“What A Difference A Day Makes(commercial and video) — AMERICA ON COFFEE

Dinah Washington (born Ruth Lee Jones; August 29, 1924 – December 14, 1963), was an American singer and pianist, who has been cited as “the most popular black female recording artist of the ’50s”. Primarily a jazz vocalist, she performed and recorded in a wide variety of styles including blues, R&B, and traditional pop music, […]

via “What A Difference A Day Makes(commercial and video) — AMERICA ON COFFEE

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The Students perspective

The morning comes, the preparation is made, the breakfast, a few texts from friends, ready she sighs, her new school, a new experience, friends she hopes to meet, and the teachers, hope they are good she prays. The effort made to educate and teach, the habits passed on, and the harvest down the line many years later.

Solomon was remarking on the cycle, how it begins, slowly, how influences are made, and the affect it has on those we meet. It was the story of old told another way. How we lay down steps from our actions, and the perspective of the student, who puts their trust in you.

There is a bad happening, the president is reacting, everyone is watching, how will he react they say. If he calls for thoughtful reflection he is considered weak, the usual mongrels only appreciate the hard talk, peace is for the weak ended. How those looking on behave as a result, after all, they have a students perspective, and try to trust in those that are teaching them.

Assault in Los Vegas

disheartened gambler and age was not on his side, in the cauldron of fire he fills his heart with hate, like an abusive soul whoever was nearest got it, he simmers under the surface his real intention never far away, one day it is going to burst and then explode, his friends laugh at his weird remarks, seriously you don’t expect us to believe it, then the news and the horror that he created, what was he expecting when he took the last bullet himself, questions on the minds of many how one could hate so much. Mother father children friends and relatives now steeped in sadness, the useless carnage proved nothing, just an assault on the defenceless, when they were least expecting it, amen.

was there any meaning to the horror, Solomon sighed. In the heartland of the dollar, the Christians are martyred, the signs of old control all around, memories of kingdoms that had risen up and died. There was a lot of symbolism, was it

another warning, amen.

Gandhi

happy birthday Mr Gandhi, the guest is after arriving, and he has a present for the great man, a bowl of peace, just what i was seeking said the octogenarian, well, he is a little older but his spirit is still young, and he has been restless in the pursuit of a peaceful world, his guest, smiles. What do you want to ask me says the old man, who suddenly stops and apologizes for not offering his guest some tea on the veranda. He has traveled a long distance, to seek the wisdom of the peace activist. There is great concern in the world, so many areas of conflict, and the leaders in situ seem out of touch, the wise oracle is badly needed.

No sugar, i’m sweet enough says his guest. There is a tray of biscuits on the table, Mr Gandhi reaches for one and dips one into his tea, a habit i picked up from the english,  he smiles, as he dips it a second time, oops, he lets the biscuit linger and it all falls in. Going to the same place anyway he smiles patting his tummy.

Peace Mr Gandhi, how did you manage it. Mr Gandhi has a childlike smile, his face is radiant, how i got into this place you mean, waving his hands at the surrounds, a paradise of calm and beauty, bliss. His guest nods, no, it wasn’t that peace he was interested in, but how the world was going to mend itself, the threat of wars a daily event, tragedies a regular news item. How do we mend the situation Mr Gandhi, his guest repeats. Mr Gandhi is on his fourth biscuit, and successfully dunks it. Patience he sighs, patience he sighs, not meaning to be overheard. His guest writes in a notebook, patience first. And don’t over react, it achieves nothing adds Mr Gandhi, usually makes things worse, his guest writes more. Patience, don’t over react, his guest is trying to be patient, but Mr Gandhi has his eyes on the biscuits, there is only one left. Should he share it or eat it, and sharing Mr Gandhi says, it makes people thankful, his guest writes sharing into his notebook. The biscuits are gone, Mr Gandhi finally looks up, he smiles at his guest and says,

“so why did you come to visit me then, did you bring any cookies with you then?”

