Saturday, August 17, 2019


Dog Poet Transmitting.......




Late last night I listened to this fellow.














“So farewell to the little good you bear me.
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness!
The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do.

I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory,
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
At length broke under me and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye:
I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have:
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.”


End Transmission.......

Today's song;



Here is where you go to sign up for Pocketnet.



Ray B. said...

Vis, many loving truths and excellent wordsmithing! Thanks.

Vis: "There is also the inescapable truth that that spark of life within each of us, is divine and... it will work internally against them... The very life within them will war against their despicable intentions..."

Most people don't grok that the vast majority of the universe (the folks within it, seen and unseen) is telepathic. It is only in our dumbed-down, stunted state that people believe that we are 'separate'. Full or partial telepathy is the 'natural state', not mouth-speak.

Given that, think of our (earth-bound) state as being beneath a fog-bank. Above it, the air is clear. Within it, we believe being-enshrouded is the norm. Our telepathic selves are like that. All of us are telepathic, right now. The individual or planetary 'fog bank' is interfering, down here. But just above the interference, we are communing telepathically, right now. It is just 'filtered out' before we know of it, as telepathy would make short-work of the bad-guy plans.

In other words, there are good-guy 'plotters' everywhere, above the fog (including us). Communicating telepathically. As the fog gets lifted (one way or another), look for almost miraculous 'progress'. Everything was 'sorted out' on the telepathic side, long ago...

Best Wishes,
Ray B.
P.S. This quote just seemed to fit the situation:
"One must possess a larger view to understand what is going on.
One must embrace a larger view to be a part of what is going on."

Anonymous said...

God bless you Visible, though He already has. I think it's likely Epstein is still alive - the scumbags at the top still can use his demonic services. There's a rumor that a van came to the jail the morning before he died and wasn't logged in - the anonymous witness saw a man in fatigues with an assault rifle and he was loaded into his van to disappear into the morning mist.

Unknown said...

This just sprang to mind:


There’s an inner thing in every man,
Do you know this thing my friend?
It has withstood the blows of a million years,
And will do so to the end.

It was born when time did not exist,
And it grew up out of life,
It cut down evil’s strangling vines,
Like a slashing searing knife.

It lit fires when fires were not,
And burnt the mind of man,
Tempering leadened hearts to steel,
From the time that time began.

It wept by the waters of Babylon,
And when all men were a loss,
It screeched in writhing agony,
And it hung bleeding from the Cross.

It died in Rome by lion and sword,
And in defiant cruel array,
When the deathly word was ‘Spartacus’
Along the Appian Way.

It marched with Wat the Tyler’s poor,
And frightened lord and king,
And it was emblazoned in their deathly stare,
As e’er a living thing.

It smiled in holy innocence,
Before conquistadors of old,
So meek and tame and unaware,
Of the deathly power of gold.

It burst forth through pitiful Paris streets,
And stormed the old Bastille,
And marched upon the serpent’s head,
And crushed it ‘neath its heel.

It died in blood on Buffalo Plains,
And starved by moons of rain,
Its heart was buried in Wounded Knee,
But it will come to rise again.

It screamed aloud by Kerry lakes,
As it was knelt upon the ground,
And it died in great defiance,
As they coldly shot it down.

It is found in every light of hope,
It knows no bounds nor space
It has risen in red and black and white,
It is there in every race.

It lies in the hearts of heroes dead,
It screams in tyrants’ eyes,
It has reached the peak of mountains high,
It comes searing ‘cross the skies.

It lights the dark of this prison cell,
It thunders forth its might,
It is ‘the undauntable thought’, my friend,
That thought that says ‘I’m right!’ said...

I watched this and it rang a a bell!…
He was murdered.

David Fiske said...…
He was murdered

Love To Push Those Buttons said...

I'll find out what happened to shlepstein when I get my Akashic Library Card. Dead or alive, as the former First Bitch said, what's the difference? Now, anyway. Another 5 Nostril post.

Martyrs! Gods, what a flick. Saw bits and pieces, and that ending is a doozy. A fate fit for lots of politicians, and those who serve them. A few CEOs, too. (All pharma companies, amazon, wal-fart. . .)

Visible said...

That was the darkest and most evil film I have ever seen. I didn't get what was up until the end or I wouldn't have watched it through. I am surprised I did anyway as that sort of film is not my thing. I imagine all sorts of people saw that film and did not know what they were in for. It was exceedingly real. I think I know a little more about the darkness in some people, given what I have run into and experienced. I've crossed paths with some real monsters; luckily I was able to move right by. Pocketnet is amazing! It has a dingbat factor but it also has info and interesting things I run into nowhere else.

Visible said...

Unknown; thanks for that brilliantly written piece. Is that the Bobby Sands who hunger striked himself into the next world?

Unknown said...

Yes. My First sentence as a two your old child was: "Bobby Sands is dead"

robert said...

Dear Visible One,

The psychic pressure is going to 11

We who know we have hearts deeper than our minds can fathom must keep watch on our energy level and keep it pinned to the humble baseline, If we try to care for all of the heart-rending dire straits people have lead themselves into, we will blow our own gaskets. So, we throw our cares upon the One, represented by the Christ within and pray as unceasingly as we are able.

I keep saying to my soul, have You ever experienced the magnitude of world-wide stress and confusion?
The answer is: nothing like this and nothing like this ever again.

Knowing that there are others who know that they have souls against the mass deception of soullessness is a comfort!

Visible said...

A new Visible Origami is up now-

"Cry on Zion and Babble-on too Make Haste before Armageddon Gets You."

Visible said...

Hang in there Robert. Love WILL find a way. As long as your love goes before you, fear can have no presence. One displaces the other. Neither can exist at the same time as the other. The (necessary for existence) drink of evil is fear. It cannot operate without it. It is the oil that keeps the gears from seizing up.

Unknown... Wow! that is an image. I must say that my admiration for Sands just went through the roof. What an articulate fellow! Thank you so much for bringing that to my attention. I already thought highly of him. For years I've been one to say, "Up the IRA" and when they blew up that slime, Mountbatten and all that was left was a shoe, I danced a jig. I have had a real hatred for the occupation. Yes, I know the IRA are killers but look at what birthed them!

I remember reading "Trinity" Whoa... that book set me back a few steps into a pondering reflection. Eight hundred fucking years of uninterrupted tragedy (more now actually). Funny thing is, I'm not Irish. I'm Scotch and Austrian. The Scots were in the same dilemma. One of my favorite phrases is, "British Justice" said with a curdling sneer. One of my favorite poets was Richard Lovelace. At the time he was one of the richest men in England. He spent his whole fortune backing and fighting in wars against factions in his own country. He was a royalist so that aspect of loyalties is a bit muddy. I LOVE that poem, "To Althea from Prison" "If I have freedom in my love and in my soul am free, angels alone that soar above, enjoy such liberty" I REALLY liked that guy!!! He and I shared the same sentiments about that icon of the 'clerk mind'; Oliver Cromwell. Those were murky times.

Anonymous said...

A great recital of the poem is here:

also on-topic, these are worth a look:

Moving Hearts - "Irish Ways & Irish Laws"

Sinead O'Connor - Irish Ways (live)

Christy Moore - If They Come In the Morning

A classic Visible post:

With gratitude to Patrick Willis.
