The Seven Seas: A Poem
The Seven Seas: A Poem
Snow filled streets glistened
in the fall of snowflakes against the backdrop of glittering neon
when the city’s downtown still had neon lights
when the city’s downtown still had a soul
before it became one concrete corpse devoid of soul
and devoid of neon lights
And there as one walked down Jasper Avenue
in the midst of the cold and the falling snow
one suddenly felt a surge of warmth
when confronted by the sign
that was suspended many meters above the snow covered sidewalk
the giant sign of a sailing ship sailing into a beautiful and dazzling sunset
in that magical meridian
where the setting sun merges with the rising sun
where dusk and dawn embrace
where Hespera and Eos momentarily touch
And below the sailing ship
these dazzling words The Seven Seas
One entered the restaurant
and at the front was a typical cafe diner
but one asked to go into the dining room
and one was led down a hallway
that became a little darker with each step
beyond the small smiling statue of Buddha that one rubbed for luck on the way out
beyond the small fountain and goldfish pool that resembled a Hawaiian volcanic mountain where a waterfall cascaded down into a stream (that was the goldfish pool)
until one came to a room
which one entered through a door of authentic Polynesian style beads
that bore on its ceiling the twilight and stars of a South Seas enchanted evening
and the mural on the wall was a life-sized gigantic photo of a sunny Waikiki beach with golden sands and surging tide of crystal clear blue turquoise water
So one stared at the mural as if one was looking out from the porch of an open air Waikiki beach restaurant
and then as one looked at the ceiling
one was gazing at the tropical starry heavens through the same open air Waikiki beach restaurant
The best of day
And the best of night
like the sign outside the restaurant
where the sailing ship sailed into that magical region where setting sun and rising sun merge
where dusk and dawn have embraced
where Hespera and Eos have momentarily touched
The best of day
The best of night
The best of times
minus the worst of times
where only the best of times remain
That Chinese restaurant in downtown Edmonton
where my parents often took me to dine as a kid
Looking up at the ceiling
and looking at the mural
I somehow realized I was in a special place
and those dining experiences were special times
moments to be treasured
When Edmonton lost its soul in the oil boom years
and traded a birthright of beauty and atmosphere for a pottage of fools’ black gold
The Seven Seas was torn down
I felt like a part of me died the day The Seven Seas was torn down
for a part of me had
Ian Tyson once wrote and sang a song about Alberta called Four Strong Winds
The song began
Four strong winds that blow lonely
Seven seas that run high
And those four strong winds blew even lonelier
The day The Seven Seas disappeared
-A poem written by Christopher
Monday February 29th 2016
Michelangelo’s Dream of Papal Prayer Video
Michelangelo’s Dream of Papal Prayer Video
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was sleeping in his aquarium down at the Set Enterprises Lab.
He was having a dream about the papal prayer video that Pope Francis would be releasing for the month of March (starting this year of 2016, instead of releasing his monthly prayer intercessions via text and press release announcement, Pope Francis announced his prayer intentions for the next month via video).
In the video that he saw in his dream, Michelangelo saw two influential Vatican cardinals Cardinal Walter Kasper and Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi engaged in a deeply ecumenical interfaith inter religious dialogue with the ancient Canaanite deity Moloch as the bronze statue of the god accepted children in a fiery form of human sacrifice.
Michelangelo woke up screeching.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday February 28th
2016.
Haiku About Philip Marlowe Private Eye On The Case
Haiku About Philip Marlowe Private Eye On The Case
Street lights and shadows
click of femme fatale’s high heels
sidewalk of dark noir
The Golden Cobra: A Poem
The Golden Cobra: A Poem
In dark caverns below the Himalayas
lurked the creature
a giant golden cobra who folded around and around the dark cavern floor
and licked its own tail
in Ouroboros fashion
A golden circle
A golden circle of life
A golden circle of death
A golden circle of life and death
The Knights of the Golden Circle worshipped the creature
The Knights of the Golden Circle who created the Confederacy
The Knights of the Golden Circle who shot Lincoln
The Knights of the Golden Circle whose most nefarious leader was one Albert Pike
The Knights of the Golden Circle who continue today
The Golden Cobra had a name… Maitreya
And the Golden Cobra emerged out of its own circle
and emerged upwards.
-A vampire novel chapter and poem
written by Christopher
Sunday February 21st
2016.
As The World Turns
As The World Turns
“So,” Renfield looked at the morning paper, “Pope Francis won’t judge homosexuals but he will judge Donald Trump.”
