigeons scurried across the ground to pick them up, like pieces of bread tossed in the grass. A practice only confirmed by the praise pride demands when it forces one to praise the good works done.

Not all around her were like that, for she was also blessed to see a vast majority of people who genuinely cared for the work and tidings they'd give. People who's gifts from the heart really did make a difference never demanding a thing, sitting back silently wrapped in the joy of just being able to do it. And while both sides of the hourglass were given to her that she may see she found herself more and more struggling with the God she'd known from her childhood as life kept leaving the bigger questions she asked unanswered.

And then one day, one day a package arrived. She hadn't seen anything like it in years to her disbelief. Taken back again her heart began to sink, for all those thoughts the evil around her had worked so hard to accept as reality were in question again. In sense a new river flowed in trying to wash her heart. And then after a bit longer, another one did arrive, this one just as curious as the last and while he heart and mind were taken away; the other part of her snapped back. Assured by all that surrounded her that it couldn't be, that in fact it was much worse than she'd thought; it was, what people in her work feared most of all.

She battled their doubts with questions of great range and power, many they could not answer with honest guess. They then brought in their officials and highly educated who are experts in such things, to only confirm what they believed. She read and read them again, certain she hadn't misunderstood, but they all proved to her just how wrong she was and best if she would flee. In that flight they could work more tricks if misconception and ill-conceive notion only to confirm what they wanted to prove against her thoughts. And so the girl Noir disappeared in fear, far from sight. And in the course of the curse they were all sure did await she pulled from her sleeve power she wanted never to use against anyone, but one thing was clear from all the experts and friends, that she had no choice but to do it, for even those most knowledgeable among them with witchcraft agreed and encouraged their assessment of those marked packages.

And as more and more came it only confirmed their conjures of confection trying everything to force from her the last piece of God. But they had missed one particular thought, when she said stop, they all stopped; certainly only God could have known or done that. This angered the crowed around her further as they were closer than ever to gaining full control of her, and with the shine of truth again on her path, the devil would roar hire and hire sinking to new depths in his rumblings of men all to ensure that Noir would forever be part of his family. Securing another spot in the devil's wall of fame, claiming the mark of greatness in history for another family's name.

And after some time Noir began to carry on again, picking up where she'd left off, throwing back stronger and more powerful magic then she'd ever used before. Telling herself she'd see just which is right, and the more fire she hurled and magic that turned to greater heights the devil took her still further away. You see many of the mysteries of the Jews had been construed and perverted by many of those around who claimed to behold of it's beauty and truth; she had never seen just how sick some of those other tribe members would get just praying to claim victory over defeat in a battle that was only ever inside just themselves, to blind and angry with life to focus on them, only seeking to steal oil from the lamps of those who can see.

[And so that shall leave you well enough my friends to Noir's end. She is stuck casting and fighting back the evil that abounds her in her final breath of belief. Holding on to what truth she has left; part of her starting to accept that gifts are just tricks anyone can do. As for me my friends I am not sure if I will pick this up any more, as there is much more I could and do have to write, but as for now with all those handcuffs of life bogging me down it makes the obligation uncertain - as I sit staring at approximately eleven thumdrives and cards now seemingly rendered useless, loss of works started unable to work on, some dating back to a time when orange string shoes were all I had for bindings. Papers shuffled about, some taken for other's use, and a plethora of phone and internet problems I was told nothing can be done about, but like Noir, I refuse to believe that - and so those things must command a bit more of my time - Rest Easy You Masters of Beasts #luvpogl]

[luvpogl-music]

[ Let us now conclude the story of Job and that girl; at least as far as the internet is concerned for them. It is after all only politeness I can't leave them hang, like the politeness you all have shown me, that give a few minutes of time to read these words of delight].

And Job continued down the road of park benches to sleep from, guided only by the command of God to the places he demanded. Often reminding Job that it was he who asked for wisdom; knowing there was no argument. And so some days were long and others too fast, but everyone showing him more and more of the wisdom he did ask. And in the midst of astonishment again that voice to fear above all else spoke and said "Tell me something you do not like", and at that time Job said that easy, reading and writing. And the sound again boomed through his ears saying "I shall make you love it".

Now see, it wasn't that Job couldn't read or write, in fact he'd done more than a lion's share of it through life in part some of the very reason he saw the task with loathing. In fact many of those scheduling conflicts that did not align school days with friends were because it was decided his time should be spent in classes that demanded much more of it then others had. He always was plagued by the task of proper punctuation and the the various other rules about dangling things and participles of the past doing this or that; so much he could never get or care too. Whatever made great writers great seemed to be more lost in the rules to break up the beauty and magic the words and feelings could do for you if thoughts could just go where they wanted to, but he made it through sometimes because of the music and pieces of parts he's skimmed all his life.

And soon in those days of observing nature, wrapped in spring's bloom he thought harder and harder about what God had said. And the pieces and parts he'd collected all his year's alive, they began right before his eyes to speak truth. Making themselves more and more present in live events and actions happening right before him. Sure, he'd seen glimpses here and there in the past of the wisdom the ancients did speak, but nothing like what he was experiencing right then. And in the horror and pain of that awakening he accepted a peace that consoled the hurt of it all. And so with the breath of heaven showing him pieces of wisdom, the voices of demons and angels accompanied him. Like the one's he'd first heart so long ago, so many voices ushered forth make alone feel not so alone on those days that wisdom showed him just how empty time is.

[The doctor's may call this depression, but in truth it's learning to be by yourself; a quite healthy thing we are too trained to believe these days. In fact it was alone in the garden of Eden that Adam and Eve were before they they were them. God teaching us that they could not have been them without time alone and Him teaching to bring life to the world. And it is also why all young men are commanded to leave their homes in search of love. Not that the direction is straight to some woman or man, but the journey and experience that breath into young life just what a man should be and do, like Adam that first Valentine's Day with the dinner plate Eve had made].

As the pieces gathered around and new ones jumped into his thoughts he find himself revealed to truths he could not forget. SO profound and true they'd come to him, he started to write them down. The lesson being more important than the character's or development he'd he'd put what he could in as place holders. Forming as best a homeless veteran can small storyboards of thoughts to express those exposed truths. And just as Job began to gain a few great pieces, there was His voice again this time it made Job laugh at things, for that voice said to him "I took something you hate, made it into something you love. Now, give it away"! It was true, in those few works he'd started with he had come to cherish the meaning and significance of them as they only began to take shape.

He thought to himself, "Somehow, I knew this was coming next", but having gone this far and finding not once a lie in any of the words God has said - in fact confirmation in mankind's misunderstanding of them only further shown to be the veil of deceit under which the world did hide was more and more real. But, with humility he and humbleness he asked the skies "Who do I give them to?" And without hesitation came a response "Anyone you'd like, just find someone and give them away; and I'll show you something more".

[And so there is the plight of Job I will leave you all with. A stranger in a strange land, tasked by the One who commands us all through life to take the only things left he could claim as possession, his own; created by his hand after the devil stripped him of everything else, now having God tell him to give it away as well. And this may sound like a tragedy, but in fact it was the start of only another journey that only he could tell; intertwined still with pieces of this one and those the stars did shine to him over all those years. Let us then see where we will leave that young girl, who at last look had a heart that was in despair].

[luvpogl-music]

[And so know you devils of delight, let's take a long breath and tie this story up. Certainly not finish it by any means, but quite frankly I tire at the moment in keeping up with the notes of our history. But, no friend of nimble gnomes would I be if I left our boy and girl just dangling in mystery. So, we shall take some great leaps and jumps turning seconds to hours and hours to months to get a clean break from this exercise.]

