as Old as rare gold….

 

Your not supposed to look at the legs, it’s why we are sacking you Mr Smith, what am I going to tell Mavis, Mavis being his girl, well, 89 she is an old girl. Jimmy Smith, her nephew, young and naive, didn’t read the new regulations, no looking at girls in the office anymore, it’s offensive, he’s not impressed, what will I tell Mavis. There is no one else he can tell, and she is deaf.

Her head is shrunk, the skin is tight, old age has got a hold of her, and her time is near, so she believes, depressed, wanted to do more, the nursing home she lives in, is waking up, another drowsy sleep, she thought all night about the stuff she used to be able to do, in between the screams of some of those inside, it feels like a prison camp, maybe it’s getting old. Don’t forget Mavis, God Most High can do anything, she hears it inside her head, medication.

The door opens, the trolley girl as she calls her comes into her room, a nurse with an assortment of medication. She mixes the tablets with some soft food, open up Mavis, the nurse says, with a hand behind her back, she helps Mavis raise her head, it’s easier to swallow, two spoons, the medication is gone, so is the Trolley girl, doing the rounds

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Old Bones

The door swings open on the bleep, procedures, security at the old folks home, they are afraid of intruders, while the inmates watch the door hoping someone will visit, anyone it seems, the comparison, just a lesson, who we let into our lives, and who we decide is good enough, the human race, old bones in the end. He climbs the stairs, it’s a bright spot, those inside are lucky, well cared for, and it smells fresh, none of the odors you get as you get older, yeah, that stuff, ever wonder why in big cities they have those sweet smells, the council does the perfume routine, and pours it into the underground sewers, how sweet, we are all the same in the end, old bones.

The blip, he enters the room, tired face, years gone by, etched with memory, and as the days close out, the regrets too, Solomon is there to add comfort, not that it will be that much, he knows how to raise the Spirit, and when the Spirit rises, old bones are renewed, the wrinkles turn into smiles, and the old bones are no longer old bones, but a friend again.

He listened to the radio story, the inhabitants of the home, the eyes pointed towards the door, they are hoping for a visitor, but they never come, says the nurse in charge. Solomon sighed, we all fade to some degree, we all get old, we all have memory, and then we become undesirable, well, not as useful as before, old in many cases. Did we not realize the wisdom lying in those beds, and what they can teach us. He takes a deep breath, naive perhaps, but you never dieP1060580 when you continue to learn, even when it came to old bones, amen.

Doubles Dear!

Anyone for tennis, it’s summer, might as well get some exercise, doubles dear, cheaper than the gym, and you are likely to see others, whoever you meet. Stretch the muscles, touch the feet, warm up, it’s not exactly Wimbledon, but you know friends who’ve been there, you promise yourself you’ll visit one year, just to tell the others, that you were there, where ever there is. So many people wear an exterior that bore no relationship to the real self, ask any good homicide detective, the number of psycho’s out there. They can literally smell your fear, cause they have felt it themselves. Like demons, they get to know your habits, can dialogue with you, your hobbies, and the stuff of general interest, in a nutshell, they are living double lives, waiting for opportunity to appear.

The flow of Spirit was an area of intense interest to Solomon, how it is interfered with, the gimmicks used by those of bad intent, hoping to drown or destroy it, in the souls that still had it, those who failed to give up. It was easy to fall in with the power of the day, tell yourself, there was nothing you can do, almost as if you are drowning, just accept it, don’t even try to prevent it. Across the world, there were those vested with Great Spirit, who dealt with the toing and froing of life, the good news and the bad, the opinions of friends, the veritable suitcase of truths, which ones do you choose or believe, or do you pretend. Soaking it up and forgetting it a few minutes later, sounded like good advice, there was no point giving room to gibberish inside yourself, unless it was a comedy you were watching.

He was talking with an old friend, Solomon, that is, be amazed with what Heart Love can do, it brings out the light, it’s that simple. The affirmation arrives again, and again, signs from the heavens, the world is changing, it’s time to be yourselves, the real you, not the doubles partner you pretend to be, amen.

Back Up

Everyone likes having back up, someone to support you, who helps when you are in the corner, simple to understand, the concept of back up. Imagine the all knowing One, full of purpose, who works to hold in balance, all the strings of the universe, imagine the back up. Imagine the Great Spirit, an invisible energy that finds refuge in a body, a resting place, a sanctuary from all the madness, a place where you can reflect and be patient, before making your next move, and then imagine your role within the universe, and it’s simply this; to shed a light on what is hidden from all, in order to bring to attention, to the Great Spirit, a scenario, that might be worth delving into. Then imagine the words of Jesus; don’t panic, you have back up all the time, once you Believe in Love and The Holy words, if you apply it, the back up is automatic, how easy is that.

