Before The Virus…..

Crowds outside the halls of Justice, posters, yelling crowds, the felon is brought out, in chains, law enforcement wants to show him off, the district attorney wants to get re elected, while campaigners don’t want to miss an opportunity to increase the membership, no one wants to lose here, apart from the convicted felon. It could be Bernie, it could be anybody, it’s a good way to let them all know, you don’t get away with it anymore, right!.

Political forecasters, night and day studying the polls, reading the tweets, you said this, she said that, the spin doctors rumble through the thrash, hoping to find something damaging, anything to harm the candidate. The old bias cards are played, that will wind them up, the more dirt the better, the game hots up.

Solomon sighed, the plants co-operate with each other, the bugs get on, the birds fly cleverly, they don’t try to bump themselves off, and the human race that is watching it all, is supposed to be learning from it. At night the insects hum, during the day the birds sing, flowers lean towards the sun, while humble bees just buzz along; that can’t be too hard to imitate.

After the virus, when is this going to end, all other so called causes forgotten. The straw that broke the camels back was no heavier than the last. Solomon saw the signs, many had, the world was been watched from afar, it was a time for community driven thinking, could be learn from nature he sighed.

Red Hot Chilies For Fear

 

I am still young…..

On the streets, she is in her twenties, she is young for sure. Watching it all, for ever aware, it’s how she feels secure, getting over it has not been easy, she is trying to play it safe if safe is possible. The memory of that night, the lasting impression, not the one she wanted to store, it has forced itself inside her like a thief, unwelcome, but there. In her side pocket her hand, which is wrapped around, a small bottle of hot chili pepper spray, a concoction she prepared herself, by adding a few heavy peppers to the original spray, she wants it to stop a horse, she has tried it on her cat, and it worked. The cat stayed away for a month, sorry puss. The sudden noise of a car startles, she recoils from any loud noises, her inner calm, she was strong she thought, not strong enough to fight the pills they gave her; she has nightmares wondering what they did to her, the only scars, a large bruise spot, the real scar, the fear they left behind. Was that the reason she joined the pioneers; never going to trust alcohol again or anyone using the stuff. Who knows why, it happens, the therapist told her she’d get over it, words that came all to easily to mind, experts are supposed to know. Paddy, so polite in the beginning, never wanted much, was it all an act, years later, perhaps it was she doing the acting, she doesn’t enjoy the thought, he might have been happy with a go to woman, mentally he was never a challenge to her, is it all about my life, is the today me the real person, or is it a return to who she was before. Dreaming, did she dream. When did it stop, was it the bout of depression, no she sighs, that was after the first beating, at least she saw it coming.

Her head in her hands, she twists her vision towards the bottle, a sly glance. You, she reaches for it, examines the label, her vision is improving, she can read the small print, she lets out a laugh, what a sense of humour, she imagines God to be a comic somewhere, taking the piss with us, allowing us thrash the party, then like an absent father, returns out of the blue, not as a rich man, but as an extremely happy man, who wears a permanent smile, takes a can from one of the party goers while exclaiming, there will be a clean up she, or he says, to which all at the party nod approvingly, relieved to hear, that while the party is over, it’s not the end of all parties, a break in the contagion, slowdown time, as if the jet that is carrying his baggage is about to come into land, presents for the children, stiff warnings too, behave yourselves he says, play safe, a phrase everyone smiles at, especially Amy, who had her first close encounter of the intimate kind, with her boyfriend, love connection with play safe top of the priority list. Well, if you are provided with the means of spiritual well being in it’s fullest, you have to take into account the assets you are born with. Is that wishful thinking, she is young, how else can you survive, doom and gloom ignores the beauty of art, not everyone went to Amsterdam to view available women and cheap sex, not forgetting the other; there are museums as well.

Horror Stories and Us….

Living the nightmare, clutching the cushion before you, hoping that the Hero see’s the danger before it gets him, or hoping that the demon catches the girl and devours her, there are many ways of looking at a scene, a story, even your imagination. Every set of eyes see’s it different, they all have a memory, we are the sum of our experiences basically. You are young, you are rooting for the good person, your emotions are invested, besides, you are a child, those you nurture and feel most for, are those around you, and you want no harm to come to them, it hurts when they suffer.

Solomon recalled the journeys of old, how things happened, what being a child was like, before the advent of technology into the heart of so many lives. You didn’t have to text your pal to say this is boring, you didn’t have to tell your pal that everything was wrong, in a nutshell, you didn’t have the time to complain, you lived in the now, today was the day. You are going on holidays, you know your going, you don’t have doubts, there is a place, there is a road, you have been there before, and you know how to get there, it’s rather simple. The sandy beach, the caravan park, the others you will meet, the swim in the sea, and the guarantee of sunshine and good times, that’s the thought, you are going on holidays. You are not worried about the cost, what does it matter, you are not worried about the food, you haven’t starved yet, basically, you don’t worry at all, cause it always works out. For the same reason, you want the Hero to catch the bad man, and not the other way around.  Does this sound too simple, well, it used to be the way it was for a great many people.

