The Book of Numbers

The little black book, the names and numbers, your codex for life, those you want contact with, then you have the secret book, the one with details of all that is wrong, you roll the finger on the contact list, what can they do for you, who will you contact today, bored or a random selection, the real conversations you have, the frothing mouth as you think there is going to be something in it for you. It’s amazing what used to get our juices flowing, the drama, the rubber necking, did someone die in that accident, did he really have all that money, thinking numbers, but really only wishing they were yours. Human nature sighed solomon.

A mute point, Solomon was reading the book of numbers, and every time he looked, he reads the list, the items taken along for the journey, the responsibility of each clan, where they were to stand in the procession of the lords presence and tent, every dot measured, even how you deal with family issues, in a world dedicated to the Lord your God, and the promise of proctection and care for those who were considered good guardians of the Lords Earth.  why was there such detail recorded, surely it wasn’t to amuse us, it had to be a method of teaching us. So here we are, thousands of years later, at a time when much of the old scriptures is coming to pass. Imagine your name in the book of the living, the promise of eternity, then your name in book of the dead, and the promise of eternal destruction. It’s wise to be mindful in these times, amen.

Solomon encountered the Spirit, the One God Sends, and found he had been endowed with a few gifts, and the challenge was, how do you use them; do you seek gain for yourself or do you cast your hopes wide and try to include others, the choice. it’s as simple as that. Do you do what the rebellious israelites did at the time of Moses; Moses goes away to worship and talk with the Lord, meanwhile a few loud mouths encourage the Israelites to worship and offer sacrifices to Demons, out of a feeling of security, maybe Moses is not coming back. Imagine Moses, full of the light, happy, got the approval he sought, and proctection for his, the Lords people, imagine the plans he had in mind, happy and full of joy, same as the feeling you might have if you won a new car, and there it sits in the drive, you smile, the smell of the new leather seats, what a joy. Then the local thug next door arrives and produces a sledge hammer, and attempts to demolish the car, your Joy. Well, There is Moses, open your eyes, he spots them from afar, gets closer, has a panic attack, what are they doing, worshipping Gold, an idol, what have they done, and 23,000 dropped dead in the desert, as Moses anger was felt by the lord. As Jesus would say, listen fast if you have ears and you want a share in the world to come, amen.

The Friday Rush…

Quick, have to get out, clear the desk, what, you want me to run late, Friday, the office, the weekend ahead, there is work to do, a parent or a singleton, there is only so much time for you to achieve all the stuff that needs doing ,come on, you don’t seriously expect me to work on this, he studies the paper folder, it’s for the boss she says, he knows what that means, initiates in the club, the rise in the ranks, depending on the others, he buries his head in his desk, the weekend can wait.

Maybe, damn, why did I choose this career, he is reading and correcting the text, checks his watch every five minutes, wonders, how late will be, has rang ahead, but still, she is not sure, he wants to get there before anyone else, what If she meets someone else, he presses the buttons, turns the page, six more left, he breathes deep, if wasn’t the reason he wanted to be a professional, a lawyer, he assumed the opposite, free time.

The evening is gone, he has cancelled his life for the evening, Saturday will do, the dream will have to wait, he can blame the Friday rush. She is on the train to home, a two hour commute, it doesn’t bother her, gives her a chance to catch up on me time, she scrolls the phone, those she hasn’t had contact with in awhile, she’ll give them a hello, its important to remain in touch. Saturday belongs to the children.

Rush here, busy, too tired, jaded, had enough, the pills don’t work, damn, the days, your getting older, the night isn’t over, what am I doing it all for, it’s not doing my health any good, and the only friends I meet are online; she feels like a processed fish, amen.

Solomon sighed, Friday, the world slows, friends get to know each other, the memories that hold you together, at least your not alone. It was simple if you believed and no rush. The rain stopped, the calm came, the prayers are answered, there are smiles on faces, there is the sense of divine intervention, what’s all the Friday rush for, relax…he was digging into his eggs Benedict afternoon treat, with the best Hollandaise sauce he ever tasted, the world does not exist outside when your engrossed in such flavors.

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.

What Unites Us?

The lowest common denominator, sounds like a math question, what is the lowest common denominator, heard it in math class, we are doing adding and subtraction, the teacher is adding a little flare, all the eyes are on the board, the children are small, they all are keen to answer, get it right. No one is being bullied, there are no security guards at the school gates, and parents are not paranoid either, what used to unite us you ask. Well, the mobile, our wealth, the car we drive, where we live, are we rich or poor. Solomon sighed, it was so simple for Jesus, his words were so simple too. God is inside you, seriously, the guys are looking at him wondering is it for real, the women like him, he actually listens, doesn’t size them up or put them down, what unites us, it was so simple, so simple, deeds.

So many distractions, and when it all comes down to it, we are just experiences, some of us exude light, some of us dark, the energy that surrounds us, how simple is that. When we share, we don’t have to worry that much, we can’t be fished, watch the bird soar, who taught it how to fly, yeah, it’s that simple, so what unites us?

The Heat is on….

