Saturday, 31 October 2020

Stop Press

 It's Halloween now, and I've just posted a comic ghost story.

But November Beckons and we remember the dead.

I was so pleased today when I read a tv presenter's husband spoke his first word

It was Pain, but he is alive, and if we all keep on praying he'll be back 

where he belongs, by her side.

I prayer for him,when I saw his photo in the Press when Covid 19 got him

He and his wife looked so genuinely  happy, with eyes smiling

So obviously I said a prayer for him

I also prayed for Julia Skripol when she and her dad were poisoned

She has the Russia variant of my own mother's name

So Prayer does work, my mother taught me that

So keep on Praying, in the Covid times

There will be sunshine again

Just Pray for it

Just Hope for it

and don't Worry in the meantime

You could always read all my books, or just burn them on your log time.

As I talk to you Coldplay are singing FIX YOU

Lights will guide you home



Friday, 30 October 2020

A GHOST STORY FOR hALLOWEEN

 

A ghost story for Halloween

Ghosts get a fright of their Afterlives ©

By

Michael Casey

Lech, Boris and Gregorgi were a bit unsteady on their feet, well the new batch of vodka was very fresh, still slightly warm when they tested it. They had used new ingredients, potatoes, in fact it was more Irish Poteen than Eastern vodka, it had a kick and a half. Brian down the allotment had a few potatoes left over so the boys took them away, and thought what use they could make of them.

The new still in Warley Woods needed a bit of maturing, so if they made some poteen it would help flavour the inside of the still. Go ask a brewer if you want any more information, they used to say if you want to know the time ask a policeman, there was in fact a retired policeman who was a friend of theirs, he always knew the time. When a batch was ready, that’s why his face was always so red, sampling fresh home brew. But he did have perfect timing, he always turned up in time to arrest naughty boys, Tom was his name, Sergeant Tom, he always knew the exact time a new batch was ready in a still.

There are laws about home brew and stills and amounts you can make for home consumption, but Tom was 1/2 Eastern, from Poland they said. So his views on amounts were more Eastern than Western. When his nose led him to the boys still, any other Policeman may have said I am arresting you. Tom just said give me a glass and then told them to add a bit more of this and that. A firm friendship was formed.

They say back in this writer’s dad’s closest town the still was using the chimney back to back with the police station. A young and stupid policeman informed his sergeant, so the sergeant had the wet policeman transferred as far away from Castleisland as possible. When the sergeant retired all 20 public houses gave him a bottle, that was 1930s Kerry for you.

But back to Tom, Tom and the boys are firm friends, lubrication is necessary, so let sleeping dogs lie was Tom’s philosophy, and dogs certainly lay down and slept after sampling Lech, Boris and Gregorgi’s home brew or still water. At Mrs Black’s funeral the bottle was punished and all her old dear friends were in attendance, the sandwiches were laid out on the pool table and there was a table with home brew and still water, plus fizzy pop for any stray children. Just in case there are any non drinkers reading this, still water is not posh water, its water that’s been in a still, as in vodka or poteen, now do I make myself clear, you’ll tell me you are a vegetarian next, God help us.

Mrs Black herself enjoyed the after funeral feed, sitting on the side of the pool table she enjoyed the turnout. She hated how they had dressed her corpse, and sewed her lips together, she had enjoyed talking so much when she was alive. They all seem really sad that she had died, those Eastern boys were so kind too, the lips were loosened and the talk was good. Yet she could not join in, as her lips were sealed, well sown together, they had lost her false teeth so sewing her lips was the compromise. It was a good funeral, as good as many she had attended, she wondered what would happen next.

The angel came to take her to Heaven, only she was not ready, the angel said he had 5 other spirits to take home. Mrs Black replied she just wished to try the spirits at her own funeral then she would depart willingly. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi had had plenty of spirits now, they swore they could see angel and some shadows next to it. Mrs Black hearing this stood right in front of the boys and begged them to cut her lips open. So drunkenly the boys whipped out their knives, this frighten the crowd. But they explained and the crowd just laughed. #

It was hard to cut Mrs Black’s lips free, you try cutting thread with a huge knife if you don’t believe me, and if you’ve been punishing a bottle and its the lips of a ghost. You don’t want to cut yourself, nor cut the head off the ghost do you. Eventually Mrs Black’s lips were free, then she picked up a glass and toasted herself. She passed the glass back for the other spirits to share, the angel had nothing, not because it was boring, but because angels are tee total and never jump in where fools rush in.