Today we live with the uncertainty of not knowing, insecurity is mainstream, what we thought was for ever, doesn’t seem so, leaders are going strange, and the use of twenty word tweets and posts, can make the global news in a matter of seconds, as if we need to know, how so and so is thinking. Lets hope we don’t lose our minds with all the worry out there, that is the real horror story.

Solomon encountered the Spirit, heavenly assistance, magical rescues as if it’s the norm. It is, it was, and it will be again, for anyone who puts the eternal truth into their heads; God exists, and in these trying times, this is one truth you can rely upon, amen. There is no horror story when divine intervention is your friend.

legs and Passion

What are you talking about, she looked at him. Does anything come for free in this world, you get what you want, then your nice to me, it’s always conditional. She looks at him, her eyes are droopy, suggestive, he takes the bait. Afterwards she sighs, fool, he is so easily led. The cost of all this persuasion, turning minds and heads. It’s a game. The young girl see’s how the men react, she wants that sort of attention. Solomon sighed, whatever happened to real love, its so long since it’s been sighted, its like an extinct feeling.

He goes to the therapist, explains the issue, they don’t see me as human, they see me as a commodity, i feel bought, a performing circus performer, this is not the life i signed up for. The therapist looks at him, naive poor dear, she will screw him for as many sessions she can get away with. She tells him he is making progress, see you next week, chump she sighs as he closes the door.

Solomon could read her mind, she hadn’t a clue, she was the same as everyone else who exploited the vulnerable, poor choice, no one fools God, legs or passion, it usually starts with the eyes, then the heart, then the shared passion. How we by pass the normal means of communication in this rapidly changing world. At least the signs are creating a new sense of awareness.

After The Virus

New friendships made, stubborn chat between arch enemies, no escaping the facts, the virus was more than biological change, the social network was changing, how we had the chance to look at ourselves anew, perhaps ask questions for the first time ever, questioning what went on unnoticed, Mary sits at her table, doing the math of the era. In the writer’s manual they said that all the great writers made themselves known, in times of crisis, study the literature, what came out of depression, the artists who didn’t suffer a personal agony of some type, out of difficulty we often find ourselves again? All this change has to be incorporated into her book, all relationships appear to alter as, she pauses, he is moving around again upstairs, she no longer sneers, hoping to hear him fall.

Relationships change, she is getting selfish, it’s about time, and I’m not getting younger she reminds herself, even if she looks and feels ten years younger since the virus precautions came into existence, everyone looks better, hard to believe it, to be young is a matter of less stress, she recalls passing the new head shop, she used to have names for the place, now she wonders if she will try the new form of marijuana once this thing is over; Hollywood names seem to approve it, and she really trusts some of the names.

What do I miss without being too personal she thinks? She dallies with her talisman, a real led pencil, she can’t imagine a writer’s desk without one, a thin red pencil with a rubber on one end, correcting the script at least. Is it the lack of shopping, is it the lack of fear of having visitors, the need to be more focussed on self cleaning rather than the furnishings, she smiles, bathing in the full bath is way beyond the shower and the new go thing, no fun in that sort of scrub when in the shower, baths for the future , no other way, her skin is softer too, and the odours are all sweet, as if a small change in the washing habit is the same as the slow un buckling of a fragrant rose, cleaner the air, clearer the fragrance, same could be said about the other, she looks forlornly at the ceiling, Excited by dirt, she has many ways of saying it, but the virus is bringing out the imagination. Was it the worry, she doesn’t want to think that, she forgave him during her walk, not that she’d allow him near her, the six foot rule, that she can handle, does it apply to indoors, it should she says, talking to the pencil in her hand, she, it has to be a female pen, it’s not chewed up, nice and thin, and it works for real when it has to, it must be a female pencil.

Young Again

The dreams of a child, the fears so few, the welfare of your family, the normal priority, Solomon was remarking on the dramatic changes taking place in the world, how a simple virus had upstaged everyone, grinding to a halt the relentless machine, that spoke progress and destruction in the same breath, as each emerging tyrant tried to grab the pole position of envy and greed, a race to nowhere, that left scars everywhere you looked.

No competition, the only anxiety, who won the football match, are your friends calling around, will I have some one to play with, as for sexual predators, they were never mentioned and few existed, unless created in the press. Solomon was thinking young again, how basic the needs how rich the care, and how that way of living was infiltrated, in the name of progress, we haven’t got that here, can I have one of those. What happened to the peace of mind so many children used to enjoy. It was unheard of, years ago, for all these mental issues to be apparent in so many lives. If that wasn’t an indicator of the mad hole the world had fallen into, then they all must be blind. Stress, only good for those who can afford to go shopping or those already addicted to pills.