Pressure, the time to choose, opinions and the principle, the esteem of friends, their words got him elected, now he is their pawn, they were using him all along, you will make a great speaker, people like the sound of your voice, why don’t you get yourself selected, we’ll help of course, the journey he recalls.

He is old now, the early words of pride, they hit him at the right time, at a low ebb, he needed a lift, the work he was doing created walls, he had to lift all the time, then they came and helped him, his so called friends. The first favor was a small ask, just reduce the size of the green area, we can put up more houses instead, he shrugged, didn’t seem much he voted for a new health center to ease the guilt, and they came again, then he wouldn’t budge, the day it all went wrong, the heat was on. No, no he said, that is a step too far, I am not going to promote the casino, the trouble is will cause, can’t you put it somewhere upstate, they nodded no, their lawyer steps forward, Sorry to have to do this John, he opens the envelope lays in on the table, the images are stark and clear, he coughs puts his glasses on, Atlantic City has never been the same since, the heat was put on.

He is eighty plus, years have passed, he has grandchildren, he can’t let them find out, it would ruin them, their careers, his credibility would be in the thrash, how is he going to keep it all intact, they have crucified others, now they want to buy his son, his

replacement.

Solomon sighed, the league of demons, they never give up, they worship the price tag and nothing else, if only they would listen, heavenly Spirit was pouring out, signs from the Great Father of Heaven and Earth, their demon counterparts in those places, had lost, the Spirit was free to roam to places they never expected, there was no need for the righteous to worry, the heat was on the demons and no one else.

Sex Scandals

Seems we can’t get enough of it, papers full of it, Hollywood planing to make pictures of it, (a biography!), money has no friends just plenty of enemies. The Flight to the Asian paradise is nearing completion, they look at their watches, the boys smile, bird time. A case of the bird flew again. At least this time they bought plenty of the stuff that keeps you clean. Sex scandals, young, online, the couch, the daily drive to tempt you. Solomon didn’t think God Most High had the ear of the so called pious. No, the ear of the honest, at least you know what to expect, the truth.

How many times, how many different positions, what was on their minds. The stuff we tune our ear to, and the stuff we conveniently forget. Solomon sighed, now that GMH, God Most High was alert and the Spirit grew in strength

, he imagined help arriving from all sorts of places, amen.

Old Times – a re blog

TV Land My favorite Westerns When I was very young We had no TV A radio is all we had I remember this to be. We all gathered around And listened to the Jack Benny show And popular songs we sang along At least the ones we know. Then […]

via TV Land My favorite Westerns~by rldubour — OUR POETRY CORNER

Run Run Run

Shrieking, screaming, shattered emotional woman runs down her long drive, her petunias have been stolen and her life has been destroyed. Mobile in hand she phones the police, they are private, they arrive in minutes.

Mrs B, what is wrong, one of them asks. He puts an arm on her shoulders, comforts the lady, “so what is the matter Mam,”

my petunias, my petunias she points, to the hole in the ground, they are gone. Her award winning flowers, the ones she was going to enter in the show (be dramatic).

Five minutes away, a child lies hungry in the Ghetto. so much for Mrs B’s petunias, amen.

Patrice Mulumba

The Idol

She gushes, he is her hero, she plays his music, listens to the words, they have meaning, he has a good writing partner, it’s not him, he just relays the music, a fountain of creativity, no, just a mouth piece who can sing, does that sound cold.

Solomon imagined, what the words meant, there are no idols, there is simply One Loving God, that’s the deal. She is in tears, her idol got married the other day, and is going to have children with a different woman, not her. Millions will be devastated, but after a good cry, they will find another idol, and worship him instead.

Jesus, words of wisdom, don’t put your idols on platforms or stands, why, (humour), in all probability, they will leave you for someone else.

The Great Flood

What’s great about a flood, every ancient and not so ancient generation, have experienced one, Solomon was being vague. You speak in riddles some say, he sighs, sometimes it easier than saying it straight, it’s less offensive for starters, but talk of floods, he experienced a few himself, and learned. The talk across the world was of the sexual disease that seemed to attack almost anyone with a semblance of power. A new story, another victim, another story, another and than another, to a point when it is all they can think of, sexual crimes. The last thing the world needed to hear, another victim, another big name hits the dirt, the press is foaming at the mouth, in newsrooms they glance at each other, what about bob, what about john, what about the 300,000,000 under tens with access to the adult web, the real flood they all ignored. It was simple math, the Spirit is a living heart, real living heart, and the young hearts carry the hope, they have soul, meanwhile, while the adults rage and tell their stories, this flood is ignored, as if it wasn’t happening. It is easy get distracted, and human nature was forgetful. 50 million die in the last great war, all of them victims, a flood of evil forgotten.

The demon and his ilk were glad to have the focus on the current imbalance, while the real flood continued unabated, as if there was nothing the could do about it. Solomon sighs, he wrote is a long time before, the simplest of solutions. Then a friend shows him the dark web as it it called, a zone off the main internet alley, where security allows anything to be traded, and it’s all legal, someone was fooling an awful lot of people. Say the prayer he sighed, it usually worked to halt the evil threat.