Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Grandma.


Grandma.

A mature lady of age, sold all she had including her bed and two dishes, went and bought a used car, drove it home. The next morning the car wouldn't start.

 Holding the grandchild's hand, they walked a lengthy way to school, too exhausted and too hot of a day to walk  back.

 Sat down on the sidewalk, and waited all day under the tree near the school.

 On the way back, they stopped by the car lot, the child went inside the air-conditioned office, and asked the comfortable salesman, why did you sell my grandma a lemon?

 The smirking salesman replied, I didn't think the frail woman was going to live another day to tell any one about it.

 Such are the answers of colonizers and war mongers... .


Forgotten Mysticism

Published by Mystic In Your Kitchen

Helpful hand.


helpful hand.

For all the help I have given, equally I have been punched, and the more I'm being punched the more I want to help.

The pupil asked the helpful Sage, Why, are you a sadistic Mystic? No child, but I'm trying to wake up the cruel in the conquered land, for they have forgotten it's still no one's land... .   

The Forgotten Mysticism

Published by Mystic In Your Kitchen

I AM THE PEOPLE.


I AM THE PEOPLE.

Can I feel which is that the cry of the people?
Can I hear which is that the laughter of the people?
Can I sense which all that are the people?

The forgotten mysticism.

THE SELF.


  The self.

Upon entering the hall of learning with his bemused expression and glossy eyes, as he gazed at the assembly of vociferous pupils, shook his head, paused for a short while, took a deep breath, then quietly he asked all, What do you see when you look at your individual selves?

The brave and vain, eagerly answered, "Beauty, Strength and Harmony."

The Sage walked over to the proud, and stared at him in wonder, then replied by a second Question, "What unforgiving luxury has done this to you?"

"You're Dismissed for today, come back tomorrow with another answer, One would hope it's a mindful one."

The second dreaded raising his hand, 
As a realist that he is, answered, "Despair and Sorrow."

The sage told him, "You may stay another day, and teach us more of what you really know!"

The Third hand up, of the painfully aware pupil, looked at each of the class room mentally absent attendees, looked outside the window, and back at him self in the mirror.

 ..."When I look at my self? All of that, that I see, is the surface, the same with the ocean and the earth crust, a pure vile pollution and discontent..."

Congratulation said the sage, "Today you have graduated into the obscure reality."

"You may start immediately by teaching others about the painful truths of separation of Me and You..." 

The forgotten Mysticism 

Sunday, October 16, 2016

We get ti live another day for the chores


We get to live another day for the chores. 

On this misty holy morning of Sunday, I gathered my notepad case and the produce bag, Into the green fossil fuel box, meandered my way through the slope road, and out of the crevasse of the canyon, yielded onto the death highway, that's armed by mankind arsenals of roaring motorcycles, and diesel trucks, in the era of the long awaited new age of the golden dawn, of carbon monoxide and dioxide, if one happened to be travailing on a public road? Trailing behind a diesel vehicle, the choices given of breathing the toxic fumes, are but only one, at last, by the open market place, where people swap ideas and meet their expectations and needs, Good-Morning senior Ramon, the eighty year slender three and half limbs and the forth half is a hook, had lost its ghost the first day on a job, after passing through the barbwire fence, that separates the native from their own conquered land, so to earn more then one dollar a day, for twelve hour shift, back in the day, at the age of sixteen, his first stop at a tortilla bakery, one hour into the job, the sleeve of his shirt got  caught into the cogwheel of the conveyor belt, last time he would use his hand and forearm, the usual, as I pick the fruits and vegetables simultaneously, a sentence here and there, about his week and some-times about his day.

One hand spooning the shaved red ice Slurpee, and the other hand holding the grande' paper cup, resting it, on his exaggerated protruding girth. 

{Q} The curious customer asks, are you a chef?

{A} No sir, but, I assist those who wishes to transition from animal base habit of eating, to a healthy way of eating.