It even made those wild tribes men in those far away places seem normal, when they complained about the threat of modernity, today they seem the most reasonable of men. Well, the experts used to classify the over washing of oneself as a form of mental illness not so long ago, today it’s encouraged, has the world gone mad, as for those off shore schemes, that steal legally day after day, there comes a time, when someone says halt, enough is enough. If you can’t rear children in a stress free world, shouldn’t you do something about it?.

Being young, having ideals, it sure beats cynicism.

The Cult

 

Solomon sighed, the greatest cult were those made up of non believers, and the efforts they made to annoy him and their funny games. The amount of blessings they simply threw away was amazing; how could the Spirit of Light work with those full of dark thoughts, their minds locked on the material and nothing else. If they understood the well being of Spirit, or had any fear of God, they might have acted with responsibility. The Spirit came, and he had written it every day since; there is no greater power in the Universe, despite those who try to undermine the inner well being of those who see it different. They all claim to belong to this group or that, they all of course profess their alliance to a Spirit group, but that was where the similarity ends. Those of God tend to shine in the most difficult of circumstances; didn’t they realize, that when those who believe are at their weakest, God is at His strongest. Humility, they never understood the meaning of the word, amen.

 

Mind Porn

Sounds like the title of a book, Solomon listened to some, ideas grabbed off the internet, another loud mouth, the do’s and don’t of this and that, as if we didn’t know already, where are your children getting their ideas from. A friend plays a clip from a podcast, this is good, you have to listen, he heard it thirty years before, I suppose when the children are not doing the funny images thing, they switch over to a reasonable sounding voice, in order to fool the parents, so that’s what you are watching son. Solomon was reflecting on the covid epidemic, the world is turned over in a matter of days, the call to change, the environment begins to show signs of recovery, the air a little cleaner, meanwhile an asteroid misses the planet by inches, which would have totaled us all.

A new world, and quickly, Moses came back from the Holy Mountain, with the proverbial guarantee, God is with us he sighed, his heart full of joy, we have been saved. From a distance, he see’s the glittering statue, no no, he cries, they are back to their old habits, what have they done. Solomon sighed, we are in that sort of zone, we don’t want to repeat that again.

Saint Patrick, an ode to Yeats, Behan, Oscar wilde, and a host of others, the sages of the past…..

 

This is pulled from the archive, it’s the National day of Ireland, so in these times of trial, lets reminded ourselves all, of the struggles we have all got through….

 

The world is beautiful, Have you ever thought about it, the world that is, is it not beautiful in places. We call those places national parks, so many miles of ocean across all frontiers, touching each other in special places the way the sun used to be, and still is in those extra special spaces, now we get burned frozen or flooded instead, except of course for those special places, and the bank manager we wish him dead, the women and their faces we can’t stop looking, the hours spent grooming their façade well look at TV no frowns allowed can’t you tell, a little perfume on the hips lipstick on the lips, as mothers seek safe refuge to build a nest as well, then an heirloom arrives the result of love so they said, children of course keep on watching and waiting, it’s a show they’ve already heard, Disney shows written by old pro’s words they use children in the viewfinder, they used to call it inspiration, today they ration the dead, literally and bury them live on TV, I won the lottery the dredge is no more, no smart opinions to get high on, pure doesn’t give you headaches, it kills you instead, don’t tell Santa he said.
But it’s a pity really, having tossed so much of our future away, the consequence of pure greed that the poorest will pay for instead, they’ve cut back the bird crumbs this week I heard, poor crow, shot at three times dived bombed by a sparrow hawk, a busted wing he hung on, two miles up the road and he’d be fed, earthquake on the TV, the world is falling apart, live on TV of course, you’ve guessed it CNN they are the first to call to help, world latches on cameras roll on carelessly, footage is worth more when you’re dead, no point saving the sick across the world, cant get them together like a Spielberg movie, we’ll rely on old footage. Isn’t the world beautiful he said, the luck of the Irish they always said it was worth waiting for, amen. He said if they gave up the drink, shur they could do anything, well…

The Words of Jesus

warnings, teachers who criticize not encourage, the strain, erecting barriers, that few overcome, admonishing, those who question their  ways, crucified, murdered, ostracized,  the inquisition, an excuse to murder, harming the word of God, color, race, creed, building hatred, more, a reason to distrust, amen.  The demons, so long in control, now face their horizon, their end, Amen.

#

Fear Madonna, fear jolie, add a few more  brand names, will stick in the memory, well we will recall, heard it so often, they could be selling ketchup, not that it matters, only that it sticks, amen.

How fear is sowed into the heart, the mistakes of the past, those you are told, you will never overcome. the axe that hangs over your head, the the arrival of the virus, puts everything else into the shadows,  a world reborn, more haste, the sooner the better amen.

Solomon sighed; how many had laid down their lives, for a better world to come. The demon was looking over the precipice, your destiny mate, a child, as light as a feather, says high, over he goes, the demon, along with his multiple of followers, amen. We wont miss you.

Many millions of lives later, the human race had built up the Spirit, a Spirit able to contain the Heavenly Spirit, what a wonderful thought, amen.