Selena
The old playhouse was closing
It had a successful run throughout its long life
As a playhouse theatre
For 25 years
From comedies to tragedies
Romance to dramas
Several hits
And a few flops
It was a victim of its own success
For so many people
Were wanting to subscribe to its season
Of plays
This old playhouse
Could not seat all those who wanted to attend
What its company of performers and directors
Stage hands and lighting technicians
Had to offer.
So last night was the last performance
In the old playhouse
And now this 1st of December 1945
The new playhouse with new seats
And a much larger seating capacity
For a much larger audience
Would be opening its run
Of Dickens’ classic tale
For Christmas
A Christmas Carol
A Christmas Carol
With Ebenezer Scrooge
And his longsuffering clerk
Bob Cratchit
And Tiny Tim
And the ghost of Scrooge’s
7-years dead partner
Jacob Marley
With chains upon his feet
And the Ghosts of Christmas Past
Present
and Yet To Come
Selena was an actress
She wasn’t appearing in A Christmas Carol
But she had appeared in the last play
Ever performed in this old playhouse
The play that had finished its run last night
Wuthering Heights
Emily Bronte’s classic tale
of tragic doomed love
Of lovers who went far beyond star-crossed
Trying to reach the heavens
And end up
Falling
Into the abyss.
Of ghosts
And knocking outside the window
And howling winds
And desolate moors
And souls that are damned
And what happens when compassion is lacking
And revenge is always served
Hot or cold.
Selena had played Cathy
The love of Heathcliff’s life
And the woman who loved Heathcliff
Hot love
Passionate love
Forbidden love
The love only hinted at by Emily Bronte
As if Orestes and Electra
Had come from tragic Mycenae of old
To perform unfinished business
On the early 19th Century
Yorkshire Moors
Selena sat on coverings
On the sofa
Where she as Cathy
Had sat with the man
Who was Cathy’s husband
But not Cathy’s love or lover
Edgar Linton
In Bronte’s classic tale
And then
As if in one magic moment
A lighting technician
Suddenly shone the spotlight
On Selena
(Who was dressed to attend
The new theatre playhouse
Christmas Carol
Opening night party)
As she sat on that sofa
And that spotlight
Shone on one promising young actress
Who had performed many great performances
In that old playhouse
And soon would perform many more
In a new playhouse theatre
The spotlight would soon fade
And the lights would come down
For good
on the old playhouse
It may not have been Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre of London
But it had been the town’s old playhouse
Bringing joy and sadness
Heartache and hearbreak
To so many spectators
And audiences over the years
Like many old buildings
This old playhouse
Had character
And thus would be missed
And its old plays
And many performances
Would only be played again
In the memories
of the theatre
Of the mind
-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday December 1st
2020.
Faustina
Faustina with her cat Lenore Belle Noir in front of the fireplace in her room in Vienna
Flames in the fireplace
Flames that burn
Like thousands of tiny suns
Sending out a cosmic glow
Across the universe
Sending out heat
And ripple effects
Those flames so like her memories
That burn and scorch her mind
In the neverending passages of time
When will her memories become
Like the blackened embers
That sit below the base
of the fire
Becoming galactic black holes
That never emit any light
And become darkness
And a huge void of nothingness
That brings relief
To neverending pain.
Faustina had dressed like she was going to a ball
A cascading symphony of Strauss Waltzes
Dancing in a joyous celebration
Of the Blue Danube
and the Vienna Woods
But there were no Viennese waltzes
And grand balls happening
In this time of Covid
For the Covid virus did decree
like Kubla Khan
At those now forgotten gates of Xanadu
But its decree differered
From that cultured Emperor
For it decreed
And health and political authorities assented
That henceforth
Humans must only exist
And not live
They must no longer interact
No song, dinner or dance
They must cover half their face
With a mask
For if the image of God
Could not be erased from humanity
Then it must at least be distorted
Or cut in half
It is for your own good they tell us,
Faustina thought,
But did not despots throughout history
Always say the same?
On this night
Faustina wore a beautiful white silvery
Evening dress
And necklace
Imagining she’d meet a handsome prince
Or duke or count
But instead her only true friend
Her cat
Lenore Belle Noire
Sat on the train
Of her dress
As the pair
Listened to Strauss waltzes
On the old Gramophone
Lenore Belle Noir
Looked at her mistress
Trying to emit the power of healing
Through her kind and compassionate eyes
To heal her mistress’ tortured soul
For Faustina was the daughter
Of Johann Georg Faust (1480-1541)
Known to history as Faust
If one liked Goethe
Or Doctor Faustus
If one preferred
Christopher Marlowe
Her mother was Hecate
Greek goddess of witchcraft
Who had fallen hopelessly
In love
With that dark tortured soul
Faust
He who had sold his soul
To Mephistopheles
They had made love in the 1580s
And at midnight on the evening of
August 7th to 8th 1588
The night Francis Drake
Defeated the Spanish Armada
Faustina had been born
Born to Hecate
Born to Faust
Born to immortality
For that had been the curse
Inherited from her parents
For immortality for her
Had been a curse
And not a blessing
So many memories
So many painful memories
How long would they burn
In her mind
Like the flames in the fireplace?
