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….

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24 Seven Care in a 365 day world…

 

Imagine your old, unable to do it for yourself, in need, walking a difficulty, eating a scary feeling, you can’t chew that well, the risk of food getting stuck in your throat, not forgetting the medication, a number of conditions, from heart beat to sleep, you need the basics, just to get through the day, then remind yourself, all the news chasers, responding to isolated reports, the difficulties some elderly live with, then recall the struggle, of those daily providing the caring, cleaning dirty nappies, assisting with toilet, responding to the alarm bells through the night, imagine what it’s like working and living in that world, always trying to be uppity, going room to room, with advice for everyone, doing the chore, being patient while the residents are not so pliable, feeling confined as they are, in their limited life space, would you do those tasks, for 10 to fifteen euro’s or dollars per hour, or would you leave it to someone else.

Imagine it, if we live long enough, we will be all in the hands of the carers; isn’t time to moved it a notch upwards, those menial jobs many deride, cleaning and feeding the elderly, who once were the Kings and Queens of their neighborhoods, just a thought for a Thursday, amen.

And when things go wrong, everyone shouts, we need a lawyer here, not that the residents are going to benefit, well, at least some good came out of it you say, something for yourself of course, hey, we paid good money, doesn’t those words ring bells in your head!

Open Your Heart

Are you listening, are you too absorbed in yourself to hear, is all you hear your own voice, do you wonder when you read the headlines, can you feel the pain that is felt. When you pass a stranger on the street do you nod, acknowledge, do you carry on down the street, have you forgot the  man begging on the street, when is the last time you opened your heart, have you joined one of those perpetual complaint groups, do you smile a snide smile when you see those above you fall, do you take pleasure in the harm others suffer, are you listening. When was the last time you did something off the cuff that was just good, have you practised all those great sentiments you tell others about, or do you hum inside when they listen to your voice, are you a complete airhead, all noise and no substance, well, when did you last open your heart.

I was hurt he said, he was a bastard she said, recriminations,

so I joined a help group instead, and made a career out of it, when you could have opened your heart and did what Jesus did, forgive, even went to the cross to get the point out, don’t bring the baggage with you, it will drown you.

Solomon smiled, the fingers were ripping across the keyboards, well they always did, he didn’t have to make it up, just let your spirit do the talking and watch the magic emerge. Open your heart, there are so many blessings waiting to be poured out, don’t fill yourself with resentment and hatred, we don’t all eat meat, and sushi is interesting, porridge too. We are all made to be different, same as those flowers, and the birds, wake up, amen. He encountered the Great Spirit, the seal of the divine, it is there, you need to clean up the inside and learn to forgive, amen. Open your heart. If another does you harm, relax, God settles all accounts, and with all the outpouring of Spirit, there are many quaking in their boots, believe me, amen, smile, this is just the beginning.

Spirit to Spirit

The interests within, words connect, like friends, burdens are put down, ease of mind, even if the conversation is tense, when the Spirit’s can relax, be true to each other, wisdom is engaged, both are listening. In a narrow minded world, with many narrow minded minds, same way the coronary artery constricts, not enough good exercise, bet you never heard your heart surgeon speak like that before, but it’s a good analogy, whatever, the Spirit relaxes, anxieties are put aside, and when the meeting is over, there is a feeling of being relaxed, how easy it sounds.

The other end of the spectrum, anxiety, wanting, need, fear, leaving you a nervous wreck, planning without knowing it, seeking ways to escape, be it the weekend or what, big difference in the two paragraphs, one leaves you relaxed, the other, stressed.

Solomon prayed to His Father in Heaven, there were extremists hoping to cause anxiety fear and stress, hoping to take advantage of others, remind them Prayed Solomon, that they will have to account for it, he sighs. The wonder of divine intervention, priceless.Featured Image -- 1110230523

50 cents

He spots her from afar, she stands on the corner, she has for days, her appeal a very meek one, pretty and young she is trying to make a living, the paper she offers, a token but a dignified one. Subject to the control of others, her life is one of hardship, no valentine boyfriend, more likely, someone who will abuse you too, this is her lot. Her eyes are tired, they used to sparkle once, as a little child she used to be so bright, little did she know the the difficulties ahead of her. Solomon has noticed her many times, he has his fifty cents, their eyes meet, I wish it could be different he sighs, then walks on.

Flash lawyer, his lifestyle the envy of colleagues, how can he afford it, he is no smarter than the others, and his client list isn’t that special, the underhand payments, the deals, the gaps he found, the gratitude of clients, most preoccupied with poisoning the mind, their gains, theft, nothing to get worked up about, the fifty cent girl is just a toe rag, disposable, and as replaceable, nothing to get worked up about, there are more where they came from.

late night club, the lads are on vacation, they want some R and R, they call to a late night shebeen, from the big city, they want to action before the return to their big town. fifty cent is woken, it’s late in the evening, we have a job for you, she gets up and dress’s quickly, if she doesn’t she will be beaten, and dress in your sexy gear the older man says, his two bucks wait outside, the car is running, the opportunity won’t be around for long. She hopes it won’t be violent. Flash lawyer is joined by his friends, their wives are not that energetic these days, and they don’t want to upset the rhythm of the home, children need a steady mother, and successful men need a good home routine. We are doing it for the kids they tell everyone, when anyone asks, but… fifty cents we haven’t forgot you!

The Coffin Jock

She is a coffin jock, well you never heard an undertaker described in those terms before, did you, the old man is studying a catalog, it’s full of glossy images of coffins. The waiting room in the undertakers is playing mourning music, Vivaldi’s four seasons he thinks, he is not sure, he thumbs the brochure. Mandy is waiting for him to choose his box, the oak Kingdom comes in at 4,000, but it has real silk lining and an air cushioned pillow that is guaranteed to last five years, so the scribble beneath says. He looks over at Mandy, he is a shrewdie, always asks, seeks value in everything.

How can you prove it?

What she smiles

It says here the air cushion is guaranteed for five years, how is that so!

She has the answer ready, she explains. NASA uses long lasting power capsules to ensure the thing, the spaceship stays supported when it loses contact with the home base, our manufacturers have taken a leaf out of their technology and encapsulated it in the power cushion, meaning, you will never have to worry about a good nights sleep once you go under.

Why did I ask he wonders. The previous month, he was at a get prepared presentation, a meeting for those interested in preparing for the end of life, originally supposed to be a lawyers benefit, the seminar being sponsored by a large firm, it was aimed at getting the oldies to take up or update their last will and testament. Old Bill decided he’d smooch along for the fun of it, he’d already left the bulk of his estate to an old folks home, on condition they spent the money, on entertainment services for his old friends, a way of saying thanks to them all. Coffins were far from his mind. A week later he gets the news, good news. At the seminar there was a raffle, and why not, Bill wins it, the prize, a free coffin.

How long have you been a coffin Jock he says, at the end of the brochure, about to close it..

Did I hear right she thinks, did he say coffin jock!

Solomon sighed, so much effort in preparing for the last act and so little effort put into the entire performance, maybe old shaky spear was right, the world is a stage.

Speak Up

Old Diva, years on the boards, giving her all, reminding everyone, we have come a long way, but as her life ebbs and flows, the same Spirit moves on, as new ears listen to the music, hear her emotions as the vocals sing out, don’t put up with it, do something, then the voice slows, while those with ears listen, and those are blind can see, the music of the old lady, created to wake us all up. death is not the end you see.

There was a lot on anger; those in authority were being turned into babbling fools, while those who inspire us are brought to national attention, how strange the workings of the Lord. Aretha, bless her soul.