That Hurts!

On time she wakes, presses the button on the side table, the news. My pills, where are they, her first thought, can’t do anything without them, so see thinks. She is hiding demons; not demons inside, but the demons she is actively fighting. Her Spirit is strong, has been known to confront, no one mess’s with her, one strong woman they all say. In the morning no one can see her, the struggle, the weakness, the admitted failure; she drops two morning pills, they will put her on a calm cloud; she is ready to think.

She squeezes her hand, balls it, is the pain gone. She was playing guitar the night before; after there was a long ache, worse than a tooth ache; she wasn’t a talker, she played guitar instead. Her leather trousers are on a heap on the floor; she looks around for another pair of shoes; least she didn’t take home someone. It’s like the mind thing, when you forget, some things she wish she could forget it all; yeah, she had those thoughts, but they never went far, she numbed the demon first. That hurts, it’s her knee, she needs to sleep with it straight, her memory is vague; one thing she knows for sure, Her Spirit must remain strong, and that hurts sometime.

She had it all, another life lost, another star gone. So the pages said, the talent lost. But was it really; didn’t the events give an added energy to her works, as a new generation became aware of her artistic output, and would be influenced accordingly.

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Martin Luther King Time – Re Blogged (never take credit for others work), God’s lawyers file papers against patent holders on his own creations, thieves!)

Originally posted on I didn’t have my glasses on….: This post is dedicated to the dreamers and doers who are making a positive difference in the world. May you succeed beyond your wildest dreams and what you accomplish create ripples that expand the goodness and greatness of humanity. With Love, Russ With Love, Russ I didn’t have my glasses on…. View original post

via in honor of martin luther king – dreamer and idealist. — Russ Towne’s A Grateful Man

If we don’t need it why do they tease us!

Thumbs click the icon moves quick, got ya, the game goes on, intense is the concentration, the gamer’s are enlightened, the games are burning their minds, cutting out all other interests. Imagine, creating the platform that consumes the imagination, fills the head completely, same way booze acts on the easy minded, the angry and the lonely, keeping them busy till they can’t drink any longer, comatose. The wisdom of the human race was being called into question. Solomon spent a few days among friends, and saw the control of the machine, and the fear that prevailed, when the machine was taken away, horror, anger, pleading, before finally relenting, till they got to play the game.

Too young to know about such things, well too young to know about such things, particularly when the elders preached against them, while carrying on with the same habits. Was this the story of the Pharisee’s and Jesus all those years ago. The warning given to those with responsibility for leading their flocks, the advice being simply this:

beware of those who say and don’t do, was it the same warning you get when you get to hear of the great pyramid scheme that made everyone rich, there has to be a trick.

On the holiday he watched many movies, listened to the veiled messages within; stuff that is not only adult but dangerous to the younger of the generation. Well if there are so many institutions warning us, why has nothing been done about it, access to the adult side of the web.

Children should never be exposed to this!, how often do you hear it. By the time he got to the tenth page of the newspaper, he had seen enough underwear, so much in fact it would have filled the closet of a Hollywood starlet, ..and they wonder where the ideas come from!

The Sermon

Your coming to church, he hears his mother, he is at the play station. He press’s a button, he has already forgotten, he is winning the game, two up and ten minutes to go, about two minutes game time. Hurry up she shouts, “do I have to go up there!”, he winces. He is clever. The teacher says that playing the game is good for my education. She can only smile, she is a patient mum. Hurry she shouts, damn, it’s two one and a minute left. His head watches the door, he thinks he hears steps, don’t push he thinks, he gets up, just as she reaches the top of the stairs.

In the car, why are we going to church Ma!, she is rounding a bend, being careful. Why are we going to church he repeats. She lets him say it a third time. The church appears in their view, she looks at him with a huge smile and says:

so you will learn to listen dear!

Do you have a child with listening problems, i’d say everyone who has children would say yes… well, why not bring them to church a few times, amen.

