Village Meltdown

You wont believe it, druggies on every corner, I was propositioned by a young woman, beautiful, she is injecting herself, you probably know her from school, the towns people are afraid, it’s madness over there, even the cops are afraid to go near the place. Solomon looked at the expression on the face, the one doing the talking, he was the listener. Foils on every alley, needles too, he listened to the voice, it was the run up to the election, and the speakers party was the strong arm of hope, Solomon listened on. How the masters of misery try to create the worst thoughts, frightening the sheep, a tried and trusted method of getting your attention, so listen..

You have to listen in the context of the times, same way politicians and poll shakers do a test before they announce the real news, they gauge your reaction. Everyone from Islam is dangerous, every Mexican is a rapist, every Irish man is a drunk, every white man a saint. The boy cried wolf sighed Solomon, when the danger is real no one will believe him. It was a mute point, there were many signs in the Sky, results, polls, national intrigues, unstable leaders, trumpet calls, as Ezra said in the book he wrote 2,7000 years before, before the coming of the new world. Solomon hoped those who were trying to divide opinion had been reading the signs, it applied to them as well, the village meltdown.

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Finding Redemption

She sits at their kitchen table, has been speaking with their friends, her lawyer too, she has caught him cheating, she is waiting for him to come in the door, their santuary has melted before her eyes, the cocoon they built, was it all lies, I trusted him with my happiness, and now it’s all about to disintegrate. Her life is over, she is barely forty. The time I invested in him, worse, the other men she gave up for him, the career she set aside, maybe that is an excuse, another reason to hate him, we all strecth the truth, sanctimonious, who isn’t. How she liked fixing their meals, the list gets bigger. So many things she overlooked, the stuff she put up with, inside she tells herself she is perfect, well, he was the one who thrashed the relationship. There is the sound of a car in the drive, she fills the wine glass before he comes in, she doesn’t want him to have one. She is angry.

I’m home he says, she hears his voice in the hall, he has no idea that she knows, or what is ahead of him. He drops the keys on the counter, I’ll open another one he says with a smile, he needs a friend, he is looking at the bottle, it’s empty, why the silence he says, he is full of himself, a great day at the office and two weeks off as a result. I know she says, what, they have told you already, that’s quick. He fetches a glass sits down beside her, why the gloom he says, she is prone to depression, he doesn’t rile her, she gets over it within an hour, she has been that way, since she lost the baby.

It’s only your imagination he says, when she confronts him, he understands, she has not been feeling well these last few months, it’s easy to understand. Compassion, he is a patient man.

 

Love 1907 Style — The Müscleheaded Blog

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Hey gang! I found a very appealing and fascinating set of postcards from 1907 , featuring newlyweds off on their first adventure together : – their honeymoon. These cards were published by the Julius Bien & Co. Lithographic firm, which was in business between 1850-1915 in New York City. Bien himself was originally an immigrant […]

via Love 1907 Style — The Müscleheaded Blog

The Passing

It was coming, the soul had a few clouds around it, there were things that needed to be said, permission to move on, before the body says goodbye, the great cruise ship of eternity waiting. Solomon was telling the Great God, he was greater than even the words of old, the wonders of the light, the messengers he met along the way, the thousands of angels that waited, prepared and armed, it was time to let go. Like a child about to go on a great journey, a mother about to give birth, the pain and the excitement, both have to let go, then the Spirit is set free. She pushes, there is sweat all over her, why do you make it so difficult, the angel is in the corner, she is in for a great surprise, go on  girl, it’s going to be all right. The crown appears, the nurse squeezes her hand, it’s going to be a minute even less, the rest of the body emerges, she has finally given birth. The dot that is invisible, that is only visible under a microscope, carries the history or habits of generations, that invisible dot, would you believe it, I hope you realize this is not made up.

The soul, the friend enters, well a friend always makes you feel good about yourself, even when your up and down, those who are not so friendly leave you with a frown, anxious, and happier when they are gone. It’s going to be fine Solomon says, no moaning or temp feelings, this is permanent, yes, there are those who alert us to all the is harmful, that is because they pass on their own fears, the old soul smiles, he believes it, he knows.

The scales of Justice, what has been the impact of your life, did you reap a harvest of Spiritual love, did you bear good fruit, were you a tricky sort, trying to get the best out it, without given anything back, did you raise your nose as you chided others with your judging, as those in your prayer group said, they are not like us, or did you do what Jesus recommended and reached out. The old soul, a good Samaritan, his life moves on, a gift to another, when the Spirit will get even stronger, amen. Grief, well, if you upset the most high, you have plenty to be anxious about, and grieve I would, but if you bring the light with you, what have you to worry about. Solomon sighed, He will always be my friend.  The last moments they shared, a real good smile.