The man in the chair full of questions, are you vegan? Before I could answer his inquiry, he continues, well my daughter is vegetarian, and she couldn't influence me to follow in her foot steps, but you don't look like a vegan, you're robust stature tells me otherwise.

 In addition to his extended waist, glimmered by shiny metals and stones, that gives him extra balancing weight. chained by the cross around his neck. I waited for him, to take his first breath, after mutable, multiple catapult firing questions. 

{Q} Sir, The sign on your neck it suggest, that you're a devoted Christian, yes?

{A} You better believe it. 

{Q} Thank you for answering, That's fantastic, Sir, that means, you believe in a creator, that created all that we see around us, yes? between his slow inverted snob slurps.

{A} Yes, of course.

{Q} Fair enough, Why a creator would want any one to eat another sentient being that feels pain, and is more aware of nature and tuned to its needs, then all of the two legged put together? 

As he hung him self on his own cross, then he fired his next round of ammunition, by stating profoundly. 

{A} I used to be atheist, and didn't believe, but now, I do. 

{Q} That's wonderful, does this mean that, you don't believe in harming another life form?

{A} No, of course not, but if they don't believe in Christ they'll be gone. 

{Q} Is this why you're eating animal flesh, because they don't believe in Christ?

He paused for a moment, as he glared, realizing his contradiction, of what he just said, to remove the gilt off of his shoulder, yeah, they will be gone in the rapture. 

{Q} Sir, fair enough, my next question if I may? What is your view on the situation in the promised land, where by the so called settlers bulldoze peoples homes and build right on top of the Palestinian ancestral land? 

{A} They don't believe in Christ. 

Sir, neither do the men in black suites and long beards.

Last time i looked the word settler up, It explains;
A person who settle in an area. Typically one with no or a few previous inhabitants.


{Q} Sir If you wish we could continue this conversation, or stop while we can? 

{A} No, no.

{Q} Sir, do you mean no, or no, yes? 

{A} No, I mean, ah, mean yes, we could continue until I finish my shaved ice Slurpee. 

{Q} Sir, then, I better ask the next round, to give you a chance to really enjoy your treat, suddenly his slurping the colored ice, went from one spoon at a time, to double, to triple, by the look on his face, it gave a whole new meaning to Brian freeze. 

{Q} Sir If you don't mind me asking the next sensitive question? What is going to happen to those who belong to a different religion?

{A} They 're going to hell!

{Q} But Sir, A minute ago, you agreed, that the creator, created all and every thing, that means, and including all of the belief systems and dogmas, What happened, he or she has changed its mind, and now ready to condemn it's own creation? 

{A} Due to his excruciating Brian freeze, huffed an puffed, and onto the land of oblivion...

The question remains Is this the age of ignorance or the the age of stupid, Or better yet, the age of the mental  golden cage?. 

We get ti live another day for the chores




We Get to Live Another Day for the Chores 

On this misty holy morning of Sunday, I gathered my notepad case and produce bag and hopped into the green fossil fuel box, meandering my way through the sloping and winding road and out of the crevasses of the canyon, and yielded onto the highway of death that is armed by mankind's arsenals of roaring motorcycles and diesel trucks.
 In an Era of the so-called New Age of long awaited "Golden Dawn" of carbon monoxide and dioxide. If one happened to be traveling on this contaminated public road trailing behind a diesel vehicle, the choices given of breathing the toxic fumes are but only one. 
At last, I arrived at the open market place where people swap ideas and meet their expectations and needs.

My first landing was at his trading stand and I greeted the old friend. "Good-Morning Senor Ramon." He is of eighty years, stolid and slender, a three -limbed man his fourth limb having been replaced with a titanium hook. It had happened back in the day at the age of sixteen.   After escaping the needless, extreme danger of thirst, hunger, sunburn, gunshots, and being chased and bitten by border patrol dogs, he had finally reached the barbed wire fence that separates the natives from their own conquered land all in order to earn more then one dollar a day, for a twelve hour shift.
His first stop was at a tortilla bakery. One hour into the job, the sleeve of his white, stained shirt snatched into the cogwheel of the conveyor belt. That is when the right limb lost its ghost and the last time he would use the hand and forearm as he knew it. 

