Emeute, Civilizations and Victor Hugo….

You can have petty arguments that blow up into full scale revolutions, the harm you think your putting an end to, only to realize later the bigger hole you have built for yourself, thereby the merry go round of harm spins faster, the eye for an eye mentality that so many hold so dear, ends up destroying happiness and causing even more harm everywhere, the very goal you had when your started your emeute, as Victor Hugo would say, an end to it. Retaliate, how we hear those words, we have to avenge ourselves, we have to get even, we will lose face, how many wars were started with that mindset, nations and tribes emotionalized to the point of frenzy, while the voices of reason were drowned out.

Solomon sighed, it was refreshing to hear the comparative remarks of Donald Trump, who decided not to avenge the so called hurt caused in the Arabian Gulf, be it a blip, be it a bonfire started by a child, two tribes didn’t go to war, and reason was used, when the expected response didn’t occur. Emeute, struggles that can be solved without blood shed, you just have to listen.

Solomon was reading the literary classic of Victor Hugo, pages of rhythm, written 150 years ago, explaining how the world had to learn from it’s past. Many years later, after so many social changes, the core of the book, still holds. Hugo, Thanks for making the effort, amen. Having encountered the Spirit, Solomon had his own reasons for listening; we are under the Holy Radar, what a great feeling, amen.

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It’s a matter of time….

The trouble is it never changes, the same things happen over and over, Amo is listening  to his friend, they are enjoying a coffee at a favorite coffee shop. The two friends are mulling over the times, they are near their end, it’s a matter of time Amo says. His friend smiles, the two of them are not what they were, the limbs are worn, and the eyesight is fading, but they have been friends a long time. They are discussing the end of days, not theirs, that’s a given, its the new world to come that excites them. A lot of new voices are rising up, and there has been many signs, as written in the books of old. Could it be true Amo says, he is excited. The second plane landed on the water, and all survived, the names in the press have an ancient heritage to them, there are changes going on in places no one could have considered, and a TV character is now the president of the United States.

His friend smiles, his head leans left, a smartly dressed young woman passes, just out of his age range by fifty years, Amo leans left too, those were the days, then adds, that New Guy too, at least he’s got serious medical help. Another young woman passes, her head at an angle to the ground, bent over, she is reading her phone, how does she do that without falling over. Amo laughs, it’s good just being able to walk.

Solomon sat at another table, the conversation wagged his ears, he wasn’t spying, he was learning. A matter of time, Ezra said it, or was it the angel, when the time comes, the birthing process begins, a serious of signs, the soft warnings, then it gets closer. It reminded him of a spiral. A matter of time, why not invest in Spirit, he sighed. Given the changes going on, the human race could do with more credit in those hidden places, it’s a matter of time.

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.

Wisdom

Rules, we were made to break them, improve on them if you like, so the young assistant listens to the old man, rules, it was her middle name, the fear of getting it wrong, and the paralysis it creates. She was trying to appease the old man, they get diddery don’t they. She mixes the drink with the clotting agent, his swallow is difficult, the muscles don’t have the same dexterity, she assumes he doesn’t want to choke. Where are you from he asks, then he said, I like your accent.

I come far from here she says, her accent east European. She spoons in the thickening agent, and passes him the cup of tea.  He sips with difficulty. Her hand takes his shoulder, leans him forward, makes it easier. He swallows easier. I like your accent madame he says with a smile, so you have traveled too she imagines. You didn’t tell me where you are from, he says, he is smiling at her. why would anyone be interested in where she came from. She remembers her mother, her father, those left behind, inside she sighs, thinking of them, and the struggle they made in order to give her the freedom to travel. Wisdom he smiles, as if he could read her mind. Don’t be afraid to ask he says, with a smile.

The Great Affair

What do you mean, he is having an affair, they look at each other, then they look at her, their stare is accusing, you mean you could not hold him, as if it’s her fault he is off with another. She feels their accusing stares, they are supposed to be supporting me, their her original family after all. She raises her eyes, he was so charming, and didn’t he help them all financially, bought their loyalty, what had he said to them behind her back. Who can resist him, his reputation is so high, even the Pope likes him, and did he know how to use it, reputation.

She has mixed feelings, families are supposed to support each other, why are they supporting him, has he poisoned them too, why me. She gave him children, set aside her ambitions, she thought it was a life long commitment, then she sighs, she was attracted to his sneaky ways, how clever she thought as he regaled her with the office politics, she thought he was sharing with her, no secrets she thought, what a blessing to have.

He leaves her, not that he tells her, emotionally he is gone, has a long term plan, had all along, the children would get older, he’d become more interesting, other friends, well, we all have to grow up, snide remarks, getting fat, she thought he wanted her to loose weight, well, try having children and remaining in the same figure, better chance asking Houdini how he did it. In despair she leaves the meeting, is alone in her car, her thoughts are all messed, she is even thinking the inevitable, maybe that was his plan all along.

He will sympathize with her family, they will all say a few words, and will make up, grief does that, unites, ask any terrorist or extremist group, they all use the emotions. A car passes her by, driving too fast she says, she slows, gathers her thoughts. You’ll get yourself killed she says to herself. Back in her self, she notices the signs, there are bill boards, insurance, money advice, then in big bold letters, Need Help, she see’s a smiling Jesus, eyes wide open, inviting her, she recalls when she was a child, how the family got together and prayed, happier times, her father being a man of Great Spirit. He will never let you down he used to say, her father that is.

The meeting is an invitation, she decides to attend, and in that moment, her heart begins to change, she regains control of her senses, a voice tells her, it’s going to be okay. The Greatest affair in her begins, and the choice is one she can never regret, old friends are best, amen.

Solomon sighed, pity those who use the reputation of God to get ahead and don’t live up to it. The world was changing fast, and the signs were on bill boards all across the sky, an addict could not ignore them, amen.

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….

Old Hungry Tired

He looks at the weary old dog, she served him well, was a companion for many years, and always a friend, watched over the children, was wary of strangers, and wasn’t afriad to growl when necessary. attentive, she is old now, her limbs are not the same, as you get old they wear out, limps mostly, but he has an extra cushion for her near the fire, she will live out her days with honour and care.

Solomom sighed, so many old and lonely, men and women, out of the spotlight, out of mind, same as those news stories, once the channel changes, quickly forgotten. The leaders of the world, had they a conscience, they will complain when their dinner is cold, send back the slightly over cooked beef, make a big show of whose boss, while leaving so many elderly, many whose pensions were stolen by their friends, to their own fate. 25 trillion off shore, there has to be a remedy for this.

Solomon encountered the “Spirit”, the heavenly help, had the words, was told to write.  So many old hungry and tired, so many economies stolen from, while the off shore havens, bag the cash, the diva’s worry about their make up, the voices sound off about all that is wrong, speak of their love for Jesus, well, it was time to show it, amen.

Solomon recalled scripture, when did you know me Jesus said,

“when you took care of those less forunate than yourselves, those in need, when you were compassionate, that is when I Know who you are….”