Anchor away...

stars rise water divides the wind howls as she says goodbye, carried away in the flood tears pore from her eyes, gulp and it's over she goes quietly floating by..

man! did you see that where's the emergency services we pay taxes for that, on roof tops arms flaying and people praying while TV crews keep on filming the location relaying the worst of the storm in a thousand generations, wow smiles the anchor i'll win an emmy for this while the camera man shouts shouldn't we do something people are about to die, what shouts the anchor trying to hide her smile we pay for emergency services it's their call not hours so what, did you get that she asks suddenly as another body floats on by..

a year later in the middle of another storm a tree trunk crashes to the earth sends our brave anchor tumbling down, camera man shouts i'm jumpin in but a text from the studio boss shouts to let her drown, so the camera man watches while she floats by wondering if he too could do something like that and become an anchor too

pearly gates all white surrounds not even a breeze not even a cloud, our anchor waits for admission st peter comes walking down he wonders if it's been an accident or suicide of a kind, let me in pleads our anchor i'm done a good job you see, i covered all those storms and wars to  make it real..

peter takes out the book the one that records all facts not the book of excuses we are all so good at that, weighed down with story the why's and why's why not and why throw in the facebook generation there all so good at that, what exactly i'm not sure but excuses we are good at that

a twirl and a swirl the pages unwind her conscience awakens she no longer smiles, i tried she said pleading for mercy in the beginning i was thoughtful and good, that was when i was young, peter thinks about it awhile maybe she's been misunderstood, but the boss has a reputation peter hums and hums i've a quick decision to make, a reputation to mind i suppose and so the story goes

splash the camera man jumps in gushes after her manages to grab her in, secures her to a tree and after she gulps up buckets of water she's soon saved by him, she quickly comes round see's a friend not a frown a sort of new companion, not the man she used to command as she served her career not withstanding love, now she works as a stay at home mum no emmy's camera's or lies, she works for the salvation army now smiles st. peter with a soft tear in his eye..

suckle...

she likes to suckle she's content and young, he likes to suckle she's barely over age and she's young and slim, she takes a breather her eyes shine with glee, when your a one year child it's nuture you see, he likes to nurture but it's a very differant plan, he steals slight of young and by hand using one of those plans
madoff murdoch ponzi or what layman brothers they also like to suckle the lot, no grimace or look at the lives laid to waste, they spend their time trying to suckle your account of of date

reporters faces many frowns it's a total disgrace they say what's going down, a shake of the head from a producer says no, you can't insult our advertisers we'll get nothing for that, play the rolex tape instead shouts the man whose in head, just sailing shots not that they'll get shot the folks who steal your lot

another news day later the hackers promise to rectify the fact we'll tell the truth get rid of all that, those images we took yesterday they are still in the can, we'll use them at primetime and get them on the show, but the studio says no to that as they continue to suckle with your mind regardless of what...

2 bit generation...

the two bit generation is living a life in total isolation their fingers worn like second hand tyres on a rusting old ford station, rusting like their hearts of old steel with dust being their final destination, no gold no silver so much for the two bit generation

morning afternoon and night their only concern how they seem do they look all right no strife, no qualms or worries about the future generations they spend hours soothing their ego's like those celebrity celebrations, her dress his teeth so much for the two bit generation

they love the numbers and they pray for hits not like an old western movie they surf porn for kicks, fake tans hair displays they fiddle with their ears they wonder what to say, they ain't up to much good the two bit generation, but you have to admire them, i guess death and destruction is their final location

facebook now freaks somehow twittering geeks they all follow trends till their somehow complete, their world is cheap this two bit generation, but mom is busy she struggles night and day, trying to satisfy the demands of the two bit generation, she doesn't have time to weep trying to deal with this situation

what if....

i have been to the end of the world and so impressed as i was i got to tell you a story one i hope you understand cause it's true

the city was all golden, there were no frowns no sadness not even a clown, but there is no need to get excited as some would say, but i'm sure you'll start believin no matter what they say.

