Deb Curreen Author

 I think its time,   to write something new,  less heavy, more healing, fresh verses of light and remembrance, a sharing of specialness, and f**king positivity. Did you like that? Did you laugh?  Can you read up there? The stuff I write for you down here. Down here where we live without you. Sorry, positive wins the day. Or can you hear us up there? I bet you can. Do you get out? Can you come back? Does God ever let you roam around Earth-eavesdropping and watching. I bet He does. We can't see you, just so you know. And all the boxers are gone now, but you probably know that. They'll be all living with you up there,  fighting for the couch, tearing up possums, getting fat on heaven's good kai, sleeping and snoring while you play music. I bet strings never break on the guitars in heaven. And there's quite a few of your mates with you now. I can almost hear the never ending joyous music you must all be playing... I miss you all, I miss those jams. I still go t...

In the foamy and rowdy wake from the resignation of our esteemed leader, PM Jacinda Adern, I have been imagining to myself how a modern-day epistle from Saint Paul, the new testament letter writer would read. Bearing in mind that Paul was a learned man, well studied in theology, a social commentator for his time and an accurate essayist of the political and cultural climate, plus an advocate for the disadvantaged and certainly not a misogynist. A man of relevance and intelligence, someone that I would enjoy a little chin wag with over a glass of Pinot Noir from a local vintner. Because it's the 21st century and I possibly face copyright issues in using Paul's name and title, the letter to the Aotearoans is written by Saint Millie of Pariri, as women can be Saints now, as well as Pastors, Vicars and Prime Ministers. They make damn fine ones too! Of course we have yet to see the feminine grace sit in the big chair at the oval office but let's hopes she black, and a liberal Ch...

For more than half my life, I have been aware of that we are being watched, monitored, listened too. Big Brother is real and that, he/it/they, have been around longer than Orwell's famous "1984" novel that was published in 1949. The big brothers were alive and well during both world wars, and they were called spies. Throughout history there having always been narcs, spies, informers. We called them "tell-tale tits" when I was at school. According to the rhyme, their tongues would split and along would come a puppy dog and eat up it. Creepy really, but a warning, none the less, of the perils of gossip and the further punishment of spying on, and ratting out your friends. Of course, Judas Iscariot has to be one of the most infamous spies in the Bible for ratting out Jesus, and we all know how that ended for him, and also Jesus. Once upon a time, government agencies would tap phone calls (by listening in on unsuspecting peoples talk),  and open and read personal ma...

                                                       So,  it's Christmas time, and we have all nearly finished our pressie shopping, and we are starting to prepare the annual Christmas Day feast that we have waited all year to eat. It's a wonderful time of the year, but for some of us, due to the jolly, jerking Bots in the Metacurse of Farce-book, it's starting to feel a lot like 1984! Recently, a friend and I were lamenting the dismal state of holiday TV, and the fact that we would have to watch repeat romcoms from last century, two nights in a bloody row! I joked that I was going to watch the violent and highly entertaining, John Wick movie this Christmas. She agreed it was the better choice and laughed that we should kick the lead romcom actor out. Always one for a smart-arsey comeback, I suggested we choot him. Whereupon, I was issued an ...

 I wrote this blog entry over 10 years ago. What I was addressing at the time was the "silent screamers" that live among us, the helpless, the voiceless, and while they are still there, people are now beginning to scream in public, and often. Not a week goes by when there isn't a protest, a rally, a gathering of outraged people shouting and yelling and screaming their frustrations and anger at life, the government, the farmers, one another; you name it, they're making a loud and angry noise. Over the weekend we saw the Freedom coalition block the Southern motorway for several hours. This only caused many drivers, people that were heading out for a happy Saturday drive, to shout angrily back at them, and hurl "objects and abuse"; literally the drivers began to scream publicly at total strangers. Is screaming in public the correct way to earn freedom? Anger spreads quickly, so does frustration, foul language and "screaming in public". There is a Bibl...

  Overnight the Roe vs Wade ruling was overthrown, previously women were able to legally  obtain an abortion up 15 weeks, and there were conditions, safety checks in place, etc.  After 50 years of legalised abortion in the States, it is now going to become, almost illegal and  may in the coming days, be considered a criminal offence, depending on what State you live in. The decision made in the US Supreme, came from a team of six men and three women. The pro-choice, pro-abortion team have been wailing, weeping, moaning and decrying what they see as an abomination against woman 's bodies and rights. Alongside them, the anit-abortion, anti-choice, team have been singing, dancing, and waving their equally inflammatory, brightly coloured placards, celebrating this win for the unborn child.  All of this has taken place outside the White House, and similarly in cities and small towns across America. I am sure by this days' end there will be arrests as tempers escalate...

  My dear Dad. You  have now been gone for half of my life and I have now, outlived you, by four years, and I am probably going to live a whole lot longer than you did. But still I live my life, with you no longer in it. For all the years you lived, and all the years you never got to live, while I remain; the legacy that you left behind is something I am unlikely to outshine. And while I know I made you proud of me with my fumbling efforts, these days I see more of you in myself, than either of us would have imagined. What I was once embarrassed by, about you - I find that now it amuses me to see those identical, cringe-worthy traits in myself. When I am tailgating slow drivers on the road, I hear you coming out of my mouth, telling the dozy gits to get out of my bloody way. I break speed limits constantly for the satisfaction of being king of the road. Like you, I get up in the middle of the night, to answer calls from someone in need; then I drive off into the darkness to he...