Now it must be the magical properties of Lech, Boris and Gregorgi’s still but all the ghosts appeared before the crowd, they were afraid. Well apart from Tom the policeman, he’d wasn’t afraid of anything, well except spiders. The boys had spirits in them, beside the Holy Spirit had a soft spot for them too, after all the Good Works they did, so the boys were not afraid. Just stay where you are everybody advised Tom, there room for all.

So the ghosts had a few jars while the angel plucked on its harp, angels don’t have watches after all. Then as darkness fell it really was time for the ghosts to go to heaven, Percy the undertaker came running in, he’d found Mrs Black’s teeth. So Mrs Black the ghost grabbed her teeth from Percy the undertaker, and went happily into the afterlife. Lech belched, followed by Boris’ burp and Gregorgi’s rasping fart, so that sent the ghosts scurrying off to Heaven.

Advertisements

Thursday, 29 October 2020

Hola Puerto Rico

 Hola Puerto Rico, el primer visito a mi website, gracias a todos. yo hablo espagnol commo un  burro hablo chinois.

Hace 45 anos desdes el examen de espagnol, es much mas facile hablar que escribir.

un vez ha vistitato espagna, barcelona, donde visto el ballet ruso en enero 1999.

gracias a todos, y no olvidar VOTA BIDEN.

Trump gusto todo dinero, dinero y dinero. 

El amor de dinero es el camino a el diablo.

hasta luego, gracias.

Ok forgive my Spanish I think this is first time Puerto Rico has passed by.


My comic novel The Butcher The Baker and The Underaker canbe found

decubrio questas comicos en novel 

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/2020/07/12/reposted-translations-galore-just-click-to-download-your-language/ 

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.files.wordpress.com/2020/03/spanish-bbu-1.doc 

I hope you enjoy all 600 pages.


In the end my comic novel is about a FAMILY, the street of shops, and how love unites when they MUST find the Indian Princess and save her life.


I was at Saint Judes Chicago yesterday, via Utube, for St Jude's Feast Day.

they had a bilingual service. So I hope you all FIND my book and LAUGH a lot

and almost  pray for the happy ending,  but you will have to read the book.


Michael Casey   miguelito el gordissimo 

hasta luego hombres y senoritas







Wednesday, 28 October 2020

Hope from 2013

 

Hope(c)

 By

 Michael Casey

 

I've just watched Star Trek again, the film version by JJ Abrams. I really enjoyed it, especially the fact that Spock gets the girl. It was an exciting film, and most of all it was about Hope.

 

Yes HOPE, without hope we are nothing. Without Hope we are no better than animals or insects even. Small and Nothing. Hope is love, it is future, hope is our smile. A man, a great man once said Pray, Hope and Don't worry. His name was Padre Pio, I believe it was him who saved my dad's life back in 1996 you can read Padre Pio and Me on my  timeline.

 

I hope I pass that exam, I hope that girl notices me, I'm too shy to talk to her. I hope he notices me. Our whole life direction can start or stop, all because of hope.  Or lack of hope, and perhaps courage. It takes courage to take that 1st step, putting yor feeling out there. To be accepted or rejected in an instance.

 

If accepted you go forward slowly. If rejected you go away and cry maybe. But that's where Hope comes in, without Hope you just want to stay in bed and give up. You have to shake yourself and start again, and again, and again and again. No matter how many times it takes for you to have your confidence back.

 

Hope should always be in your heart, even if you feel destroyed you have to gather your spirits up and try again. Or if you are very lucky you stand by the fridge after you have got home and look at your dead mother's photo. Then you make a prayer. Always  remember to pray, even when you cannot pray because all Hope seems to have been swept away. You just pray, hope and don't worry. Even if your only prayer is "teach me to pray."