I was seeking wisdom says the guest, oh wisdom, why didn’t you ask me that at the beginning, answers Mr Gandhi, it’s very simple. Once you use the wisdom you have, you get second then third helpings of it, provided you make use of it, it’s the law of the talents. Mr Gandhi sighs, his face droops.

Anything wrong Sir asks the guest?. No biscuits left.

save our environment….

It’s a common topic, the support structure of all life is in trouble, and there are no mirrors, we are in it all of us, a band of human beings, save our environment, the stars in the sky are falling, the movements of the stars noted for years, save our environment, the call is coming fast and hard, collectively is there anything we can do.

He heaps a small mound of crystal powder on the table, while his eyes follow her swinging hips as she heads for the toilet, a change of underwear, so he imagines. He can fill the gap that cuts out the rest of the world, blind you mentally till there is nothing else to do. have another one of these, he acts as if he is the king, they get the hit they forget and comeback.

save our environment, we need all the ideas we can gather, the seriousness of the situation is downplayed, the sensitive nature of the human being, if they knew the truth they might panic entirely. In far off locations some are building spaceships, preparing for the worst, but they are still trying to save the environment.

Solomon sighed, the positive intervention of God Most High, had much to do with love. Saving our environment and being close to God went hand in hand he reckoned.

Ezra Writes Again…

Who the darn is Ezra you might ask, an old name and a new one, there is the singer fella, I

heard his stuff, pretty good. The two friends are sitting outside a cafe, drinking the afternoon latte, they are old generation, brought up in the time when a cell phone was a gadget from star trek, beam me up scottie, one of those. Can you imagine holding a bit of plastic chuck, and talking to someone in space, cause that is what they did in star trek, chuck nods, that was a long time ago he sighs, while foam dribbles onto his shirt. You got a bit there points Harry, chuck gives the spot a rub.

The two friends remind each other of olden times, the simplicity, perhaps the naivete of people, perhaps the charm that was standard, every neighborhood had a Clark gable and a Marilyn Munro they laughed, the woman all the married women used to worry about, Chuck recalls, he smiles, it was a one night stand. And stars were stars, involved in helping, not the self centered variety.

The false teachers and the real ones, Solomon imagined something similar, the true messengers and those who jumped on the wagon, it was in the warnings, same as real stars and the imitation exist, it was all written thousands of years before, we just haven’t been reminded. Ezra was a prophet close to his heart, his story was dramatic, but the explanations he was given, clarified so much, strength and vigor exists, as we age we keel over a little, same as weakness of the Spirit. He was looking for a story, a name, a title, cause the story was written, he was just adding the coverings, he needed a name. Look back to Ezra, remember Moses, what was in their minds, how did they manage to cope with it, it was a lot in those times, imagine what they must be feeling now. Solomon sighed, pretty interesting. According to Ezra, that is not a bad title he smiled, even better, Ezra rides again, even better.

The Child Smiles

She pushes the buggy, she’s a young mother, it has not been easy, the windows she passes, she can see but can’t afford. The boy she pushes is her two year old son, his father is a delinquent, he has left them both. The money in her pocket will feed them for a few days, cheap pizza from the discount store, sugary biscuits and a little extra, not much more. Across the street, a stranger watches, he has been sent to help, they know she is in trouble. A vulnerable young woman and child is seen as easy prey to the evil mind, easy to coerce and control. She moves on, her smile is pursed, the child giggles, they pass the sweet shop, the boy cries out, she reverses, she can’t afford it but she tries. God Most High watches, 25 trillion off shore and the same again in other places. She feels the coins in her jacket, it was the money for the milk. They enter the shop, she stands before the display, the stranger enters, bumps into her, has gentle eyes. Nice boy he says, looking at the child, the eyes light up, the boy begins to laugh, the mother is surprised, she does not often see him like that, all lit up. You dropped this he says, with a knowing smile. She can read his thoughts, really she asks, he nods again, he never forgets he says. That smile is worth billions to the boss, every time he see’s one, something good happens.

We are going to have a treat today she says out on the street, while junior plasters his face with some sticky sweets, yeah says the kid, now we are really living mom

, amen.