To Sail Upon The Sea: A Poem

May 7, 2017 at 3:38 pm (Art, Arts, Life, Nature, Poetry) ()

Blue Velvet Sky and Sea by Timothy Wood aka SAREJESS

To sail upon the sea beneath a blue velvet sky
I’m filled with such awe to see before I die
a vision of such rare beauty
I feel Van Gogh alongside me
capturing the essence of sky and sea

His eyes they see
to penetrate they be
and with his hands the palette becomes
the means to a dream beneath setting suns
allowing them to become reality
captured in time- this sky and sea.

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday May 7th 2017.

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A Humourous Rhyming Haiku For Albert Einstein’s Birthday

March 14, 2017 at 5:14 pm (Biographical, Celebrities, History, Humour, Life, News, Poetry, Science) (, , , )

E = mc2
Einstein equals wild wild hair
Relative comb spared

Albert Einstein

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Birds Fly Over House In The Sunset: A Poem

March 11, 2017 at 4:01 pm (Art, Arts, Life, Nature, Poetry) ()

Birds Fly Over House In The Sunset by SAREJESS March 2017

Birds Fly Over House In The Sunset painted by the South African artist SAREJESS March 2017

Birds Fly Over House In The Sunset: A Poem

Below the purple hills
lies a little house
where sight of green tree
greets you and your spouse

There each happy morn
with the dazzling dawn
lies fields of green and gold
viewed by doe and her fawn

Sunsets are golden
when they shine down
turn field colours to flame
when they light up the ground

It’s simply paradise
no fancy palaces
or halls of gold
just two souls living
and loving together
until they grow old

Five birds come flying
in the night sky
like the sunset glowing
they bid the day goodbye

There is a wonder
in such a land
where fields and forests meet
the work of God’s hand

Amidst the sun now setting
home fires now burn
day’s work is now done
from love’s touch we learn

It’s simply paradise
these silver skies
and purple hills
where two souls work together
upon the land
building a paradise of love
that shines like a star
reflecting the sun and moon above.

-A poem written
by Christopher
Saturday March 11th
2017.

Paintings for sale by the great South African artist SAREJESS are available here:

http://www.sarejess.co.za/

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Snow Falls Like Raindrops: A Poem

February 22, 2017 at 5:44 pm (Life, Nature, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , , )

Today a snow fall
The snow fell like raindrops in suspended animation
Not a typical snowfall
but a magical mystery show of snow flakes looking like raindrops
and hitting the ground
much like a film of raindrops falling being put in slow motion mode

Snow flake falls
slow slow
burst of bubbles in the frozen air
dancing up and down to an unseen melody
of joy and laughter

Amidst this snowfall and its silence
one hears the still voice of God
I have found a new place to live
Last week I thought I had become an outcast
Last night I slept outdoors on a park bench
in the cold and the snow and the wind
for the first time in my life
I had become homelessness
in its most feared fashion
Today a meeting with someone
and I’m moving into a new place tomorrow

How quickly life can change within 24 hours
As I told a friend in Germany yesterday via email
“I now have the feeling God wants me to spend a night
in the cold- the damp frozen cold
If it happened to baby Jesus in the stable,
why should I be spared?”

As I told my friend, perhaps after a night in the cold
things will finally change after 7 years of Hell
the cold northern Hell of Niflheim
and the burning hot coals of Hebrew Gehenna

And so snow falls like raindrops in suspended animation
doing a slow motion dance of bursting bubbles
and magic wonderland
heralding that after the darkness
will finally emerge the light

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday February 22nd
2017.

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Theft In A Homeless Shelter

January 4, 2017 at 6:04 pm (Commentary, Crime, Life, Personal essays) (, )

Due to the misfortune of having rented an apartment from a whacko crazy nut job landlady/roomate, I got evicted from my apartment this past January 1st.

The past couple of nights I’ve been living in a homeless shelter in Calgary.

Last night, my iPhone was stolen from my pants pocket (while I slept with my pants on) by some individual who’s obviously a total scumbag.

Every short story, poem and vampire novel chapter I wrote the past 4 years was in the Notes section of that iPhone.

Now it’s gone. 😦

Needless to say, I’m feeling totally devastated at the moment.

-A personal essay
written by Christopher
Wednesday January 4th
2017.

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Seeing An Old Friend Jack O’ Hare: A Poem

November 29, 2016 at 5:05 pm (Life, Literature, Nature, Poetry) (, , , , )

Seeing An Old Friend Jack O’ Hare:
A Poem

When my dad was still alive and I lived in his house,
there was a wild hare jack rabbit that lived in our back yard
that we called Jack O’ Hare.

He used to observe me when I worked on my computer downstairs
and my dad would occasionally look through the kitchen window watching Jack
as Jack watched me.

I was always fascinated how Jack’s fur changed colour throughout the seasons
In summer, he was gray
In winter, he was white, pure white in colour.

There was a neighbourhood pub I’d sometimes go to at night
And Jack would follow me there and then follow me home
I discovered this in the winter time when Jack’s footprints showed up in the snow
His footprints would lead up to the pub
and then lead back to my house

On one occasion in the winter when walking home,
I decided to turn around and look,
Sure enough there was Jack who quickly skirted behind a tree
when he noticed me turn around

My dad’s explanation for Jack following me
was that Jack was probably worried I’d end up drinking too much
and wouldn’t be able to find my way back home
so he was there as my guardian angel.

When my dad died and his most recent will and testament wasn’t found
and the house was sold by orders of my dad’s Estate
and I was forced to move,
I always wondered what became of Jack.

When I moved to Vancouver, in my writer’s imagination, I imagined Jack crossing the Rockies and coming to the West Coast to look for me
I imagined him living in Vancouver’s Stanley Park
waiting for me to show up
But we never connected.

