Dziękujemy Polsce, książka do przeczytania, POZOSTAJE ON MOJE PRAWA AUTORSKIE.

As a thank you to my Polish Readers if you go to my other site you can read some new material.

https://michaelgcaseyfrombirminghamengland.wordpress.com/2017/07/22/dziekujemy-polsce-ksiazka-do-przeczytania-pozostaje-on-moje-prawa-autorskie/

The Time Machine

The Time Machine ©

By

Michael Casey

My life seems to be repeating itself at the moment, mind you, you all may say it always does that always. I’ve just watched the end of a modern version of The Time Machine on the telly. I remembered that I had a copy of The Outline of History on my book-self to my right, this too was written by H.G.Wells. He also wrote The Invisible Man, you may have seen the tv series with the Russian from The Man from Uncle in the title role, but then again you may not have seen it.

Watching the Time Machine made me realise just how fast time is. Is approaching 50 years since I read The Outline of History at Primary School, Mr Lester the Head teacher gave it to me as a leaving present. Yes I was a History geek at primary school, so History and Time is in my blood. I still feel that my life has not yet started. My big daughter is waiting to start her A levels and then I hop go to Cambridge to do Medicine, her younger and smarter little sister may be a Phd in something else. Or she may just become the new Julie Walters.

It would just be nice to achieve something more, yes 2 clever daughters is great, but selfishly what about something for me. Time   is ticking more loudly, my own ticker is held in check by beta blockers, but can I achieve a little thing for me, please.

So that’s my feet of clay, perhaps I should become Beckham’s new best friend and we can discuss humility down the local kebab shop. I can tell him to buy Gillette G3, one blade lasts 3 months. Or 8 in his case, that’s why he sports the rough look on occasions. We could advertise Dr Pepper, my favourite pop. Though I do enjoy a random Stella Artois, 12 pints a year probably.

When you first start to drink you drink Mild which is like dish water, and then you graduate to Cider, any cider. Then you may discover lager, Stella Artois hits the spot. A Time Detective can tell your age or where you are in your allotted time just by looking at the drink on the table before you, or spilled on the carpet. The size of your beer gut also betrays your age and your social status. Time, Tide and Belly waits for no man.

The same can be said for your shopping habits, they betray you. They also indicate the Time in your marital status. Pizzas and cereals indicate family. Marks and Spencer meals for one indict a career girl or a divorced man. Tesco is family Ocado is success, or they send you free coupons and you stuck with them. Besides you can bulk buy Whiskas cat food via Fetch, Ocado’s pet shop, they give coupons too, and Totoro your cat enjoys climbing the food mountain under the  kitchen table.

The seasons of our lives change, I still feel 20 in my head and I look younger than I am due to being fat, fat people don’t have wrinkles as any child, or mine, will tell you/me. My internal organs now they are 95 at least, I won’t be donating them after death. And some nights when the pain monster comes calling I really don’t fear Death as that would see the end of pain.

So attitudes change with Time, you think you need to be more Hedonistic as you’ll be dead soon. Or in plain English, when um dead um dead, so enjoy life now. Streak through Iceland asking have they seen Ken Dodd, was it true they had frozen his assets, or was that just a prawn cocktail of a story. If you are reading this Sir Ken, can I borrow 100,000 of your old jokes, as for the tickling stick can I borrow that for some dusting, the French Maid refuses to stand on the kitchen table.

If you can remember Ken Dodd on Top of The Pops then you really are getting old, but refuse to die down. I hear songs and I say I remember that when it was first on the radio. Now though there are nostalgia stations on the radio, so you can live in a time warp. If you go see the Rocky Horror show you can see them dance the Time warp, I’ve seen it on the stage a few times, even with the creator running down from the back of the rep to take the applause.

So revivals of theatre productions remind you of your days when you went to the theatre a lot, or to see bands in bars. But marriage and children end all that. You go shopping to see your brood and you remember that the new local discount store is on the site of Radfords an old department store where you bought your first ever chess set. I still have that chess set its in a wooden box in a draw in my chest of drawers. No not in my drawers, a bishop and pawns in your drawers is not advisable. In my chess of drawers, Boris sneaks in everywhere, he is the master of the double entendre, whatever that is.

And on it goes your life and your decline, aided and abetted by wine, age and wealth leads to wine and whining. You decide to have a fling with the girl from the takeaway, there’s 40 years age difference, but she wants to learn English and you do have a large back catalogue. So Egg Fried Rice leads to Vice, despite your own inner voice. And that’s why you are prawn crackered. It was your accent that was so attractive, you remind her of a fatter Benny Hill, and its ok she’s on the pill. So did you give in despite it being a sin.

