Monday, 4 December 2017

Home page Information more or less up to date

https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC

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Sunday, 3 December 2017

Calling Poland and Ukraine help me invade Russia with my writing

I had to go to bed after writing Shattered as I was shattered, chest pain, where the chest was cut open for the heart bypass it is still very sore even after 3 years and sometimes it hurts etc.

Now to the point thanks all the Polish readers and their Ukrainian cousins.
I don't know why you all like my stuff, is your satelite tv broken?
Are you are learning English?
Is it a punishment from your mum?
Did your priest set it as a penance?
Whatever reason you are reading my rubbish.
THANK YOU.
Now I'd like to invade Russia next with my words.
So can you hack the Kremlin and redirect their traffic to this site?
Or just send a drone over the forest with a note saying go to this site.
and buy my books here.
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

It would look so good on the traffic map, I would be conquering the world just like Napoleon tried to do.
So email, drone or hack those Russians and tell them to read my comedy writing.
North Korea could do with some cheering up too, so spread the word to them too.
By they way Google, this is comedy writing, so obviously I'm joking about doing anything illegal. Mind you in some countries prayer is illegal, God Help Us.
What's that song, Get Here, if we can get folks to read my words.

I need to go back to bed soon. Prayers for my Health are much more useful.
So stay Healthy Lav and Boris and Lech and don't break too many beds, enough said.


Shattered Things

Shattered Things ©
By
Michael Casey

I just put the rubbish out and as I stood by the recycle bin I noticed that there was some faded red plastic on the floor, I did not know what it was at first as it was all shattered.It was in fact and old clothes peg. Then as I came back inside from the cold I noticed some shattered weeds or plant stems, tiny ones. It could be a witch casting a spell with DIY ingredients, eye of newt is very hard to come by after all, or it could just have been the wind and rain lashing the house last night. Though a witch would be more romantic, our own house witch, my Shanghai wife has gone to church, when she comes home she may cast more spells on me.

So it gave me the idea for today’s talk, 3rd Dec 2017, just so word historians can track back my words, assuming they dig up this computer in the future, or Google search archive rediscovers me assuming North Korea hasn’t nuked Birmingham for me telling Kim to leave and let his people live. A bit of Historical context for those scrapheap men in the future.

Shattered, everything can shatter. Everything can change, apart from what? Your Spirit perhaps? You are pretty so you flaunt you looks, and you catch a rich boy, maybe you are a WAG. Then when you lose your looks or the stretch marks don’t go away. And then he goes away with a newer model, literally. So you illusions are shattered. He did not love you, he just loved your hotness, once your hotness left you, then so did he, and now you are out in the cold. Everything is shattered.

Or he had loads of money so you married him, but he spent without saving, then there was a hiccup. No savings left, so you left him for a newer model, a man with a car dealership selling all the latest models of Audi and Rolls Royce. Another marriage shattered.

Lav from Russian was stocky and strong he could lift 100kilos with one hand, and 250kilos using both. He wasn’t a weight lifter, though he was always lifting weights, truck tires from the workshop where he worked keeping the fleet moving. He just did his job and loved it, knowing that nobody would ever love him, he was just the incredible Hulk, a red Russian version, but he did enjoy eating his greens, which made his fart too often.

One day the boss’s daughter came in her windscreen shattered, so Lav fixed it for her, he told her not to stray as the workshop was a dangerous place. But she did not listen, so when a rack of truck tires fell over she could have been killed and should have been. But Lav saved her, deflecting the tires away. Now this was the road to Damascus or is it Moscow experience that she needed in her life, and cutting the story short she became his wife. But he’s just an ogre, a Shrek look alike, you should not be his wife.

Sometimes events shatter your illusions, and you come to different conclusions. Some pretty girls see past the money, and some men see further than the honey. Shatter the glass and see further than her ass, look past his package, his wad of money, and no I’m not being funny, love is more than money. Maybe I’m naive and what am I trying to achieve? If you ever see a pretty woman, and I’m not talking about Julia Roberts, with an ugly fat man, maybe it’s love. Or maybe a Brad Pitt with a wrinkly girl, maybe its love.

Shatter a few illusions in your mind, just try and be kind, and not just look at his or her behind. Don’t just look at the size of her thighs, or at his deep blue eyes. Or the size of his wealth, don’t use stealth, just look at the man in his head, not just there lying in your bed.  