she went to school that morning it was another ordinary day, nothing too special just normal as they say, just a school full of children with books piled everywhere
the class was small the children bundled in the room was full when teacher rumbled in, he made the morning roll call then lined them up with a grin, teacher began to teach it was kinda fun

out behind the gym a boy was full of rage i hate them all he screamed i'll mow them down this day, he was just a young kid with zilch for a father a mother for a whore they say

lunch break came they all ran out to play chat among each other trade stories like we do all day, just as they sat around wally came out to play, a machine gun in his hand he lowered it as they say

he's a wally they laughed with that kind of chagrin that'd make a politician smile, they quickly stopped their laughing as his bullets began their play, one by one they rolled over no laughing nothing they say

wally took out twenty kids with no emotion at all, asked why he did what he did there was nothing he could say, they sent him to a psycho unit while they waited to assess him, it didn't take long for a jury to convict him fry them they all said

the day came the press reported this young man is notorious they said, the governor gave the all clear, the rest is history as they say, yet they lobby now for more protection from what we cannot say, if only they looked after the mothers, what if it's too late a play..

Be Kind

i don't have a plan or issues or doubts
the story i write is not a word of mouth
just words that come from conscious thought
like all goodness from God i imagine no doubts

i have visions of a kind that make me remind of times today before tomorrow, warnings of all sorts of a world on the brink, so many warnings i'm too lazy to shout

to this date in time i don't even try to rhyme, it's like someone else is pushing the pen, it urges me on to tell only the truth, not something for my ego or anything kind

i know that leonard jimi and Neil Young and many of a similar mind, were given gifts of some good old riffs to also give warnings to all mankind, so i'll spell it out as best as i find

tsunami's a warning earthquakes a plenty revelations of forthcoming events, if we don't act as one as the good lord intends, i don't think your pension plan will pay out a scent

there are no religions in heaven no matter what the preacher says, God doesn't alienate the poor from the right the yellow the blue or the white, just deeds and nothing else i have no doubt, so be kind and it might work out..

Just Hoping....

blend bland blight insight woes aplenty war on the TV while the Bank manager outside seeks their pound of flesh children fed a diet of violence and sex while the so called rightness scream with delight, their concealed anger hard to ignore while hatred "the musical" plays to the heights, star ratings for every performance, as ego driven poets churn out their latest timely reminder, that don't change nothing not even a light...

he reaches for another bottle a detinator in his hand he wants to blow up this stupid world and send them all to hell, then wifey appears she's ask's him whats he watchin as she puts the baby down, he quickly zaps the remote turns off the wrestling channel she don't like men in soft pants at half nine in the mornin..

she switches to the celebrity special it's the jackson man again the same thing happened to elvis she says with the remote in her hand,
she pushes that damn button it's whitney's time again how much cocaine can a body endure she quips to her man, a waste she says with a low view smile, anger conceit envy and decay no loving thoughts worth mentioning, it seems to be the way...

another button pressed a new age preacher appears promising all sorts of miracles for a very modest fee, she quickly presses the remote again cause she knows those sort of guys, she went out with one years ago she often wonders why, the baby makes that needy sound that only a mother understands, she passes baby to that same man who wooed her with that smile

in the kitchen she prepares a bottle the mix is a little thin, since they cut the welfare check she's short more than twice a week, the doctor told her not to worry he'll make up the weights as he gets older quick enough...

the mite sucks for all his worth his cheeks pumping so hard to get the last sup from his little hoard, she pushes the remote again tears come to her eyes, a thin child with sticks for legs appears his body covered in flies, can you get rid of that shit he says while tears roll from her eyes...

she does as she is told anxious not to upset him she has a brusied left arm and marks on her chin, to annoy him ain't the wisest thing she has the memories that last, be calm she smiles to herself while the mite sucks for his life, perhaps tomorrow she sighs tears welling up inside, i just wish hope would come along before the little one dies, just hoping she smiles, just hoping..... 