I’ll leave it there as the cat wants to go out, and have I let the cat out of the bag, and I cannot think of any more rhymes to explain imaginary crimes. Because when you are old your time has run out, even if the egg fried rice has not. 

Creaking Like an Old Boat

Creaking Like an Old Boat (c)
By
Michael Casey

I was thinking what to talk about today when I stopped to stretch, only all my bones creaked, I could hear them. But it least it reminded me about the times I've been on a boat, as I just wrote that down I remembered I'd been on a boat in China too, it wasn't a slow one either. So that's what I'll talk to you about today. Boats are strange things full of hopes and fears, you can go as far back as Jesus and before to when people feared for their lives as they earned their daily bread.

My grandfather in Cromane Kerry Ireland was a fisherman farmer, he joined the Merchant Navy too and could have possibly ended up in Shanghai before his own grandson, me, did. While he sailed the seven seas the Black and Tans were loose in Kerry and my mother could have been killed in the womb, or so the story goes. In Kerry you have a bit of land and you farm the sea too. On the wall beside me is a drawing of fishermen in a traditional small 2 man fishing boat that had oars to power it, my uncle had one of those too.

When the Irish return to visit family they use the night ferry, and that is an experience in itself. I’ve been a few times, at Christmas 1973 I went with my dad, the seas were rough and the bar was opened early. You really can hear the ferry creak and moan, just like my arthritis. The boat rocks up and down, and people puke and everybody is merry. You might get a cabin, which feels like a cupboard with shelving for six, and you stay there for the 6 or 8 hours I cannot remember which.

In the morning you queue for breakfast of some sort, then you disembark, the journey is half over you have to catch a train from Heuston Station, that’s Heuston Dublin down to Kerry. Kerry is the furthest point from Dublin, the back leg of the dog of Ireland.

Once landed in Kerry my aunt, mum’s sister would be there to wrap us up in her love, and yes as I speak to you I really have tears welling up because she really was the greatest aunty ever. She could do anything and did, she could was our cook and guide and driver for 2 weeks, and maybe 1000 miles up and Kerry’s boreens, back in 1973 the roads had not been improved. Delia was a great driver and knew everywhere, Sat Nav had not even been thought of back then. I think they still don’t have postcodes anyway. You start at the back of beyond and take a left from there to beyond still, and they up a steep road blocked by hedges you would find one of the Casey Clan. I have 40 first cousins by the way.

In Dingle there is a bar cum book store and there I bought a copy of the Prize about the Oil industry, everybody should read it, its a great read too. When I was there with just my sister we went on a creaking boat to see Fungy the dolphin, its worth a trip too, though if Fungy is still there you will have to ask the mermaids.

We had a postcard with a cartoon of Kerry on,that was our map for our 1000miles in 2 weeks. Now that Delia is gone the title of best aunty ever, or best friend ever has been past on to my sister, but don’t tell her I said it, she never reads or even knows about my writing, so let it be our little secret. Ok. Or do you want to swim with Fungy?

I was going to talk more about boats but my nostalgia for Kerry got in the way, if anybody is going they can tie me to the roof rack. There are a couple of 5 star hotels in Kerry, one German MP used to holiday in Kerry and you may bump into his security detail in the car park, but that was maybe 25 years ago. Going back is on my bucket list, when I’m nearer to kicking that bucket, I think my daughters should see Kerry,they have been to China maybe 5 times now,so it should be Kerry’s turn.

Boats creek and groan and are tossed about by the waves, as are people by their lives. Its when you arrive at the safe harbour that you feel relieved and head for the bar or the warm embrace of the best aunty ever. I have been very fortunate to have such an aunty and such a sister, but never tell her that, so whatever Life does to you, no matter how much your bones creak and moan always remember to come on back Home.  

MY BUCKET LIST

Rearranging the Furniture

Rearranging the Furniture ©

By

Michael Casey

I just thought of this title for today’s piece then I remembered that somebody once told me that SAS folks sometimes called a mission, rearranging the furniture. Obviously this is a distant memory, so I’ll leave it there before anybody comes knocking at my door.

Today’s piece is about literally rearranging the furniture. I have a space under the tv, so I’ve filled it with a very old DAB radio, one of the first from when they came out maybe 15 plus years ago. Its covered in wood so it looks liker a piece of furniture as did the old radiograms years ago. I did have a lovely radiogram 30 years ago, but its lost with time. One of my first memories from maybe 55 years ago is of an old grammar-phone which was a nice piece of furniture, when it broke it was thrown into our back garden I can remember playing with it in the garden.