Enough of this rhyming ranting, if he or she fits the bill you’ll never be on the Pill, because love is without barriers, internal or external. You both together shatter all expectations, with your unusual flirtations. A man with a limp, or a man with a stutter, can win the fair maiden, for love is blind, love is deaf, love is dumb, love has no senses because because because Love is Divine Comedy. And if you don’t know that then its time you shattered a few self delusions, and that dear friends is my conclusion, and no I’m not fat it’s an optical illusion.       








In this time of pain

In this Time of Pain (c)
By
Michael Casey

In this Time of Pain oh how good it would be to be innocent again.
In this Time of Pain how good it would be to Love thy Neighbour again.
In this Time of Pain how good it would be to put the Genie back in the Bottle.
In this Time of Pain how good it would be to be Free again and not Slaves.
In this Time of Pain how good it would be to hold hands and walk in a Meadow.
In this Time of Pain how good it would be to Stop the Goose stepping and just Dance.
In this Time of Pain how good it would be to have Enough Food in Our Bellies.
In this Time of pain how good it would for one Family to be reunited in Peace.
In this Time of Pain why are we led by a Clown building bombs and not Communities.
In this Time of Pain when we are already Dead why don’t we rise up and Save our Souls.
In this Time of Pain why should one man ruin our Future, our Nation, our very World.
It is Better to Die a Free Man than a Slave.
So North Korea, now is the Time to Save Your Land.
Or does this mean Birmingham will be Nuked Fist?
For Evil to Prosper all is needed is for Good Men to do Nothing.
You are all invited to Dance, to Resurrect you Country, and Easter is a good time for that.



*****
now Christmas approaches when will the terror end and the love begin again?


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Saturday, 2 December 2017

In Silence

In Silence ©
By
Michael Casey

I was wondering what to talk about as I had some Cranberry juice, it’s good for my kidneys, when in the silence I thought why not talk about silence. I normally have music on as I read on the Internet, but I just switched off the sound for a bit of quiet when I decided I could always talk about Silence. I was going to say I could listen to Simon and Garfunkle’s the Sound of Silence but the phone just rang. It was my sister so the silence was shattered while we had a catch up.

Silence is a change from noise, if you are at work in heat and noise its always good to escape to the park during your lunch break. In my print room days at Pinsent Masons I’d escape to Saint Phillips cathedral. I used to stand all day in a very hot print room. So for lunch I sit by the candles in the cathedral, the vergers thought I was Holy but just some peace and quiet and no standing was what I was really after. Ok, maybe a bit of prayer, and one of the best pieces of writing ever bubbled up while I was there. I’ll insert it below the I’ll get back to today’s theme.

Let There Be Light ©

By Michael Casey

Let my tears be my words

Let the candle light be my eyes

Let the flowers in bloom be my lips

Let their scent be my blood

Let the wind be my breath

Let clouds be my mood

Let children’s laughter be my hope

Let widows’ sighs be my conscience

Let a stranger’s prayers be my delight

Let the bees be my wisdom

Let the trees be my strength

Let my patience reach to the stars

Let me be always remembered in your prayers

Ok, no need to be impressed, I wish I could just print it on Tshirts and make enough money to buy a house with it. So from the house of God, to Michael’s family house via poetry. Ok, I’ll just get the Monopoly board out and win a house that way.

One time I saw a bodybuilder lighting candles and praying, I was touched and impressed. He could have been a Russian called Lav, but here in the cathedral he was a humble servant. Maybe Putin should follow his example, but I digress.

When we are up to no good we are silent and sneaky, trying not to get found out. Pretending to pray when really we are going to steal the poor box. In my hotel days where I was a spare man I suppose, I also did a bit of security for Taz and Phil. This means I watch people and things, I always look at people’s hands to see if they are about to strike, I always look at number plates too. At the hotel if somebody had Love and Hate tats on his knuckles then they stood out, because it was a 4 star deluxe place. So obviously I’d watch them and report back on my dec phone. When it was silent in the foyer I’d be send to do the walk all over the hotel. It takes 25 mins to walk everywhere with the bleeper, you put the bleeper over the wall mounted nipples and it made a noise and recorded where and when you did the security patrol. Sometimes it was totally quiet on the walk but on other days you’d get to talk to all the staff and guests, so it was a nice experience, as if I owned the hotel.