As has been stated, I think the child Job has been stricken with a new adventure in life. It seems his later teen years he let his spirit more than his mind guide him, was it his choosing or destiny? I'm not sure one will ever really know, but let's see how God pulled the strings in those decisions he made to control the puppets of fate.

Job had entered the armed services after all of his friends had left for their schooling and bigger things, to be honest in part graduation snuck upon him still uncertain what everyone's rush to go away had been. He thought, we've only got to the part where we can all finally hang out like we used to brag about, but they reassured him life waits not for anyone. And so he embarked on mighty adventures listening, watching and learning from many empires. Fortunate was he even in this time that by the works of God he found unique offers of opportunity in the jobs the military sent him one; you see one can not become a true knight indeed, if one is not pushed into areas others are not.

But, unlike the constant thrill of action and delight, he found at times these details of his job left him with much time on his hands; silent and solitude his only friends for hours on hand. And in the quietude of these times he'd found himself stuck in the middle of life. You see all the pieces of books he would read and stories of the wise he's studied as a kid started to break through to his mind, giving him glimpses of another side. He would stand on holy ground, older then America or even Britain had seen, and under his feet the spirits of those tribes sometimes would speak. So loud sometimes they would shake his mind; he knew nothing but to swallow the power they would provide. As they talked he would listen and sometimes it seemed to be, that those mouths from the Bible they did speak.

That book that as kid seemed so funny in it's ways, well that night with his mom a special hold on him was placed. At times throughout life when no one could see, he'd thumb those ancient scripts just to see what they did mean? God would often prod him when walking by, "just a quick look see the secret My words have to hide". So compelling at times he had no choice, but to abide. And wise men he was fortunate to meet a few along the way with which he could discuss and show him the errors of his ways. It is through this repetition it was learned that there is nothing wrong with being wrong as long as you learn. Some of the greats along the way started to make him understand that with humble inquiry teachers were happy to help, a welcome delight from the days he's always known, for those times you were ridiculed and humiliated just for not knowing somethin'.

And so with the wise he learned to ask big questions of life, maybe one day his pieces would fit and help to contribute back to the things that were too important for most people to glean. After a few short years this adventure to though did pass; the pain of realizing that nothing, not even friends you'd give your life for were meant to last. He struggled with this time and time again, but the nail in that coffin would come closing down as he returned to that from which he came as all knights do when the tournaments are through. When he arrived he began to speak, only to once again be quieted; as much as the time was spent it was reinforced over and over again that a child who knew little of how the world works he still was. And so he would sit and listen and watch some more and coupled with that task was the realization that everything he'd known had past.

Friends and family too had all moved on to their journey's and destiny's leaving him to adjust a new mentality. Stuck in a spot, and not old enough for God to call yet, he wandered and floundered confused by the lack of camaraderie. Oh, he had friends and cherished family, but most of them were interested in them not him, and as he'd learn to become humble and kind he was more then happy to oblige. The days continued to pass and time went along, taking only moments alone to appreciate the journey he was coming through. Eventually he found as things went down himself back at school, for the moments God spoke to him were nothing but child's food, or so the wise around him kept ensuring him they knew more about life than anyone.

And through those years he learned much more sometimes encountering people and voices that sparked a light from the past. He'd catch a thought or two, by know he learned that's all those voices really are to be, just thoughts we think are to often too bold to be us; and he'd give them away again, he always knew that when they were his God would tell him. Figuring the ideas and information relayed was meant to be given on for someone else to make their way. He watched and he joyed as success came for those around him, and watched others wrap themselves in blankets of pity at hurt they were feeling.

The time went along and he became more in awe of looking back all the things he'd learned, seen and saw. With more experience he grew and as life makes that time when boys become young men he decided to no longer stay silent. Many around him began to wonder and question what was wrong with him he used to be so much more pleasant. They mistook pleasantries for him allowing them their ideas and ways, regardless of what he thought. So, he sat quiet, letting them speak their wrongs all the while they thought somehow he must agree with what they thought. He'd try to offer his thoughts from his understanding of lessons and life, but he was shown early on that people only want to fight or someone to agree with them. And a time or two he'd offer a suggestion or two that would bring a flaw in their thinking or plan, flaws he'd learned years before as wise men and women showed him them with his thoughts.

And so he soon stopped and life kept smooth again, until one fateful night the devil stepped in as God had instructed him. The child Job had obtained to some degree a level of success and status in his own adopted community, enjoying the comfort and company behind those white picket fences Noir had grown' up within. Only there he did see that snakes hide in the grass just like the trailers they'd call trash. And he watched as things changed all around him, as possessions and obsession became coveted trophies of triumph and victory. This was not all, but more than expected, and he'd call himself fortunate to meet several that cared not for what other's had gained, they had enough of their own to not worry about such petty things.

And so when the devil came into his household, not by drink or drug, for he is more cunning than that knowing most never learn that it is not what you put in your mouth that is wrong, but what you think to come out that turns into sin. Try has he might with all his patience and life, in the end the devil one that round and took everything away from him. Still baffled at the brilliance with which he had danced, discombobulated at how the people around him let that demon use them another blow was struck from the hand leaving him alone again, walking the land. Now in this moment most people would see an excuse to cry fowl at how unfair life is, but Job took a different approach as during that first battle he'd grown stronger and stronger knowing only God could protect him - [and besides, he had no one else as the devil claimed everyone he knew in round one.].

So, he dug deeper and deeper investigating every move, like true professional athletes do scouring the pages of the wisest he could find to understand just where he had gone wrong. More and more he learned and that much of what was spun had been done by people claiming homage to the crafty and cunning one. By no means did ever think he was perfect and laughed at the thought as attacks came from all sides to show him how proud he was. He often reflected on those night strolls with nothing but the heavens covering him, concrete for a bed "If they only understood?", but he kept quiet knowing that they did not want to hear truth, but rather confirm what their thoughts have been.

All along the way practicing and only listening to God. You see Job understood, that he had done everything people had been telling him to and gathered nice things, but that couldn't keep failure away. So he continued what he started in that very first fight, believing in his heart that the world had failed him, what worse could it be if God turned out not to be real at all. Continuing with that belief and practice those days in paradise were not nearly as bad as everyone would come to tell him.

It was one night early on, when no one was around, still one foot in and one foot out that he sat on a strangers couch after they'd gone on Christmas Eve, that God finally spoke in that tone again, a voice he'd only heard ever once before. "What are you looking for, or what do you want" it commanded in a thunderous voice. Now at this he let out a sigh of disbelief, after all how could you answer it? Fortunate was he all those days of the scrolls he'd read that just when he started to speak, he stopped himself. And so he paused in his thought and as he let out a breath of relief he through up the words Wisdom, when love is what he started to say.

With a BOOM in his voice The Lord did instantly reply "Smart choice, remember you asked for it". And with one final command Job was instructed at first, should he ever find the truth, to define for himself what God wisdom did serve. And he spent days in discern hemming and hawing, arguing mentality the fight from eight sides with nothing left and unsure of the answer, he threw out the best he could come up with for only the ears of Heaven. Job made a final statement firm in stance "Truth is God, so wisdom must serve truth and only from wisdom could love emerge". And in that tidy understanding he came to understand that had he stopped with love as his first thought, he would have stopped himself short of finding God, Himself.