So have you ever rearranged the furniture? Or altered it? Another memory from 45 years ago was when my brother came home from Oxford and painted an entire room white. The doors, the skirting boards, the bed frame, the wardrobe, the dressing table and the chair. I was like sleeping in a dentists or a science fiction film.

When you get your first place you try different positions for the furniture, a different look and feel is achieved by having the furniture in different positions in the room. And yes I know what you are all thinking, so I won’t say the obvious. But John Lewis God Bless Them do do great carpets, its worth the investment, and with good underlay you get a great bounce. Boris will you leave the room, this is radio not top shelf, whatever that is.

Speaking of shelves though, if you are a reader of books not Kindle books, then a few shelves are always useful. Good old Argos has cheap but nice looking bookcases, bookcases not bookCaseys. Again it all depends on your budget or if you have relatives to give or donate furniture to your new place.

A wedding gift list might just be a bed, a good high impact mattress, Boris I told you to leave, so leave, and a table and chairs. It can be Ikea or any brand you like where you assemble the furniture. How about having an assemble furniture party. You are creating a family through marriage, so why not have friends around for a DIY party, at the end of the day everything is ready, all your furniture is there.  

I like rocking chairs myself so I had an armchair on rockers when I bought my suite for my home all those years ago. As I look outside in the street the base metal rocker is lying rusted in the street awaiting the scrap metal man to take it way. I think my eldest daughter may have have been conceived in that rocking chair. And after she and her little sister were born they loved that chair so much. It must have lasted over 20 years, and has lay rusting in the garden till now.

Yes buy quality furniture, as my dad used to say if you buy cheap you buy twice, so save up and wait and then indulge. Boris, leave the room. Which reminds me, good locks are a must, and bolts too. More importantly you want to feel relaxed and free in your own home, so by thinking a little you can get extra enjoyment just by having things just the way you like them. If you spend your time in front of the computer then a nice chair is important, by pure luck the cheap one I have just got not only is comfortable, but it looks nice. So I get a good vibe just by looking at my chair, which may or may not help improve the writing but if you are happy you are more productive, productive Boris, PRODUCTIVE.

On the shelf beside me there is now more space, mainly for Totoro our cat , because the radio has been promoted to under the tv in the other room. It may sound stupid but arranging the furniture does may a difference. As does cleaning out the mess two daughters and a wife leave in the bathroom, when all their lotions and potions are cleared away, you feel so happy. Then Totoro the cat jumps through the window while you are in the shower washing your assets, this frightens me to death, is she auditioning for the SAS? 

Inwardly and Outwardly

Another pain night, you go to bed to sleep, I go to be racked with pain.

I'll write this later today when I get some sleep, it may bore you or be an eye opener.

And whoever you are in Poland reading my stuff in the middle of the night, thank you, but get a life or a girlfriend instead. Not unless you are up due to  your pain

here's a previous piece until I write this new piece later today

No it’s NOT Kinky Sex it’s just PAIN ©

By Michael Casey

Well its 3am and I’m screaming in pain, the neighbours think there is a Kinky Sex Club somewhere in the neighbourhood, but there is not, it’s just me screaming again, in pain. I wanted to use this title before but I held off, but now it seems so right. I’ve had a couple of pain killers and they are slowly beginning to work.

My dad was in the war and he never took pain killers, says one, or my child had this or that and she never complained. Well God Bless them, but I’ll remind you, there is no competition in pain, it just F**** hurts. So when your grannie or child or cat or dog IS in pain, do be a little supportive. Don’t say shut up, you are trying to watch the chart show on the myriad of rubbish music channels on Sky. Why are they so badly presented with really rubbishy graphics. Just give us the Music, Old Grey Whistle Test leads the way, or Jools Holland’s Later.

Veteran09 from the DT will no doubt offer his prayers, so thank you again, and a very Merry Xmas to you. Maybe the Queen will send you a Christmas card this year as you are so loyal, he is also very kind. Now the rest of you, how about adding pain relief to your Will, you could set up a pain relief centre here in Birmingham or sponsor somebody at the Medical School. I’m not a Brummie mad person, I’m just lazy, if you set up the centre here in Birmingham I’d just be a bus ride away from it, so I could jump the queue.

