Those Old Wars

A lot of bloodshed, a lot of heart break, does anyone remember their names, hardly, Amo nods in the bed, still a teacher, he listens, it’s all that He can do these days, listen. You are not feeling well he says, his visitor is an old friend, they were in college together, that is sixty years or more, over a hundred and twenty years between them, come to think of it, a lot of living time on the planet, a couple of major wars, the great one in 1939, do they all remember that, ration cards, doing without petrol, driving the car twice a week, if you were lucky enough to have one.

I’m getting old Amo, says the friend, not unlike yourself, they share a smile. They went on the odd holiday together, when travel was a huge experience, not the twenty four seven event it is now, when tickets to anywhere can be bought within hours of flying, and half the price when you do. Amo sighs, everything moves on, in the end we leave behind what, memories, that are hopefully, a legacy of a sort. The old friend, nods. Will anyone remember us, the thought is on his visitors mind, Amo has no such fears.

Immune to the news, Solomon sighed, when we hear too much of it we switch off. There is another appeal, another famine zone, another disaster, another social meltdown, the car moves along, the radio is changed, music, an awful lot happier, positive. Immune are we, to news and all that we don’t want to hear. Solomon pursed his lips, an observer, he watched it all. It must have been the same at the time of the ancient prophets, the news no one listened to, the descent into pleasure, this is going to last forever. Time tells us, it never lasts, maybe that’s what we need to recall, it is all passed on, your habits, good bad or indifferent.

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Migrant Mary

The tent leaks, it’s cold, but there is a TV, she is watching CNN, the debate is very personal, they are talking about the “Wall”, the door is closed to her and many like her, Dear God she says, is this always going to be their way. For cash they will allow the “dreamers” stay on, what sort of thinking is that, to build a wall, everyone knows you can cross any border these days. Mary is not your ordinary migrant, well, no migrant is ordinary, they take extraordinary chances to create a life, and they do. Miguel comes into the tent, her seven year old son, what are you looking at Mam, they are discussing us she says, his eyes light up, you mean we are going to be famous, he gets excited inside, everyone wants to be famous these days, including, seven year old Miguel.

The diseases have eased since the red cross doctors arrived, but the food is staple, porridge with lots of vitamin, meanwhile, the leaders of Davos, sit down to an eight course meal. There is a flash from the cameras, looks delish says Miguel, he is fed up with the bland food, and used to doing without. What are they discussing he says, he’s a smart child, can ask the right question at the right time, will make a good job when he grows up, if allowed, the other options don’t augur well, he is smart, and that is not something to be wasted. You don’t want him becoming a terrorist.

A teacher in her homeland, a number now, counted with millions of others on the move across the globe, when your without and you don’t have an address, there are few who take you seriously.

Solomon sighed, when will they apply the wisdom and teaching of old, all those old gitters are going to face the eternal judge, for real, they will all have to account for themselves, with all their educations and those expensive schools, you’d have thought they might have learned, have they not seen the signs in the Sky, should have gone to the opticians sooner I suppose. A war was raging, the old time nationalists wanted to turn back time, problem was mother nature was weaker, and they were all being used by the new world extremists. At least after all the troubles of the past, the younger set were not going to fall for that, as for Migrant Mary, the tent leaks, the air is cooler, but Miguel still dreams of being famous.

Flight of Destiny….. could be a diva’s dream….

 

 

The wings rise in union, the small creature is carrying a message, destiny calls, obstacles in the sky, the usual predators and obstacles, and the latest threats, the magnified air, the invisible microwaves, can send the radar spinning, little dove is one of many, that have set off before, it’s a journey across the world. Little heart, she recalls the day she was born, the shell cracked open, it wasn’t easy, she had to move around until it fell away. Interesting, you noticed everything around you, the beginning, your first breath of fresh air. Never did you imagine you’d be flying high up there, even if you were made for the journey, it’s a surprise every time, the lift and you’re airborne, no jet or exhaust fumes. Sally flaps her wings, a little slower than before, her tempo is slowing, it will soon be time to rest.  Rather than cross the ocean at the widest point, when the others didn’t return, it was decided you’d cross as much land, in case it was the water that caused their demise. You are trying to follow the map, but you found out early, that even the landmarks had changed, cities where there were towns, but some are still there. A church steeple or another holy place, the only places where you can find safe nights rest, clouds on the horizon too, rain, it only adds weight, normally it wouldn’t matter, but this was not a normal journey, the message you carry, has the key that will open the gates of Heaven. A couple is getting married, and your arrival at a certain perch will be a sign, then the book is revealed, the holy men and women will unite.

