99 names: al Qudus ii - the Purest ii

the Oneness is Love. pure Love. but what does pure love mean? been thinking about this a lot. been wondering about this cause i've been in love, am in love...

what is moving in al Quddus in matters of love require? does it mean to just give it up to whoever, whenever, wherever. 

walking in al Quddus means to be real, to be honest, transparent, to walk, speak, think, move from Quddus.

pure means to Love, and give Love and admire and recognize the beauty of everyone, no matter how ugly their actions may be.

pure, is to operate from this place of purity, where Love is the default, but beware to avoid cofusion with the notion of passive, un-defined love.

let your Quddus in Love be as boundless as the sun and moons and planets, bounded by the orbit of Essence. pure Love is more than an emotion, it is a science that is lost on westerners (all over the world) grappling with lost souls and spirituality.

pure Love is guided by the mathematics of the ecosystems of oceanic galaxies. understanding the math is important to purity, to staying clear of contamination. you can choose not, you can shrug and do you, eat whatever, do whatever, bang with whoever. we have that choice.

al Quddus is truth, and truth misses me like haley's comets and saturn returns, and 1970's bangladesh.

if pure is truth, then i have a long journey ahead of me...because i am off kilter and have often been hypnotized by the pied pipers tunes of babylon, i been drawn to untruth that i've been trying to shake ever since...

been drawn to the combo of skin deep, of slim, long hair, vanilla and cardamom...

been drawn to women who are love, who chemically combust like fracked Pennsylvania, but don't love themselves, who look for lovers like the empty coke cans my homie and i would collect when we were seven, in exchange for ten nickels, 50 cents, to buy a snickers bar.  thing is, what's this saying about me? i've been wondering recently. 

an empty coke can, i've been looking to break through this aluminum, return to the soil of banyan and bodies buried in a traceless earth that only my father could guide me to. don't know where my deciest  grandfather, the medicine man, lies, which tree holds his spirit and bones. 

somehow, at some point, in my babylon-assimilation crip-walk, i became a tombstone, a funeral gathering for the dead, wounded spirits who seek company in the hollow.