Pain Relief Centre does sound like a house of ill repute, you could have a competition to name the centre, and the best name wins the pot of money, hopefully here in Birmingham. Rich people DO leave money to good causes and they  frequently leave it in their own name. So could we have the Michael Casey Centre for Slapping on Movelat Gel, or the Michael Casey Slapping Centre for short. Though that does sound like a kinky sex club, though it is NOT. We have so much modern medicine but still pain persists. And by the way I have NO money, if any billionaire is reading this I’d love to have a nice big house, so think of me in your will. Assuming you have any money left after buying another football club.

So anybody out there reading this why not leave your money to this good cause, pain relief, and no I’m not suggesting a French Maid arrives to relieve pain either. I’m suggesting we study pain, and then kill it off. Obviously with my Shanghai connections maybe we could get a Chinese Dr to teach acupuncture here in Birmingham, as needles are far cheaper than pharmaceuticals.

Yes I’ve used humour in this piece, but I have grabbed your attention, you could call it the Frankie Howerd and Kenneth Williams Pain Centre, and have David Walliams as the visiting Professor, call it anything, just take the F****** pain away. It’s 3.35

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

come back later for  the new piece 

arthritis  cKd post unplanned quadruple heart bypass pain just 3 issues  as they call them

Because I'm worth it

Because I'm Worth It(c)

By

Michael Casey

We've all seen the ads for perfume or something, I use Jeyes Fluid, a drain cleaner, behind my ears myself. We've also had the news that News Readers' Salaries at the BBC are to be disclosed. So how do you feel if everybody knew what you earned?

Me I'm an impecunious punk, I know because that's what my brother called me in 1971 in a letter he sent to me at Romesley Field Training Course, he did add a pound note in the letter though.

So Avril why are you worth such a large some of money? Because I deliver the teas to the executive board of the company. But you are 79 and should be in a retirement home. But I love my job. No Avril, its really time to retire, don't cry over my spreadsheet. What's that you want to show me your final set of holiday snaps. Ok, but then be off with you to the retirement home. These are pornographic photos you have given me. Yes my grandson works on security, if you look closely you are looking at your own arse, instead of talking out of it. What do you want? You can stay serving the tea, see how magnanimous I am. No, I'll retire to your holiday home in Bermuda, Because I'm Worth It.

Tv stars earn big money because their agent steals 25% of it in fees, or so that’s what I’ve reading the Press.So how do their appraisals go? Well Francis, how’s the programme been? Do call me Frankie, that’s what the audience call me as I am so hip and groovy after all. Or are you talking about the AA program, I thought nobody knew about that? Or do you mean the substance abuse program or the. I’ll interrupt you Francis, sorry I mean Frankie just the stuff we pay you for.

It’s going well, but how did you know about the other stuff? It is an Investigative Journalist programme.We didn’t it’s the Catholic Guilt you have left over from when you were a catholic, you are a habitual confessor. Oh Sugar.Do you mean Alan? No I mean Oh Sugar, not oh Sugar. Do you want sugar in your tea? That’s perverted, oh you mean a sweetener in my tea. We don’t do sweeteners we are the BBC.

Which brings me to the reason why I called you here to the Ritz for tea, I’m sorry to say you have to go. Go where I’m on holiday, so I can’t do any foreign holiday reporting till I’ve finished my holiday to Bermuda, Avril says my room is spick and span and just waiting for me. Frankie you are sacked. You mean I’m F F F Fired? Yes.

Why?

Because you are NOT worth it.

Then Frankie sells his story to Hello magazine with pictures of him with his head in his hands. He re-emerges on Channel 99 as a new host earning double the salary, meanwhile the BBC employ a researcher with a double first in PPE from Cambridge as the new host of Frankie’s old show, on a quarter of Frankie’s old salary. Obviously she’s a lesbian , as the BBC has quotas to fill after all, she is great at her job. She keeps a diary as it could be worth it in the future. My life as an undercover lesbian at the BBC. The trouble with Media people is that they examine themselves too much.

My own diary is my Total Recall of the Past, apart from what I had for breakfast or did I take all my pills today. I’ll leave it there for today, you have had 2 pieces and a poetry selection form me for today, so I hope you go and buy some of my 14 books, because I’m worth it.

  https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC

Only 3 usd each.

Poetry Samples to Read after previous post

Everything on my sites remain my copyright always.

Poetry samples to read after previous post, suitable to share with your teachers.

I think I could make millions by printing them onTee shirts
I have ideas for pictures to go with poems.

So if you are a T shirt manufacturer then I'll take 50% of unit retail cost.
Or 4 usd for every 8 usd T shirt in plain English.
So get in touch.
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC 

      Michael G Casey email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com  

         

                 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

                  

    You're Never Alone When You Are in Love ©

                               By

      

                         Michael Casey

       Love is being together , Love is a smile , a Look , A Touch

       Or Just A Sigh , Not really knowing why you chose one another .