 

There is always hope, I was talking to somebody recently, and I hope they read this and take it to heart. You may be flat on your back in the gutter, and I've been there too, but you can look up at the stars, misusing Oscar Wilde's quote. All of us can get up off our back and start again. I'm smiling now, why? Because I have a bad back which is a life changing thing for me. My path has to be different from now on.

 

My path I hope is writing, writing for Radio and Film too, if I'm lucky and if I pray hard enough. Even if it not, I'll still write at www.michaelgcasey.wordpress.com  and even if nobody ever reads my words I'll still write. Because I have Hope. I've had Hope these past 26years. I have a family now, all because of Hope.

 

So never give up or give in, sometimes you have to give yourself a kick up the backside, just as sportsmen do. Wind yourself up like clockwork and get back on that horse. Get back to that sewing machine, get back to the classroom, or back to driving that taxi. Whatever it is do it, just do it.

 

Go look at my photos, see how silly I look. If I can talk to you the way I'm talking to you   right now then how much better are your true friends. I'm not here to inspire you, go inspire yourself. Have a rest tonight, and in the morning start over, each day is fresh, straight out the fridge if you like.

 

So make yourself a fresh new creation, every single day.

 

Michael




Tuesday, 27 October 2020

lazy day

 lazy day

bent double as my hips haven't unlocked yet, so I can only stand for a few mins

then I must sit down again

reminds me of my own father

I'm as stiff as a poker he used to say

he used to go to the front room for a lie down too

so I'm following in his stiff as a poker footsteps

Very far flung the readers today here and on Wordpress

So thank you for coming

I haven't forgotten teh Tinnitus Pain and Snot story idea

In fact I have an idea for the ending,it makes me smile

so in the morning, wednesday I'll try and put it down

that's why i dream of the speed typist etc

the reality is getting weaker and so on

But God is good, I've been humbled enough in my opinion 

so a bit of exaltation would be nice

though I'd never deserve it

But Grace and Mercy are something we never deserve

write your own PhD thesis there

I could get a couple If I had the time or will 

I'd rather stick to my style of writing

Simple

written by a simpleton I can hear you all mutter

Now go Google  Around the Horne from BBC Radio

you are in for a treat, trust me, I listened to repeats in 1970s

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Round-Horne-Complete-Archive-Collection/dp/0563527498


I just googled for you

plus here as well

http://www.radioechoes.com/?page=series&genre=OTR-Comedy&series=Round%20The%20Horne

when you finish laughing come back again

I'll be waiting for you behind the bike sheds

with my pump, help Julian wait for Sandy



i may be in a lather, I really do need a shave

Julian and Sandy Bona Barber for writers from Birmingham

or from anyway, they are easy, all too easy, speak for yourself Mush.

Larry, Larry, look at the muck in here. Google LARRY gRAYSON TOO

he could do with a few typists, looks like he's half typist already

Monday, 26 October 2020

And Why the Stars?

And Why the Stars? ©

By Michael Casey

 

And why the stars?

Because we need light in our darkness

When all is dark, there is still some light

When all is dark, there is still some hope

When all is lost, there is still a twinkle

When all is gone, there is a glimmer

When the seas are rough, the curtain is broken

When the sounds are of fury, there is the peace of the night

When smoke drifts by, there is still the hope on high

When mobs shout, the silence of the night beckons

When the tyrant roars, the stars sing hope

When the battle rages, the stars guide us away

When all seems lost, we are guided to fight another day

When there is doubt, look to the stars

When there is confusion, look to the stars

Look up, don’t look down

Stand proud and look to the stars

In the stars we have a light, a hope, a direction

In the stars we have God’s hand, leading  us away

In the stars we can see another way

A  way of hope, a way of trust, a way of charity

Look up to the stars and not to tyrants who think they are gods

In the stars we can see God’s hand, which is charity

Stars to guide us home, across the seas of anger, beyond Humanity

Stars are God smiling, carrying us home

 