How long before they finally
Turn into glowing embers
And at last mercifully into darkened ash?
The sound of the clock
Ticking on the wall
Provided no answer
Would that it did
Would that it did
Tick tock! Tick tock!
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday November 19th
2020.
Dinner At Tiffany’s: Leprechaun of The Dance
Tiffany Twisted: Formerly the sensuous witch of the Hotel California
and now the sensuous witch of Sleepy Hollow
Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun had been invited to dinner in the Inn room across the hall from his own.
The room that had been rented to one Tiffany Twisted.
Yaldabaoth bathed, showered and shaved.
Then he put on his Irish Spring Mist of The River Shannon aftershave cologne followed by his best green tuxedo and little green bow tie.
Then he walked out the door.
Bucephalus Reborn the walking, talking and dancing zombie black horse thought to himself, “I wonder if I should have told him he forgot to put his trousers on.”
A thought with which Joe Biden campaign staffers were quite familiar with when it came to their own candidate.
Yaldabaoth knocked on the door.
“Come in, Yaldabaoth,” the sensuous voice of Tiffany Twisted beckoned.
Yaldabaoth opened the door and saw this vision:
“Wow, do you ever look hot,” Yaldabaoth felt like President Teddy Roosevelt at this very moment.
“I see you came prepared,” Tiffany smiled like the siren laced rocks of the eastern Mediterranean.
Yaldabaoth looked down and his face turned red, “Faith and begorrah, I seem to have forgotten my trousers.”
He grabbed a copy of James Joyce’s Ulysses off the room’s bookshelf and held it in front of his shamrock deco decorated underwear.
“It’s all right, Yaldabaoth,” she smiled like dawn rising over the hill of Tara, “I like a leprechaun who knows what he wants.”
Tiffany dimmed the lights and started lighting candles.
In the background could be heard Cher’s voice singing on an old 45,
Dark lady laughed and danced and lit the candles one by one
Danced to her gypsy music till her brew was done
Dark lady played back magic till the clock struck on the twelve
She told me more about me than I knew myself.
When the candles were lit, Tiffany and Yaldabaoth drank red wine and ate a Guinness laced Irish potato casserole.
For dessert, they had pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top.
“I hope this pie wasn’t made with my friend Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden’s head,” Yaldabaoth commented as he licked the whipped cream off Tiffany’s toes.
His newly formed acquaintance Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden was the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow and had a pumpkin jack o’ lantern for a head.
“It wasn’t,” Tiffany assurred him with tender kisses.
The clock was approaching 12.
“Let’s dance,” Tiffany put on her record player again.
Tiffany reached for Yaldabaoth’s lucky shamrock.
The voice on the record sang,
I was working in the lab late one night
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight
For my monster from his slab began to rise
And suddenly to my surprise
He did the mash, he did the monster mash
The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash
He did the mash, it caught on in a flash
He did the mash, he did the monster mash
At that moment the Headless Horseman walked in unaware that he was entering the wrong room.
When he saw what the leprechaun and the sensuous witch were doing, he screamed, “I’m blind. I’m blind.”
He turned out into the hall, ran down the stairs, tripped over his feet, landed on the floor and his pumpkin head came off and rolled towards the grandfather clock that was just starting to strike 12.
“Mercy,” the innkeeper muttered at the front desk, “This never happened at the Hotel California.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday October 16th
2020.
Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka and Her Wolf Companion
The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka
The immortal Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka had several wolf companions who served as her protectors.
Her longest serving was a wolf called Seneca who had served her ever since she became an immortal after bareback riding a rare white buffalo on the South Dakota plains back in the late 1870s.
Seneca had been a gift to her from her Medicine Man grandfather (long since deceased).
She had often felt that this wolf Seneca was a creature from another dimension.
The writer C.S. Lewis in one of his Narnia books had once talked about a planet which had several trees growing on it.
Each tree was its own separate universe or world or dimensional realm.
Just as C.S. Lewis saw the rise of the Transhumanist movement within Science (noted in his book That Hideous Strength).
