Distinguish the Sacred Flame

Distinguish the Sacred Flame(and don’t let the pilot light go out)
By: Patrick Michael

And so I start off yet another potentially poetic edit with the breaking of a grammar rule; one that is meant to be foolproof, yet forgets to acknowledge the power of intellect over formality.

I know that I should be placed after ’e’. However, the electronic training manual locks in my needs for a picket fence to look over the weight of how my neighbor’s measure with a yardstick instead of a ruler.
And then I wonder if it matters how real it is if it makes it to the tape, or if its just measuring the walls and getting the dimensions for a new home.
And did it make it to the DVD without getting wiped clean?

Snap out of your preconceived notions, things get weird with so many exceptions.

Nod your head if you disagree, but smile so I know your listening ears heard me correctly; you’re gonna give yourself away.

Rub your tummy counter-clockwise and pat your head in time.

Now switch hands, retrograde the change up; my ambidextrous nature is asymmetric.

While I wait for the past to catch up, I’ll decide right now what reactions need to be caught in the act, and which actions should be permissible in order for chaos to ensure freedom.

It’s all very boring, and the paperwork is stories high, but I’m done with dichotomy for now.

My acknowledgements of my mistakes were honorable at first, proved to be worthy of valor, but it took real courage to admit that I was wrong to continue on this way.

Now that my survival instinct proved I knew how to get home, I’ll do my homework here, keep my work out there and let the nature of things proceed as they were.

I’m no longer reading the books of the past, so I’m translating a message for my futuristic misconceptions of myself.

I call myself out before I really ever knew what had been true.

Nostradamus must have been in so much trouble for this, how did he find a way for them to dismiss?

Mistrial by firing blanks on the jury, the only ones that heard shots ring out were the courts that attempted to judge my case before It went to trial, which, in the long-run, messed up the overall results in the first place.

I’ve peaked my head out from beneath the curtain after the show is over to deliver the moral of the story and how the Ethos was sound.

Logos was a sense of validation, my Pathos has always been a source of the profound. Chronos found my timing to be the point of delivery, while Kairos was the distinction between intuition and instinct.

I’ve learned to Master my soul, and I don’t Jack trades.

I mistook them for spades and now I plant my Ace’s in the Earth cause I know she’ll grow them better than I ever could.

 My higher power was once in the sky, but I’m not afraid of heights. I’m looking down at the Earth as we travel through space, so I realize I’m looking inside.

 True north is based on the map I was given, let me know if it’s based on the stars or the magnetic pole before you show me that I was the bearings, not the compass in stow.