lets get Serious!

Jim, you can’t hide your shotgun under the bed, there’s three in the closet, and I’ve got an automatic under the pillow, what if I reach down in the middle of the night, looking for my cigarette lighter, and the damn thing goes off, what if you happen to be stepping out of the bed at the same time, what If Jim!, Honey replies Jim, you know when you have that cigarette, It’s because you are after..Oh Jim, you are my honey…

Three nights later, the mooing stops, Linda reaches for her after the moment cigarette, she accidentally drops her lighter on the floor, reaches under the bed, the sidelight is out, the bulb Jim never fixed. Boom, she triggers the shotgun instead, lucking Jim only had his left foot hanging over the side of the bed, he only lost four toes, not the big one…

I told you smoking was bad for your Health dear moaned Jim, while in the ambulance on his way to the medical center. Linda sighs,m seriously Jim, you should have fixed the bulb, then this wouldn’t have happened, daH!.

Solomon wondered about poor Jim, his distraught wife, their small tragedy, their life. Being Gun Heavy wasn’t so smart. Well, it’s the same as leaving your Porn Collection on the dining room table when there are children in the House, you’d never do that, unless you were trying to influence them that way. Does that sound logical.

Safer to keep it out of sight on the Phone I suppose.

Advertisement

Secret Worlds According to Victor Hugo

The history of nations, the oppression of the weak and vulnerable, the call for a fairer system, while the word of God failed, as preachers joined forces with those who lorded it over the lower classes, how the works of Jesus were forgotten, while clever men wrote books explaining it all, in accordance to what they thought, their words, only pebbles in the wall of understanding, their pride overcomes them, same way a starlet these modern days soaks up the accolades. Solomon was always a fan of the french nation, no one forgets the revolution, and those that came after those mad days, don’t have to be told, you don’t lord it over people, you have to love them all. Victor was a rare exception, he says it well, mixes history with a story of redemption.

Solomon loved the streets of Paris, as a tourist it wasn’t a struggle to survive, he had time to wonder, the long lunch, the dress, the bread, and the wine, the pride of the wine maker, the classifications, how they clap at the end of the movie, okay, so they don’t have big houses, four rooms could be their mansion, entertaining and meeting others was the life, the early morning argument in the cafe, men in their work overalls discussing politics before they went out to sweep the streets, their Pride in the Nation, blessed they believe by God.

So in order to overcome the powers of the authority, you have secret languages and signs, words, obfuscation as some would say, the hidden truth that Greed can destroy, you have a soul, and when mixed with good love, there is great power. Victor and his friends tried to remind us of this, I guess they still are. There is a God they all say, amen.

The Passing

It was coming, the soul had a few clouds around it, there were things that needed to be said, permission to move on, before the body says goodbye, the great cruise ship of eternity waiting. Solomon was telling the Great God, he was greater than even the words of old, the wonders of the light, the messengers he met along the way, the thousands of angels that waited, prepared and armed, it was time to let go. Like a child about to go on a great journey, a mother about to give birth, the pain and the excitement, both have to let go, then the Spirit is set free. She pushes, there is sweat all over her, why do you make it so difficult, the angel is in the corner, she is in for a great surprise, go on  girl, it’s going to be all right. The crown appears, the nurse squeezes her hand, it’s going to be a minute even less, the rest of the body emerges, she has finally given birth. The dot that is invisible, that is only visible under a microscope, carries the history or habits of generations, that invisible dot, would you believe it, I hope you realize this is not made up.

The soul, the friend enters, well a friend always makes you feel good about yourself, even when your up and down, those who are not so friendly leave you with a frown, anxious, and happier when they are gone. It’s going to be fine Solomon says, no moaning or temp feelings, this is permanent, yes, there are those who alert us to all the is harmful, that is because they pass on their own fears, the old soul smiles, he believes it, he knows.

