Young Turk

Hair greased, slicked back, he is not attitude, he does not recognize authority, not of the human kind, his goal is heavenly, has seen his home village destroyed, the pain and trauma, the cheap words of world leaders, after every atrocity,  they have been saying the same thing for years, pass the book, let the next set of leaders take the chance, see how long will they last, meanwhile plan for retirement, and a comfy living, while observing the harm, from all their inaction. Did Jesus say the same, words are great, prayers too, but without love in actions to support, what were you anyway, an empty vessel, a lot of noise and nothing else, as for those long winded applauded speeches, just yellow paper now, faded as the dreams were, the hopes raised that never flew. The Young Turk does not intend to suffer that fate. He is patient, he intends no harm, and will do his thing, he does not want to loose the heavenly connections, that is what has been happening, these last fifty years. The Young Turk has ideas of his own, prays it straight, and when he does, the help always arrives, no fool him.

So many refugees on the move, so many trying to find a home, clean water, it used to be all over the place, why did we have to pour poison into the water; well, the child in rags playing in the rubble, forever hopeful. Solomon sighed, may the schemes of extremism and those who plan such things, implode of the extremists, amen. can’t we just accept we are different at times, amen.

Solomon sighed, he told the health professional a few details of Life in the Spirit, the struggle between the material and eternal life. Well, it’s not easy being a believer sometimes; it puts an onus on you.

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Te Amo

Amo, what are you saying, the old geezer lifts his head, he is old, it’s tough, the muscles are weak, lying on the pillow, not enough exercise, getting older, still wise though, has his faculties. Te Amo, he says, she listens in close, the nurse, what is it your trying to say, she leans closer, can feel the breath from his mouth, Te Amo, he repeats, she sighs, can’t make it out, getting old, it’s hard to understand what is being said. Amo chases the room with his eyes, Amo he says, Amo, a memory returns to him, how he used to enjoy making people smile, women in particular, and children, being a man, he was not impressed with the male attitude, always in a hurry, did they ever hear of the word, wait.

Valentines day, he had friends, some old as himself, they having gruff attitudes to the love, living in cuckoo land, giving out, complaining, the world is wrong, had a view on all that was wrong, acted like politicians mostly, as if it was approval they sought, maybe covering up their own fears. Cheer those damn souls up, Valentines day, and the feelings in it, he would send them out cards, at least get them wondering, think different awhile, you will be surprised, who sent that?

 

He left me twenty years ago, Solomon listens, a blob of Guinness on his lips, being polite, he lets her rant on, who else would listen to this, no wonder he left you he thinks, still smiling at her, he must have been real bad to have that impact on you, he says, as he reaches for the new one, new Guinness, and you still haven’t forgiven him then, why should I she says, she goes on and on, meanwhile Solomon listens, how a conversation can ruin a Guinness moment. Did you ever hear of Love he says, she looks at him as if he has sixteen eyes and looks like a sheep, oddly, what’s that she says, Solomon raises his eyes, I will be on the whiskey soon if she keeps this up, did you ever hear of Te Amo, is that a drink she asks, mind if I go to the bathroom he says. So many wars fought over love that goes wrong, history of the human race, amen.

You saved a life today….

Are you listening, read on, you actually saved a life today, she shakes her head, this guy is looney, she is a nurse, he is a psychiatric patient, long term, she plays along, say nothing, this guy is nuts, his smile, she has seen it a hundred times, you saved a life today, he is repeating the same words, the look in his eye, the sooner she is out of the room the better, your meds, he takes the glass of water in his hand, closes his eyes. She watches him swallow the pills, job done. See you later she says, as she turns to leave the room. He is a long termer, no prospect of getting released, institutionalised.

She is about to close the door, he calls her back, I got a present for you he says. From under his pillow, he removes a plastic bag. He skakes it at her, her eyes widen in surprise, the red blues and pinks, she recognises them, pills.

Like I said he smiled, you saved my life today.

How did I do that she asks tentatively, while taking the plastic in her hand.

You said hello with a smile that’s all.

Blocked

no new ideas, stuck, nothing fresh going on, got a habit that I hate, got a cat that shits a lot, man does that need cleaning up, blocked, I hope you don’t upset the cat. He pressed the button, the machine, it produced a rhythm, a beat, he put a few lyrics over it, adjusted the volume, played them low played them high, a bit like a lotto player, fancy word for a gamble, how he frame words, sounds better, compulsive deniers, when we don’t like the news, we turn it off, the head can only hold so much. Imagine it, the stuff the head has to hoard, the so called important stuff, the stuff going back years. Unless it’s the heart, why would it be important?