“Is the Pope a hairdresser?” Amadeus Emanon asked.
. . .
At that moment Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was having a dream (or possibly a psychic vision) in his aquarium down at the Set Enterprises Lab.
In the dream, Donald Trump was holding a press conference announcing that he was dumping his third wife Melania and would be marrying– another man! – an 18-year-old fitness and aerobics instructor named Spartacus Faberge Duvalier.
Dressed in a pink wedding dress with adjoining pink coloured hair toupee, Trump fumed at the media, “How dare the Pope question my Christianity?”.
. . .
The demon Asmodeus was sitting in a restaurant in Zurich, Switzerland at a table across from the ancient Babylonian Vampiress Lilith who was wearing a lovely pink magnolia coloured evening dress.
“I had a strange dream last night,” Lilith recalled, “I dreamed I had to wrestle Donald Trump in order to buy this dress.”
“That is a strange dream,” Asmodeus admitted as he bit into his fried frogs’ legs with great relish (and a smattering of mustard).
The sheer joy with which Asmodeus bit into the frogs’ legs caused Nimrod the ancient king of Babylon (and builder of the city and Tower of Babel) to wince.
Nimrod himself had been turned into a frog as a result of a magical kiss gone awry.
The little green frog sat there on a small lily pad in a huge bowl of water on the white table cloth eating his own little dish of green algae and fresh escargot.
“So our plans for World War III are proceeding smoothly,” Lilith lowered the front top of her dress allowing Nimrod a great visual look of her cleavage causing the little green frog to roar like a tiger taking a shower in a Bavarian alpine village.
“How so?” Asmodeus spit a leaf of lettuce out of his mouth, “I never understood how anyone could be vegetarian.”
“Turkey will attack Syria to destroy the YPG Kurdish Army,” Lilith explained, “and this will cause Russia to attack Turkey and eventually seize Istanbul re-naming it Constantinople and restoring the Byzantine Empire with Putin as the new Byzantine Emperor as well as the new Czar of all the Russias.”
“But wouldn’t Barack Obama do something about that?” Nimrod asked.
On the television screen in the restaurant, CNN was showing a clip of Obama interviewing Kermit the Frog for the job of Supreme Court Justice to replace the late Antonin Scalia and was quizzing the amphibian superstar celebrity on his knowledge of legal jurisprudence and even more importantly as far as Obama was concerned- where he stood on the issues of abortion and same sex marriage.
“I’m sorry,” Nimrod lowered his head in shame and went back to eating his algae and escargot, “that was a stupid question.”
. . .
Russian President Vladimir Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office when a beautiful Greek looking vampiress wearing a Phoenician purple evening dress came flying through the window.
Putin had encountered several vampiresses in this manner the past few years.
“I am the Vampiress Theodora,” said the beautiful vampiress in the Phoenician purple evening dress, “I am here to help you re-take Istanbul from the Turks, re-name it Constantinople and make it the new capital of the greatest empire the world has ever seen – a combined Byzantine and Imperial Russian Empire with yourself as both Byzantine Emperor and Russian Czar.”
Putin inwardly felt that this was indeed his true destiny ever since he had an epiphany on his first visit to Israel as President of Russia in April 2005.
“Theodora,” Putin sampled some black olives from a dish in front of him, “that’s a Greek name isn’t it?”.
“Indeed,” Theodora flashed him a warm smile through her vampiric incisors, “in my mortal life, I was the Empress Theodora the wife of Justinian I the greatest emperor of the Byzantine Empire.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday February 18th
2016.
Renfield Views U.S. Election Campaign
Renfield Views U.S. Election Campaign
Renfield R. Renfield was examining the results of a public opinion poll on the race for the U.S. Presidency.
“I see you’re at 0.0% in the polls,” Amadeus was like Samson with a post-Delilah haircut addressing the victim of an over zealous circumcising rabbi- he was fond of pointing out his friend’s short comings.
“So I see,” Renfield blew out his Bourbon through his nose on to the computer screen.
Athelstan the valet arrived in the nick of time with Sherrielock’s Bavarian Magic Mushroom Cleaner Stain Remover to wipe the computer screen.
“Are you disappointed?” Amadeus started filing his fingernails with a nail file- a habit he picked up from watching Dr. Niles Crane a character on the American TV sitcom Frasier.
“Not at all,” Renfield replied, “Climb every mountain, follow every stream until you find your dream…”
Renfield was doing his best impersonation of Kevin Philipps Bong the Slightly Silly Party candidate from the famous Monty Python sketch.