The scales of Justice, what has been the impact of your life, did you reap a harvest of Spiritual love, did you bear good fruit, were you a tricky sort, trying to get the best out it, without given anything back, did you raise your nose as you chided others with your judging, as those in your prayer group said, they are not like us, or did you do what Jesus recommended and reached out. The old soul, a good Samaritan, his life moves on, a gift to another, when the Spirit will get even stronger, amen. Grief, well, if you upset the most high, you have plenty to be anxious about, and grieve I would, but if you bring the light with you, what have you to worry about. Solomon sighed, He will always be my friend.  The last moments they shared, a real good smile.

He’s just like Grand dad, they group around the new born, amazing, tears in their eyes, amen.

Flight of Destiny….. could be a diva’s dream….

 

 

The wings rise in union, the small creature is carrying a message, destiny calls, obstacles in the sky, the usual predators and obstacles, and the latest threats, the magnified air, the invisible microwaves, can send the radar spinning, little dove is one of many, that have set off before, it’s a journey across the world. Little heart, she recalls the day she was born, the shell cracked open, it wasn’t easy, she had to move around until it fell away. Interesting, you noticed everything around you, the beginning, your first breath of fresh air. Never did you imagine you’d be flying high up there, even if you were made for the journey, it’s a surprise every time, the lift and you’re airborne, no jet or exhaust fumes. Sally flaps her wings, a little slower than before, her tempo is slowing, it will soon be time to rest.  Rather than cross the ocean at the widest point, when the others didn’t return, it was decided you’d cross as much land, in case it was the water that caused their demise. You are trying to follow the map, but you found out early, that even the landmarks had changed, cities where there were towns, but some are still there. A church steeple or another holy place, the only places where you can find safe nights rest, clouds on the horizon too, rain, it only adds weight, normally it wouldn’t matter, but this was not a normal journey, the message you carry, has the key that will open the gates of Heaven. A couple is getting married, and your arrival at a certain perch will be a sign, then the book is revealed, the holy men and women will unite.

The rise in electronic masts, the waves, the frequencies they interfere with, is putting your navigation skills to the test, but your one of the last ones, they said you did not fly that fast, lucky for you, it is giving you time to circle problems rather than immerse in them. The wings are heavy, you have been flying a Lindbergh, non-stop for five hours, you need a rest. It’s essential, put the wings down and have a good eat.

There is no need to carry anything, otherwise, you don’t fly, one of the great secrets, you and your kind know too well. The way humans worry, there you are waiting to gather a few crumbs, the conversations you hear, when they are troubled help is sent to them, an army of flying helpers, everyone has a specific purpose. The mind is tired, and you need to stay focused, the old teachers words, the reason you and all you feathery creatures were created, at the time, perhaps too young, you thought it was an exaggeration, now, in this time of stress, what you thought was an excess, it holding you in shape, strange words you sigh, the ache on the wing is forgotten, you could fly for hours if you stayed in this frame of mind.

Haven’t been home in a year, what is taking so long, when you get there you will be on time, what sort of timetable is this, that’s what they said to you at the beginning, what planning, you can never lose, then you remember the month you spent in the sun, unplanned, but you were having doubts, and the company was great.  Fresh homegrown bread with lots of grains every morning, berries and all sorts of fruit, some you only heard of, served to you every morning by the gentle mullah, while there was a war going on in all directions, maybe it was wise to stay when you did. Two weeks at the monastery, they treated you as if you were a royal guest, boy did you live it up that fortnight and put on a couple of ounces you had to shed before you were able to take flight. There, you spot the steeple, the head changes, you turn the flaps on your wing, you do a recognisance, there could be a hidden mast, and that’s an experience you don’t want to repeat, sent you off course for five hundred miles, your lower in the sky, you do a second pass, nothing dangerous, it’s a real monastery, not one of those private homes, it’s safe to land.  Some damn map you say.

 

 

She wakes from her dream, her first interview today, a young aspiring actor, she has a big heart, wants to play those roles that inspire, give heart, if only she can overcome those obstacles. Her bedroom door opens, her breakfast, eggs benedict, her eyes lift, just the start I needed……what a dream, imagine being a little white dove, do you know what that means….