       Yet Together Till You Die

       

       Love is a Kiss soft and gentle on the cheek which warms your

       heart and makes you glad you chose one another .

       A Kiss can lead to more but I'll leave Passion locked Safely

       behind a bedroom door

       Passion spent you'll not give up each not even for Lent .

       You'll just lie in warm embrace and remember you forgot to say

       grace .

       Whispers and Promises are made , plans for the future and if

      she put her hair this way , Do you think it would suit her ?

      Then giggles and more embraces ,  Till the Night is over and with  

      a dig in the ribs you make him move over .

      Then your oneness complete , you have to put up with his cold feet !

      But when you are apart your hearts are still one ,

     Thought half is  absent you are still one .

      His socks under the bed , and after what you said .

      His  "toys" scattered about ,  and the clout you'll  give  when  he

      returns and the warmth of your body he yearns .

      His cold feet to chill you after he thrills you , are absent yet the

      thought makes you smile , at least you have the comfort for  a while.

      His grins and leers ,  which makes you smile at least  you'll  have

      peace for a while .

      But his heart is still with you , the love is always there - as

      bright as your fair hair .

      Close your eyes and he is still there ,  Remember the embrace as  

      he played his fingers across your face .

      Let your dreams go and remember the whispers in your ear, warm

      kisses on your shoulder before he gets bolder . The warmth of love

      that soars through your blood .

      Dream long , Dream deep , your Man toils while you sleep, though

      you are apart you are still together whatever the weather , for you

      are never apart for he is  locked in your heart .

      Though sometimes he can be trying , there's Never any need of

   

      crying for your love is Undying.

      Always remember he fills your heart even when you are apart

                        End

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

The Light from a Candle (c)

By Michael Casey

 Jan 23, '09 5:24 PM

I watched as the candle's life ended, smoke spiralled in the air. I tried to see where the smoke was

going only it just disappeared into nothingness. Another candle came to an end, but suddenly itrared

up a final flicker of flame then it was gone, black smoke twirling into the air. I strained to see where

the smoke was going only it was no use. I'd need a magnifying glass, binoculars, a microscope or a

periscope, smoke just could not be followed. Another candle went out again I strained to see where

its life had gone, but it was no use, the trail disappeared into nothingness. The candles were going

out randomly, I had to jump from one to another in a vain attempt to see its moment of death, so

that I could observe what was happening to them. In all 7 maybe 8 candles "died" as I watched from

my position sat next to the candle rack in the cathedral on my lunch break. That was all yesterday,

and today the process was repeated. Each candle is a hope, a wish, a prayer. Just as Jazz music is

music turned into smoke, that weavers and sneaks its way through an audience, a candle and its

smoke is a living flame of hope and love which we all hope will touch God's spirit and let him hear

our prayers. The smoke from a candle is like a ballet dancer doing the most intricate of dances, its

like girl dancing with a ribbon at the Olympics. Only the candle and its smoke might say more for us

when we can't think of the right words to say, God Help Us, can be all we can say, but if said from

the heart then it is enough, For Faith Moves Mountains.

And candles are more than flickers that end in smoke, they remind us of the Light and Warmth of

God's Love.

I'LL FINISH WITH A WEDDING

Now my Wedding Day is probably the most "different" ever.

It started at our house and then William PhD and his  beach life saver wife picked us up and took us to the Register Office.

The Registrar was  the sister of the guy I worked with in a dungeon of a computer room, perhaps even built on a graveyard.

My friend from grammar school signed the register as a witness, he was a PhD too. My brother was the 2nd signature.

We then went to my sisters for a reception. William PhD was a PhD in metallurgy so meeting my dad was a thrill for him, because my dad was a Blacksmith and worked in a steel works.

After the reception we went around the corner to my house, where friends had left 2 bunches of flowers on our doorstep.

There we chilled for a few hours, my Chinese wife now had a new name, Mrs Casey. Then we went to MacDonalds for burger and chips, we met my friend the PhD, he and my wife did Chemical equations on the napkins, both my new wife and   my friend were Chemists.

Then we went to the music pub and the back of Broad St, it used to be owned by members of the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. There we joined the 25th year class reunion of my grammar school. So we had a few beers and met a few friends.

I even met one of my old postmen, he thought it was funny, a wedding and a reunion in one day. I told him I had been Shanghaied, the wife is from Shanghai after all.

Then we went home. Now we have 2 bilingual daughters who both have a good sense of humour.