the cat and the cardinal

 I had a dream

about a me being a student somewhere

in the end I gave the staff a round of ((****s

for falsely accusing me

No Holding Back

Cardinal Newman was featured

we have a photo collection in the kitchen

with his picture in, it used to belong  to my

recently deceased big sister

now it and her picture is in the kitchen window

So that's where the Cardinal came from

He is actually less than 2 miles away up the road

The Birmingham Oratory and my big sister used

to go after a school named after him, now a housing development

So Birmingham now has it's very own saint

I wish he'd get rid of all my diseases starting with Tinnitus

I'm a Birmingham writer too, though no saint

As for the cat, my small daughter is visiting her sister at University

So hello to all doing BioChemistry

Well my small daughter dreamed of a dissolving cat

Like Totoro, as is named our real cat

Or like some other cartoon cat

So go Dream Dictionary those

As for herself once A levels are done

she is thinking of Anthropology for a Degree

she's spent her life looking at this great ape, me

So Newman if you can't make me a new man

How about helping two sisters instead

as I struggle to walk around the house today

with the sound of the sea shore ringing in my ears

so that's today's chat, I may write a story now, so come back later

Oh,and by the way 20 years ago I had a job and I was so tired that

when my brother came calling I could barely speak

So Biden, is just talked out, and he is million times better

than a Great Dictator, called Trump

and for you film buffs go watch Chaplin's film

The Great Dictator..




john henry newman


Sunday, 25 October 2020

Tiktok the clock strikes Trump

 

Tiktok the clock strikes Trump

Well Tinnitus had a field day last night, but I managed sleep in the end. Today it’s still at the beach 24/7, which would be nice if I were at Cromane Lower Killorglin Kerry. But in my ears, give me a break. I’m going to bed soon, but a few thoughts before bedtime.

Do Americans really believe Tiktoc or Twitter of Facebook or dear old Fox News

Little wonder they elect such rubbish, PLEASE READ 2 OR 3 DIFFERENT NEWS MEDIA

Is it also true Trump has an Execution list if he wins the Election is a week’s time

All the heads being sacked, such as FBI, and the Civil Service to be re-made in his own image too, God Help us

DICTATORSHIP for real.

I hope all Republicans voting are going out to overthrow this king

Otherwise, I’m sure America’s first Black Cardinal, will remind you all of

Trump’s Cardinal sins. Or haven’t you heard, it was on the news.

Just Pray, Hope and Don’t Worry as Padre Pio said.

time for bed.

Samsung and Kdrama

 

Samsung and K drama

Well I read the news today that the Samsung boss has died, so I offer sympathy to his family. I watch loads of Kdramas, and my small daughter chides I’ll be speaking Korean next. Chinese and English are the main languages in the house already. The Kdramas do feature Big Company stuff too. Imagine Coronation Street but with High End James Bond looks then you have a K drama.

Last night I managed to get up stairs and I got better sleep, still Tinnitus playing with me. In the middle of the night I spotted the Stars, or one main one on its own. I don’t know which one it is, but its very bright, go ask Nasa. However it gave me an idea for a Poem.

So expect And Why the Stars, when I get around to it today. Two poems in 2 days because of Tinnitus. I’d rather be sleeping like in a Kdrama. The I do , I do, the shoe Kdrama finished so I’m on to another one now, usually 16 one hour episodes. One actor looks like a Korean Robert Downey Jr, well to me anyway.

So come back later, and if the pain does not attack me too much I’ll have done, And Why the Stars, then Tinnitus, Pain and Snot a story will be on my list. I can only take paracetamol, plus Movelat gel.Otherwise my kidneys would give up. So it’s never Drug filled writing, the opposite, pain at bay writing. I take to pain to save my brain. I can hear you all muttering, does the fat guy in shades from Birmingham have a brain? But I’ll slap the backs of your legs with wet lettuce, and leave the snails on. Google Larry Grayson.

me in Malta April 2013

only 2 months till Xmas

 from 2009 maybe, while my back heals

A Winter’s Day

By michaelgcasey

                     

As I look from my window I see the blue blue sky. Birds dive and soar better than any circus acrobat, they are painting a picture with their wings. Tiny tiny whisps of white cloud remain, like left over candy floss on a childs face, like white whiskers on a very old woman’s face.