[Let us pause for a moment to break this into two posts, so then we can have a finished Job. But while you wait, how 'bout a musical accompaniment]

[luvpogl-music]

[And so now let us gather livers of lies, for father Lucifer has called us back under the light of the morning star to discover just what today will might bring for the girl Noir (Noah's wife's apparent name if anyone cares about real lessons in some of the words we read) we left last night; just starting the enchantment of life having bigger and better things laid before her feet]

Let's us see, it seems that heart of her grew welling filled with love when she was young, and threw the teen years it got stronger and worse then it seemed to be for her friends. She couldn't understand all the boys in her school and neighborhood, they played faces of characters of which they never knew or understood, in some the acting attracted her senses of mystery and dreaming. They pulled cards from hands of people so obscured to teenage thoughts and claimed them as theirs that it often impressed her, enticing her in; believing all the more in God and the miracles of love, surprised at just how flourishing it was all around her.

But, when she'd rush in with wide eye surprise offering her requited thoughts; those boys do like all boys and turned into something worse then the images they portrayed to everyone else. Noir took the first few punches to her heart in stride and chalked it up to growing up, the troubles of a girl looking for her place in this world. In her room the voices of friends she heard started helping her and soon a box of notes filled higher and higher until one day a song of hers was carried into the ear of someone who schemed to make money from a girl with thoughts like hers, by a little bluebird that led him to her. This sparked into her mind some bigger things taking some love from her heart.

Absolutely! This is how it must work she thought, I wasn't made to be just a woman to some man; I would achieve a bit of my own status, attracting the men and then I can forget about these boys. And she used those feelings so strong and put out song after song. The money and fame rolling uncontrollably in, she was stirred up to new heights like the devil does when he wanted to hold Him high up for everyone to see the disgrace he'd become and laugh at His refusal to accept the gifts of man and this Earth in return for forsaking man. She shot high in starts like an arrow slung from the bows of ancient lore.

As the journey's began it was all so much fun and everything was new and interesting by now she knew God was sending her on the path to find that love she sung in. The love he promised her in her prayers when she was so young, the kind that bends with the wind, not those that die in cafe's and diner's at the end of one way streets. Telling herself, reassured by friends, just how perfect she had been, no other girl could be as true as she to God and the cries. Further and further isolating herself in the few "off" times. As the first few years went by that heart of hers that grew up pouring out love, it was getting empty and there wasn't left for her to write songs about.

Those exciting years went quickly by and set on her course she was told time after time by those voices, not to quit, success and answers to your prayers are just around the corner. Get back up, but by the third album the feeling was gone sending her deeper into "alone". Seeing the melancholy miss, some people got together and decided they had too much money vested in her to let her stop. And so she, started attacking the music like a game, succumbing to the formula of corporate streams. At first for her it felt a bit like cheating, someone so hungry to get the feelings out in her own words; but the success couldn't stop; God wouldn't want to see her fail. After all it was Him who sent her on the path, and she'd done so well by His words even giving more back then she thought some deserved.

And so she started mixing more and more things that had no emotional attachment to, but was shown as love. Seeming to fit in the story's she wanted to tell (this "formula" is part of the reason a lot of songs make no real sense, or are entirely out of place in the song or context). The success continued to grow, more and more the people roared but at the end of the day when she'd go home and sit down she realized more and more just how much more alone she was that what all the money and prized were supposed to bring.

Her solace only taken in the escapement of patients rooms at the Children's Hospitals and other children. Kids she knew didn't seem to care, especially the babies, they saw her as anyone else; relief from the world of fake her days had become. What God was telling her in those moments she couldn't hear or feel, the ruminations of the minds had robbed her dreams. The heart grew darker and darker inside, encouraged by the people who "knew" that the games and formulas they play with fan's is all right. It didn't matter since they "didn't know" or "never knew" except some of her closest friends, but like al Rumor's tasks, when more than one knows then everyone knows the gossip. The games meant more money, some friends of hers got luck and everyone was happy so it'd be all right, setting our young lady Noir right back to the music.

Life for everyone around her kept moving on into greater things, but every time she looked down at her feet only thinking "I am where I've always been only with feelings to far gone to ever live again". Instead of say to herself like a real magical girl "I'm right where I'm supposed to be". The hurt turned into anger and mockery of herself in someway hoping to be washed clean from filth that had coated her soul.

But, it didn't seem to change a thing she just started believing that this is just the way things are her business is vicious, the voices and magic her grandmother had told her about were just like the Holiday Hallmark Cards another Hollywood sales pitches to sell more things.

[And so we'll leave Noir resting with her empty heart and castles of sand, starting to see the world around her through the eyes of a young woman, but it leaves me to wonder if....

...she kept studying would have learned that even before Hollywood and Formulas were the Jews and that book has not one lie, just over 1000 pages of truth - never done in history before or sense. And would that have helped if not for just one more day. As for me mockers of love, failures of the new romantics class I must play for a bit until sleep - maybe tomorrow or the next we'll bring this story of just a boy from somewhere, anywhere USA and a girl driving a Maserati down a one way street, to an end; but remember stories of tragedy are in truth never ending].

[luvpogl-music]

[Let us see what the mind can conceive this rainy Nashville eve for those masters of madness that keep us awake during the quiet hours of sleep. Certainly Job has a a story three or four with truths hidden close to keep something fresh on this media of the mundane.]

It was in those early high school years the Job had worked to get his first steed. A quarter horse dressed in gold took him on adventures at his pleasure. And on those long rides under the day and night skies he's find himself in conversation with storytellers he'd meet along the way. As his days were still young he listened close to their tales of spirit enraptured by the care and caution they put into their creative lessons left for all of us. He found himself at times dining with a feast of friends of the highest kind. The threw words and concepts of higher thought into the mix that confuses most, listening and absorbing the words and the stories they spun with a mystical approach focused close to glean what he could from those teachers of love, pain, ourselves and truth.

Marking words in his mind to look them up when he could in hopes of better understanding of what they were trying to tell him. Through those practices of puzzle progression he was exposed to greater men and women of thought, ideas and concepts that transform not just the command of words one could use, but also brought with them a magic to transcend the soul. At times replaying the stories in his mind with new understanding that gave these lessons new meanings and new understandings then those that were introduced when initially spoken to him.

While the concepts of words on the pages he read melded with the medley the poets would sing. A world of possibilities opened up to him, all fostered from a young age in large part because of the care and love the hand of his mother had shown him through all those times she forced him to "tell her what it means" when he didn't understand something he'd read or seen. The discussion she'd pull him aside and offer in private, ones he didn't like but always made him think. Little lessons that often seemed to leave out the other ear, but were stuck deeper than known. That's another benefit of mom's not being able to catch cooties, if you listen and think through the touch of a mother's love, even in your anger you find, some sooner, some later, in life that they are probably one of the wisest people that will ever guide your path.

And during these short years of a boys life, adventuring and living were the focus of Job's life. He was determined to find the answers that kept him in wonder from the time of a child. The times he was younger and had trouble sitting still and it was demanded of him at the cost of physical punishment (not abuse, punishment), like when his mom had pulled out the Family Bible with pages gilded with gold; taken from a box it seemed to command reverence. And while everyone gathered around the table with excitement and surprise, he struggled to understand if it was a book, why was kept in secret instead of out so everyone could read it? After mom had thumbed through to find the photos and baby information she had been looking for, she offered those things to the other kids as they ran off to play. In the safety of the silence he opened his mouth and asked her "what makes this book more important than the rest?". And she smiled and said, "well, it contains everything man knows about life, from the beginning until now".