Open Your Heart

Are you listening, are you too absorbed in yourself to hear, is all you hear your own voice, do you wonder when you read the headlines, can you feel the pain that is felt. When you pass a stranger on the street do you nod, acknowledge, do you carry on down the street, have you forgot the  man begging on the street, when is the last time you opened your heart, have you joined one of those perpetual complaint groups, do you smile a snide smile when you see those above you fall, do you take pleasure in the harm others suffer, are you listening. When was the last time you did something off the cuff that was just good, have you practised all those great sentiments you tell others about, or do you hum inside when they listen to your voice, are you a complete airhead, all noise and no substance, well, when did you last open your heart.

I was hurt he said, he was a bastard she said, recriminations,

so I joined a help group instead, and made a career out of it, when you could have opened your heart and did what Jesus did, forgive, even went to the cross to get the point out, don’t bring the baggage with you, it will drown you.

Solomon smiled, the fingers were ripping across the keyboards, well they always did, he didn’t have to make it up, just let your spirit do the talking and watch the magic emerge. Open your heart, there are so many blessings waiting to be poured out, don’t fill yourself with resentment and hatred, we don’t all eat meat, and sushi is interesting, porridge too. We are all made to be different, same as those flowers, and the birds, wake up, amen. He encountered the Great Spirit, the seal of the divine, it is there, you need to clean up the inside and learn to forgive, amen. Open your heart. If another does you harm, relax, God settles all accounts, and with all the outpouring of Spirit, there are many quaking in their boots, believe me, amen, smile, this is just the beginning.

All you need is a good night’s sleep

Close the eyes, no need to be anesthetized, as happens in many busy lives, the ability to switch off,  impossible, the brain in a hurry, success buttons on full, how often it is said, you have what you want, when you’re truly happy on the inside, how many, the diva’s that need reassurance, the game that is forever playing out, then the inevitable collapse. In all the health books, the food is great advice, but without

good sleep, you wake jaded, what has happened you ask.

The money machine pumps it out, day and night, never stops running, the pressure to keep up, the new gadget, have to have that, the wife or husband or partner, there seems to be no downtime, less time for the children, meanwhile the President tweets, stuff he is going to shut down, knowing it won’t affect him personally, the religious hierarchy, it’s our way, we have been doing this for over a thousand years, the constant threat to those who challenge the system.

Well, take heart, and this is real, God is real, it’s not myth, and regardless of the regulations that are set, remember they are only regulations, and if unhappy with those in positions of authority, recall the words of old, as said by Jesus, those who take such high positions will be held accountable, so close your eyes tonight and sleep, think of a good memory, involve yourself in real loving adventures, and the help will come, goodnight, amen.

The Queen Bee

Jimmy Bee is on the trial, buzzing from flower to flower, shaking his rear, grabbing the pollen, filling up with Nectar, in order to provide sustenance for the Hive and all his colleagues, all their efforts aimed at keeping the Queen. Is there a human equivalent, are we too focused, do we all want to be self made, does our communities matter, are we too localized, do we need to expand our area of operations, imagine Jimmy Bee, flowers not so plentiful, has to extend the range of his travels, has less to bring home, and is slowly getting worn out, what are the prospects for the Hive and all who depend on it.

Spirit is like that sack Jimmy brings home to the Hive, the flowers are less plentiful, the air quality weakening, stress on all systems. The pollinator in trouble spells trouble for all, same with Spirit. The spin of the big voices are great, but as Jesus says, the follow up is not as clear cut. Are we going to pretend times are good when they need to change, just saying. In real time Solomon encountered the Spirit, it is something worth remembering, as the inner Spirit is renewed, interventions occur from the world divine. Imagine, how easy it is, to increase the Spirit, and how well you feel afterwards.

Can we make money out of this, the financial guru is shouting at the young broker, you have the scene and the movie. The broker turns rogue and sells out his friends. When we don’t put effort into Spiritual loving

growth, how can we pray with a full heart to a God that knows everything. If we don’t mind the bees, how can we expect to survive, another off the cuff remark, Einstein was good at that, mind the bees, amen.

