Focus in times of virus….

Laid up in hospital, nothing to do, hopefully you will recover, the advice of the physician, the nurse who comes when your buzzer goes off, time to eat, time to take your medication. She is on a visit to see her grandfather. Down the corridor and second room to the left, she breezes along. A big smile is prepared before she enters the room, she wonders what form he will be in, he is a grumpy sort, but kind. Doesn’t fire but straight.

Hi she says, big smile on her face, she is wearing the obligatory mask, she pulls it aside while she bends to kiss him on the forehead, why are you wearing that he remarks, wheezing, nearly out of breath, the lungs not as strong as they used to be. He is approaching ninety, has been through the second world war, Korea, Vietnam, an army vet as the experience tells you.

We all have to wear them now, it’s the law.

It takes your mind off the other stuff he replies.

What do you mean by that she says. …

He drifts off to sleep, she leaves him to have the quite moment, she waits. He is in a dream, it’s not dreaming, he is a boy again, on summer retreat with friends, the two week camp they used to have during the summer break. Climbing walls, chasing cows, trying to climb the neighbors apple trees without getting caught, playing cowboys and Indians. She watches the expression change on his face, the array of smiles, what gives him the thrill, he is old, the life he lived, she can only imagine. Suddenly he wakes up, he is shocked to see her still there.

you must have been dreaming she says.

What?

You have a smile on your face, I was watching you.

Oh that he says.

there was a time when…

Children played, they slept in the same bed, teenagers, went about together during the day, no anxiety, no stressed parents, no one anxious, no one concerned with predators, no thoughts such as these existed whatsoever. He rambles on. and water you could drink from the tap, that was till they modernized it all. He looks at her.

She thinks, old man, what does he know.

I think it’s time to go she says. She pushes her mask to the side, tips his forehead with his lips, see you soon she says, whatever he replies.

later, she retells the story of the visit to her sister, how was he she says. He will live to a hundred, but I didn’t like the creepy stares of the male nurse, he scared me. What do you mean.

Solomon sighed, the difference in the ages, and the imaginings in the mind. The stuff that is fed into them, and the anxieties that last forever. The virus was a topic of conversation all over the world. It refocused the minds on the living.

 

Saint Patrick, an ode to Yeats, Behan, Oscar wilde, and a host of others, the sages of the past…..

 

This is pulled from the archive, it’s the National day of Ireland, so in these times of trial, lets reminded ourselves all, of the struggles we have all got through….

 

The world is beautiful, Have you ever thought about it, the world that is, is it not beautiful in places. We call those places national parks, so many miles of ocean across all frontiers, touching each other in special places the way the sun used to be, and still is in those extra special spaces, now we get burned frozen or flooded instead, except of course for those special places, and the bank manager we wish him dead, the women and their faces we can’t stop looking, the hours spent grooming their façade well look at TV no frowns allowed can’t you tell, a little perfume on the hips lipstick on the lips, as mothers seek safe refuge to build a nest as well, then an heirloom arrives the result of love so they said, children of course keep on watching and waiting, it’s a show they’ve already heard, Disney shows written by old pro’s words they use children in the viewfinder, they used to call it inspiration, today they ration the dead, literally and bury them live on TV, I won the lottery the dredge is no more, no smart opinions to get high on, pure doesn’t give you headaches, it kills you instead, don’t tell Santa he said.
But it’s a pity really, having tossed so much of our future away, the consequence of pure greed that the poorest will pay for instead, they’ve cut back the bird crumbs this week I heard, poor crow, shot at three times dived bombed by a sparrow hawk, a busted wing he hung on, two miles up the road and he’d be fed, earthquake on the TV, the world is falling apart, live on TV of course, you’ve guessed it CNN they are the first to call to help, world latches on cameras roll on carelessly, footage is worth more when you’re dead, no point saving the sick across the world, cant get them together like a Spielberg movie, we’ll rely on old footage. Isn’t the world beautiful he said, the luck of the Irish they always said it was worth waiting for, amen. He said if they gave up the drink, shur they could do anything, well…

World Slows Down

Can’t sound it, sound, action to her, affects inner harmony, will I get up, she glances at her I-phone. To others it seems extravagant, to her its a diagnostic tool, she’s a trainee. Irritating, will I. Her shift starts in, she dips her eyes on the phone, she is precise, a trainee surgeon, doing the steps. Her fingers are long and graceful. Where they have been; last evening, inside the chest of an elderly man, noise disappears, music again, continues reading. She lives in a three room, ignoring the bathroom; everyone has one of those, as vital as a healthy rectum, a healthy mind, the article she is reading.

