Rhythm and News, take a break, listen to music, be prepared to relax..

The affirmation of old scripture is a great comfort in all truth, affirms what was said so long ago, holds true, can’t be doubted, gives greater meaning to the eternal promise, and the other stuff, in a nutshell you are not alone, so don’t feel lonely.

Jesus didn’t do piety, he did truth, was affronted by those who claimed piety and thought they were better than others, recoiled at them, in fact, no Spirit could live with that, same as a father who imposes rather than allows dialogue, the bully factor as some would call it, no time for it. yes, and time proves this to be true, so many voices silenced, in all sorts of ways, bribes, flattery, and the other ways, no one wants to hear about ,enough said about that.

Time for a music break, sometimes you have to close the eyes and simply relax, without having to pay for it.

 

Something to learn from, not that tactics are not used, an ongoing thing, getting to the belly of the matter, we all understand that bit, there is no confusion there, the state of the environment,  sack the planners as they say, the news is full of it, there are plenty of remote Islands for them, let them toy with ignorance out of harms way, did we mention, many red faces there, words to inspire us with, but being Tuesday, it’s a good start.

A reflection of sorts, the ongoing assault going on in places, those that came before us would cringe at, and would simply not believe, they would in fact not have been able to consider it, but in the very modern world and the emphasis on all things networked, who has time for anything else. Very few indeed, amen, as for those who were fooled into believing they were doing good, many events and places come to mind, maybe they were pawns, just being used, not so unusual, well, the promise of success is a great drug.

So what it if offends God, hasn’t been about, what is there to worry for, then they see the light, oops…. How will you explain that, stuck for words I imagine, never stuck when you were seeking what you wanted, the other way around, can’t put a sentence together, what’s surprising about that, after all, there is God Most High, the unplanned, we didn’t put that into our calculations, the extremists are beginning to realize this, smile, this is a great news story, brilliant, actually, so real, it leaves you awe struck most days, but you have to remain grounded, if you know what I mean.

No one laughs as they used to, the old full belly buster, it’s easy to see a few of those coming, now that all that withheld tension can be released, imagine it, a symphony of good feelings,  the righteous win the day, just as it’s supposed to be, amen.

 

 

You’d hardly expect to be misled in the circumstance would you!

 

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Impossible

Getting off your ass, saying goodbye to your friends, then waiting to be shot, on the orders of some despot sitting in a office somewhere, unbelievable, you could not write it, let alone imagine it. He slits the bag of powder, sticks in the tasting tool, tries to figure the potency, then smiles, agrees the price, great shit he says, putting down the small tool in his hand, the money is passed over, everyone is happy, business done, the powder delivered. A crime spree, the addicts can’t pay for it otherwise, it’s not fancy, it’s not a mansion behind closed doors, it’s not cool, but it ought to be legalized in some way, well, they chemical concoctions are unlimited and can’t be legislated for, impossible, the contents of the concoction are not in the legislation, so the lawyers say, the ones who come up with the rules.

Solomon sighed, he wasn’t frigid mentally, didn’t scoff the green, was glad to indulge, liked to get free of the world, so much stuff they go around with in their heads. They all carry baggage even if they don’t admit it, no one can fool the almighty. How simple he sighed, had they even heard of the intention of the law, not what was written, same applied to ancient scripture, a guide to the traveler, not the actual journey. One day, it’s a stream, that is what you are, impossible to believe, well try it first, before you give out.

Zombies rise from the trenches of the first great war, one after another, they walk into the metal barrage and fall dead, on top of each other, whose great plan was that. All these years later, only the arms manufacturing industry, the only industry that got the benefit, worth trillions, it has to start somewhere.

Refugee

Hurry, pack your things, she rushes around the room, there is a window of opportunity, the boat leaves in half an hour, quick Ahmad, what about my football, I will buy you a new one, hurry, she is desperate to get out of the place, a  chance in a lifetime, hopefully, her sister is after saving her, a friend in Paris is after getting her a seat with one of the traffickers, the boat leaves Tripoli in half an hour. Passports, in the trunk, she digs around, there is so much she will have to leave behind, Ahmad looks as his mother, she is in a panic, is there something wrong, his face is covered in a frown, and despair, where are we going, she has him by the hand, you didn’t look the door, she pulls him along, what about my friends, you will have new ones, hurry, it’s a ten minute walk to the beach, be there at nine they won’t wait, her sister knows the people in Paris, this is not a scheduled flight from New York or London, no family holiday, this is the exodus, no time for ceremony or bread making, there is no time, hurry Ahmad, she pulls him along.

the Harbour comes into view, her breathing eases, she pauses, looks around, her walk slower, and you will have a game boy too, his little eyes light up, really, her smile widens, yes, so be good. He dreams the next few steps, he will have his own team, up to now he has to use his friends, I am going to become a man. There is a group on the boarded quay, there is the hum of the engines, a voice shouts from somewhere, hurry up, we have to leave now.

I’m alma De salma, the boarding clerk checks the register, last minute he says, gives her a smile, you have friends, she smiles. The remaining passengers are loaded, an open boat, forty foot, the waters are calm, they will transfer to a bigger boat when out to sea. The engines throb, the boat moves. Ahmad, his first time on a boat, he holds her hands tight. There is silence aboard, they are all taking a great risk, caught, they face detention even worse, to do nothing at all, a life of slavery and death.  Open her up, there is a roar of the engines, the boat is moving fast, the breeze is catching, everyone silent, refugees, hoping for a better life.

