Self Control

Vietnam, Iraq, the concentration camps, The Irish Famine, the first world war, the traffic in women, slavery, internet pornography, the off shore accounts, the financial traders rigging the market, the banks overcharging the lowly, the cathars, the burning of women, yes, human dignity has been put under pressure, what is there to be proud of. Before pouring the blames out, it’s time to check the mirror, and use some self control, amen.

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Masters of the World

He wheezes in the bed, the oxygen tank gives him air, on the walls, all around, masterpieces of an older world, treasures he thought, what he’d give to be able to take a normal breath, the one thing his money can’t buy. The friends who call are not real friends, they just wonder how long he has got, and who will be the beneficiary. The cost of the collection, priceless in money terms, with his failing eyesight, he can just about make out the colors. He presses the bell, the nurse comes running up the stairs. He needs water, his mouth is dry, he sighs. The energy it takes to reach for the glass. She holds it to his lips, he sips, refreshing. The Van Gogh was such a lucky break, he got it on the black market, it was looted from a museum during the war, he is the only one to have the original, and it sits before him on the wall, one of the master pieces from the poorest of the great painters; all he can do is imagine what it looks like.

The real treasures of the world, are stored in your heart, Solomon sighed. He was visiting an old friend, not as sturdy as he used to be, but still there, and still believing. No worries old timer, your on the list that goes above, eternity awaits your soul. At the thought the light bursts overhead, casting a light across the room. Every one who comes to visit, a real time friend, no one seeking gain, what a joy. You are near the gates of eternity, and they come to wish you well, and hope perhaps, to grab a little of your Spirit, cause he is a real master of the world. Solomon laughed inside, and you know me well.

He recalled a conversation years before, the argument he made, Love is in the danger zone, why worry about the bits and possessions, you can’t bring it with you, no matter how powerful you are; all you can leave behind is example, make it good he said, and they laughed at him; well, he wondered if they could afford a smile as they arrived at the pearly gates, the masters of the world. Didn’t Jesus tell them the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, just a sip of water. Warned them pleads the Old Rich Man. Solomon saw the signs, and had been writing them ever since. His old friend smiles, golly he says

, isn’t that marvelous, the sun coming out like that, Solomon sighed, unbelievable, but real, a sign from God, amen.

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 Person Inside

Four different foundations, each one a shade lighter, she is after the perfect look, she is giving a presentation, there will be cameras and journalists, her outward appearance really matters, the public are influenced by what they see, pretty gets all the attention at the start, what about it she puts on some blusher as well, who can blame her.

The baby is a few days old, pink flesh with eyes arms that move, fed every four hours as per the instructions, the nurse calls every week to assist with the new born health, it’s important to get the foundations right at the start, has an affect on baby the diet the sleep pattern the well being of mother, the person inside needs all this basic nurture.

The four year old child has the phone in his hands, his mother grabs it takes if from him, your too young for all that stuff, wait til you grow up she says with adoring eyes, he screams and screams she says no, she gives him a biscuit calms his troubles away, distraction and other inputs the child will be safer without the mobile phone..

Later, why can’t I do that, well, if that’s what they do, why not me, it’s reasonable logic, he is only a child. Twenty years of online provocation, a click and your on the site, enticed with words, reminded daily by image, your natural workings interfered with, how easy it is, to undermine the well being of the Spirit inside…

The battle was ongoing, the young souls were under assault, the mighty angels were busy, the old networks were falling, the changes were coming everyday, who could imagine it, so many changes in so short a time. Solomon was recalling the pressure so many young were under, as depression was being recorded with alarming frequency, in the very young, a warning call, it was putting pressure on the seed provider, amen.

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.

Feeling Sorry….

Tired day long night had too much did a bit too much stuff, head hurts, sleep unruly, facing the day, another Monday, difficult getting out of bed, I really want to get out of my head, the world is mean and I am feeling sorry for myself, what have i done to deserve this, crunch, the world revolves around me, cause all there is, is me, my problem, thinking about nobody but myself, the root of my problems. Reaching for the medication, it’s not prescribed, two pills later on your feet, thinking about going to work, is there something i missed. The coffee is sharp, the brain unwinds, do the teeth, thought of having a shower, a splash of deodorant will cover the smell, get me through to the evening.

The stairwell is navigated, soon your on the street, rush along, where is the nearest transport, you don’t feel like walking, then you rush across the street, it’s busy, you’ve done in a thousand times, rushed, you get a thrill out of danger, the white shit you suck up your nose, mixed with rat poison to get you a little higher, when did you last read the contents of any medical product, probably never, you just accept the doctors advice. The kids are unruly in the car, she turns around, the latest scream from the three year old, ear shattering, too much, she wants to give him a …bang crash, he slides into the path of the car, slipped on a banana skin, she is unable to react, you go under the car, crunch, you hear your bones shatter…. the light, they are all around you, you can see can’t hear, feeling sorry…

Solomon lazed over a coffee, it had been a tiring day, the usual suspects were at it again, selling fear and anxiety, as if trying to unhinge him, selling him their habits, as if trying to be helpful. He goes through the day, it was exciting in parts, he enjoyed the banter, the way a smart politician enjoys a debate, he was listening, adding bits and pieces, not trying to over indulge. The bathroom is busy, two no hopers sniffing their heads off, well, they started behind everyone else, education poor and their parents alcoholics, feeling sorry.

On the street, he is there, it’s been a rough life, over reacting to the abuse passed on, the sentence a long one, we’ll make an example shouts the judge, the domineering father, church sponsored most of it if the religious would only admit it, his bags with him, all his possessions, slept with those just as unfortunate, while 25 trillion rests off short, and five times that elsewhere; the old man smiles, Solomon asks for a light, he needs is buzz too, we are all in this together, walks on. Feeling sorry, no shower, no bed, no place to put your things, right in front of you, how many just pass and say nothing at all, afraid of contagion. Then the woman taking over the duties of the priest cause the priest did an elvis and never showed up, how things change so quickly, feeling sorry, do something about it, for someone else, amen, your deeds determine who you are, amen. when three meet in my Name, the Father is there with you, words of Jesus, you are not alone. Solomon sighed, the nights he spent on Knock hill with the two old boys, the stuff you remember, and all the big talk shit that means nothing at all, just as the Father said.

Living in the Head

Do you often feel as if the opinions of others matter more than what you actually think, living in the head as it’s called, someone arrives, has something you want or fear, could be cash, could be a threat, others find them important, always repeating what they said, imposing their ideas, until you can’t think of anything else, as if someone else is living in your head. Solomon sighed, it sounds as if it’s a mind game, getting the better of someone, the pose, the stance, the framing of ideas, until all you can think of, is where do you fit in it all, and so that becomes your life, it’s the same as trying to find a parking space on a busy Saturday, going round in circles, till exhausted, you take the first spot available. The pressure is applied emotionally, your work buddies, you think you can’t be honest, you will only upset everyone else, and who wants to be ostracized anyway.

Solomon was reminding himself, how extremists were always trying to push the buttons, trying to cause over reaction, doing whatever to unhinge the well being of most. He had news for those of such thinking, the extreme element type, There is a God Most High, and the radar is on them. A short prayer he sighed, then every call from the heart is exactly that, amen.