Flying Spirit

Te Amo, she turns her head, she hasn’t heard that in awhile, she’s a migrant worker, and an illegal, she is waitressing,  the cook is flirting with her again, she smiles. Meanwhile there are three tables that need to be cleared and three other girls like her, vulnerable, waiting to take her job, no slip ups. She passes a table, two men in suits, are they immigration, she pretends not to look, we ordered two coffee’s one says. She nods, rushes to the table, her eye on the two men, are they there to spy on her. Being an illegal is hard work, she has moved every six months, trying to keep ahead of the posse. She possess’s a secret, one she can’t explain, not in the normal meaning of the word; she carries the Holy Spirit inside her. Remain calm, she repeats this to herself daily, evening, before sleep, calm, you live inside me she explains. It’s as if she carries a special child inside her.

Our coffee, she passes the table, makes a nod, coming she says. It’s lunchtime, the busy period, but she doesn’t mind, there are other young girls like her, who are not that lucky. One of them dances the tables, and smiles at leering men all day, it’s a job, provides shelter, things can get worse.

She fills the cups, makes for the two men, sorry she says, setting  down the two cups. His jacket slides to the side, as if he is reaching for something, she spots the handle of a gun, law enforcement he says, sorry if I upset you, she smiles nervously. He nods. He wears a brown belt, he fingers the clasp, a sign, they are on my side, she sighs…..

Multi Person Syndrome

Who Am I today, what a question to ask yourself, then again, if you exhibit yourself in the world, you want to be seen, or create the impression, how do you want to be seen, Pope Francis has a woman grab his hand and arm, two handed,

she pulls him off step, he scowls, taps her on the hand, it’s the day he is due to make a speech on violence towards women, and there he is seen slapping a woman, tap tap, then henceforth, like a scorned child, he retreats to the temple, what, and the greatest wonder of all, no security police are needed to intervene, no guns are drawn. Every other leader in the world, would have had a posse of guns around him, and the pictures would have been all over the world, where security analysts, international experts, police handlers and others, would have been interviewed on the big TV, where all day, the story would be repeated, again and again, when in fact nothing in truth had happened at all. Are we all that easy to manipulate.

Solomon was wondering how to reconcile, all the violence in the world, with the will of Peace and Love, the will of God in fact, do we ever listen to the words of Jesus, God is inside you, tap your heart, inside you, stop, but does God mix well with violence, or more succinctly, can you Love God and Love violence at the same time, is it possible. It was a mute point, the year is 2020, the changes are continuing, miracles and great events, weather warnings, many will be praying for Help, petitioning the Holy God of All, so, with wisdom in mind, you don’t need to fill the head with violent images, neither do children, amen.

The Same One he said…really..

 

I should be here, he is awkward, there are lights on the tree, the air is filled with joy, it’s made for children, the wonder and the surprise, Ahmed is surprised, they celebrate Christmas, the birth of Jesus, the same Jesus we pray to, why aren’t we having a celebration like this. His friend TJ is showing him his home, their parents are away, normally they would not be allowed to do this, the adults not allowing it, but since they are children, they don’t have any of this bias.

Solomon sighed, how barriers are so easily created, when a little wisdom could short change this negative approach easily. Children enjoying the promise of Joy, families and friends being a little more thoughtful, people more together than usual, the world a little warmer in some hearts. Jesus, it’s the same one, for all of us ,why allow a little dogma separate you from joy.  The rules we create that divide us and the walls we build around us.

Stuff we need to get right, amen.

 

 

 

Manuals in Self Harm

The tips you pick up online, how to get ahead, how to read the stock charts, how to make a million, how to deceive your parents, how to deceive anyone. The words you need to use, how to respond, how to remain calm, how to get others to lose focus, how to run your own cult, how to control anyone, finding out as much as you can, the stuff you can use to create the impression of knowing them, how to undermine trust, how to get them to run, the world is a world of confused ants, women who diet but never succeed, men who strive while so few succeed, there has to be a better way, does that sound real. The story of fake news, many were complaining about it, how opinions are twisted, false ideas giving head space, all from the different manuals in self-harm. If you exhibit the signs of mental well being if you behave this way, who do you want to be, just follow the manual?

Solomon read many conflicting stories, heard many views, why believe in that Church, my version is better, there is contradiction everywhere, a constant news feed. The signs from above, the sun that shines on everyone, the lessons for everyone, it’s strange how disaster or coming disasters get us to think as one, it’s going to affect us all, how are we going to deal with it. When all is said and done, compassion is not taking advantage of others, love is being patient not demanding all the time, and forgiveness, it’s something rarely practised at all, but spoken about. Solomon listened to many differing opinions, the ways the mountain is climbed, we are better, they are ignorant, they haven’t evolved, he heard so many arguments. For all their arguments, Spirit is central, it’s inside you, you make choices, it’s not complicated, same as the parables of Jesus, why was he given such wisdom, or do you need to ask. Did he create envy, or a desire to hear more words of wisdom?, and when you hear those words, does it not put your heart at rest!