Flabbergasted by this answer for a boy of not much more than eight or seven he just knew it should have been bigger if that were true. But, when he mentioned it to her, she just laughed and said, "yep, you'd think it would, but it doesn't need to be". Fumbling through the pages and not a child to shy from a challenge Job stopped on a few pages in the book and tried to read them with all the words and skills he'd learned in school, and although it made no sense what he said, he read the few passages pretty good for a kid he thought. But, King James spoke a different language in the 1500's and a lot of the words he used sounded funny and it was clear they talked funny back then, not like the smart kids of today do. And with a smile, mom decided it was time to put the book back, but not before the mystical burning of the spirits of the past placed in his heart. Like his mom told him when he couldn't understand them or other things she would just say "when you are older you will (happy Mother's Day ALL). A statement that he always hated, after all he was already ten how much older did one need to be, as school had taught him the things of this world.

Like most kids in public school today Job got most of his education of the world outside the walls of the safety of home. As with the parents of today, who can't talk to their kids admonishing their thoughts or ridiculing their beliefs guiding their principles, after all kids are seen more as the chance to make a "better them" then become unique adults of their own (another gift of the Jews, given to parents before even the Bible was writ).

And kids find UN-fun nature all too boring of their responsible responses, so at some both sides decide it's best not to talk of private matters. Even more true is this should you have brothers and sisters, aside from not hearing what you want from your parents, it is certain you will have to listen to the ridicule of them, who will certainly call on the fleetest of footed servants of Zeus, we call Rumor today. Carrying these things to extended family and friends and eventually back to school.

Respect for people long having left the lessons of home, no matter how hard mom may have tried., Rumor has left the fund of her damage as something more fun to play then wisdom and truth could bring with them. So most the world is taught on the playground or with friends at sleep overs and such reinforcing to kids when they hear some of the things that are heard; certainly parents don't know anything about life, because they never did or talked about that. The televisions shows and movies only confirming that the kids at school or more right then their parents about life.

But, while everyone kept pointing back and forth at whose fault is whose Job learned young that sometimes its better to sit above the chaos than make yourself a part of it, the storytellers he'd meet offered that, to some extent even giving more pieces of the puzzles he needed in figuring out the bigger pictures of life that still plagued him as a child - like looking up at the cross and seeing an innocent man hang when his eyes were supposed to be hung in prayer, wondering if this is really what Jesus wants from us?

With all these personal issues to resolve it's easy to understand why during those graduation days as all his friends he say go off to college or move on to the bigger things they had been waiting for the exciting day when Seniors unofficially officially become adults. Sur, those around him pushed and encouraged, even making some attempts, but all that time in school, when the results came back his marks confirmed what everyone did expect, his slowness and lack of intelligence was confirmed, he'd be luck to pick up trash. And soon the universities around him sent letters declaring the same seats needed to be saved for those blessed to succeed, he should find something else they said. Tucking them under his bed he just kept on adventuring and exploring the things around him.

And some months after graduation when the fight and fuss of futures died down, Job took a trip in the middle of the day, one he'd never come back from. An exploration that would take him around the world, introduce him to people and places filled with members of the other twelve tribe that those two at the begging of time grew to become. He saw things some should never have to, things that some should never miss, experienced feelings that most will never comprehend, and feelings that everyone should, always remembering it to be just a sampling of what others had been through. Time and travels increasing the voices etched on that tape recorder of life were all born with, only the needle on his seemed to play a direct line to the heart; expressions men and women learn how not to feel.

[And so I believe we shall leave Job with this long winded post tonight, traveling down the road of life. Gathering more pieces to the puzzle of life. Only beginning the solo journey of just how alone everyone is and discovering how much more pain there is in truth than in lies. All the while his heart going filling more and more with love, pushing out the pride of youth that makes us invincible when where young]

[luvpogl-music]

[And so what kind of beast would I be little minstrels of truth, to leave you plagued with Jobs worries, neglecting that little girl Noir and the dreams she was starting to sing, believing in her heart that they could come true.]

Now, what little girls are never told and mom's can't speak of because they don't carry the disease of cooties; is that with the misaligned genes comes emotions so strong and confusing it hard to control and keep it her secret. Accepted by society as just an understanding that because their girls their expected to over emotional and foolishly led down stray paths.

It also happens to be that because of the disease some girls are stricken with they age faster than boys, not in Earth years, but in God's time they grow and mature at faster rates. This confuses doctors and scientists of the Earth, as they study to figure out why the life span of women is a few years behind men. It's not they they die young, but that God commands that they return early for their age is advanced [And this my friends agrees with the Chinese philosophy as well in their assignment of numbers and whether they be "he" or "she", "yin" and "Yang" if you will].

That little girl we've only just met during her adolescence began experiencing strange occurrences only she seemed to see. Uncontrollably she wrote down all that her mind spoke about how her heart felt. Surrounded by the protection of white picket fences and all the advantages that financial esteem bring upon a family in any community she stayed protected from the evil that lurks through the papers and television screens, or was she? God has a funny way of using the devil to work his messages. Raised in reality covered by privilege she saw those dreams she thought began to work their magic inside of her.

Oh yes, she too was blessed with adventures like Job sought. For her over land though did not her spirits rise, but rather from heart the home of Aphrodite, the sea. Her father in secret from birth raged wild in spirit too and when she was a bit bigger he revealed to her a secret vessel crafted by the hands of Neptune himself. And as they made their way to the waters edge she was amazed by seahorses that came bubbling up from that watery ground. "Your chariot awaits, my lady" he said while lifting her in and at the command of his hand, the sea horse sped the chariot off. Unable to control the smile that came across her lips, she closed her eyes and let herself fly with the wind as they skipped across the waters top.

Noir found a world she'd never knew existed that day, a magical world she beheld as she stood with the sand in her toes and wave lapping at her knees. Exploring the creatures and things that inhabited that world no one else knew was there. Adventures that were far to few, but more than enough for her to learn to breath instead of drown when the waters are high all around.

As the Earth continued in its spin, so to did the adventures he's take her one, but none, none like the sea running its hands through her hair. The things this little girl experienced made school not as easy as it was for the other kids. But she found ways to fit in with cliques that she never really felt she belonged. It was necessary as the experts and society teaches us, a child who seeks to grow within themselves is anti-social and bad for society; the kind of thing that breeds killers and psychopaths.

No on one wanting that fate to become theirs, she found camaraderie among the security of those who hide from life in the activities designed to encourage the subjects of art. Believing most of them too, were just like her. She struggled in silence there too wondering why she couldn't figure out, how it was so much easier for everyone else. And because it's something that can never be fully explained she had no one to show her the difference between developing magical talent and mimicked motions most are eager to accept. For them music is red, it flows from without to within, which some copy and act, but for a few like her it is blue, it flows from within out to the world.

Over time she would witness their ability to be just as the others they clambered in protection from at school. Cliques that didn't look or act as they thought "special" enough targeted by ignorance. She too would succumb to engaging in prideful claims and snide remarks assuring dominance of one group over another. Encouraged only by the reassurance of friends she would never let them see how she wrestled with the pains of sickness that make a stomach twist when God is telling them its done something wrong. Most are never taught that this is the spirit of God trying to correct them, by this age of understanding most people have come to accept that they are in fact just animals, nothing sets them apart; and God is like Santa Clause, a story to enjoy but nothing to act upon, except Sundays when everyone else is watching them in church.

And the school years turned into high school years, the daydreams of heroes and knights swiftly pulling her mind from the dull drums of class; looking, studying and comparing the guys in class. Wondering which one of them understood and could see. And as body caught up with her age, there were some that glanced back on occasion her thought wondering if maybe it was them. And on occasion she found herself in their company for a short time only to realize that no shining armor did they wear, far from it in fact which only further attacked at her spirit.

