Plastic Times

There is a lot of anxiety, it’s been piling up for some time, it’s called plastic, the man made creation that nature can’t breakdown, and in a disposable world it’s everywhere. Plastic, the answer to so many problems, in the beginning, now it’s choking the life out of nature, plastic. Now we have to guard against it, the misuse of it. In the beginning it seems the answer, clean, and it resulted in many ways from the lobby of the chemical industry, and the ban put on other stuff.

We are sending them to battle sir!, the colonel is having a chat with the commander in chief, and the chief scientist of the army. In previous wars they used pills to keep the soldiers awake, now they need a pill that will make them stay awake and fight. Concoctions are tried out, some work, some too aggressive, tested on prisoners, the need to get it right is essential to the war effort. So is the availability of rest and recuperation places, when the men are on leave. hey, they need to unload General, otherwise they might not want to fight anymore.

What are you doing that for, asks a young soldier, watching two buddies chase the dragon. Go on try it, it will clean you mentally and you’ll sleep like a baby. By the end of the sixties the beginning of the drug epidemic the world now enjoys seriously started. Meanwhile, places in the far east become famous for the exploitation of women and children, all on account of a war started by default, Vietnam, against an enemy they didn’t need to fight. The legacy of war, and the blood on the hands of those who made those horrific choices. (Solomon encountered divine interventions)

The bomber leaves the base, the big bomb is on board, the first bomb caused total devastation, but they are going to do it again, just to be sure the message is received.


Only human beings are capable of devising ways to destroy themselves, and the world. Fortunately, The Heavenly Father has plans for those who would dare destroy his beautiful creation. Solomon encountered the Holy Spirit, had encountered those determined to damage the Spirit. Let the schemes of the deceivers and extremists implode on themselves, and cause no harm to your people he prayed. With a single thought they could be turned into soup mentally and rendered babbling fools. If the last five years were anything to go by, there was a lot of happiness to look forward too, if only they sort the plastic out, amen, smile.


Getting Married, or where did all the years go!

marriage, they were drinking in a downtown bar, an early house. Seven in the morning, the heads were drowsy, the hangover affect, the brain slow to engage, the words just a mutter, a sigh, a fart, what a life.

“Life is a marriage!”

What do you Mean jack?

Well, the day your born your into it, and the day you die you dissolve it, isn’t that a marriage. His friends looked at him, maybe that was it. Divorce was akin to a breakdown, a RETREAT. They shake their heads, his companions. You got it wrong they say. Marriage is a relationship bond, the promise to hang together not alone on the journey. When we get carried away, children arrive and we settle down.

The same way life is a marriage, the older you get, the more becalmed you become.

Tony Soprano and the Jury

That’s not how it works, it’s different, the men are arranged around a table, it’s judgement day and the news is not as expected, a twit found the funding and made a movie about the commencement of the Vietnam war, it’s released the same day as the  men with canes and worn walks have to attend a special hearing of the heavenly commission, the life they lived is being weighed up. On account of the authority they yielded, they are seen as high value persons.

Everyone is treated the same, whether your a made man or not!,  Tony adds with a half smile, and points at each one of them; you all had a hand in this man made mess, so what do you have to say for yourselves. An old man opens his mouth when his dentures fall out, his jaw continues shaking as he tries to put the dentures back in. The old geezer sitting next to him says “why don’t you try super glue, that way they’ll never fall out!”

This is serious says big Tony, there is only so much; a room load outside awaits the decision, the minions of these once powerful men.

So what have you to say about yourselves?

Old Alfred turns to George, “I told you we should never have got rid of Kennedy!”

What’s Kennedy got to do with this asks Tony, who is the Heavenly district attorney, he senses an even bigger scalp.

“Kennedy, a peace loving Irish dumb ass, what does he know about business except for his Father who bought it for him!”

Gathering at the Table — smile calm Martin Luther King … a reblog

Originally posted Jan 26, 2013 I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit together at the table of brotherhood. -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. On our path towards heart’s dream, journey’s value, at […]

via Gathering at the Table — smilecalm

Old Man Christmas

The days close in on the main event, and the visitors are on their way, friends and relatives we haven’t seen for a while, including the “old man”, will be showing up. Last preparations, runs to the store, the gathering of wood, it is all getting prepared. I have met many, and many had met him, but it was the “old man”, who told the best stories. Every night over the Christmas period, he used to read us stories, from his head, the story of the turkey with the three heads, the most entertaining one of all. He had problems with his eyesight, didn’t know where to look!

What was the reason I remember the “old man”. why did others slip from memory, it was one of those questions that is not easy to answer, I suppose when you are small, it’s the great tales you recall as you get older, and the “old man”, well, he loved telling them. I realize now, many years older, and hopefully wiser, he was just passing the tradition on, a bit like Christmas itself, a reminder of other things, amen.

“and there was a slice of bacon for dinner and gravy if we were lucky!”

“did they do dessert?” asked siobhan, her face down

We would always fall asleep before the end. Isn’t that the great thing about a good story, it just lives on, with the help of the “old man”, of course.

Aimee Mcpherson

A woman is filled with the Spirit, an energy that comes from afar, it has the power to heal, word spreads everywhere, Her name is Sister Aimee McPherson, she lived in the early parts of the 1920’s, started the revival movement, a woman, and this at a time when women had few rights, just imagine it. They came to her in droves, they even built the great Theater in Los Angeles, what was the history of this woman, and more importantly, where did that Spirit go. If it was around once it will be around again.

Solomon was reading the story of the pioneering spirit, who filled meeting halls and temples to over flowing capacity, while delivering the healing help, what happened to this great energy. It was an insight to to today, when preachers had lost that initial zeal, tied down by too many burdening rules, as if the impressionists themselves were under threat as they painted their great masterpieces. Who was Aimee McPherson.



Malala~by Paul Lenzi — OUR POETRY CORNER

Malala Malala Yousafzai (For Malala Yousafzai) five times shot by medieval misogyny bullets of brittle belief aimed by ancient assassins at innocent dreams fifty million young girls take to second-class beds every third world night but this one slender flower empowered by sisterhood shared at the roots flush with uncommon courage caught […]

via Malala~by Paul Lenzi — OUR POETRY CORNER