So he foresaw the possibility of multiple worlds or multiple universes- something that modern physics now thinks possible.
Saint Jerome who translated the Bible into Latin -a book known to History as the Vulgate – had recounted in his diary a meeting with a faun (the Roman term for satyr- a creature who was part man and part goat- part of Greco-Roman mythology).
The faun had told Jerome not to worry.
That he (the faun) was a creature from another dimension.
But a dimension created by the same God that Jerome worshipped.
For the Great High God was the creator of the whole Cosmos (and Cosmos in Greek meant the whole created order).
So the faun explained to Jerome that there were many dimensions within the cosmos – the whole created order- not just the dimension in which Jerome’s Earth existed.
Although the faun explained there were a group of beings called the Watchers who had created fauns and satyrs and other hybrids (recounted in mythology) in this dimension.
These Watchers were the ancestors of the Nephilim (the giants) mentioned in the Book of Genesis Chapter 6.
The Watchers and their Nephilim off-spring caused great evil on the Earth which caused God to send the Flood.
When Tanaka had read Jerome’s account of his meeting with the faun, she wondered if Lewis had read it as well.
And caused Lewis to create the faun character of Mr. Tumnus in the Narnia books.
Tanaka reflected on her wolf protectors.
Some were supernatural.
Others were natural who were drawn to her.
There was one- a white wolf with blue eyes- that Tanaka thought was in fact human.
He was a shapeshifter.
Out walking with this blue eyed wolf protector in the woods near the northeastern English village of Barnack (in whose village rectory the noted writer Charles Kingsley author of the book The Water Babies had spent his childhood), Tanaka sat down and looked at him and communicated telepathically.
When the wolf answered Yes to being human, she communicated another question.
The wolf held his head down and then looked up again with sad eyes.
He had lost the ability to speak his own thoughts so he communicated with the lyrics of one of his favourite songs from his childhood – the song Sometimes When We Touch written by Canadian singer-songwriter Dan Hill:
You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
I’d rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie
For who am I to judge you
In what you say or do
I’m only just beginning
To see the real you
And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes
And hide
I want to hold you till I die
Till we both break down and cry
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides
Romance’s an honest strategy
Leaves me grappling with my pride
But through the years of maturity
Some tenderness survives
I’m just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prizefighter
Still trapped within my youth
And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes
And hide…
And with that the wolf closed his eyes and walked with his head down into the woods.
“Avalon,” she called out after him, “Don’t you want me to hold you till the fear in you subsides?”.
The wolf came back.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday August 8th
2020.
Marianne de Lilith
Marianne de Lililth
Carson Cody Albion sat in his private eye office
From his window, he could get a good view of parts of the city burning
The private eye felt hungry so he ordered a pizza to be delivered to his office
Unbeknownst to Albion, the courier got his orders mixed-up
A pizza that was to be delivered to the leader of a rival gang
A gang in opposition to the gang that owned the pizza shop
Was delivered to Albion instead
The pizza contained several doses of toad venom
Luckily for Albion the pizza cook got his recipe books mixed up
He did not sprinkle enough toad venom on the mozzarella to deliver death
Only enough to give the eater a high
Although Albion might not have died anyways
He was immortal
Having drunk breast milk from the lovely knockers of
the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis back on VE-Day
May 8th 1945
Albion ate the pizza
and drank his bourbon
And soon he was off on a hallucinogenic trip
That would have made Samuel Taylor Coleridge green with envy
For there was no storytelling sailor with an albatross around his neck
Nor a Kubla Khan in Xanadu stately decreeing a pleasure dome
Rather this sight greeted his senses
Marianne de Lilith
I am Marianne de Lilith
said the sexy redheaded witch
Well, Marianne, said Albion,
I love the way you’re holding that broomstick.
Bats flew in the light of the full moon
Behind the dead desolate tree.
“This is but a vision of the mind,” Albion reflected
“As I don’t think the Farmer’s Almanac called for a full moon this evening.”
“The tree behind me died as a result of being watered with toad venom,”
Marianne explained.
“That is a shame,” Albion reflected as he threw his cigarette lighter at Marianne’s feet.
Albion crawled over to pick it up.
“I’m reminded of fishing season for some reason,” Albion remarked as he gazed up her stockings and her skirt.
A spiked stiletto high-heeled shoe crushed his hand.
“This never happened to John Candy when he made a splash with his loose change aboard that boat,” Albion grimaced with pain.
Albion soon found himself in Marianne’s shack.
He started whistling that song “What A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts”
as he gazed at the pair of knockers that weren’t hanging on Marianne’s door.
“I take it you still like being breast fed?” Marianne asked the private eye.