The rise in electronic masts, the waves, the frequencies they interfere with, is putting your navigation skills to the test, but your one of the last ones, they said you did not fly that fast, lucky for you, it is giving you time to circle problems rather than immerse in them. The wings are heavy, you have been flying a Lindbergh, non-stop for five hours, you need a rest. It’s essential, put the wings down and have a good eat.

There is no need to carry anything, otherwise, you don’t fly, one of the great secrets, you and your kind know too well. The way humans worry, there you are waiting to gather a few crumbs, the conversations you hear, when they are troubled help is sent to them, an army of flying helpers, everyone has a specific purpose. The mind is tired, and you need to stay focused, the old teachers words, the reason you and all you feathery creatures were created, at the time, perhaps too young, you thought it was an exaggeration, now, in this time of stress, what you thought was an excess, it holding you in shape, strange words you sigh, the ache on the wing is forgotten, you could fly for hours if you stayed in this frame of mind.

Haven’t been home in a year, what is taking so long, when you get there you will be on time, what sort of timetable is this, that’s what they said to you at the beginning, what planning, you can never lose, then you remember the month you spent in the sun, unplanned, but you were having doubts, and the company was great.  Fresh homegrown bread with lots of grains every morning, berries and all sorts of fruit, some you only heard of, served to you every morning by the gentle mullah, while there was a war going on in all directions, maybe it was wise to stay when you did. Two weeks at the monastery, they treated you as if you were a royal guest, boy did you live it up that fortnight and put on a couple of ounces you had to shed before you were able to take flight. There, you spot the steeple, the head changes, you turn the flaps on your wing, you do a recognisance, there could be a hidden mast, and that’s an experience you don’t want to repeat, sent you off course for five hundred miles, your lower in the sky, you do a second pass, nothing dangerous, it’s a real monastery, not one of those private homes, it’s safe to land.  Some damn map you say.

 

 

She wakes from her dream, her first interview today, a young aspiring actor, she has a big heart, wants to play those roles that inspire, give heart, if only she can overcome those obstacles. Her bedroom door opens, her breakfast, eggs benedict, her eyes lift, just the start I needed……what a dream, imagine being a little white dove, do you know what that means….

24 Seven Care in a 365 day world…

 

Imagine your old, unable to do it for yourself, in need, walking a difficulty, eating a scary feeling, you can’t chew that well, the risk of food getting stuck in your throat, not forgetting the medication, a number of conditions, from heart beat to sleep, you need the basics, just to get through the day, then remind yourself, all the news chasers, responding to isolated reports, the difficulties some elderly live with, then recall the struggle, of those daily providing the caring, cleaning dirty nappies, assisting with toilet, responding to the alarm bells through the night, imagine what it’s like working and living in that world, always trying to be uppity, going room to room, with advice for everyone, doing the chore, being patient while the residents are not so pliable, feeling confined as they are, in their limited life space, would you do those tasks, for 10 to fifteen euro’s or dollars per hour, or would you leave it to someone else.

Imagine it, if we live long enough, we will be all in the hands of the carers; isn’t time to moved it a notch upwards, those menial jobs many deride, cleaning and feeding the elderly, who once were the Kings and Queens of their neighborhoods, just a thought for a Thursday, amen.

And when things go wrong, everyone shouts, we need a lawyer here, not that the residents are going to benefit, well, at least some good came out of it you say, something for yourself of course, hey, we paid good money, doesn’t those words ring bells in your head!

Italy….

What, your going Italian, watch your ass dear, the men pinch the women there, they say its a compliment, I suppose if your older, it is, she shakes her head, you can’t be serious, well, when I was there thirty years ago, that was the way, it’s changed perhaps. She gives him a look, are men supposed to flatter women that way, a real pain in the ass, no lawyer would get a dollar out of their system, maybe today maybe today.  Well, she is getting angry, it’s so incorrect to talk like that, criticize the church in the old days and you lost your job, criticize the government in the old communist days, and you found yourself in the gulags, no wonder the world is in a mess.

