Prisoners for life; so are we all in our respective paradigm matrices. Only
but illusorily free are we not hemmed in by razor wire, tall walls and bars … irony.
It has been written that the truth shall set us free; but His truth is not limited to one
people … much less … any one individual … save One.

A fictional/nonfictional history of the world, AN ATLAS, POETIC has been written
(albeit, perhaps, in vain), because our Creator foreordained … that it be … written.
Predestination; so completely at odds with our illusion of free will … is consistent
with a Creator knowing the numbers of hairs on heads, from moment to moment.

Predestination; historically speaking, a radical, and to many, a heretical doctrine,
pointedly … NOT … generally accepted … doctrine.
Prisoners for life; but we’re our own jailers and we have keys to our cells, in hand.
Perhaps God inspired the Scriptures, cross-culturally … so we might understand.

It is of the utmost importance that His children aspire and struggle to overcome
the adversities … inherent to life … after The Fall … from His Kingdom.
Time and change; one, a fourth dimension, the other, a dimensionless
ebb and flow; both … purposeful dimensions … but formless.

Once upon times, a dreamy One asked, in dreamy slumbers, one (wo)man
from every land to pen a poem to … every nation.
The compendium is “AN ATLAS … POETIC”…. It languishes, in
the memory of Art Everman’s laptop … read by no one … but … Everman.

AN ATLAS, POETIC… a compendium … of heartfelt pleas,
for Mandela-Tutu-like, global truth and reconciliation, please.
In this surreal nonfiction, what needs to be read by every human (every man,
woman and child on the planet), has been read only by … Arthur … Everman.

In this surreal nonfiction, AN ATLAS … POETIC … is poetry … about history,
sociology and eschatology; irony in verse for the nations and the territories;
irony in history and prophesy in verse for nations and territories; a call to action;
to become not Indian, Pakistani, American, or Russian but rather … Bohemian.

An existential riddle: Spiritualities diverse aside, isn’t our common denominator
actually our humanity and not … surreally … any base … nationality?
In this surreal nonfiction … what is the common thread in the fabric
for His creation? Isn’t it the totality … of His creation … cosmic?

Diverse spiritualities aside, the quintessence of unfathomability
is His purpose and our purpose.
But were we to abnegate nationality and exalt humanity,
wouldn’t we accomplish … His purpose?

#Twitterfiction: Come to @chachomanopapa on Twitter and a surreal analog,
chachomanopapa.wordpress.com. Poetry on history, from tweets and a blog.
Read excerpts from AN ATLAS … POETIC of India and Pakistan and a prologue
of what ne’er shall be written by any man … humanity’s … epilogue.