“I do,” Albion nodded, “I’m like Jerry Seinfeld in that respect.”
So Marianne breast fed him.
Breasts that were loaded with toad’s venom and not milk.
Albion went into cardiac arrest and was rushed to an LA hospital.
“Beware the breasts of Marianne de Lilth!” Calpurnia’s ghost warned as she strolled the corridors of the hospital emergency ward.
Her warning came a little too late for Carson Cody Albion private eye.
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday June 13th
2020.
Morrigan In Cornwall
Morrigan In Cornwall
Along the cliffs she walked
While a raven flew by
Morrigan the Irish Celtic goddess of war
Beneath where she walked was the surging tide
watery grave of many a sailor that died
Behind her was wood of ancient fallen tree
Cast over these cliffs in storm that shattered tranquility
These were the shores of Cornwall wild
where wild desolate moors and cliffs of smugglers’ coves beguiled
Not far from here was the Arthurian legend born
A brief ray of hope in a land forlorn
Far far north of here were the mists of Avalon
Where the Arthurian sun set after Arthur was gone
Now this land along with the world was pandemic bound
So here far from eerie silence of death was bird cry and raging surf sound
Like many immortals from ancient pantheons Morrigan returned to walk the earth
when guns of August 1914 heralded a bloody rebirth
A century of war
and blood galore
Fascism, Nazism and Communism
A three headed cobra with deadly fangs it bore
Never far from human hearts the poison surged to the planet’s very core
And now Mother Earth itself was filled with hate
A virus arose of deadly destiny and most fatal of fate
Floods and cyclones now arose in the midst of May
Were earthquakes now on the way neath skies so gray?
And war itself may not be far behind
That fiery red horse so insidiously unkind
Ares was still stomping his feet
waiting for Morrigan to pick up the beat
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 21st
2020.
Dorian Gray and The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka
Dorian Gray and The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka
The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka was walking through the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London.
It was a private visit as the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery still hadn’t been granted permission by the UK government to publicly open during lockdown.
As Dashwood Forrest hurried back to his office because his office phone was ringing, the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka continued to walk down the halls of the gallery.
She entered a room marked PRIVATE as Forrest told her to treat the gallery as if it were her own home.
She noticed nothing in the room except for a pair of purple velvet curtains.
She opened the curtains and behind them were two portrait oil paintings.
One was a portrait of a young man.
And the other was a portrait of a teddy bear.
She recognized the young man in the portrait.
His name was Dorian Gray.
For the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka was an immortal.
In the summer of 1878, she had ridden a rare creature- a white buffalo- and as a result of that experience she became immortal.
That autumn, she had gone to London, England where she had lived ever since.
Also that autumn, she had met a dashing young man by the name of Dorian Gray.
After a whirlwind tour of sights and spots throughout England with Dorian, Tanaka thought that she was in love.
Dorian had invited her down to the seaside holiday spot of Brighton with him.
The Lakota Sioux Princess was sure that Dorian was going to ask her to marry him.
Dorian proposes marriage to the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka on the seashore at Brighton.
Tanaka said yes.
Later in Dorian’s hotel room, she went into his bedroom as he was out in the hall chatting to the bell boy.
She was shocked to discover a bunch of female human heads – all of them beautiful (for Dorian Gray did not have the exceptionally high IQ of a Pan Goatee) and perfectly preserved stored in jars of formaldehyde.
“Dorian!” She exclaimed when he walked back into the room, “What are these?”.
Dorian looked shocked and bit his lip, “Er… Um… You know how some people like collecting beautiful butterflies or beautiful seashells or beautiful autumn leaves or beautiful pressed flowers, I… um… like collecting heads of beautiful women.”
“But that’s sick!” Tanaka was shocked.
“But I’ve been invited to the Rothschild’s masked ball dinner party every year for the past 18 years!” Dorian protested, “How can you call someone who’s been invited to the Rothschild masked ball dinner party for that long sick?”.
Tanaka left slamming the door behind her.
“Does this mean the engagement is off?” Dorian called out from the balcony of his hotel room as she entered a horse carriage and the carriage drove away.
Dorian and Tanaka never saw one another again.
Later she heard the body of an unknown old man stabbed in the heart was found in Dorian Gray’s house in London.
Dorian himself was never seen again.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 19th
2020.