She reads the reports, everything medical is her news, her life is being donated to helping others, if lucky she will have a family along the way. The Corona Virus, she had been reading about it; a virus that doesn’t react to conventional drugs. She thinks of Marie Curie, all the other scientists, who spent their entire lives researching the future; few of them had any interest in patents. Planes have slowed, people are staying away from crowded places, some wear masks, they’ve been doing that in Hong Kong for ages; some call it the the last plague. She sighs; as a woman, she wants to be seen as a mother in the making, a precious human being; she is tired of the way they trivialized the flesh, could they not have learned to love a little more. She takes a deep breath, the operation she has in front of her is her first full heart transplant, she assisting. Calm, slow, her hands are so important.

In an office, a whiz kid press’s the buttons, moves funds from the Cayman’s to Cypress. He loves it when it”s uncertain, so many to take advantage of.

Generations

The pot in the yard, the food is mostly vegetable, no one is worrying about the shops, they are miles away, no phone, no mail, primitive living. Years later, mobile phones in hand, not enough vegetables, and too many shops, everyone focused on the word bargain, modern living. Solomon was looking back on the steps we took, the inventions, the speed of life, how things hurry up, the elderly sent to homes, focus on the future, our greatest worry, the loss of our mobile.

The current generation, from 2,000 on, distant from many of the habits many grew up in. International travel, expansion of services, combined thinking, networking, trying to get a handle on opportunity, trying to overcome the opposition, funding is vital, no one does it for free. The Mayan calender’s warnings, the world will change after the year 2,000, some thought it would come to an end. In someways it has already, the turning point, the emotional gap between generations, how empathy for the past is over shadowed, by the fast thinking millennials, who under the barrage of the social network, have no time to dwell on how things as they were.

Solomon was reflecting; what would the current millennials think of older generations.

The Healing Spirit

He is in the bed, there are days, and this a heavy one, his mind is trouble, apart from the pain, there are memories. Lying on the bed, all the time in the world to think, the only noise, the coughs and roars of others in the wards, the rush of feet on the corridor, old age he sighed, wishing he could get to his feet. He has a rush of thoughts, it’s as if all that is wrong, his mistakes have come to overtake him, crush him inside. Fight he says, trying to push the images away; it’s a collage of all the harm he has encountered, why did I not do more. Please God, release me from this nightmare, please, he pleads, how I wasted my life, why did I gather all those things; the previous week he was worried about the insurance cover on his classic car collection; at this moment he doesn’t care if they all suddenly rust, what does it matter when you can’t take it with you. That was before the stroke. Alone in a private room, who needs time to think when what they have to think of is only about themselves.

Solomon had lunch with a good friend, a co believer; they were exchanging Godly wisdom, the conversation was alive, there was energy, the conversation they have; the lives that had touched them in many happy ways. How the heart fills with light, when you look outside yourself, how the body has time to heal, when you don’t have to stress yourself out. Rest sighed Solomon to his friend, a very thoughtful soul, who spent most of their days, encouraging the words of eternal life, rest is essential; as he pointed out to his friend, gesturing with h

is hands to his fellow diners; no one here got here on their own, no one ever does, amen.

Extremism

Getting along, understand your neighbors, no real divisions, sounds like heaven, one side of the coin, the dispossessed, the vulnerable, the victims of their upbringing, the inability to escape family values, the interests the family share, failing politicians, and the right wing left wing extremism, busy burrowing into the psyche via the internet, and the fake news syndrome, those pushing agendas causing chaos, undermining, in the hope of unsettling everyone who does not share their views, the other side of the coin.

Solomon was talking with an Islamic professional, and in the course of the chat, Solomon was doing the talking, his Islamic friend says, this extremism, it’s been going on all across the world, have you not noticed. Both He and Solomon were believers, and he wondered, what was all the difference about. When examined, his friend was right, the stress caused by extreme Islam, the non loving version, had been a cancer across the Islamic world for quite some time, and the source of many wars,far away nations got involved in. Then there was the question of Jesus, recognized by all the main religions, the bridge between them all. Why had no one tried to build that bridge. Perhaps, it was time for this to happen. Allowing the extremists to dictate to the rest of us was tyranny. A common prayer was needed, amen.

Into the west, the situation was much the same. far right, extreme left hoping to take advantage of the so called change. Was it not a time for a reasoned debate on the prospect facing us all. Solomon was just saying it. There was a growing band of disenchanted souls, and they were not alone, and there are these extreme groups waiting to size them up. Dear Father in Heaven, keep an eye on their plans and turn them into babbling fools, amen.

the system

looking for victims to fill  the system,

a system no one dares to challenge,

afraid of the risks of letting it all go,

too many dependent too many involved,

got to love the system so underhand,

creates fears never fixes them,

everyone working to protect the system,

going along hand in hand smiling,

does it remind you of another time?,

great system that seeks victims daily,

sends your children to the war zone,

brings them home broken and despairing,

provides them with health care and medals,

great system that keeps filling with victims,

Imagei’m not a member of the system,

i dont want to grow old and fat,

so goodbye to the old system friends,

God Most does not like it either,

you’ve got a very good friend in deed,

if your not a part of the system,

amen