The new religion...

a news story a new story call it what you like, they talk about the miss deeds of someone you know can be sure it's not love they right..
the so called beacons of freedom who are behind these treacherous deeds, the reason why i know this is because the way they all promote greed...
a law suit a new suit it's all the same to them, these legal eagles and their high flyer careers they send us all into a spin, for the news they say they are the news cause they win..

no one among them ever speaks much truth, but along the way you find one soul who has some dignity and less spin, it's the news they say like it's a new religion...

NO WARNING...

ignore the signs in the sky, but people are forever telling a lie, rains ruin too much to bare, the living scars are everywhere..

an occasional voice sounds genuine, like the ever so rare good  bottle of wine, imitation is easy busy people easy to fool, what next asks  the Lord when the angels plead for more..

children are sexual so easy to do, they are condemned to a life of need not one of virtue,
deluded with fear and that celebrity thing,
this can't go on cause the numbers are in..

the souls in the book of the living are free,
their minds at ease from what they will see,
they sound the alarm and send the angels in,
warning the populations and what's facing them...

money quotes are everything nothing else gets in, so many on their knees doing almost nothing, am i all right didn't i give to charity, i sold my new yacht before the bank moved on me..

God shrieks his head at their relentless pursuits, they promised everything during the last crisis, but once they got ahead it was plain sailing again, i've had enough he cries as the earth quakes again..

floods drought famine war collapsing economies and more, like any decent man he gave a fair warning, st. Peter nods as the verdict comes in, if they don't get in right this time there will be no warning.....

Hollywood Harvest.....

You sexualise and enslave the very ones that try to love me, and now you ask for help if it's all i taught you, you steal all and whatever you can using all that legal jargon, while millions starve to death what am i supposed to do for you
one day it's fashion and how well your butt looks in that strip of thing, you twirl around like faries hoping others won't ingore you, this all goes on while men roam the earth seeking for self pleasure, sometimes looking for a child to ruin or something not far off either
a laugh a pint an atomic bomb doesn't sound too bad at all, so long as that damn old bomb just falls on them old arabs, so you plot and make up lies while trying to fool the working classes, all you really want to do is to hang on to all that wealth and those young fine asses
one day soon the sun won't shine day will be just like the night, you'll all sit down saying prayers profound while wondering about what might, but let me make it sure for all who hear near and far, those marked with the sign of rightessness have nothing to fear at all
i've seen the golden city above in the clouds and the many wonders that remain therein, it's a world of love and calm with no extra's just throw in, a place so fine and bright where only the stars will shine, not like the hollywood harvest where the stars won't shine at all...amen

A History of Love....

It’s a word we use regularly, love, love this, love that, love, have we ever loved really. Tommy ended up in psychiatric when jenny left him, cause he loved her so much, couldn’t handle it, she was supposed to be his love. Rubbish, so you can’t cope when the love you had left you, well that was what love was supposed to do, grow. Jealousy ,lust, selfishness, obsession, dependency, are all types of love gone bad, and it’s the main reason why our planet is falling apart. God only relates to positive love, love that can grow, love that inspires, love that can move hearts, love that can heal. Instead we have developed a world, that promotes sexism, violence, excess’s of all types, a world devoid of pure love. Coming at a time when it’s plain for all to see, those affected by the global recession hope for assistance, those not affected by the recession hope to gain advantage, love don’t count at all.

She’ll love me more if I’m rich, others will too, it’s not you that they love, I’m sad to say. But go on believing it, worry twice as much, and wait and see what happens when the cash runs out. Did you quit on your marriage because she stopped loving you, hardly. Age catches us all, including pride. New wife is younger, and she encourages me more, loves me more too.

Love, the world is very loving indeed. Half the time online is viewing porn, gets into the mind not just the bed. Love between man and woman is virtually extinct. Love is something you can’t measure, it’s something you live. More perfume please, lingerie please, does he now I have a house to clean, he’s just trying to prove his love for me, she waits for him to explode, he’ll be quite for a day after that she smiles, covered in sweat, their child in the crèche to collect, so that they could have more time. Well. If he didn’t bottle that afternoon he’d never let her forget.

Just married, we do everything together, he even wipes the toilet seat. Office busy, he runs her a bath so she can relax, rubs her shoulders her tits and her ass. So bold she smiles pulling him in, a five minute burst the hunger is gone, but lots more to come save the pun, in the days and years ahead. I love you he smiles as he turns to say goodnight.

Love, what is it, is it important, and why do we possess it. Does God really love us, and why are so many suffering. The reason why so many starve to death daily, is because wealthy people stash their cash in Switzerland and places with similar privacy policies when it comes to money, simple. The billions that these people control runs to trillions. Less than five per cent could feed the hungry for a number of years, if wisely spent, but the money is held in reserves so that further exploitation is possible when this great ball of cash is lent. Love does not get a mention…

Time for War...or Do children matter...

Much has been written about the sources of life on this planet. More has been written about the life of the one known as “Jesus of Nazareth”. Given the state of the world today and the many religious wars been fought, either protecting it or promoting it, religion that is, a better understanding of Jesus is needed more today than ever before. Many prophets exist today, preaching and predicting. Condoning and conditioning, their own understanding of “Jesus Christ” their attraction, each one having a leaning towards their own philosophy, none of them it seems able to offer a totally unbiased vision of Jesus, as a kind forgiving and sometimes angry man or woman perhaps, who lived to love and protect the most vulnerable, but all the time willing to see the good in everyone, even in the most difficult of times. In a world torn apart by a mixture of greed lust apathy paranoia and fear, ignoring the other issues we all are too familiar with such as “the abuses”, it is time that we put an end to the mess, and got ourselves singing off a familiar hymn sheet,  so that we can follow a future that does not consist of global destruction by means of chemical, atomic, or human means – disease. Whatever, we do not want to repeat the titanic experience – everyone for themselves. Anyway, going a step further, as in planting and reaping, I can state without exception, that while nature may provide you with the means to create the impossible from the most unlikely of sources, nurture is the key ingredient. Try making a cake, grow marijuana instead, wont make you fat. But seriously, I have learned more from growing marijuana than I could have possibly have imagined. To put things in a nutshell, we need to go back to our roots if we are to create the future we need, and not the future mess and tragedies we are so good at forecasting, it’s not all about money. Where’s the artic, will I go on!. Has anyone seen jane!

I have spent most my life seeking the good and the god in people, and I had plenty of bribe money to go with the journey, so attracting interest was never too difficult, and so I journeyed well and learned even more, from conspiracy to murder, and met new friends. Not all experience is bad. I also learned that there are so many good people too, so many who do so much without mention without seeking or needing  attention, record sales,  so many waiting for godot too, too few certain, many fearful of other religions, too many divided, all because of religion. In a world so divided it is no wonder human kind seeks survival when it used to seek friends, everyone is confused. I know many men who would be happier if allowed to be gay, who conceal their true identity, so twisting their sexuality into perversion and what it leads to,  another compromising opportunity for the media industry, photos flash bulbs stories ex girlfriends, sister brother whatever, the world is in crisis, people and nations are in conflict, how’s your pension doing, did they evict you yet and all the time the titanic sails along, sinking so slowly, no one notices. It’s all the result of religion sadly, not one, not all, but the mongrel approach we select, when choosing which version of god we choose to make our own as it agrees with our principles we hope, but has in fact more to do with the amount of knowledge we have, we all love to be important. Look at the TV, reality this and that, everyone is a star, and a potential pervert too, kiddie porn is on the rise, what was the preserve of the perverted has made its way mainstream, England has a porn baron as a newspaper owner, how low can you get, I was in it for the fuck. The biggest media baron in the world made his fortune using page three girls. Sadly porn is now mainstream, accounts for 40-50% of web time, what about time spent viewing violence, what’s going on is out of control now, no wonder they still build prisons, they are unable to turn the tide of human decline, Governments that is, perhaps that will change with President Obama, we’ll soon see.

So, with all that in mind, this is the story of my experience of the planet earth, a journey, truth of a kind. I labelled my venture the history of love, the journey of reality we all have to deal with every day of every year for all our lives, as surely as God exists, science has yet to create a new seed, at best science can adapt seeds, it has never produced a new one without using an earlier one, I can prove it if pushed, but only through love can we avert the end of the world. Muslim, Christian, or whatever, we are all on this path, love is the foundation of all our existences, and as God is Love, hopefully by the time you get to the end of my rambling thoughts, you will want to improve the way you love, thus allowing for a better future for every single one of us. Wouldn’t it be nice if we all got on, and rose above the bigotry that divides us, bigotry that is manufactured for us by the various spin doctors and propagandists throughout the universe, actively daily. Imagine what would have happened in Germany in 1939 had the propaganda artists and munitions manufacturers not been able to influence public opinion, 50 million dead six years later, I rest my case. Lest you imagine that what I say is complete gibberish, pause a moment and imagine the secret groups actively planning war in the middle east and elsewhere and the consequences for the rest of us and the shady corporations who support them financially because money is their religion, not love.

don't sell me dear..try something else...

i'm off to the races today, nothing to worry about, except this blog or tweet i'm writing. there was a time
when people went to their deaths because of what they wrote or said aloud. exposure of anykind was frowned upon, like dirt in an operating room, nobody could stand the truth, particularly if you are well off.

we don't need their type around here...in a world on the brink of god knows what and not ourselves, we ought to wake up to the truth and not all the cute stories being fed to us, keeping us hopeful yet restrained enough to keep it all in, the pending anger, the further disappointments as news get worse, whatever, they have valium in all sizes and styles, just to keep you fearful. anyway, i have gone to the ends of the earth in search of richness of heart, and all over, the only answer i could come up with was, fear, fear, anxiety, not enough money, envy, fear, something to worry about, have you been to the doctor yet, should get that checked, have you life insurance, we could move your face an inch higher, those hips will need replacing, don't you think you need to do something with your teeth, i know a broker who arranges fast loans, he also has a cousin in madrid, columbia, mexico, i shrink when fear reaches me, but i don't flinch too often. your brain is a muscle, less flinching please, no fear thank you.

a little less guilt a little more joy..no fear...

true love does not remind us of our faults, we do that to ourselves, we call it guilt, a loving God, all powerful, does not play tricks, use numbers, need a code. an evil person convinces us of all things bad, making sure that we learn to fear, despise, hate, resent, you name it, whatever. a loving God wants the best for all of us, religion no barrier, the same way any loving parent wants the best for us.
Evil folks convince us that money is all we need for a successful life, and by the way, God did not invent the pre nup, greed and mistrust did. there is no spirit of love in a pre nup, it only turns the magic of love into a game, like who will fail first. i'll keep the dog you can keep the sofa and so on and so on,....till there is nothing left fighting over...
the all powerful living God recognises love as the first and the last reason for our very being. sadly, we turned love into a commodity, to be split, cut up, dealt and fought over, like a pile of old bricks, useless once used, sounds familiar, and the near total of all the worlds peoples, bar those too young to understand, bought the idea, leaving love to die almost.
jesus therefore, in order to restore love to it's rightful position in all things real and eternal, and life giving, had to resort to dying to convince us all, that love was the essence of all our existencies, and then returned to the earth and to life, to further convince us of his father's love for us all, simple really, that's why we give good example to young kids, sometimes. we don't own life, it's a gift folks, a lease of sorts, so wake up before it's too late...really.

Father O'Che Father O’Che and the death of the soul He readied himself in front of the TV, comfy chair, side table with sheets of white notes, tv remote in hand. He’d heard about it, new TV, didn’t have one at home, hadn’t the time for it, so he had to book into a local hotel. He needed privacy. Being a priest, time was rarely his. The screen lit up. satellite had changed the world, no longer spying machines they were now broadcast beacons, global in reach, though they were still spying machines. Harry wasn’t naive. Competition for the soul was how he described it, his reason for being, job if you call living it work, living. If it wasn’t nourished, it died, Heart, soul or whatever makes you decide between doing good or bad, money most likely. Most parents he knew bribed their kids, what was new, he hadn’t thought of that one though, honesty. Nearly a thousand of them, media channels, all competing for attention and your electronic loose change credit card. After a quick flick, he needed directions, where was the list of numbers already typed out for him, numbers game, bit like the mafia rackets of the past, but with more menace within, they were in his hand with the remote, he looked at them, went on for miles, the list, each combination of numbers a digital location for a TV station, a long day from the two channel world he grew up in, he’d be here for ever if he was to go through them all. For a moment he’d wished for a jack Daniels, then remembered he was working. Angels never sleep. Could have used some cocaine though, hadn’t done barack obama any harm, he was still alive. Barack had class A medical support to fall back on. A happy voice, even a sweet melody, was considered entertainment then, when news was written and reported by journalists, a long time ago he sighed, used to the daily outpouring of propaganda. The news, truth important, politicians didn’t seem interested in it, only getting elected, women weren’t interested in it either, preferring plastic surgery, and archbishops, well they were no better it seemed, good at avoiding it, truth. He fumbled with the controls, he liked sport. It took him a few minutes though, but finally he managed it, to hit the net so to speak or target. Sports TV, he could relate to it. Topic, transfer season, money what else, time of year, early January. Harry liked to start the new year on a positive note, doing something new, learning maybe, even research. Tonight was research, a break from the daily funeral routine. He’d buried three this week, all elderly. Cold kills, so did cold hearts.

Father O’Che and the death of the soul

He readied himself in front of the TV, comfy chair, side table with sheets of white notes, tv remote in hand. He’d heard about it, new TV, didn’t have one at home, hadn’t the time for it, so he had to book into a local hotel. He needed privacy. Being a priest, time was rarely his. The screen lit up. satellite had changed the world, no longer spying machines they were now broadcast beacons, global in reach, though they were still spying machines.  Harry wasn’t naive. Competition for the soul was how he described it, his reason for being, job if you call living it work, living. If it wasn’t nourished, it died,
Heart, soul or whatever makes you decide between doing
good or bad, money most likely. Most parents he knew bribed their kids, what was new, he hadn’t thought of that one though, honesty.  Nearly a thousand of them, media channels, all competing for attention and your electronic loose change credit card. After a quick flick, he needed directions, where was the list of numbers already typed out for him, numbers game, bit like the mafia rackets of the past, but with more menace within, they were in his hand with the remote, he looked at them, went on for miles, the list, each combination of numbers a digital location for a TV station, a long day from the two channel world he grew up in, he’d be here for ever if he was to go through them all. For a moment he’d wished for a jack Daniels, then remembered he was working. Angels never sleep. Could have used some cocaine though, hadn’t done barack obama any harm, he was still alive. Barack had class A medical support to fall back on.

 A happy voice, even a sweet melody, was considered entertainment then, when news was written and reported by journalists, a long time ago he sighed, used to the daily outpouring of propaganda. The news, truth important, politicians didn’t seem interested in it, only getting elected, women weren’t interested in it either, preferring plastic surgery, and archbishops, well they were no better it seemed, good at avoiding it, truth.
He fumbled with the controls, he liked sport. It took him a few minutes though, but finally he managed it, to hit the net so to speak or target. Sports TV, he could relate to it. Topic, transfer season, money what else, time of year, early January. Harry liked to start the new year on a positive note, doing something new, learning maybe, even research. Tonight was research, a break from the daily funeral routine. He’d buried three this week, all elderly. Cold kills, so did cold hearts.

(copyright 2001 bwcarey....)