Soon all the joy and pain she had felt poured out of her chest and with those pieces of notes she gained the attention of those designed to exploit. Actions which reignited her belief in the magic and reassured her that in fact God was working when she couldn't feel it. And the whirlwind of life wisp her away landing her on the biggest stages to be seen. Where she could play those feelings out, and her mind so pure and beautiful thought to herself "with so much of crowd, certainly that knight was out there listening" he would hear her and find his way back from being lost. Who says it can't bring you love she thought to herself. But as often the way God works, it's his time not ours that miracles work. But, being so young and trying to force the forces that we can not as all kids do regardless of status and statue she started to get discouraged and let her mind begin to accept the thoughts those around her wanted to impress. Her strength was starting to wane, unable to tap from the reservoir of life, her heart suffocating from all the bricks they had thrown.

[And so for now the morning that was night has now slipped into after noon and this is where we shall leave Noir set. Wrestling and battling to figure out, if all of this had been God, why wasn't he answering her heart? And soon again we shall return to pick up the story of this girl and that boy, both in the prime of youth, society calls young adults; but in the time of the Jew, it is well understood that only know are they starting to escape childhood - for time is all we have, but time is by design a tool from the hand that he who wields a pitchfork inflicted upon man]

[luvpogl-music]

[Well Minions of mayhem, let us turn day into night and continue to stitch this patchwork of words, picking up once again where we left off last eve. I believe the young boy Job had just heard the secret of the wind from grandfather and the special things it blows in.]

And one bright summer day around second grade he sat staring at out the window from the back of the class. The sun was shining so high in the sky, he could only imagine all things he could do if only he wasn't confined to that classroom. In those days there was no conditioned air for the classrooms, only a few windows that partially opened meant more to unsettle the air then usher in the cool freedom of the wind. His continued to imagine all the worlds that needed to be explored and lands he could conquer if only that bell would ring to open the gates of prison.

That last day of the school year seemed longer than most, broken up by the games the teacher had planned. Dazzled by the brilliance of the suns rays as they broke the window sash, a mysterious dark figured broke his trance. A shadow moved within his range of vision just as the wind gust through the crack in that window, feeling it rush against the pieces of hair that overlapped his ears. It was in that moment the sun grabbed hold of her hair, it turns out that shadowy figure was a girl. His eyes were astonished by the figure before him, sure he'd seen girls before his mom and sisters were girls and there were ones his age all over the place in school, but they never looked like this one before just as the wind made a final roar.

Mesmerized by the glow radiating from the strands of blond hair in the dance it was making with the sun. His thoughts forgot all about the lands to be won, he'd found something more captivating than even capturing a triceratops. Those seconds that dress themselves in the drapes of hours made time stand still for what his mind thought felt like an eternity. An alarm began to ring inside of his mind bringing him back from stray thoughts. Glancing quickly across the room he was nervously anxious to to see if anyone had noticed his lack of attention wasn't on them.

More important than ignoring the teacher in class, he had to find out if any of his friends had noticed him staring at the figure of a girl who by now was surrounded by friends. Certainly it would be the death of him if they knew; sympathy for the enemy was something that just could not stand among young men. He'd be stricken from society for ever had they caught him involved with a crime as serious as this; forever burned by the mark so all would see his sympathy for the devil.

One thing was certain, wisdom all boys that age are just born with is the commandment from heaven, that girls are icky. Aliens from a universe sent to destroy the world with cooties. A disease that's so bad and can end any boys chances of ever having fun again. It even causes some to be bed ridden the rest of their life, but this was rare and extreme as it could only be that bad if it was caught by the worst possible way; everyone knew it's what happens if a girl kisses you on the cheek.

Even worse was that sisters too were contagious, which meant not even home was safe. Sugar and spice was just something big people told you to hide the hideousness of it, no one could understand just how dangerous a boys life really was. Just then a loud ring startled the class and a friend was grabbing his shoulder so they could run out to the bus. The last day of school was in fact the first day of summer, and no homework or next day morning rush meant more hours of adventure under a sun that kept its eyes open longer than on winter nights.

As time lingered on and the boy aged from infancy into adolescence he often grew bored and overly anxious too quick. In school classrooms he tried to be smart, but he was often riddled with laugh. Teachers time and time again explaining to him that he just didn't get, his questions made no sense. He needed to apply himself more so one day he could be important and leaving his seat to disturb others just couldn't be tolerated, he was a bother. Most of the things he just ignored, he came to accept that they didn't understand him and that was all right because he didn't understand most of them.

At home often he found himself bored even with a room full of toys, fun for a while, he knew they were just plastic; nothing real or of substance as the journeys he and grandfather wandered. It was becoming more clear to other family members that Job was not going to be super intelligent in the traditional sense nor did he have imagination and talent their genius demonstrated. At times causing divisions that he was happy to accept, after all when he looked back at them, he noticed no life in their living at all; enthralled more with gossip and false visions, Job discerned that must be the curse they cried as result of their gift.

This boy was more fortunate than most, as his mother too was a Jew with skills that could reach heaven. Like all mother's know, regardless of what kids think or believe, by nature one child they can not love more. And in those times when friends could not play and there seemed nothing to do, it's in those times his short talks with mom gave him instruction and guidance far beyond ken. At first he never understood why she always mad him work, while the other children seemed to enjoy some type of relief from simple t. hings like looking words up. Adding to the derision was his constant lack attention, never finishing the books they made him start; he could not understand why all those pages only to reach the end of someone else's story, the boredom taught him some tricks to help him cover up his school work.

Now these two extremes made Jobs brain even more confused so often he sat quiet away from the chaos as he grew. His lack of effort in school put him in classes outside the norm, never getting schedules that synced up with friends. In the spare time between he was always in the library, often skipping lunch just to skip through thoughts that others wrote. And it was in those moments he could hear voices disguised as reflections.

When classes were done he often thought about what adventure grandfather would have next when and if they ever came to visit. In those moments too he was always given unspoken rules. Never excluded he did watch favoritism rule as often can be witnessed behind the actions of made of faces and plastic events. Always stepping in at just the right moment, mother, grandfather or grandmother to relieve the pressures of fake moments. Teaching him too to accept a view of things he could not understand.

Then one day in the early teen days he received a gift that would alter life more drastic. See music had always been in the family, but since he couldn't understand or read the technicalities he was dismissed as something for him. So often he was left without the privilege of sharing in the noise that came from those records as his brother and sisters huddled together to listen. But, this made it all different he was given an old broken box that played radio and had a slot for tapes if he ever got. And when he plugged it in to listen in his room, everyone jumped in telling him he needed to hear this or that, songs he did not get. But, when they weren't around, he fumbled the dials up and down until something came through that seemed to speak to him.

When it first happened he was startled by the magic, but knew he had to keep silent or straight jacket crazy they would have rushed him off. It was amusing to hear people speak with a sound that seemed to reach in and grab him by the heart. Just like the words in the books of thoughts he skimmed those words wrapping in his head as they jumped of the page; now their were sounds and voice that pulled him in the same. The days and time went by as they do, lost in the voices that words and notes carry with them; it was something that can only be experienced and never understood, how those words turned into living things either by writing or hearing them sing.

Soon in his quest a new freedom with which he was blessed, given a license to drive he worked to by his own first chariot. He knew this would once again give him the freedom to add new adventures on his list, ones to share with grandfather whenever they got the chance. And so with high school days at hand half his time was spent doing things with friends that all kids do, sometimes things that kids shouldn't do, but do too. Trips that took him down places and meeting faces of all different sorts, some even covered with a nefarious mask.