The wall has to be built, how else can we keep them out, the head of the company, a white supremacist raises his glass, a toast he says, to the President, long may he live. The dream of authority over all of the earth is getting closer with each waking hour, for the great bread maker. Billions are at stake, the money that can change nations, this is the risk of failure, and the President agrees, we can’t continue with this stream of refugees, they have turned parts of the states into unknown zones, some don’t even speak English, what type of America is this.

The boat is three miles out, there is a light, it is getting brighter, the sister ship is waiting. There is a sigh, the man checking the register, gives out instructions, he tells them what is to happen, does not want them to do anything sudden, doesn’t want them to rock the boat. he pats Ah

mad on the head as he passes, the boy smiles, feels like a pirate in a johnny depp movie. Because we believe he sighs, talking to himself, and they call us traffickers and those who trade in misery, the ivory towers, and those who live in them, what do they know, all they ever do is make bread….

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.

Toxic Waste

Toxic man. nothing worth stealing what do you imagine he, they will do, she raises her nose, it’s out from her face. pointy, as pointy as her narrow mind, they will steal from us, what else do they want she says, he sniggers, a swingers club, both high on speed and coke, he reaches over the bench, it’s a shared situation, you empty into one, then into someone else, satisfaction and thrill, the elite thrill, well it costs a bundle to get in, you have to be seriously perverse, she is a socialite, he’s an aspiring politician, used to be with the clan, till he founded his own hard line group.  Quentin Tarantino, with real life without the flash of the pyrotechnics and the over hype, good old swing time, no talk of global warming, no immigrant nations, no internet, a lot of closed countries, cruel dictatorships and plots, assassinations, eighties america, God a thought, religious groups with control, talks of wars, the right wingers, and the threat from the liberals, toxic waste, dangerous, damn it, they even hate war, have they no idea how to protect the nation, he rages on, his ear against hers, he is carrying on with another socialite, passing on his hatred, some guy.

Don’t you believe in Jesus she says, all giggling, high as a trapeze artist. he reaches and snorts, not unless he has money he laughs and is american. They both break into a furious bout of laughter, I never heard that before she says, her eyes are pins.

Thirty years later, he is a respected politician, well, he bought opinion and reputation, and sided with those who were defenders of the nation, so called. Meanwhile, The heavenly power they assumed never existed, it’s been awhile, is being felt in many places, toxic waste disposal unit, he finds himself in jail, his friends are getting seriously nervous too, they are supposed to, he sold out everyone he knows….

Remove them sighed Solomon and replace them with righteous leaders, amen.

 

Nature and the Human Mind

Can we sell it, well I guess they tried, are there those who try to distract us, what do you think, the two souls are at the zoo, in the bird zone, they are there in response to a question the child answered, it made the old guy laugh, and that does not happen often enough. He was teaching his grandson, trying to make himself useful, after all, the boys mother, his daughter, was providing him, the old man, with the shelter he needed, and if he needed reminding, it was cold outside, he could feel the warm heat, not daring to go outside, so he decided to teach the young child.

“A humming bird is a chick the sings”  smiled the little boy, his eyes turned sideways, he half glances up at his grand dad, wondering what will be the expression in his eyes. It bears a smile as he well knows, but the assurance of having someone older with all the right answers, was and is a luxury few have these days. Grand dad laughs,

“you mean one of those girls on the TV who sing,”

the little boy nods. It’s the days end, mother comes in the door, spots her father teaching her son, he is in good hands. A week later they are at the zoo, all because of the sweet little humming bird.

Nature sighed Solomon, there was a need for a greater awareness, the numbers didn’t lie, he thinks of the boy and the hummingbird, when they get it young, it always pays off.

Music for Well Being

The day opens, in the Kitchen, the children come down to eat, there is tension, the argument the night before, the air is thick, you want the place to yourself, stuff is going around your head, and the silence does not help. Fighting the inner demon, you shout off your mouth too often, booze perhaps, you don’t want to admit it, since he walked out on you and the kids it’s not the same, the letter in the post and the imminent divorce hearing, the children heard the screams you made, trying to stay afloat in a very emotional world. The grief counselor advised you to try new things, the children will have to get used to a new surrounds, but you can’t let go, then you remember the old times, it was good, music in the morning, you had them humming in the car. Putting the kettle down, you reach for the radio, the delay as you put your finger on the on button, you don’t want to hear the music you all listened to as a family, when is father coming home, the call, what a heart break, you are in tears every time they say those hard words, worse than a death, he is loving someone else.

 

The music comes on, the children bob their heads in tandem, the anger seems to let go, you watch them, what did they do to deserve this breakdown in their life. You think, you forget the hurt, you feel the need in front of your eyes, later you read the papers, you begin to see through immigrant eyes, cause isn’t that what we all are, seekers.

Solomon sighed, he had a dream, the child without a parent, the small boy calling out for his father, someone to sort it out, the same needs all over the globe, the feeling of security, someone you can discuss your emotions with, without fear. The so called experts can only plan for failure, when things go wrong they come up with the answers, never before, always later.  Too much for many, the tyrants the same experts support are causing a flood of people on the move, of course they give the well spun answers, while the UN hide, well, it takes so much time to get it organised they say, same as the plight of Palestine, a concrete heap, where children become scarred with hatred. With the signs in the sky, they better get active sighed Solomon, amen.

Meanwhile, breakfast becomes a new musical festival every day, the joy returns, each one of you has their own playlist, and inside you begin to shine.