Old Too Young

Bullies the older ones, gets away with it too, knows how to use words, can use past hurts, has no emotions whatsoever, has been beaten when young, imagines this is the way to get along, it’s the law of the jungle his father said, you have to be tough he said, he was in the middle of a little light refreshment, the belt in his hands, he was counting the welts on his small son’s back, never forget he shouts, the boy is afraid to cry, you get hit for that, he waits for his father to stop, then it will be happy faces again. The day is forgotten, the next day, he is in the play ground, there is an argument, it’s only a matter of time, before he puts his skills to the test, if he gets thrown out of school, he’ll get a reward when he gets home, well, his brother got his first bottle of vodka for the achievement, too old, his eyes are slanted, they are not wide open and wondering, there is no awe, it’s a case of what is there for me, that’s all, old too young.

Solomon sighed, the season of Christmas, the well being of Spirit, the time when the welfare of others ring the bells inside. He watched the Child, the eyes half closed, no excitement in them, they weren’t dashing here and there, instead, there was something cold, he wondered, when you see a face, you see the life, when you see it in one so young, there can’t be many doubts, old too young.

Young mother has committed herself to a life time relationship, much too young to make such a commitment, she has a child now, one on the way, he regularly beats her, well, he is passing it on, there is a life and this is the way, she is not looking forward to Christmas, no violence is all she wants and a few toys for the child, and the hope her children escape the misery that her life has become. Much too young, afraid of violence, can’t open her mouth, suffers depression, a never ending circle. Solomon sighed, once it goes in writing, it goes places, and then the good stuff happens, he’d seen it happen so often, just paint it with words, amen.

Train Sets and timetables…

She waits on the platform, checks her watch again, he’s late, but she’s not worried, he is aboard, the last time they met, was at a station just like this. her eyes are anxious, the wait has been long, the hour of arrival has passed, damn those railroad engineers, will they ever get their times right, same as asking all women to give birth at eight in the morning, so the rest of the workers can get on with it, she sighs, here it comes, the light is coming near, she can relax. Solomon sighed, wasn’t life like a train, you wait on the platform, waiting for ever it seems, then the light comes, and suddenly all you thought of, becomes more than real, cause you can feel it. How many had been patient for so long, the efforts of so many, the givers, their patience extended to the lengths of the earth. Smile, the time he encountered the Spirit, real time, it’s on the way, and so the changes are coming, and what is the driving energy, real time love. He heard the sigh in the heart, the words hit the insides that no other gift can give, the miracle of the Spiritual over the material, worth waiting for too….as for those who control, what grief, to think there is Heaven, welcome aboard dudes, I hope you have all been loving…

Hollywood is Burning….

What, the old man tries to raise his head, hearing is poor, what you say, Hollywood is burning, the words mean nothing to him, he is in a hospital bed. His daughter is reading the paper to him, she is trying to keep him interested, it’s the anniversary of his wife’s death too, he seems to be wondering about her, there are tears in his eye, slow weepy tears, tears of regret, you say something about Tom Hanks, the green mile being his favorite movie, No Dad, Hollywood is burning, he still doesn’t understand. No Spider man to rescue him, no superman to help him, no Iron man either, just the help of the public hospital and those who fund it, Hollywood, the word is one he associates with the lives of others, Hollywood always burned, burned into his memory.

Tom Hanks is thinking of running for President Dad, what do you think of that, do you hear me, Tom  Hanks is running for President, the old mans ears prick up, a crease covers his brow, you mean Donald Trump is dead, his eyes are open. No Dad, Donald Trump is in Paris, it says so in the papers, he’s at the George Cinq, where the paper says it costs $3,000 a night. The old man shakes his head, the election promises, the blue collar man’s friend, blue collar fraud, when an old man can’t find a hospital in his neighborhood and has to travel twenty miles to find a room to die in.

The daughter looks anxiously at her beloved Dad, she wants him to cheer up, give him a happy thought. There’s a Marilyn Monroe movie on tonight. His eyes widen, a round smile fills his face. his eyes twinkle, he turns his head to the side, looks at his youth, and says, I drove her in my cab once, and she left me a fifty dollar tip, some broad he says. His daughter nods, she has heard the story fifty times, it makes him smile. Hollywood was alive then he sighs…