Turkish Delight

Behind the gilded doors, the high fives, another currency in trouble, the analysts get it right, there is a weakness, all they need is the guide, the lawmaker or the judge, pronounces, the verdict in, the fund managers scream shouts of Joy, another fortune for those in the background, and their friends. High tariff’s the nail in the coffin of the T

Turkish economy, the economy is not going to escape it, a safe bet. The futures they bought have doubled in value overnight, and more to come, as the men behind the scenes, work out the details in other markets, all done under the proud name of the Eagle. Meanwhile, the white extremists smile, they assume this is their policy come through, too stupid to realize they are just tools, in the money making scheme.

Leaders with no empathy, those with no emotional connections, surrounded by liked minded, those who envy the position of the other, together linked, the game, making life hell for some, while making fortunes for themselves. Solomon wondered, why it was allowed to go on, all those trades were ear marked, on the accounts of banks, just another way to distribute wealth, cleanly, create a crisis and plunder. In a time when Spirit was in short supply, it was blind of them to behave this way. Together, was a word few ever understood, unless it was to do with selfish endeavour. Meanwhile, the extreme minds, play the games, winding up their supporters, reminding them of new victories, appealing to them, divide and move up. It’s a pity they never think as such, when it comes to the stuff in your face, the news of divine intervention, it had to mean something. Solomon thought hard, the old days, the warnings, even on the last days, they would refuse to believe, so it seems.

The Numbers Game

The blood pressure indicator, 180 over a hundred, and he is only twenty five, the surgeon assumes he has had an overdose of cocaine, the nurse waits for the instructions, how many mills doc, serious Broklyn accent, the needle in her hand, a smile on her tilted face, red lipstick on, the fancies the doctor, they had a fling once, what about the near stiff on the gurney, she casts a half glance, seen that before, a numbers game she sighs, and do I have a number for you doc, you are my number one. Callous or what, she gets up at six in the morning if she is lucky, meaning a weekend, on a weekday, she rises at four thirty, the traffic you see, is busier. She dolls herself in her cute uniform, dons some sweet smelling stuff , in a couple of hours time, she will be changing their nappies and smelling their shit, we all need a break.

The lord says, the preacher is on the pulpit, talking about the ways of the Most High, talking, he has a big speech to give to a few politicians later, they are coming over for a private blessing, some new start, the beginning of the next session of congress, he has an appeal to make, but first he must get done with this lot. A numbers game, going from crowd to crowd, the elite have the dollars, the masses give him the credibility, numbers.

Solomon read the news, numbers, numbers, the cost of everything, the price of oil,. the speed of the car, the time of day, numbers, numbers, turns the channel, the social life of a diva, well, what is a diva, someone with lots of numbers after their bank account seemingly, otherwise, strange he thought, listening to numbers. He wondered why there was a book of numbers in the old testament only, and not in the new testament, numbers, it put a price and a limit on everything. How was it possible to stop thinking about numbers, since all it did was remind you, of all the numbers you were short. Size twelve wants to be a size ten, six foot wants to be six two, five five wears implants, and the 36D wants to become a 38DD chest, numbers, could they think of something else, other than numbers!.. what else is inside their heads, coffee and biscuits maybe?

Bullying

Spying behavior, the seeds of discontent, the worry at the changes, was it ever that different, Solomon was recalling the times of old, the mind set hadn’t changed, many were still addicted to control, some call it freedom, some call

it destiny, some called the tactics clever, Solomon called them cheap.

Down through the ages, it hadn’t changed at all, the innuendo, the threat to the followers, the anxiety and the hold. In the Networks there was anxiety, in the investors world, paranoia, things weren’t reacting as they used to, as if that was good for you. Picture it, the folksy chat, the painted gardens, the smiles and the comrades, the sense of getting close to the goal, soon we will have absolute control, then Imagine, the arrival of Great Spirit, Jesus, the movie when the outsider arrives, and how plans are thrown into the dust heap, while all the time the bullying continues.

Move to the modern times, the headlines, the over reaction of TV pundits, willing their supporters on.

It was one of those days, the sensibilities are interfered with, as if you are supposed to get used to it. Solomon sighed, the words of old on his lips,

“like children you must be when you approach the Father”

Those who covet control, want you beaten, tired, worn Spiritless, unless it’s them you support. He saw the spirit rise, he saw the strut constrict, Spirit means God, amen, and there was nothing anyone could do about that. You just know, it’s inside you, changes the thinking, and that’s for sure.