Get Up!

The preacher woman has put the fear of God in them, the accusers retreat from the hall, they see the moving Spirit, they know she represents God, they all step back, their earlier enthusiasm curbed, once they encounter the power of the all mighty One True God, they had never seen the like. She calls them towards her healing hands, where she will lay them down, the crowd is excited, they have been praying, genuinely calling out loud, Save us they pray, save them she did. The newspapers across the United States were full of the wonders, a preacher woman becomes the most famous woman in America, the years, the 1920’s.

The healing Spirit, the gift she was bestowed with, was not a gift as far as the excess’s of human kind were concerned, more a hindrance, you mean they believe, what a problem they thought; she was not a member of the religious mainstream.

Many years later, Solomon hit the same sea

m, came upon the healing Spirit, had the visit of the Great Spirit, and had used it as his special surprise ever since. Seriously, did anyone think they could scheme against the Great Spirit and escape their destiny, no one did.

The old man is tired, his years are closing in, he has disappointments reminding him, there was more he could have done, he is getting the reminders of eternity, as the dots of old memory join up, why didn’t I notice he sighs, his eyes teary. The door opens, and the old sallow skin changes in color, the eyes brighten up, as love enters the room. Isn’t that so easy to do?

Hear my Voice….

She runs up the stairs, admires her slim figure in the wall length mirror at the top, the transformation, six months earlier she was anybody, she was now the chair person of a local charity, and local was New York. She left her make up bag in the shower room, an essential, given that she’d be meeting people for the next three hours. The world of Good intention she sighed, imagining herself meeting the Pope, the Dali lama was too far out for her, but she’d meet him too, if she had to, or as she termed it, while doing my civic duty dear. The horn honks, she takes a deep breath.

“don’t chauffeurs know their station anymore” she quips. It comes with the appointment, a driver and car for official functions, she calls him her chauffeur.

The world of good intention, or the intention of the idea. From a distance it sounded too easy, and there were many who were glad to have it easy, as nobody wanted to be challenged, only then would their be real solutions. You have to accept it she heard a confidant say, friends were now confidants, she had acquired power. You have to accept a certain level of homelessness, even at Christmas time. When she heard it said the first time it bothered her, well, she lived very comfortably, and poverty wasn’t easy on the eye, it didn’t sit well with the chesterfield suite either. She was adamant, she would change it all, she was different, she had an education, she wasn’t a home trophy either.

Six months later she is rushing down the stairs, when her high heel sticks in a wood split, (all the floors are natural wood, more organic and good for the soles of her feet), As she moves forward, her ankle twists, does she fall or.

I told you for the hundred time, I’m homeless, and i don’t do house share, did you not see my Vietnam war record. The counter assistant is beginning to panic, he mentioned Vietnam, a trigger word, so the specialists said, the behind the scenes advisers. She moves a curl from her face, she is too young to be doing what she is doing, but volunteers are in short supply, they also mean more money for services provided and admin.

At the world charity center, they are having their annual review. They are a group that meets twice yearly, the way

every industry does, the heads of organisations meet, discuss the thrills of the year, and the outlook going forward. In the previous five years, personal injury charities have been thriving, the demand for services doubling year in year out, a real boom area for the charity industry. If society is getting smarter, should it not be going the other way, hear my voice, amen.

Are You a listener…..

Will you stop talking, there is something I need to say, will you stop it, she reaches for her apron, he continues to fumble, will you stop and let me get dressed, will you stop, he pesters her, she smiles and laughs, can’t wait to get away, will you stop she laughs. His tone becomes all serious, he mentions the insurance that has to be paid, and the suit she has to collect, he has an important dinner …are you listening….

Friday night. Money usually follows, in order to pay the small debt, crumbs will be left over, a new book even a dress, are you listening, will you stop, he is at her again, will you stop, she grabs the hundred dollar bill, reaches for the door handle, don’t forget he says, you got children to collect, are you listening yet.