Curtains are pulled open and windows are  inched open too, daylight and fresh air to bedrooms shuttered down against a cold winters night. People stand  and yarn and scratch too as they struggle to wake up fully. Then one or two realise they don’t wear any pyjamas so they hurry away from their windows, their wives, their husbands, their lovers laughing at their stupidity. At least old Mrs Jones may have had a thrill.

The sounds of morning, of daylight rise. Slowly the sound of the milk float, the sounds of milk bottles clinking together as the milkman does his rounds, this way and that. The sound of of Mrs Murphy walking her dog, the dog panting in the cold winters air. He doesn’t have a sheepskin coat to keep him warm. He has his own fur coat but this winter is a cold one, so Goldie the dog could do with an extra coat too.

People dance down their door steps to  their car, nagging children to hurry up as its cold. Children write their name in the frost on their neighbours’ cars before being told off. John the neigbourhood jogger rushes past, the kids stick their tongue out at him, he does the same, they all laugh, only for John to miss his stride slip on an icy patch and fall to the ground hurting his elbow as he does so. Still laughing the kids get inthe car and are taken off to see grandpa, John is rubbing his elbow and his bum as he gets ups gingerly.

The lads, we are so hard, appear from their homes to noisily attack the day, Sunday is for shouting, but not too loud, as they have headaches and hangovers, did they really chat up that ugly fat girl, but they gave her his brother’s mobile number and not his own. They stride off to the news agent for The News Of The World, just for the sports pages, their mums can read the scandal section and the horoscopes.

One or two black people wearing their Sunday best pass by on their way to church, a throwback to decades before when people still went to church and when people still wore their Sunday best. People used to dress up to go to the theatre too, but now, but now.

I reach for the kettle and have my first coffee of the day, coffee with milk and no sugar, the way English people have coffee, not the American way, just the soft English way. My kids want toast and peanut butter, or cheese on toast, so my 3 slices of toast become one slice of toast as I feed my girls. I nag them to put slippers and socks on, yes we have nice carpet but in the winter’s weather they are always getting colds, so I nag them, I nag them. My wife nags them in Chinese too, or Shanghai dialect. The phone rings, its Germany calling, or rather my wife’s best friend who’s calling from  Germany, the cackle or hens, of chickens clucking is the noise these 2 Shanghai girls make, as they talk in Shanghai, when are we coming back to Germany is the message. Cluck cluck cluck.

The sky has changed the blue has changed to grey, will the snow return, its been a snowy winter over here in Birmingham, some parts of the country have had the worse weather in 20years. The children have quietened down, my wife has relented and put a nature program on the tv for them. As for me I was going to try and write a poem but instead you see what’s before you. I’m half listening to Mike and The Mechanics a cd I’ve loaded to the computer, “give me the simple life” he sings, I suppose my life is a simple life too. But if we can see  the poetry in life then we enjoy the simple things which make up all are lives. All our lives are  poetry if only we take the time to watch and listen, while we’re making toast for the kids

 

p.s. This piece was from last Winter.






Friday, 23 October 2020

Tinnitus, Snot and Pain

 Tinnitus, Snot and Pain

that was me last night/this morning 

So I thought it was a good title for a story

They'll be debt collectors, that's the idea, so come back tomorrow

I stepped out of the bath and pulled a muscle in my back , so I'm crawling around


so here' this till I get around to writing more stuff

 

Crawling Like a Worm in The Dirt, humbled by a photo copier. 

 

 This is one piece from my www.positivethoughts.com essay/blog postings, I type fast so excuse any mistakes.

 

 

 Well this is my 100th post, I had hoped I could think up something nice or even spectacular. This is what I've come up with. I'm laughing now as I type. Yesterday 5minutes after I started work I bent down to fill up the copiers. I filled one, then another, then I did a third. I then screamed, I had straightened up too fast and had ricked/strained my back on the right hand side. So these past 27hours have been a lesson in pain and humility. I felt such a fool at work, the girls I work were both sympathetic and funny. Somebody came by for some coloured paper , I bent down to look under our shelf and I was racked with pain, one girl told me to crawl away out of the way so that she could find it instead. I hobbled away, out of the way. The rest of day I moved about like an 80 year old, rather like my own dad. I hoped that on my lunch break while I sat for 30mins in the cathedral my back would be restored. We stand all day in our print as some of you may remember me mention. Prayer and rest for 30mins no doubt aided my soul but not my back. I went back to work and hobbled about for a couple of hours. Then I decided I really had to go home and rest.