[And so for this night that has become day, we shall leave Job in this state. Here a young man riding the wind of white horses and chariots, navigating the world around him navigating situations and experiences all of life's happenings some good, but many what most people call bad. Outward appearances casting him hands with the devil, realizing that gold is not all that glitters].

[luvpogl-music]

Now it would be rude of me to leave these beautiful minions on the edge of their seat wondering what happened to that boy child baptized by fire last night. After all who only want to dream about a magical girl? Well, maybe that boy, but lets see how he is progressing as he walks the eras or ages of youth.

As the warm summer night came to a close in smalltown, nowhere USA the sound of bluebirds singing pierced the windows of the house as the aroma of sausage and eggs filled the coolness of the conditioned air at grandma and grandpa's house. One son arrived in mom's arms, the youngest who'd been crying the night before. Unwilling to sleep she took him to bed with them so she could get some sleep, while the other boy sat gazing in space, the mark of Cain draped over him. The boys this day would be given names, as that was the first order to discuss at the breakfast table.

It was decided with pleasure and happiness by all that the youngest child wrapped in moms arms would be called Jacob and for the boy held long above the flames, he was blessed and called Job while he lay in his father's arms; Job a derivative of Jubal that has long been lost in the traditions of the Hebrew, lost to the hands that scattered them to the four winds. With the coronation of them complete the family packed their things and left for their home that rested at the end of a dead end street they lived.

For most of the early years the boys were displayed like proud treasures by their sisters and parents to their friends, but soon as the began to walk life grabbed each by the hand and walked them down different paths as was God's plan for the both of them. Now their grandfather who was closer to God then anyone would know or admit, his father Leo from the tribe of high priests that claim Jesus as their direct teacher in all things holy of which today none no longer exist with the passing of him, but as the legend as always held true from the beginning of time, it does not mean that once again one will never rise.

The grandfather for his part did never discuss with any of the children or grandchildren the secrets or mysteries of heaven; he knew as he had been shown and taught that for it to be honestly from the Hand of Heaven it must be left to be found by chance from those that were blessed. After all God calls all of His children as He sees fit, not as parents want done. And he also was aware that among the family rumors and jealousy began to stir at the thought of great riches bestowed on them for doing nothing, but claim something that belonged to no one and really wasn't theirs.

[I have expanded this part a bit, but for here I will leave it an empty piece, to be filled at his desire should His plan grant it. For the things I post to @tumblr and other social media are meant to be read and shared, hoping to inspire derivatives for those who understand. Aware that some will bite and take with no regards to the skill or ability it really takes; this blank leaves in part a trap to bare witness off their sins].

On occasion the children would visit the grandparent that lived so far away, one eager to go on adventures and explore the world and grandfather was more than happy to accommodate the youthful vigor as he always had done. Hikes across the country and waterway adventures that only Mark Twain could speak of and make Lewis & Clark jealous. And in all those experiences with him, the boy Job only ever saw him stand silent, resting on his staff as the winds of the skies seemed to talk to him and take him somewhere far beyond.

The other child, Jacob although he would venture away now and again with the other kids on those trips, he like so many others were more enraptured by the comfort of four walls and sought comfort in the home, spending his days trying to discover and learn the secrets of dreams he'd never seen. His mother and father in some way coaching and encouraging his success as did some of the parents of cousins all hoping to receive the wages of gold for the blessing they felt was deserved. Given words and tasks to flaunt in front of grandma and grandpa seeking recognition of their holiness. And with love and kindness each were applauded and appreciated with their attempts and some even received professional accolades for the works of their attempts.

Job however seemed little interested in the pomp and circumstance that seemed to be displayed and flaunted; often reassured by the others that it was simply because he could not understand, he was after all, slower than the rest. Not blessed with or plagued by genius of any form, but it would be OK; they often stated empty consoles jabbed to attack his spirit and the pride he took in just living and being a kid. Letting him know in fact that he should feel lucky to not have been cursed with the struggles and talents such gifts they self-proclaimed to the world.

Instead Job spent some time chasing the wind that seemed to take his grandfather away when they hiked, even asking one time where it was that he went when he was lost with his chin on his staff. On one of those magical journeys through the woods of life, Job approached his grandfather and asked where he went as he stood there, his chin resting on his staff. His grandfather looked down surprised and seeing the others far off, just smiled and said "do you feel that son?" "Feel what?" Job asked. He smiled and said they call it the breeze, do you feel it across your cheeks, Job said "yeah"; his grandfather said "just remember when ever you're alone and feel that wind across your cheeks, that's God sending you the kiss of a pretty girl". "Like grandma? Job laughed, and so did grandfather did too. He said "yes, just like grandma" now what do you say we finish this hike and get back home to them. Not wanting to go, he accepted that journey was done as grandfather called the other kids to make their way back.

It was the miracle of lessons like that that kept Job silent and wrapped in the words of ancients as he grew, the voices of their spirits pouring through his heart and soul. Knowing just how different the words would start to impact him, when they started to speak it drove him further and further into the stacks, never attention to read all, but finding the owners of voices that came, teaching him to find his own. Always quiet, an emptiness inside him he realized those around him would not feel.

Understanding the things that he thought were not apparently correct as so many of the friends and children he played with attacked these very things and he watched as his brother was poked, prodded and subjected at request by specialist and doctor's who sought to explain what was wrong with him. And soon the boys too would enter the days of second, third and fourth grade and it was in those first few classrooms that Job would experience a feeling so deep for nothing he'd known or felt, but would hurt when she left.

[So I've stricken from this record statements that found a place before their time and to continue would jumble the thoughts of some screaming nonsense; forgetting, this is just a scratchpad, words typed on a whim to record memories to be shared by the wind. Let us then leave the two brothers there for now this night and see what tomorrow brings. I imagine that while we find a bit more about this girl and this boy and the two paths they take, on left and one right as it was called before given the words east and west in this world. Rest easy minions, I'm sure if magic is at work, the comfort and peace of these beautiful scenes will not last, after all how will you know you are blessed unless you experience true tragedies on your walk?]

[luvpogl-music]

And so now where were we my, midnight minions, in the words of this magical mystery tour we began last night about one special girl and one special boy that blessed the world for all of us. Oh, yes I believe dangling ankles had just been put back to rest and since last night the boys went first, let us continue tonight with rule number one any gentlemen should learn; so ladies first tonight and we will see whats going on with the magic that newborn girl was given to hold on too.

It was not long after grandmother had fell back to rest with a gentle rocking to keep the peace of her soul in line with time when that baby girl broke the morning with laughs and goo's. So excited with the morning that little girl got too loud for grandma to longer ignore. Whisping the child into her arms wrapped in swaddling cloths they rushed to the table for girl talk and breakfast. Finishing the conversations from the night before, soon mother and father arrived to claim the newborn prize.

Through the night the parents had discussed it in depth just what to call this newborn gift they had been given (NO, it's not @taylorswift if anyone reads this) they named the child Noira as was the claim her grandmother laid upon her head the night before. Little Noira was quite a child to contend with blessed with many gifts including one of charm that could not be resisted.

As this little girl grew to a young child her parents began to notice odd things in her progression. Now to most parents this would have been cause for concern, but not for them they gave her the support and strength to accept it; even when the days came that it was clear she was nothing like the other kids. She played with spiders in her hair and kept imaginary friends in the basket of her bicycles long past the age that is acceptable by doctor's standards. At such a young age she never cared or understood what all the fuss was about; but her parents kept close watch protecting her close from the world most children are exposed too.