Amadeus turned on the TV where they watched Anderson Cooper on CNN via satellite doing his in-depth analysis of the White House race so far.
“Some people have said that this particular Presidential race really can’t be parodied,” Anderson explained, “because it has become a parody in and unto itself.”
Anderson then looked directly into the camera, “But is that really a fair assumption?”.
Images from a Marco Rubio campaign ad saying “It’s morning again in America” showing the sun rising on the City of Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada to images of Hillary Clinton barking and yelping and howling like a dog while campaigning on stage at a rally in Nevada.
This was followed by images of Jeb Bush, Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio barking, yelping and howling like dogs on their respective campaign trails.
Never had the Pensacola Revival and the Toronto Blessing of North American Charismatic Pentecostal Christianity ever made such a major impact on the American political scene.
“The question of course is what will happen next in this Presidential campaign already unique in American history?” Anderson Cooper asked his viewers .
Images appear of Hillary Rodham Clinton on the campaign trail in South Carolina.
She’s on all fours and is standing dog like by a fire hydrant on a street corner in Charleston, South Carolina.
She is barking and howling at the moon.
Donald Trump comes running down the sidewalk on all fours with tongue hanging out and panting and howling at the moon.
Since Hillary is in the way of the fire hydrant, Donald lifts his lower right leg and takes a piss all over her.
Vladimir Putin and his aide are likewise watching this spectacle on the television in the Russian President’s Kremlin office.
“Well,” his aide pointed out, “your most exalted future Byzantine Emperor and Russian Czarist Majesty, there’s probably never been a more opportune moment in history to invade and conquer America than now.”
“What you say is true,” Putin poured himself some more tea from the samovar on his desk, “but after seeing this, the question is… is this really a land and a people worth conquering?”.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday February 17th
2016.
The Ghost White Buffalo: A Poem
The Ghost White Buffalo
It was the winter of 1908
colder than a frost giant’s plate
colder than the old timers could ever remember
colder than the young would ever remember when they approached their life’s December
It was definitely a once in a lifetime winter
that made a thermometer an icy splinter
And amidst the drifting cold and snow
that made one huddle to a warm fire’s glow
there were reports of a ghost white buffalo being seen
that fabled beast that haunted many a Blackfoot warrior’s dream
It was an omen people said
in hushed whispers filled with dread
The beast would suddenly appear
then just as quickly disappear
an apparition that glowed on many a cold wintery night
and sent spectators fleeing in fright
Was this furry vision sensible to feeling as well as sight
those few brave souls could not get close enough to touch, try as they might
And so amidst the cold of this icy winter’s breath
that gave one chills like the approach of death
could be added the cold chills of these ghostly visions
into the local psyche the ghost white buffalo made incisions
And now on this cold blizzardy night
some rancher’s herd was not in sight
“The herd has vanished!” Joe said to his wife
this herd that was the source of his ranch’s life
And into the cold snow blind night Joe did stumble
wishing to hear the joyful sound of a cattle’s rumble
“Joe don’t go!” his wife shouted
but the door slammed and the kettle’s steam sprouted
Snow and snow and still more snow
wind and flakes did blow and blow
Joe wondered where to go?
For this night’s cold was a deadly foe
Not far from this ranch was a dreadful cliff
on which Death’s dark scythe could easily sift
over these cliffs the cattle could easily go
plunging to the snow white depths below
The cliff was called Dead Man’s Bluff
but in this card game it was not enough
for the Grim Reaper easily won every hand
and welcomed one to where Charon’s boat would land
Later generations would call it Dry Island Buffalo Jump
where white bones of dead buffalo formed a graveyard dump
Here First Nations people had hunted for centuries those great noble beasts of the Plains
and they’d fall over the cliffs like giant drops of brown pouring rains
The noble buffalo had now vanished from the wild Alberta plain
an image kept alive in memory of early settler’s brain
Now the only buffalo one heard of hereabouts was the lone White Buffalo of fireplace tales
that made one’s heart feel a cold bed of nails
At some point in the blizzard snow filled night Joe stumbled and fell
and looked down over the edge to a snow bound Hell
He himself was on Dead Man’s Bluff
it was the edge of the world and all such stuff
that was related in childhood stories
a place where only ghost white buffalo make forays
Joe decided he better head home
from this abyss where ghostly buffalo roam
And so back to his cabin Joe went
this cold frosty night not well spent
Joe’s only hope was his herd wandered down the narrow canyon trail and not over the cliff
a fairy tale he told himself as over his cup of tea he did siff
At 7 PM the next day, the blizzard did stop
and on to his horse Joe did hop
Joined by his rancher friends, Joe set out in search of his herd
expecting Fate’s answer to be one discouraging word
They rode to the edge of Dead Man’s Bluff
and looking down, expected to see mangle of bones and blood and stuff
but there at the bottom was Joe’s herd alive and intact
it was quite unexpected but nonetheless a fact
The herd had somehow found their way down the narrow canyon trail in this worst winter’s worst blizzard
something that could only be accomplished by a wizard
A rancher friend suddenly pointed out on this moon swept wintery night
where the herd alive was to Joe a welcoming sight,
“Look there, Joe! Look who’s been leading your herd. See there, Joe.”