Old Bones

The door swings open on the bleep, procedures, security at the old folks home, they are afraid of intruders, while the inmates watch the door hoping someone will visit, anyone it seems, the comparison, just a lesson, who we let into our lives, and who we decide is good enough, the human race, old bones in the end. He climbs the stairs, it’s a bright spot, those inside are lucky, well cared for, and it smells fresh, none of the odors you get as you get older, yeah, that stuff, ever wonder why in big cities they have those sweet smells, the council does the perfume routine, and pours it into the underground sewers, how sweet, we are all the same in the end, old bones.

The blip, he enters the room, tired face, years gone by, etched with memory, and as the days close out, the regrets too, Solomon is there to add comfort, not that it will be that much, he knows how to raise the Spirit, and when the Spirit rises, old bones are renewed, the wrinkles turn into smiles, and the old bones are no longer old bones, but a friend again.

He listened to the radio story, the inhabitants of the home, the eyes pointed towards the door, they are hoping for a visitor, but they never come, says the nurse in charge. Solomon sighed, we all fade to some degree, we all get old, we all have memory, and then we become undesirable, well, not as useful as before, old in many cases. Did we not realize the wisdom lying in those beds, and what they can teach us. He takes a deep breath, naive perhaps, but you never dieP1060580 when you continue to learn, even when it came to old bones, amen.

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.

In the Heads of us all…..

Can’t cope, can’t concentrate, you keep on running and those problems they keep following us. Life was a field of lava, it was all depending where you were. watching it from afar it’s not serious, up close it can all become consuming. He wondered, the flow of the lava and the human flow, or the race. He wanted to create a sermon that would help the congregation, they had been terrorized to long with the message of doom and damnation. They needed hope, a version of it that would stay in their minds. maybe that is the reason Jesus spoke in story terms: the legend would pass on, and while it may altar according to the sort of people who relayed it, basically, the use of terms common to that particular culture, the nugget would remain the same. That’s it, he saw it. The lava that flowed down the mountain, were the troubles that followed you, the problems you never dealt with, while salvation was the truth, how simple did that sound, how would he put it into the sermon, the performance was an hour away.

The Boss

lends you a soul, a way to do good, sends you the prophets, to remind you that all of you, are a gift, and talents is as well, amen. Finding a meaning, do good, clean up the act, your soul is not yours, neither is love, it’s yours to farm that’s all, and if you do a good job, as the boss said, you’ll be given more, amen.

Beat Me Up Scotty

The first blow sends her into shock, she has never seen him this way. The expression on her face shocks him, she has never seen her that way either. She feels her face, rubs the cheek, feels for anything broken. His adrenaline gets a hit, he is shocked at it. I’ll never do that again he swears. They embrace, he rubs her face, she is afraid, it will never happen again babe. The trust she has, is shaken, but she forgives him, it wont happen again. He’s a record of doing it. He knows how women cowl, give in and blame themselves. Love is a very potent form of dependency for those who already feel vulnerable.

Blood on her face, he is getting high on it, the kick to the ribs, her arms go defensive, he is getting excited she is worried about the kids, doesn’t want the neighbors to find out either. It’s repeated every few months, the doctor ignores the bruises, her friends had stopped calling round, just when she needs them, she is all alone. Blames herself, Stop. The angels were in the room watching, sends the helpers. Artists write songs, authors put words on it, social services call to the house. Dudes, didn’t you know there is a God!. Solomon was not in doubt, he had seen so much, it was enlightening. In a moment God could turn everyone into babbling fools, as sure as he allowed those with his Spirit to perform miracles, amen.

Actors!

Frown lines dispensed with, will last a little longer, computer graphics that can ape reality, too good to be true, it’s not reality but it looks good, over dramatic story lines, did we upset anyone yet, and spin that only experts can provide, did we tame the tiger yet!, actors. Solomon was reading a story, getting to know yourself stuff, and the twisted views of many, and the hatred they just don’t want to forget, actors. Filling the vacuum, over dosing the mind, stuff it will you, till they have no peace of mind, actors. In the old days, you believed in Great Spirit, stuck to the task, and got rewarded. In the modern world, you stuck to the task, and had to be wary of all, as Jesus said, one of them will betray you. Solomon sighed, the more they dug the bigger the hole they created for themselves, and no amount of acting was going to solve that, now that the light had come from above, amen. Did you ever see a storm turn back!