For many blessed with this condition they would have grown spoiled and rotten, but for her it just made her heart grow bigger and bigger welling up with excitement and surprise; never giving up just how magical the world was even when no one else could see it. And Noir soon grew into adolescence, that age when kids start to change from purity of their youth and allow themselves to accept the pressures and ridicules of friends. On occasions she would find herself back visiting with grandma who helped her through the times she couldn't understand it or started to regret it.

It was established early on between granddaughter and grandmother that this secret was never to be spoke of in detail, even with mom and dad. It was a girls secret passed down from Eve that only the two of them could ever know, in part to keep it special and in part because it was well known among the two tribes that became twelve the power this gift held, setting among them the evil seed of deception and pride trying to steal it from those blessed by it.

When she did not have grandma to talk to her about it, there were only her invisible friends to help reason it out, after all grandma said they were all right as long as she learned to keep them secret as she got older or their would certainly be trouble for her and everyone that could not understand a connection so close to a world that didn't exist, one that no one else could see, save the sons and daughters held in the bosom Abraham.

Just before her teen years began strange things began to happen to Noir, things that were often just excused as the changes a girl goes through as she gets older, but Noir knew this was different then any of her friends at school would speak of and often she found herself putting on the face of laughter and agreement with them to placate there senses, but inside she only sunk deeper into her spirits making her feel odd and alone in this crowded world of so many.

When these feeling began to take over, she started writing words and poems to help express the thoughts she could tell no one else about; she could always offer them to heaven, stuck in a box under her bed she'd kept them hoping one day those prayers would come true. And with little guidance to guide her journey through it, as is way for any true Hebrew child.

As time went on and the voices of her soul got louder and louder she began to dream big things and convinced herself this gift of magic of hers was meant to take her on a journey through the stars as she had learned that some of them. especially the founders of places like Hollywood, knew well of the gift with which no one ever spoke, it was just understood.

She began to harness the voices of those spirits she could hear and mark their words into poems, the strongest ones were those she could relate so close to in their feelings. It was not just radio or televisions that ushered them in, she sometimes became so enthralled with the words of a book or story that more than once she fell of her seat while reading them. As if the symbols on the page wrapped her in a blanket pulling her into the scene.

Using the talent and putting in much hard work trying to develop the skill and practice it took, it was not long before she found herself cast into the lion's den of life, believing that those around her too understood just where all those gifts of music she made came from, not realizing that most of them had no clue, they just sought to exploit it for there dreams of gold and chains at her expense. And although it hurt from a distance as every grown member of a tribe knows, she had to learn it for herself.

What she never knew and no one told her before that some of those things she wrote and sang weren't meant for her to take, they were someone else's breath from God above, but as a child even He couldn't fault a child acting through the courage of innocence.

[So, that's where we will leave this little girl Noir tonight, wrapped in the cocoon of her dreams, no where near ready to become a butterfly yet. Knocking on the door of a trouble all teenagers must walk through, and some never return, learning that more people are built in this world to hurt rather than love and comforted still by the fact that a knight donned in blue and gold would rush in one day and take her away from the madness that had begun]

[luvpogl-music]

And although the numbers on a calendar make seem so long, for the things we are speaking of tonight the shape of the night stars had not hardly changed even once. And in another part of small town, nowhere USA a mother rushed to the hospital by her beau anxious and excited to bring their first into this world early on a sunny fall like winters day. Anxious with anticipation the young couple eagerly arrived at the hospital waiting for the arrival of that newborn child.

Enthusiasm overtook the air of the room as there was nothing they could do but wait, the mother at one point ordering her husband to make the doctor just pull it out. As sweet and innocent as we all believe girls to be; this child brought with it a fight; refusing to leave the womb she had made home for the last nine months. Finally thought after hours of back and forth into the world was born a beautiful and healthy baby girl to trouble their world.

Overjoyed by the presence of new life, not long after she was born a proud grandmother offered to keep her a night that the young couple could get some sleep; for this little girl did not want to spend much of her time in her crib, only mother's and father's arms seemed to comfort her making the days and nights bleed together with little to no sleep. One Saturday afternoon just before Christmas had come the couple eager for some time alone, rushed that little girl to grandmothers house before breakfast was done. Excited by the chance they did not stay long as they did not want the offer to be taken from them before they got out of the driveway.

But, something was different with the little girl in her grandmother's presence. The baby girl wanted to move around and explore as much as a child that young can, trying to kick her legs with smiles and laughs as grandma sat and gazed. They sat and talked the entire afternoon, not as babies, but as adults do although the little girl could only make coos; the wise grandmother had much knowledge to impart on her that day; the feeling of time starting to slip from her.

The dark of night came far too son as is the case during the months of moon and after dinner they shared the joys of a snowfall under a crisp star accompanied moon. More tired then the young girl, grandma got her to agree to lay down and soon after slumber she fell into with a peace she had not know since she came into this cold world comforted partly by the warm glow of Christmas Tree lights by her crib. After making sure the child was well tucked in and warm, she too made off for bed too as the fireplace gave off the last of its ember glow both baby and grandmother drifted into a slumber they hadn't felt.

The snow and wind turned to blizzard conditions that night and as the fire had gone out, the chill in the room caused the elder women to stir about in her sleep. She forced herself out from the blankets to check on the child and turn up the heat as the thermostat had dropped another few degrees. Standing by the child's bed as the nostrils of dragons filled the air with warmth from the fire they burned in the basement below, the magic matron picked up the babe and walked to the window in the room where the drapes still hung rent in twain from earlier in the day.

While the wind blew heavier and the snow covered the stars and moon, the grandmother began to sing an ancient chant to the young girl that the world has long forgot, although some think they know, at the beginning it was established that each clan keep their own secrets from thieves. Approaching the window, the grandmother threw open the latches and the snow and wind began to drive their way in. With the first gush of air taking her breath the little old lady grew twice as tall as she'd ever been seen to be and her form conformed to that of a witch. Not the pretty ones or even evil one's like in Disney movies kids, something much, much worse then you can imagine as cold ran through her veins.

The little girl not once cried or showed a bit of fear even as fire roared in the distant hills that surrounded that tiny house they were in. Staring up in her eyes with the stare of excitement and surprise the witch grabbed the child by her ankle and held her high into the storm while beginning to chant in that ancient tongue again saying things that seemed to make the weather fight back with rage more and more. Watching to see tears or find screams from the little girls lungs, she seemed pleased there were none and as the snow turned to ice and began to pelt at their skin she pulled the child back into her and grinned. Yes, it is you that shall be blessed; making sure the magic will not die with me.

Pulling the girl into her bosom she continued in a whisper directed to the child's ear saying nothing but this.

"The blood of Eve runs through your veins deep and that is the mark that shall set you apart from everybody else. Only one can carry that magic through the world, and with you it shall rest when I can no longer bare its cross. From the tribe of Seth your name is claimed as it was Eve's blessing that watched over them, her youngest son, keeping them untouched by the sin of blood that covered the Earth. Now rest my child, this is your burden to bare; your cross whether you choose it or not; of this we will never speak as all but one have been born to steal it. This young lady is the gift of the Jews, passed on to you".

And as she put the you baby girl back in her crib all snuggled in she saw the little girl grin as her form changed back into her grandmother again. Smiling and giving a child a kiss goodnight, she warned as she walked out the door, be careful though little one, with great magic comes great struggle and battles. Now rest easy young one as the hand of God watches over your life.

