Not Another Boring Day….

The bed is so comfy, the dread of the office, you might even pick up a cold, everyone is complaining of the virus, another one does it’s rounds. You pull the covers a little higher, it’s safe in there, and warm, the thought of cold water on your face, the shock of it, is there anything better to do, and don’t forget the mouthwash, nay, I’d rather stay in bed and have a few beers, reflect on the times I was young and brave, and there was a cause to fight for, those were the days. The clock buzzes, the repeat alarm, who invented such a thing, same as adds on the TV, thank god for the world that allows us watch TV without having to digest the adds. The media influence is slipping and the people are finding their voice, amen.

The rules, you can’t eat this, and that is bad for you too, seems like you will have to dump the contents of the fridge again, third time in a month. Too much money perhaps, and no common sense, your thinking all the time while under the duvet. You recall that movie, the guy takes out the friends Ferrari, Ferris someone or other, you remember, it was a few years ago, the stuff you remember, it was years ago, still you recall, not so bad, your testing the old grey matter, nothing wrong with it. Time to call in a sickie, one less in the office, temporary staff will get a call, someone will eat an unexpected lunch, even better, a child will get an unexpected treat, courtesy to your non arrival at work, ever see it like that, possibly not, you know now, so what are you waiting for.

Stuff you used to do, and still want to, the mornings under the duvet. You are not getting up for work you say, the words you used long ago when the pillow was not empty, the damn rules and the fear it spreads. Impressionism wasn’t painting in the fifteenth century, but it was many years later, and possibly the most sought after art there is today, everything changes. You grab the duvet and smile, you are still willing to risk it, and it feels good.

Solomon sighed, I will have to get a regular job one day, but today I’m going to be me. The rules, even Jesus had to put up with the jibes, well, he was stealing the power of the so called rulers of the day, so they imagined, well he wasn’t, it was just an awful lot easier when you say it as it is, and stop the acting as so many of them did, in order to secure their jobs and the power they held. A reminder to everyone, you can change it any given day, and once you understand that and think how others feel, the world around you brightens up, and all despair just leaves you, you just have to imagine it.

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The Temple Door

He watches them enter, he has been waiting a while, there has to be one who understands, the words have to have meaning, not simple acknowledgement, there is plenty of that, who doesn’t need water to drink, an acknowledged fact, yet so much of it is poisoned, when it gets rare, suddenly things hurry up. Solomon reflected, why were the prophets necessary, why were they sent around. Reminders, there is a destiny, that even the demon acknowledges, were we supposed to be working towards that, making it possible. He is hungry, it’s a place where the worshippers gather, they are told to imitate Jesus and the prophets, he seeks a sign. Has been living on a bench, not a tramp, far from it,. he comes with divine authority, there is one among them with the faith Necessary, he continues to wait at the temple door.

The wonders of the stories of old, the constant rebuke of those in charge, repeated so often, no wonder he said it was great news for the oppressed and the poor, those moved out of societies view, it’s ugly having to admit the downside. Get them out of my sight, who needs reminding of that.

Solomon smiled, his Mother held the door open all her life, didn’t suffer the views of those who waited on society, to deliver. In her heart, in her family, active in your faith, and you will be delivered. How many times had the helper arrived, every time, and what was the response of the organised religion, the same as political parties trying to recruit a candidate?

 

Amo Rules The….. A.R.T World

The old geezer in the corner, chortles, he is having a good laugh, this is real. A visitor is scheduled to see him, always brings some bootleg, well, a sniff of real grass, the stuff that opens the senses, allows you to smell, better than snuff, sweeter too, probably great for all sorts of nasal blockages, medical world of old not a fan of it, can’t replicate that unique smell, like breathing in sweetened air, only better, purely natural.

The old folks home, warm in winter, a safe haven, staff extraordinarily kind. Amo feels so good, he feels sometimes like he rules the world. Well we all smell at times, who doesn’t, as for all that chemical stuff they use to stifle those smells, it’s as if they are trying to vaporize the entire planet, a selection of them in every home, wind safe, no air movement at all, does anyone get it, they are living in their own incubators. As for Amo, he doesn’t give a fart, lets off quite a few, but that’s natural considering his age, ask Jack, (nicholson) he will tell you all about them. As for Amo, just a whiff of sweet marijuana and he’s running through a meadow again, not that he smokes or anything, that’s what the young ones do, amen.

Solomon sighed, he recalls his old friend, how his Spirit was awoken by that sweet aroma, that science can’t imitate, every time he got a scent of it. Reminded him of that Movie, Al all peace Pacino, scent of the blueberry, what a story that was, or was it strawberry, they smell great too, legal cause you can eat them I suppose, amen.