This past July, I was evicted out of my Vancouver apartment when the rents got sky high
as Mayor Gregor Robertson slept while navel gazing in a yoga lotus position.

I moved back to Alberta
this time to Calgary
where I had to live 3 months in a homeless shelter

Eventually I did get into a place of my own this past autumn
Way on the northern outskirts of Calgary
Almost in the country and farmland areas

And today when I left my place to walk to the bus
There in an area of parkland I suddenly noticed a huge snow white coloured jack rabbit
about the same size that Jack O’ Hare was

We seemed shocked to see one another
I stood there staring at him
And he stood there staring at me with his ears perked up
After a few minutes of staring at one another
we went our respective ways
I- my bus to catch
And Jack O’ Hare- carrots to eat and female bunny rabbits to woo.

Of course in reality I know it’s not the same wild hare jack rabbit
Not the same Jack O’ Hare who used to live in my back yard and who used to follow me to the neighbourhood pub and back home again

But in my writer’s imagination, I’d like to think so
That it is the same Jack O’ Hare
a Jack O’ Hare who followed me across the Rockies to Vancouver
And then followed me back across the Rockies to Calgary
and at last, we’ve found one another again.

And who knows?
A very wise man once wrote these words,
“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
Perhaps Jack O’ Hare and I have found one another again. 🙂

-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Sunday November 27th
2016

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Playing Baseball Against Stormy Skies: A Poem

July 29, 2016 at 2:09 pm (Life, Nature, Poetry, Sports) (, , , )

I passed by a baseball field last night
A fierce thunderstorm was approaching from the west
The sky was dark and gray
The clouds resembled angry dragons
and angry towering giants.
A strong wind blew in from the west
and trees swayed strongly off the field

Yet the players continued to play their game
They ran around the bases in the strong cool breeze
The pitcher continued to pitch
and the catcher continued to catch
save when the hitter hit
and infielders and midfielders and outfielders
continued to move on the field

Judging from their faces, they looked so much more alive
than say if they had been playing baseball on a hot sunny day
The approaching storm cloud and the powerful cool breeze
kept things cool
so they were able to play the game with more intensity
and less lethargy
than if they had been playing in hot sun

Of course once the downpour and lightning hit
that probably wouldn’t have been so much fun
I did not stay to watch that outcome

I suppose the trick is to play the game against the storm clouds
and against the strong cool breeze
but to know when to come in out of the rain.

-A poem written by Christopher
Friday July 29th 2016

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I’m In A Homeless Shelter

July 27, 2016 at 1:46 pm (Life, Personal essays) (, , , )

I’m In A Homeless Shelter

Well I’ve spent the past 5 nights in a homeless shelter in case any of you have been wondering where I am.

I got evicted from my Vancouver apartment last week because I had no money to pay the rent this month.

That was the end result of not being able to find a job for 18 months from January 2015 to last month June 2016.

So I begged money to buy coffee so I can be in a cafe with free wi-fi to post this entry since my mobile phone company cancelled my service last Friday July 22nd because I hadn’t paid them in 3 months (counting pennies to pay my rent).

-A painful personal essay
written by Christopher
Wednesday July 27th 2016.

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It’s Never Easy: A Poem

July 20, 2016 at 4:57 pm (Life, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , , )

It’s Never Easy: A Poem

It’s never easy leaving the place one’s called home for 4 years
It’s funny how when one leaves a certain place
It’s the good things that you liked about it that come flooding to the forefront of your mind
while the bad things go to the back
leaving one feeling sad
Unfortunately the rents here got way out of control
and misfortune seemed to reign over me when I was here
I don’t know what will unfold at my new destination
It’s a scary feeling
The unknown
I just hope God is watching over me
and it will be all right in the end.

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday July 20th 2016
upon leaving Vancouver, British Columbia

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The City On The Sea: Not All That It Seems To Be: A Poem

June 21, 2016 at 7:24 pm (Commentary, Culture, Life, Poetry) (, , , )

 

The City On The Sea: Not All That It Seems To Be: A Poem

To live in a tourist attraction
is to live in a fish bowl
A city full of natural beauty
Mountains, sea, trees, flowers
But the world of man intrudes
A city of mainly working poor
struggling to reach the middle class
but the dice is loaded against them
But the natural beauty
The mountains, the sea, the trees, the flowers
So many do not really want to leave
So they stay and work in their serfdom
Thinking that somehow they will eventually break through to the next ceiling and eventually reach the glass ceiling
And some will
but most won’t
It’s a city now a playground of the rich
A world-class city
And sadly that also means a city
which can only be truly enjoyed
by the world’s most elite class
And so I am trapped in this strange paradise
A city which only seems to serve the rich man Divas of that Biblical parable
And the poor man Lazarus has not even the dogs to lick his sores
Too poor to stay in this city
And paradoxically too poor to leave
I call people I once knew in my home province
asking if someone can put me up for a bit until such time as I can get back on my feet
Oh, they have plenty of advice to give
Plenty of advice
but not a helping hand
The old saying is all that glitters is not gold
And indeed it isn’t
but even the glittering gold itself isn’t worth it
As King Midas discovered when his loving flesh-and-blood daughter turned to gold at his touch
The city glitters
Sea, mountains, trees, flowers
beckons to the eye of the visitor
but on the sidewalks and in the alleys
broken people and broken dreams
but they are neither added to nor subtracted from the city’s GDP
For it is all a game of bookkeeping and accounting
and appearances
For what is of value is the gold and the assets and the profits
what is not of value is the people
Such is the city on the sea!
-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday June 21st 2016.
Sent from my iPhone

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