Reblog of Ghost Ship: The Flying Dutchman Sails On and On
A supernatural narrative poem and vampire novel chapter I wrote over a year and 3 months ago:
On a moonlit night the sky’s spotlight
casts its rays down on tonight’s performer
a sailing ship rising out of the mist
in a globe theatre where sea and sky do meet
From underneath the water Poseidon’s hand
seems to rise from below the depths
lifting the old Dutchman like a pearl of great price
as an offering and a gift to Diana’s lantern in the night sky
Oh ship of mighty oak and sturdy deck and towering masts
what a price thou hast paid
for having for a master one Captain Hendrick Van der Decken
He who would make league and sup with the Devil
to have the fastest ship that would sail to the East Indies and back
And so there at the Cape of Good Hope
ship, master and crew would lose all hope
as Captain Hendrick stood on deck at the wheel
and cursed the wind…
View original post 673 more words
Countess Draculina, Justin, A Gender Confused Wombat and A Pot Smoking Walrus
Countess Draculina, Justin, A Gender Confused Wombat and A Pot Smoking Walrus
Justin entered the mirror.
And felt the wet sand under his feet.
What happened to his shoes and socks he wondered?
The Basilides gnostic god Abraxas had them on his two feet (which were heads of serpents) in another dimension.
Walking through two inter-dimensional portal mirrors on the same night can cause stuff to go missing.
Which was always the noted Australian entertainer Uncle Ernie’s explanation whenever his g-string style jock strap fell off while he was on the stage in his drag queen show and the audience could see what he had (or lack thereof!).
Justin looked at the vampiress who stood before him.
“A little bird tells me that you’re the Countess Draculina the daughter of Count Dracula,” Justin spoke with his usual meandering manner of speaking.
Countess Draculina leaned forward and shouted “Boo!”.
The little hummingbird on Justin’s shoulder flew away.
“I didn’t know there was a full moon tonight,” Justin looked at the full moon and the Scottish castle behind Countess Draculina.
“That is an illusion,” Draculina laughed, “caused by a great searchlight (invented by Nikola Tesla) casting its full moon signal into the air.”
“Will signs and wonders never cease?” Justin used a fine tooth comb to remove gray hairs from his hair.
“Those signs and wonders will soon increase and increase,” Draculina licked the blood off her lips just as an Australian wombat (who was actually Uncle Ernie shapeshifting from another dimension) crawled up and licked the blood off her breasts atop her low-cut gothic attire mini dress.
“And what is the purpose of all these signs and wonders?” Justin asked as he inhaled pot smoke that was being exhaled by a pot smoking Arctic walrus that had just crawled on to the shore from the sea.
The ghost of John Lennon appeared on one of the high towers of the distant Scottish castle and began singing a paraphrased version of one of his old hits, “Imagine all the people worshipping the Antichrist… someday you’ll join us and the world will be as one.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday February 24th
2020.
Searching For Wisdom In A Hall of Mirrors
March 10, 2020 at 10:59 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (Athena, Dracul Van Helsing, Greek Goddess Athena)
Searching For Wisdom In A Hall of Mirrors
In a quiet room in London
Van Helsing sat
He looked over at his old black and white TV from the 1950s
That he had bought from a vintage antique shop
The TV was off
But he could imagine images on the TV screen
Pope Francis, like the Soup Nazi from the old Seinfeld TV show, wagging his finger and saying to the Catholic Faithful,
“No Holy Communion Sacrifice of The Mass for you”,
A girl with purple hair in a pink convertible singing her own version of an old Danish pop group Aqua song,
“I’m a Corona girl in a Corona world, it’s fantastic,
Our oceans are filled with plastic…”
Russian President Vladimir Putin proclaiming that 2024 (the 100th Anniversary of Lenin’s Death) will be year 0 for the new Russian Constitution
So since things are starting anew, he can run for 2 new six year Presidential terms
Allowing him to remain in power until 2036
Donald Trump waving off testing for the Coronavirus and saying,
“I’m so jealous of Vladimir Putin right now”
Justin Trudeau dressed as a blackfaced 17th Century Jamaican pirate aboard a ship
And singing his own version of an old sea shanty folk song,
“What shall we do with the Coronavirus?
What shall we do with the Coronavirus?
So earl-lie in the morning,
Way hey, up she rises
Way hey, up she rises”
And the Coronavirus rises as a beautiful woman
Holding a golden cup full of… wine?
(But Bela Lugosi’s Dracula does not drink wine)
And rising while sitting on a 10-headed 7-horned beast
Dracul wondered, Where is wisdom?
He found himself walking through the Hall of Mirrors
In the 1947 Orson Welles film
The Lady From Shanghai
Before the mirrors had all been shot out by some of the protagonists of that story
And there in one of the mirrors he saw
Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom
So here is wisdom, Dracul thought to himself,
Lost in a mirror in a Hall of Mirrors.
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 10th
2020.
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