 As usual, I selectively pick the fruits and vegetables simultaneously exchanging a sentence here and there about the events of our week and sometimes about the present day. I couldn't help but to notice a man listening to our conversation with one ear focussed on us and the other on his beverage-filled cup.

With one hand spooning the shaved red ice Slurpy, the other hand was holding the grande' paper cup and resting it on his exaggerated protruding girth, he directs his voice at me and curiously asks, "Are you a chef?"

   Accused of being a chef, I reply, "No Sir, but I do assist those who wish to transition from an animal- based habit of eating to a healthy and wholesome way of living." In addition to his extended waist, glimmered by shiny metals and stones giving him an extra balancing weight and chained by the cross around his neck, I waited for him to take his first breath. After firing mutable and multiple catapulting questions, he continues.

  "Are you a Vegan?" Before I could answer his inquiry, he interjects with a second statement. "Well, my daughter is vegetarian, and she couldn't influence me to follow in her footsteps. But you don't look like a person who's vegan. Your robust stature tells me otherwise."

 I retort, "Sir. The symbol on your neck suggests that you are a devoted Christian. Is this so?"

 "You better believe it." 

"Thank you for answering so honestly. That is fantastic. From my understanding this means that you believe in a creator that created all that we see around us, yes?" 

In between his slow and messy slurps, this enlarged man responds,"Yes, of course."

"Fair enough", I say. "Why would a creator want anyone to eat another sentient being that feels pain, and more importantly,  is clearly aware of nature and tuned in to its needs more then all of the two- legged humans put together?" 

As he hung himself on his own cross, he then fired his next round of ammunition, by stating profoundly.  "I used to be an atheist, and didn't believe, but now I do." 

 "That is wonderful, does this mean that you do not believe in harming another life form at this point of your personal realization?"

 "No, of course not", he assures me. "But if they don't believe in Christ they'll be gone." 

 "Is this why you are eating animal flesh, because the animals do not believe in Christ?" 

He paused for a moment as he glared, realizing his own contradiction.  To remove the weight of guilt off of his shoulders, he nodded. "Yeah, they will be gone in the rapture." 

 "Fair enough," I reply in a sarcastic mode. "That sounds more appropriate. My next question if I may? What is your view on the situation in the Promised Land, whereby the so-called settlers bulldoze Palestinian homes to build their own on the native's ancestral land?" 

 "They don't believe in Christ." 

"But Sir. Neither do the men in black suits and long beards.  If you wish, we could continue this conversation or stop while we can? (The slurpy started to reflect it's color in his face).

 No! No!

 Sir. Do you mean no as no, or no as a yes? 

 "No. I mean, ah,yes," We could continue until I have finished my shaved ice slurpy." 

"Sir. Then I better ask the next round, to give you a chance to really enjoy your Sunday treat." Suddenly his slurping the artificial flavored colored ice complemented by his superficial belief, went from one spoon at a time, to double, to triple. By the look on his face, it gave a whole new meaning to brain freeze, 

" Sir. If you don't mind me asking the next sensitive question, what is going to happen to those who belong to a different Sect or religion?

'They're going to hell!" he answered with a fundamental conviction.

" But Sir. A minute ago you agreed that your Creator created all and everything.  That means you are including all of the belief systems and dogmas. What happened? Did the Creator change its mind and now is ready to condemn its own creation? 

 Due to his brain freeze, he huffed and puffed and scurried along into the land of oblivion to the cage where he belongs.

The question remains, is this the Age of Ignorance or the Age of Stupid?  Better yet, is it the Age of the Mental Golden Cage? 

As I prepared to leave the produce stand, Senor Ramon raised his hook in disbelief of man's democracy disguised by his hypocrisy.

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