Solomon sighed, that is the kind of back up that delivers everyday, who needs the other kind. even the cruellest tyrant in the world had back up, come to think of it, every evil had back up, and probably an assortment of lawyers and accountants as well. He hoped they were all able to read the signs overhead, cause they got the back up of the Most Holy, amen.

 

The Small Brunette ….

She wasn’t much to look at, but she had a punch, she was not much to remember, but she had the thoughts inside her, the thoughts that sent you on your way, she was a smart brunette. Solomon sighed, he recalls the happy face, the words of hope, the kindness to others, he met many in his time, but few made an impression on the inside. It was the story of the good wine and the regular stuff, you never forget the good, amen.

As you sit there, older perhaps, tired most days, wondering if you could do more, wishing you had done it different at times, that day, this day, everyday, you got the chance to brighten the day, a thoughtful remark to someone, a simple smile, the small brunette, her’s was a smile worth remembering, amen.

It Wasn’t Us?

Impact, the influence we have on the lives of others, the red carpet is prepared so are the plaudits, the camera’s flash, smile, we are great, wow factor, then to be adored once inside the door, bling pretty clean new, the Kings and Queens of the earth, one day Solomon imagined, they would all have to account for their work.

Anger, a close up, the look in the eyes, the language, so grown up, even if meant for very young ears, well we, in a world that was over booked in terms of violence, those reading the script had a role in the matter too. Solomon watched a documentary, and it wasn’t pretty, gruesome, dark, very human and frightening.

The plans to murder, the old resentment never far from the top, Solomon listened, as locals and militia, joined in the murder of so many Jewish People, neighbors and work colleagues, quickly joining in the slaughter of millions, using the old hatred, and the false propaganda to justify their actions, it wasn’t us.

The child is five, maybe six, has to live in a difficult environment, has no place to turn, is emotionally committed, love is what we are born to, it’s the reason for being for all of us, getting along. Exposed to violence and those gadgets, he finds solace in the game that stops him thinking about, it’s how so many addictions are born.

It wasn’t us, what excuse was that, if you are aware of what is happening before your very eyes. Don’t mention hunger, amen. Imagine, God Most High is real.

Surviving Harvey!

The weather man called, Harvey is on the loose and he is coming after us, scary. Hurricane time, a whiplash of energy, felt in places far and wide. You don’t mean the other Harvey, what, the other Harvey, he sighs:

“that’s as old as the bible almost”

what do you mean by that jack she asks, a hammer in her hand, she is about to batten down the windows, she wants none of Harvey getting in. Another nail should do it, she flicks the hammer, and with new England determination hits it in the head, won’t be able to tear that one.

“what’s as old as the bible” she asks, a little exhausted from her efforts. Can you get me a glass of water dear. Great woman he sighs, she’s been with him for over thirty years, and it still feels like the first time, every day he wakes up. Do you want ice with that, no answer. She’s reading an article from the New York Express, a recent new start up. In it’s efforts to gain readers, it has sensationalized the Harvey Weinstien story, has interviews with thirty of the so called victims, so it claims, much of it made up. But in the aftermath of the scandal that is no surprise, everyone knew since the time of Marilyn what was going on, from President Kennedy to Sam the mafia head.

“be nice to the man honey he can make your career” advice the agents give regularly, to their new clients list when it comes to interview

This is terrible she says, as he places the glass on the reading table beside her. Her fingers are drumming up and down on the hammer, playing an imaginary tune.

“it all goes back to the way women were described all those years ago, even the fundamentalists take advantage of this, the religious fundamentalists that is.”

She shakes her head, what do you mean she asks. Is she being naive he wonders, he smiles. He knows her too long, she just loves hearing explanations and how it all ties in with the past.

“woman is the servant of man, and must do what the man asks”

who said that she asks.

Marriage rules of old dear, glad you are a twenty first century woman dear.

But that is the opposite to what Jesus said about it, he said men and women were equal, how did so many get it wrong.

That’s my point darling, don’t blame Harvey, it’s purely old habits passed on. This is going to be a gold fest for lawyers everywhere from what I am reading.