 

Children of a Lesser God…

Not the movie, great as it is, an old movie and probably more than worthy of a remake, whatever, no no no, the feelings inside so many, they ravage the rubbish dumps, walking on everyday bacteria, just to feed themselves, no, not by choice, because that’s the way it is, same as those toxic ships, that sail far far away, carrying first world thrash that is so dangerous, they fear dumping it anywhere near them, so they travel to those places, where tyranny and dictators live, before opening the hold, and dropping their cargo, into the once fertile sea, that provided life to so many, a sea with no boundaries no matter where you live. The children get sick, the mothers decide to move, they make treacherous journeys, some by sea some by land, where they face even more starker dangers, little wonder so many feel like Children of a Lesser God. Yes, the cry for mercy is loud, and the voices are being heard, and there are many changes afoot, it’s having the divine effect, opening the hearts of the righteous further, and sending fear into the minds of those who cause great harm, cause we are not children of a lesser God.

Solomon sighed, why bother chasing ambulances when you can write change instead. Inside us, there is this power he sighed, you just have to believe, amen.

Migrant Mary

The tent leaks, it’s cold, but there is a TV, she is watching CNN, the debate is very personal, they are talking about the “Wall”, the door is closed to her and many like her, Dear God she says, is this always going to be their way. For cash they will allow the “dreamers” stay on, what sort of thinking is that, to build a wall, everyone knows you can cross any border these days. Mary is not your ordinary migrant, well, no migrant is ordinary, they take extraordinary chances to create a life, and they do. Miguel comes into the tent, her seven year old son, what are you looking at Mam, they are discussing us she says, his eyes light up, you mean we are going to be famous, he gets excited inside, everyone wants to be famous these days, including, seven year old Miguel.

The diseases have eased since the red cross doctors arrived, but the food is staple, porridge with lots of vitamin, meanwhile, the leaders of Davos, sit down to an eight course meal. There is a flash from the cameras, looks delish says Miguel, he is fed up with the bland food, and used to doing without. What are they discussing he says, he’s a smart child, can ask the right question at the right time, will make a good job when he grows up, if allowed, the other options don’t augur well, he is smart, and that is not something to be wasted. You don’t want him becoming a terrorist.

A teacher in her homeland, a number now, counted with millions of others on the move across the globe, when your without and you don’t have an address, there are few who take you seriously.

Solomon sighed, when will they apply the wisdom and teaching of old, all those old gitters are going to face the eternal judge, for real, they will all have to account for themselves, with all their educations and those expensive schools, you’d have thought they might have learned, have they not seen the signs in the Sky, should have gone to the opticians sooner I suppose. A war was raging, the old time nationalists wanted to turn back time, problem was mother nature was weaker, and they were all being used by the new world extremists. At least after all the troubles of the past, the younger set were not going to fall for that, as for Migrant Mary, the tent leaks, the air is cooler, but Miguel still dreams of being famous.

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 theĀ  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.

So Talented….

Look what I can do, the others in the group, half admiring half envious, she plays the first few notes, her fingers roll across the keys, the melody sweet but up tempo, she moves her sticks with ease. The piece ends, there is awe in their eyes, it was more than they expected, she is getting better, there is interest in far off places, and she has had a few offers already, but she is patient, doesn’t want to rush into things, has done that in the past . She recalls the history of Elvis, his instant success, the path to fame, the illusion of Fame, and his early death. Her talent comes from a far off place, she has always had faith, wasn’t sure what it was, till she practiced, found she could change the mood around her, few understood, why was she so shy.

Solomon sighed, what is talent for, bridge building comes to mind, there is so much difference between so many of us, all of us relying on the same environment, while fighting for the resources that sustain us, the race to get numbers in the account, the priority, not wisdom, but we are easily swayed, the forecast of a storm, the rush to the grocery store, the madness, food stuffed in case the world ends, sheep.

The little monkey is fifty feet up, swinging branch to branch, reaches for invisible leaves, not afraid of falling, rarely does, the bird can spot the fish four feet below the surface of the water, the beady eye does the calculations, uses the calculator in the head, does the math, never went to school, does the dive, and in seconds the wriggling fish is in it’s claws, talent, ever wonder where it comes from, the bird can see the crumb, picks, can spot trouble coming, waits till the final second, just lifts up, no engine or starter motor, just rises, talent, human opinion, we are in a slow boat in deed, amen.

Jesus said we are Gods, it is inside you, forgive and don’t put weight on your soul, it only sinks you. We sure do an awful lot complaining if the bribe is a good one. and those who are vulnerable, nearly all of us, are easily fooled. Solomon was recalling, there was so much wisdom out there, but as Jesus said, the example of many is not worth a damn, amen.