Solomon sighed, it’s getting crazy all right, if there is money involved and publicity, they all want it, same as loud children, they want notice. She is at the interview for the shoot, she is prepared to pose, and no one is forced to look, unlike the children with the mobile porn library in their hands, they have less of a choice. Well, we are supposed to be interested in reproducing, seems we have been programmed to, otherwise, who knows.

She dis robes and flashes, had the double D enhancements, is always talking about it. hey, if they are for my husband or partner it’s my business she yells, well, why are you telling the world honey asks the young reporter, she gives him an up and down, boy if you don’t know the answer to that, do you think they’d look at us otherwise. Eighty per cent of the world agree with her, we are here to get the cash, if it wasn’t us it would be someone else.

Meanwhile, the tabloids want anything that gets the attention, and women I assume, are supposed to supply them, a simple comment, but did it hold any weight. The news is the same, another scandal, mean while, all their children are secretly looking up the stuff, hypocrisy, if they only knew, that all their habits were known, stop scratching your ass. and remember to wash your hands, and stop eating that, disgusting.

The Party at the Inn

She is going through the list, who will she invite. She is very particular, doesn’t want to offend her guests, doesn’t want to upset anyone, mostly herself, it’s an image she has to protect, so she tells herself. The cost of it going wrong, she could lose the friendships of those who can help, her career is all that matters, the money is pouring in, and her manager wants to ensure it keeps that way. He deftly reminds her, the maintenance costs alone are staggering dear, and you love to swim in the pool, she does she admits, things, they can keep her occupied.

She checks the list, all are well to do, there is no need to be embarrassed, everyone will get along fine, she passes the list to her manager for approval, well, he has steered her well so far, she is busier than Elvis in her prime, besides, she had thrown a few dollars into the shelter, a few turkeys and boxes of sweets, they’ll think it Christmas, and she will give her ego a kick.

He reads the statement, the transfer overseas, the pension fund he reminds himself, the accountant is going to get a bonus, the fund is out performing the best estimates, it’s gravy all around. He reads the invitation, another of those parties, he wonders if he will bother, thinks twice, there might be a few worth networking around.

Is it all they do, count money, measure, size up, have they heart, is there any

spirit in them, Solomon imagined God Most High listening to the goings on, the pride and the foolishness of it all, no thought given to the eternal. Some party though….

A knock at the door, the butler purses his lips, she couldn’t possibly know this person, too shabby, and the face, drawn, I’m Mary, she says, a man stands at the gate, she has a bump, move on says the butler, madame has no time for you, he points to a shelter down the road, that’s where your type go. Solomon sighed, was the story of old all about the well being of Spirit, and the welcome it could look forward to, just imagine it…. isn’t a pity it’s only a crisis when there is no way out and never before, damn, wheres the party..?

You have to feel it…

The young man is in a far away place, the words roll over him, he isn’t listening to the old man, it’s not that he is bad mannered, he is just a little tired, where are you he asks, he is talking to himself and his Spirit guide, where are you. Are you listening sunny, the old man is trying to get a point across, the child is his grandson, he is filling in for the boys father, and not doing a great impression. has never used a modern i phone, can’t use the net, the boy is not looking forward to Christmas, and so the old man is trying to cheer him up.

Why don’t you leave me alone he snarls, and quickly leaves the scene, he is soon before the screen, surfing his new friend list, trying to find an escape. all around they are cheering Christmas, while all he gets is upset, does anyone listen… There is a knock at the door, the post man appears, the old man takes the parcel, wonders if he will call the boy down, bad tempered fool he says, with that attitude he’ll end up in jail.

Solomon listens, the aches and the pretends, the acting and the real, the over verbose and the serene, he too wonders if it’s real sometimes, how one day the baby is honored and sought, while a little time later, well, it’s open to all sorts of abuse. was this a description of the world, the child is born, the environment is getting more restrictive by the year, more and more saying openly, the stress is unbearable at times.

You have to feel it he sighed, but when it is real, you sure do know it. The boy in the story will get to the stage, a kind friend will intervene, then he will understand, all it takes is a little time and patience, not the micro wave thinking that is in so many heads, hey, will you talk to me awhile, the voice is lonely, the mouth opens, you suddenly begin to feel. Being the Season of Christmas, it was good to be made aware of why it’s celebrated..amen