Now I own nothing except my arthritis and my other ailments. But in the still of the night I can look up at the stars and wonder why are we all here. Are we here to make noise, because God was so lonely in space and time, so Mankind is his Radio, or Spotify. We make lots of noise when we are happy, when we are drunk, when we have sex, or maybe that’s just some of my neighbours. But what is the first thing we do to a baby, we slap it and say, Make some Noise.

So Noise and Silence are the Ying and the Yang, the heads and the tails of the coin that we call life. When collecting the tin is shaken to make noise to encourage more donations. When the band plays we scream and shout and dance in the street, like at Puck Fair in Killorglin in County Kerry. Once a band is famous no matter where they started they want seclusion and quiet, with high walls and security guards. Then they party too hard and overdose and end up having total seclusion and high walls, inside a cemetery.

Then there is a minute’s silence for the departed, before everybody leaves to bitch about them at the after funeral party. Nobody can say a good word for the dead, envy and jealous. Perhaps just silence would have been the best thing, as Les Dawson used to say Be Nice, and if you cannot say anything good say nothing, be silent.

So Percy the the Undertaker walks away from the grave, he has a poem to share.

                 The Dead and The Living (c)

                           by
           
                     Michael  Casey


     I first saw a deceased when I was nine years old ,my father said  not
  
     to worry as the dead are the same as the living ,  only the  laughter
  
     has left them ,  the sparkle has gone from their eyes , the worry has
  
     been lifted from their shoulders ,  and their voice has vanished  to
  
     eternity .

     In  paradise the sparkle will return for it is the  twinkle  of  the
  
     stars , the laughter will return too for it is the morning breeze and
  
     the turning tides are their sides shaking with laughter .
     
     I treat the deceased with the same courtesy as I give to the living,
  
     though I find the deceased are always more polite .  My father also
  
     had a few words to say about the living .

     He said that the living are only the caretakers of the  soul  ,  yet
  
     they think their existence is everything , that they know everything
  
      because they experience many things with their senses .

      What the living don't acknowledge is that their time is  short  and
  
      when I lay their bodies to rest then their souls  continue  without
  
      them ,  without their strong ,  without their weak ,  without  their
  
      beautiful or even ugly temporary form , to where I cannot say , only
  
      that it is a better place .
  
      Percy the undertaker placed the lid on the coffin ,the soul was free


                          THE  BEGINNING

   






I'm off to bed in a second but please continue to read all my stuff on my sites

I'm off to bed in a second but please continue  to read all my stuff on my sites.

I'm glad you all seem to be liking the Spanish translations, thank Google
Though I can speak a little Spanish, so thank my Grammar school.
French too so thank Mr Notzing R.I.P.

https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1    is where you can all buy my books.
I am all over the Internet but nobody buys the books  cos they read my stuff on my sites and then don't bother to buy a book.
So I stay poor.
But at least I'm still alive, 3 years since my unplanned quadruple heart bypass.
I gave myself 10 more years after it, so if I''m right and I hope I'm wrong I'll get 7 more. My daughter reckons I'll live till I'm 85, but only because I buy her chocolate bars. The arthritis pain is unbelievable at times, thank  God for Movelat pain killer gel for my frozen shoulder and hips etc. Kidney problems mean sometimes it feels as if I live in the toilet.
That's why I choose to write comedy mainly,because IF I or anybody else lets any physical or even mental pain get the better of them , then you may as well be dead already. So you have to fight with POSITIVITY and HUMOUR even if you meet negative people along the way, as I did today.

I'm not saying I hide my tears with a CLOWN's face mask, but I am saying think deeper when you read my stuff, never take it on face value. And if you only buy one book then buy Altogether Now as its the best value if you are poor.

A very big thank you to Poland and Ukraine who seem to have adopted me judging by the viewing figures. My Blogger profile seems to have disappeared from a google search tonight, which makes me laugh, if you saw my  profile you would think I was Santa Claus immediately, but you know that already if you've read Christmas was Cold on this site.

I was watching a Korean soap on Netflix tonight, it was funny and charming, about a girl who falls in love with a blind boy. If only North Korea could just watch all these soaps, maybe they'd wash away Kim and start over as a free and happy nation. Then we'd all have a Merry Christmas and not a Nuclear one.

But as my mum used to say God is Good, and
as my dad used to say When God Made Time He Made Plenty of IT.

So the clock says its Midnight and 5 minutes.
So Its time for bed.
In the Korean soap tonight the lovers had a magic camera that could turn back time. The blind boy used it to save his girls life.
So perhaps God can do something remarkable for North Korea too.


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