Joe looked and he saw the Ghost White Buffalo
An apparition that did gleam and glow
making even whiter the glistening snow
The Ghost White Buffalo then looked up at the cliff
he whose ancestors had fallen over it like snow drift
and then the noble beast did vanish into the dark of night
this cattle herd’s savior gone from sight.
The story would be told for years to come
over glasses of egg nog and hot buttered rum
of the Ghost White Buffalo who led a herd of cattle to safety down a narrow canyon trail
and saved them from entering too soon that abode beyond death’s dark veil.
-A poem written by Christopher
during the period
Thursday February 11th
to
Sunday February 14th
2016
-Inspired by an oil painting
done by my father George Milner
entitled The Ghost White Buffalo
based on a true account of an incident
testified as having actually happened
by 17 old time settlers he talked to
that remembered that dreadfully cold
winter of 1907-08
and remembered how a man’s cattle herd
was led to safety by a Ghost White Buffalo
2-Line Poem About Technology and The Circle of Life
2-Line Poem About Technology and The Circle of Life
Video killed the radio star
then digital killed the video store
-written by Christopher
Monday February 15th
2016.
Quetzalcoatl On Valentine’s Day: A Poem
Quetzalcoatl On Valentine’s Day
Quetzalcoatl saw the lovers Mary Lou and Bob.
He decided to intervene being a dark godly snob.
He introduced himself singing, “Hello, Mary Lou. Good-bye heart.”
And so Mary Lou did depart
no longer in Bob’s hand was her heart.
The dark deity now held it aloft
and down his throat it went followed by cough.
Bob’s heart was soon united with her
they were together where the deity’s stomach did purr.
-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday February 14th, 2016.
Dracul Van Helsing 
Turning and Turning In The Widening Gyre
February 26, 2016 at 9:53 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery/horror, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (Amadeus Emanon, Donald Trump, Mikhail Gorbachev, Renfield R. Renfield, Syria, The Apocalypse, The Black Hand, vampire novel)
Turning And Turning In The Widening Gyre
Renfield R. Renfield and Amadeus Emanon were in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion watching the BBC World News on television.
Said the announcer, “A woman who was smuggling a half pound of cocaine in her vagina through New York’s John F. Kennedy International Airport has been arrested…”
“Wow,” said Renfield, “that gives a whole new meaning to the term… crack cocaine.”
. . .
The secret service agent was on his smart phone to a police buddy of his in New York.
Said his police buddy on the line, “And before you know it, that little pussy was singing like a canary…”
“Things go better with Coke,” a radio commercial played in the background.
New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie was positively beaming as he stood behind Donald Trump up on the platform having just given his endorsement.
Thought Christie to himself, “I do hope now that the Donald will return the favour and name me his running mate…”
Meanwhile back in New York, an airport drug sniffing dog was now having the mother of all orgasms.
“Oh God,” said his handler, “I’m really going to have to wash my leg thoroughly when I get home. Never have I seen Bruno so excited…”
. . .
Former Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev was in his apartment looking at photos of former U.S. President Ronald Reagan and the late Pope John Paul II.
“Those were the days when truly great men walked the earth,” Gorbachev mused aloud, “when despite our differences we did try to make this world a better place to live in- for ourselves and the generations that would come after us.”
He glanced over at newspaper clippings on the clipping board above his granddaughter’s desk showing today’s current crop of world leaders.
On his granddaughter’s empty chair was a sign that said OUT TO LUNCH.
On the television screen, images of more casualties in Syria despite the purported ceasefire.
And even more mysteriously on the ground crawling over the dead bodies was a sinister looking charcoal burnt Black Hand.
. . .
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday February 26th
2016.
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