He’s just like Grand dad, they group around the new born, amazing, tears in their eyes, amen.

The trail around the corner…

Here for the auditions, a car passes, they begin to scream, it’s him, a few of the more cannier ones use the distraction to steal a few places, they are closer to the door, there’s a life to be gained once inside the door, might even get in the paper, bling, a boyfriend with a football club, it’s hard to ignore, the trail around the corner. Inside the talk is ratings, the flow of cash, how they need to become more risque in order to attract, more electric wallets.

The career, she went to drama school, studied in the auditorium, had a real love of song, now she is being controlled by the accountants, and her dealer, well, the cocaine never disappoints, and she can hit it all night. The long dress is now a mini, she has disrobed in the papers a few times, the tit bit doubled her sales that week. Now she is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, have another pill her manager says, there is malice in his eye, who are you after all, didn’t you do the trail around the corner too.

Solomon sighed, it’s never too late to change lanes, amen.

Stop for a moment will you!

I was enjoying this, he looks over his shoulder, turns away from her, his hold still on her, the evening news is on, the results of the mid terms, I don’t believe it she says, wow, Mitch Romney won a seat in the Senate, I thought he retired years ago, the time Obama beat him, The O word, it only relights his anxiety, the thrill he gets beating women, okay she says, you can start beating me again, he continues his strangle hold, nice one he says, catches her clean on the face, at least the children are at school, they won’t see the state of their mother’s face, that’s what they have make up for

, so they can hide behind it. The beatings are as common as breakfast, it’s a family tradition, and because it’s a domestic, it does not alarm the neighbors, they are only afraid of thieves, besides, when the hammering goes on, they usually rise the volume, it doesn’t last more than five minutes, pity she ain’t McGregor, she’d get paid for it.

Domestic violence, and the way it fills the prison system, has done for centuries, the foundations they say are everything, well, if daddy did it, it has to be okay. How many had to live that situation. The preacher is telling the gathering about the reading, its’ a 3,000 year old script, he is trying to get the point across, a good presentation. In the audience, 20% of the women have suffered domestic, but it’s so endemic, well it’s no cause for alarm, the men it seems, like all that weird stuff online, can’t seem to help it, poor things, they’d follow any habit so long as their was a thrill in it.

Solomon sighed, just a prayer, where is this stuff coming from, where were the habits formed, what family life is worth a daily reminder of hell, he sure couldn’t imagine Jesus there before them all, smiling and sighing, he’d have sent the Spirit it, and that would have been that, the reminder they would get, every time they raised their hand in violence. There was a lot to learn. With Christmas fast approaching, many just wanted peace at home, no more the bully. As for those who traded and encouraged, the perversion of the young, words are too impossible to find, to imagine some, trying to profit from the sexpolitation of children, many mere toddlers was beyond comprehension, wasn’t it time they got the alarm call, while those who were trying to put a halt to such horrors, got the insight they needed. A prayer does the business, at least the Spirit within him would be on the case, amen.

Journey of My Soul

Man, did that get her attention, she hadn’t heard those words before….

words, what is he going to say next, they were all listening to the “Guru”, waiting for the inspired words to reach their ears, silence, they stare at each other, the assembled, inside they feel a little pious, well, they are the lucky ones to be in the audience, to even hear the words firsthand, Solomon sighed, imagine what it was like for Jesus, in real time, you can’t beat the original.

What is a journey anyway, it’s what happens in between the times you were born and the time you leave your soul, the meat in the sandwich, the experiences that you fell into, the niche you found for yourself, the choice between comfort and risk, decisions. A Journey is a serious of decisions, some made for you, some you make on your own. Solomon was at a group meeting, a bunch of story tellers, the theme they had to write on, the journey, the journey, so many different meanings, endless. Some journeys you make as a tourist, sightseeing your way through life without getting to know anything, some you make out of great distress, the troubles that befall you, and how you deal with them.

Then there are the journeys that change worlds’ Solomon smiled, he’d a few of those in his lifetime, not just one, but a whole bunch of them, each of them juicy on their own, but he got through the maze. His inspiration, those who made similar journeys, well, similar in that they caused him to take the risk, and go the route less taken, when you go jungle as they say, and forego the usual comforts.  Nelson Mandela, persecuted for taking a stand, Che Guevara, immortalized, Martin Luther King, too, the point being, those that made those choices before, laid the stones of future journeys for many, and each one of them, did it, one day at a time, the speeches only came at the end.

Monday, a new journey, he was asking for help, sure he would be assisted, as prayers made in the Holy Name, never go unheard, and it just happens. Believe, amen.