With that the grandmother slipped back to her rocking chair and fell back into sleep as though nothing had happened. The little soon too fell asleep under the trance of Christmas tree lights sleeping well through the night.

[Well, we have more to the story of these two kids, a somewhere boy and a somewhere girl; for they have yet to even speak, but for now let's just leave them with this peace and I don't know about you, but I plan to investigate this Bible tribe thing as I've never heard it before, but I do know if my grandfather said it, it must be true].

[luvpogl-music]

[I read part of a story just recently where one of the characters offered the claim that all children dream of their birth, and if you want to know something of them just ask them about their birth. Although I thrown crafted words at the imagery before, it was meant more as words to just carry the story to more important things, nothing creative or substantial. Words meant to impress on the mind equal no scare meant with intent. I thought this an interesting position though as I had never really thought about a story behind it before; so then on my walk today, I began to find a thread that would add a seam to others I have already stitched and sewed. All pieces in a quilt meant for someone else; that is one of the mysteries of God, He'll take what you hate, turn it into love, then tell you to give it away, just so he can see how faithful you'll believe I think. Let's see how this looks now, and although it's not the story of my birth, it is a story about a boy and a girl that helps fill in some of the missing pieces.]

In this minstrel of life, lets start at the beginning and tell this story, about a boy child and girl child and just how they become…

...on a dark stormy night, the thunder pounding louder than normal in small town, anywhere USA a lady born of fire went into labor. Familiar with the pangs of birth something inside her trembled; something was wrong, this was just different. Rushed to the hospital there were some complications during birth, but what could be expected when their were born twins when there should have only been one. The doctor being highly skilled with his hands though made sure that no life was lost that night and not long after mom and dad returned home with both boys in hand.

Excited by the news the family couldn't wait to see the new additions to the family, and not long after returning to a shack in the middle of nowhere at the end of run down street; the family packed up and rushed of with all the kids kids to visit newly christened aunts, uncles and grandparents. Settling into the new mother's childhood home, kids resting in sleep as all babies do when their not eating or being changed, mother and father sat down for a well deserved visit with her family from the past. The days slipped by through the week they spent and before it, a few card games later the night before they left had finally come. As the afternoon slipped into the dark of night under the chirp of cicadas they all made their way to bed.

Something stirred in the house that night, a spirit that had never been present before slipped in under the door at the command of one who lived there; knowing the time had come. As the entire house sat silent in the dead of night feeling almost like Christmas Eve on that hot summer night; the grandfather awoke, quietly slipping out of bed and into the room where both boys slept. Standing atop their cribs he stirred back and forth, lost in the miracle of life when his soul began to cry. Both children lay silent staring up at him as he ran the aged fingers down the crowns of their heads. Everything was at peace, but the gift they had yet to receive. He took hold of both boys in each arm; their premature size making it easier to accommodate both boys at once.

And as they lay cooing in his arms, the smile only a grandfather can give came across his lips and with a bit of a twist took form of a most hideous beat. Fire threw itself against the curtains and that little man took a form twice the size of his with the ugliest features only a troll could equal in looks. As the flames in the room grew higher and higher, stoked greater by the force of his brother; one child lay quiet still looking up at him and the other began to stir and get restless. Just then the floor opened up below them nothing but a a pit of raging flames chomped at their feet. The old man grabbed each by their ankle and held them dangling above the flames. Chanting words in a language the world and their experts had long forgot, he held them there as the blaze reached its arms higher and higher approving the sacrifice being offered before them.

Before the old man could finish, the child in his right hand began to scream and cry and the beast quickly tossed him aside. Looking back at the boy still watching in his left with a bit of curiosity, he paused and ran the nail of his finger across his chin and claimed "It is you that shall bear the mark. You are the one that shall die tonight". With a stab of the walking stick he held in his hand the floor shut up at his one word command. The room fell silent again, nothing but the sound of rain and wind pounding at the windows outside in chorus of the other child still crying.

He pulled the boy up from his left foot and as he did this was once again transformed into the little grey bearded man who was their proud grandpa. He held the child close to his chest and whispered softly these words in that ancient tongue:

"In the beginning there were two tribes, male and female under God's love they were. Of those two were born three, one named Abel who died young to become the father and guardian of all children that die young". He continued "from the tribe of Adam though is your line, of which there is ever only one; within you alone runs the blood of the first and the last, marking your holy and sacred past. With this kiss, you shall forever bear the mark of Cain, it is your cross to bear; once I am gone. Forever cursed to walk this Earth. Cast aside from family and friends forever seeking that which was lost in the Eden. This my son is the blessing of the Jew; and may it now be passed on to you".

Hearing mother's footsteps tumbling up the stairs to answer the cries of the child that was still in tears, he placed them both back in their sheets and silently clambered back into bed; his wife asking where he'd gone. "Just to the kitchen dear, I needed another piece of that lamb you prepared this evening it was just so good, and I hadn't had it since I was a child not much older than those two new grandsons.

Mom rushed in and began to coddle the weeping child as the other drifted back into rest, the fear of the dark seemed to bring him ease.

[There is more to this kids, but for now, let's end the story of a boy and see about this special girl that wanders the Earth too.]

[luvpogl-music]

She sat staring at nothing, her thoughts had long stolen away any attention to the ramblings of the street spewed below. Her stomach sick with disgust; she knew, but needed the time alone to convince herself of it...

He couldn't be there, but he had too; it had been way to long and he knew it would have her sick. He was sick though, he told her he didn't want to take the job, but she talked him into it. He did it for her, all just for her, but no one could understand it. He had to push it all back now; the last thing he wanted ever to take back to her was the wretched vileness of humanity he wadded through every day, just to get back to her...but she stopped believing, long ago...

He had to put that all out of his head now too, no time for thoughts like that, she was gonna need all of him when he walked in...

It was worse than he thought, she hadn't looked this far gone since, since the first time she even fell into his chest crying. That was on of his worst nights, watching the baby die in her arms, knowing nothing neither of them could do to stop it - all he could do was hold her through the night.

Her stomach sank as she heard the door shut focusing on the shadow dancing down to her. The silent disgust of anger soon overtook any empty feelings, she thought how devilishly close it felt to the butterflies of spring love.

The room faded as his eyes met hers, and split seconds slowed time to hours. Both of them only speaking to each others soul, speaking nothing, only their eyes speaking the books of their scars.

"Where have you been she asked, already knowing the answer".

His mind flashed with snapshots of a million things to say to her, but he knew better; she would only listen to the truth.

"I'm sorry, I know it has been longer than it should have been. The devil, he wanted to show me something new; at least he thought was new. Took me up and offered me the world..." he paused with a slight empathetic grin.

Her mind raced, partly at ease and part still sick, but she remembered if he ever brought up the devil it must have been a worse than normal week at work. Stories he wouldn't share with her in some feeble attempt to shield her from the stink of humanity.

He held her as she latched on to his body and in the moment of stillness he whispered; "And when he held the world before me, I realized in a sea of foreign voices, yours is the only one that makes sense. He kissed her forehead and pulled her in deeper to him.

[luvpogl-music]

Watch "Doomtree "Gray Duck" (Official Music Video)" on YouTube

Go ahead and impress me with it stolen lies, educate me friends about "hard" uneducated bars. Show me "who's" next from some bullshit you heard on Tiny Desk. Go ahead you "woke" unwoke fools, show me how smart we all really are...

[luvpogl-music]

Music inspires us to dream, and if we dream it, we will believe it, and when we believe it, we make it a reality. So, keep dreaming those beautiful things on this slow Sunday morning.

Find this and other great music 🎶 from Sade (which no day is complete without) here: