G. Michael Vasey's Blog: The Wacky World of Dr. Vasey, page 88
May 5, 2014
Poetry Collection No. 4 – Moon Whispers
For some insane reason, I have bundled together a lot more recent poetry and am preparing another collection to be issued by BookSurge called Moon Whispers. I am currently looking for a couple of people willing to review it for the back cover and also perhaps for a good image for the front cover. Any takers?
May 4, 2014
Julia Robert’s Smile
Troublesome emotions unchecked
Anger deepens, rises and overflows
Where does this deepening depression lead?
Meanwhile the stars dance and twinkle
Uncaring, unsharing shards of light
A smile widens; teeth shining bright white
Happiness is a viral happening at times
Like Julia Roberts in Notting Hill
No need to swallow any bitter pill
Laughter tickles in the back of my throat
A sneeze of exquisite joy explodes
Those little drops of laughter burst out
Infecting those around me
It’s simply now a cacophony
Infectious, riotous and bold
As global laughter takes a hold.
Tagged: Happiness, Poetry
May 3, 2014
Moon whispers
Breezy, breathless whispers
She speaks to you
Rasping, her voice is in the wind
Leaden overcast clouds scud
Trodden ground wet like mud
She asks ‘see, see me?’
Tho’ you look high and low
There is no sign of her
Raindrops splatter the pavement
And damp is the rising scent
The Moon is sheening silver
Hanging low in leaden dark sky
Reflecting the one true light
But long are the lunar shadows
Following us like the scudding clouds
The monthly days slowly lengthen
Tears of crystalline water droplets
As She no longer has anything to say
Ripples of a long gone era overwhelmed her
Caught in the shadow of the Son
The golden orb slowly sails its journey
She rises at dawn reflecting all
Like a mirror to all humanity
And in the ghostly lunar light
Everything can again be put to right
Tagged: dreaming, Poetry
May 2, 2014
Chapter 16 – A Lost Soul
As we approach the weekend, and being rather desperate to see some sales, I thought I’d repost this extract for the Last Observer….. its a good little read and available on Amazon and all other book sites at a reasonable price for paperback and or ebook.
Originally posted on The Wacky World of Dr. Vasey:
Chapter 16 from
The Last Observer
selected at random to tickle your fancy….
Alison’s heart was beating fast and loud. She dare not move nor look up. Around her, she was aware of movement and chanting. Inside her head, there was a shadow. She was not alone. There was an indwelling presence inside of her head and it wasn’t a nice feeling. She felt as if she could hear something breathing inside her head. Another existence now seemed to share her consciousness. What had she done?
She lay there prone in front of the altar for what seemed like an eternity; a shared eternity. Then, she felt hands on her shoulders, they pulled her upright, and then she was face-to-face with the man she knew as Zeltan. He looked her in the eyes looking from eye to eye as if checking something before finally smiling. “The seed has taken,” he…
View original 390 more words
What is with all the poetry?
This last week or so, poems have been at the end of my pen it would seem. I have no idea why. Anyway, I enjoy writing and poetry is a form of writing right? Whether my poems are any good is up to you to judge but if you do enjoy them please consider procuring one of my three poetry books all available in paperback and Kindle formats at all Amazon sites. You can also go to my poetry page and follow the links there too.
Meanwhile, although poetry is dribbling out of me daily, I am making no progress whatsoever on the prequel to The Last Observer. I feel no compelling reason to move forward with it at the moment and need to wait until the moment grabs me and I am again awash with ridiculous enthusiasm to write another novel that no one buys. The Last Observer, is I believe what might be called a critical success. Translated that means, it got some great reviews but no one bought it. As a result, its actually available at some great prices so if you fancy a good read in the vein of Dennis Wheatley then perhaps now is the right time to grab your copy of the Last Observer?
Tagged: Books, Poetry, The Last Observer
Dancers
Lift up your head and look around
Take the time to see the world
Bit by bit.
Open your eyes and really see
Observe and focus your attention
Byte by byte.
Is this world an illusion?
Created in your mind
Are you simply a delusion?
That God left behind
Now close your eyes and listen hard
Hear the sounds around you
Bit by bit.
There is cacophony in the silence
If you have the ears to hear
Byte by byte.
Am I the center of creation?
Constantly creating
Or just an aberration
That God left waiting
Bit by bit
Revelations
Byte by byte
Animations
No answers
No questions
Only dancers
Dancing on a stage
Image: Degas Figure Study 5
Tagged: Consciousness, imagination, Reality
April 30, 2014
Blame It On The Papers
The newspapers are cruel
Saying what they think might sell
Sending better reputations to hell
There’s no news like bad news
To shift a few more papers,
We can make it all up
Give them what they want to hear
Keep it juicy,
Keep it rude and lewd
No one cares that it isn’t true
They believe it like the gospel right on cue
The Check (or Cheque)
I went to my bank this lunchtime here in Brno in the Czech Republic with something I haven’t seen in quite a while – a paper cheque. Actually, it was a paper check as it originated in the good old US of A. I took it to the cashier and she took it and looked at it carefully. “What is it?” she asked. “A check,” said I, with a smile. I was asked to take my check and take a seat.
About five minutes later, one of the ladies from the back office came looking for the ‘American with the paper check’. I’m unsure as to which was more unusual – the American (naturalized) or the paper check!
We sat down at her desk and she pulled out a huge manual. Thumbing her way expertly through this massive tome she evidently found what it was she was looking for….that part of the system manual that told her how to deal with those archaic financial instruments – paper cheques. Within a few minutes, three ladies stood around the screen muttering to each other and trying to actually capture my check deposit in their system while yet a fourth held my check in the air and examined it suspiciously and closely all the while comparing it to photographs of various checks from various institutions. She and the other three then compared notes and with some satisfaction, were able to identify it to the system as a US Treasury check. After presenting passport and signing photocopies of said check and passport copy, navigating through multiple screens in their system, I was informed that my check would probably take around a month to show up in my account and that there would be a 500CZK fee ($25) for handling it. The ladies looked as if they had accomplished something and apologized to me for taking so much time…. “You see, we barely ever see paper checks here anymore…” one kindly explained to me.
I left the bank feeling very old.
Tagged: Aging, USA
April 29, 2014
The Stream of Life
Bobbing along the stream
Sometimes fighting
Other times alighting
For a longer look
Checking out scenery
But no real choices
Except to go with the flow
I go where I need to go
Can only slow
The inevitable
As I start at the beginning
I must end at the end
That’s the way it really is
Life is like a stream
Winding its lonely way
Always just passing through
Never sitting still
Ripples speak to movement
Movement is my destiny
One day, I will reach the Sea
And that, my friends
Will be the end of me.
Tagged: Aging, dreaming, Poetry
Touching the Emptiness
Touch the emptiness
Stretching deepness
Cooling depths
Old memories
Black and white
Like old movies
Funny feelings
As if I could touch
Touch the emptiness
It’s on the edge
As if momentarily
Forgotten
Was that my childhood?
Was that really me?
Stretching deeply
To touch the emptiness
Its’ dreamlike quality
Chasing that thought
Is there a reason?
Am I all for naught?
Touching the emptiness
Building a soulful thirst
Driving onwards ever wearily
Towards the setting Sun
Yet didn’t it just begin?
Started in the sixties
Images, floating illusions
Touching the emptiness
My father has already gone
He prepares the place
Wherever that is as he
Touches the emptiness
Birth, Death, emptiness
Cyclic like the seasons
I came from the emptiness
And there I will return
Reaching out, stretching
On the edge of my memory
Touching the edge of emptiness
Once again
Image is Emptiness by Leafbreeze7.
Tagged: Aging, dreaming, imagination, Poetry
