Real Fasting

No sad eyes, no shook looks, no outer signs, just be kind, be good to those who do you harm, piety and prayer is useless if you abandon the poor, amen.

Advertisements

The Escape Route

She reached for the bourbon, drops two clicks into the glass, a few pills in her palm, she is used to them, taking them a long time, her head goes back, the tablets then the jack, she swallows hard, a good night sleep, she hasn’t had one of those in years. The TV is playing, the current offering does not suffice, she plays with the buttons like she was throwing dice. An old movie, she was young when they first saw it together, her eyes well up, the tears will flow, a combination of self pity, and love long lost. Years ago she had the chance, she chose the career over the chance, that love finally found her. Successful in all respects, the trappings are not a problem, the garden is perfect, does she give out about it, usually after a late night of booze, otherwise she is quite calm, till the night comes. She can build, she can encourage, she can motivate, but there is no escaping the hole in her heart.

Solomon sighed, Love has to be a flow, same way a plant can’t live in damp marshy soils, apart from a very few. In the world that attempted to own everything, including our genes, there was no ownership for love, only a responsibility for it’s safe delivery to the next. Many folks had troubles, everyone, some went deep, some went into despair, it was how you dealt with it, decided it all, the escape route. Building walls around your troubles, was only a delay.

 

Am I Doing it Right He asks….

Am I doing it right, he didn’t need to ask, the results did the talking, the child was bursting and smiling, his head at his shoulders, turned back, eyes gleaming, giving everyone who passed, a smile and a gaze, put them in a good mood, apart from frighten them maybe. A three year old driving a car,

 

the child would never forget it, and would have them in circles, despite the challenges, the coldness of the heart, suddenly defrosted, it was impossible not to be happy. The zealots were on the rack for this , as it brought out a smile from the heavens, and an awful lot more, this he was certain of. Their fate their ignorance, so be it, amen, mind those walkers kid, am I doing it right he asks?

 

Solomon was putting the angels in the breach; few children put a smile of such proportions on the boss’s face and everyone else in the vicinity. And since then they played snakes and ladders, intentionally trying to curb his spirit

, not his, but the Holy Spirit, Solomon wondered, the demon must have been fairly desperate, to even attempt such a thing, and fooled many into believing him, it’s what demons do he supposed, amen.

 

In the name of the Holy One, and only that, could mountains be moved, if you believed? He’d seen storms turn around, saw what was deemed impossible, amen.

He’d the scars to remind, and he would be always in debt for it, rescued so often, not that it enriched him, he could have, but held out to the end, and the end was eternity, something’s are worth waiting for, not many, but when it rustles the heart as well, it is hard to disagree with it, and

 

who’d disagree when you had it, the approval from on high.

Artists Artists Artists.. United?

He has something to say, you should listen to him, she has a new voice, listen, artists, the small child has words he wants to say, he’s a child no one listens, why. Artists, the great global consciousness, well that was the way it was supposed to be, the collective thoughts contained in their works, be it sculpting, writing poetry, long stories, canvas, all filled with need, their heads and the hearts, pouring into the world their thoughts; man, I wanted to hear those words, they mean something, artists, and what happens, or more important, what is it that this all means. Consciousness, awareness, the need to show, the necessity to open hearts to new pathways.

What in affect happens; down through the centuries, anyone who harboured thoughts that conflicted with the dogma of the ruling class of the day, usually thwarted, unless they had the patronage of the same people, and when some made a break through, difficulty is what they found, resentment caused, labels applied, unwell, not one of us and so on, unless the general populace loved them and defended them.

Solomon was reflecting, there were so many issues, so many you’d be lost in the haze. He read about the difficulties the traditional sources of comfort were having; loss of personnel, message not being absorbed, loss of connection, and so on. In relation to divine enthusiasm, if you based your “art” or “vocation in life”, on the connection overhead (Solomon encountered Holy Spirit, the real one, was saved a few times), a power that hit the peaks at the time of Jesus, you would assume you’d hang onto the connection, not by cheating, but by incorporating the principles in your life. If talent dries up, maybe it’s time for a career change, rather than go fishing for others talents, those less organised as they say; otherwise their divine connection blurs then dies.

Solomon was comparing the times of Jesus Christ, the threats that he had to overcome, the weakness of the believers in the face of miracles, and the regular threat, same today as then, of the already organised machine that controls so many lives. At a time when there has been so many signs, and they are on the way, everyday in fact, the danger of speaking up, saying it as it needs to be said, simply, be brave.

Artists, avenues for thoughts to disperse; there has never been a more needy time for them. Your job won’t matter if the toxic dump leaks into your water supply; and the environment for your children won’t change into positive territory, until you make the effort to improve things; leaving it to your leadership, is the same as waiting for Godot.

Remember Neda

Featured Image -- 1110228057

Gun violence was in the news, the school children causing a riot, stirring up the temperature, putting themselves on the line, they can’t shoot children they thought. Neda, the young woman shot during the Iranian Revolution, it’s Easter, Solomon remembers.

The camera rolls while her life ebbs away, let the cameras’ roll, make my life count for something, she gasps reaching for air, knowing that very shortly she would be taking her last. Solomon imagines the last minutes of Jesus, the prisoners by his side asking questions, what sort of question would Neda have asked.

With her last few breaths, all she wants, is for the world to be aware of what is going on, the lives being stolen, the imprisonment of a nation, let the camera roll she says, then dies. So her spirit is taken up to Heaven, she meets old friends, deceased relatives, friends, then she spots Jesus, what would she say;

“they were not allowing us to live, enjoy beauty, it was as if these men were afraid of themselves” she says

“I know I know” he says with a smile on his face. he is glad she is there, there is a lot of explaining to do.

“It happened all over the place, they just enjoyed the control of women, that’s it!” he sighed, before adding;

“you give them a little power and they are soon addicted”

She rises her eyebrows, that’s it she thought, they were addicted to control right from the start.

Neda, young lady of the revolution, gave her life, made full use of it, amen.

IMG_5507

Yesterdays News

No one can actually remember, except those who make the news that are in the news, because they decide this is the news. A nuclear statement hardly creates a ripple, the famines in Africa, before our eyes, on account of the charities working there,

don’t exist at all, well who can blame them, the head is so loaded these days, what is really in it.

She is young and impressionable, has never had much respect, lives on the fringe, deemed unhealthy on account of the neighborhood, of course she is excited, first time she tried the stuff, and does it make her feel good, the buzz the energy the way she can forget, it’s all positive for the few hours she parties, who can blame her, it’s life.

She gets kudos, she is dealing a little, has standing with her friends, and she likes it. A step up from being a nobody, cause she has extra cash and the promise of a good time, it’s just the way it is. A real threat to society the authorities say, they plan a big coup, they are going to swat them out, maybe pick up a little credibility, a perk of the action.

In the news, the story of the bust, she will get a probation being a first timer, but the story will be read, told you so she was trouble, same way yesterdays news is trouble, cause all you do is forget it. Who wants to know!.

Solomon was reading the ancient scriptures, and they spoke of a Great Spirit, a spirit that could live in us, a Spirit that could stand up to the dark energy, and it also healed. It was yesterdays news in many, but it was only yesterdays news, an account of so many not wanting to hear it, amen.

Encouragement

I went in his house and sat down. I was a stranger. And he took it upon himself To make me feel comfortable. He did. Just a feel good moment.

via I Was A Stranger — The Chatter Blog