Getting home I got off the bus and had to walk only 300yards, a crippled Charlie Chaplin kind of walk, though I look more like Oliver Hardy. I was home 2 hours earlier than normal so the family were surprised.

I told them I was fired as a joke. Then I sat down on an old chair and then I could hardly move. Standing up again was an impossibility. Last Friday we had a drama with my youngest, this Friday,Friday13th it was my turn. My girls all laughed at me, just as I would laugh at them if the tables were reversed. Night came and knew I could never climb the stairs to bed, but at least our bathroom was downstairs. So I tumbled onto our sofa and got ready to spend the night there. Only we have a glass coffee table in front of it and I was afraid of falling off onto it. So at 1am I staggered up the stairs like a drunk with locked joints, then I rolled onto my bed, screaming as I did so. I did sleep, but in the morning I had to slither out like a snake sliding out of bed on my belly. Some positions were possible and some were not. My wife laughed till she cried my youngsters did too, as for me, I laughed and cursed and laughed again. My wife went to see the pharmacy man for advice and a spray for me. The pharmacist laughed too, he's an old friend. When she got back I was all sprayed up, the old spray and the newly bought one drenching me and my room with the stench of a bad back. I slithered in and out of bed, crawling around as I couldn't stand up straight. As for getting down stairs that would be an impossiblity. My wife went shopping, stopping first to steal my debit card, laughing she left me in my bed of pain. When she returned she gave me yoguart and orange juice. Later I just had to go downstairs, but I couldn't walk. I slithered off bed like snake, then made it to my hands and knees, then an inspired idea. I bounced down the stairs one step at a time, on my butt , one step at a time. Then I crawled across our living room and pulled myself up onto a chair. I did notice that we needed a new carpet after 20years our carpet does need replacing. I then rewarded myself by stealing my wife's pork she'd just made.

Later after some movements like belly dancer of 120 years old, I managed to straighten up. I do walk as if I have a full diaper though. I made it too my big chair in front of my computer. And that’ s how I got to write this 100th post.

The moral of all this? Well I am a very bad patient. Health is the most important thing in our lives. I rejoice that my girls have a good sense of humour, even if I am the butt of it all. Last year when I had food poisoning they had plenty to laugh about then. And I do laugh at that memory. We are all worms crawling in the dirt. It is God's love that lifts us up, as does our family life. Sometimes it is only though pain and adversity that we learn such truths, sometimes we learn mundane things, but they too have meaning for us, even if its just the fact that we need a new living room carpet.

 

 

 

THIS IS FROM NOV 2008 ACCORDING TO MY LIST

 today is 23rd Oct 2020 and History repeats again, 3000 plus pieces now and I'm on book 20

still waiting to be discovered...



Thursday, 22 October 2020

The Sky is Full

The sky is full ©

 By Michael Casey

 

The sky is full

My heart is empty

Fill my soul with plenty

The sky is full

My heart is empty

Fill my soul with butterflies

The sky is full

My heart is empty

Fill my soul with flowers

The sky is full

My heart is empty

Fill my soul with sunshine

The sky is full

My heart is empty

Fill my soul with laughter

The sky is full

My heart is empty

Fill my soul with prayer

The sky is full

My heart is empty

Fill my soul with hope

 The sky is full

My heart is empty

 Now my soul is full

The sky is now empty

The clouds are gone

My heart is full

My life my life is my own again

 

23 Oct 2020 2.50 am tinnitus time


so that's what I was doing, I'd rather be....

i even got the date wrong







men in dirty macs in USA

Men in Dirty Macs in the USA or rather with Macs the computer you all reading me in the night I once had to teach a gay Czech Dr a new word ...