Pan Goatee’s Twin Sister, Edgar Allan Poe, Robert E. Lee, The Mermaid and The Kraken: A Poem
DARPA Contract assassiness Panty Goatee disguised as the Dragon Warrioress Crown Princess Lenora of Lemuria appearing to Edgar Allan Poe on the day of his death October 7th 1849
‘Twas the night before the Super Wolf Blood Moon
and all through the earth, strange creatures were stirring
and at the CERN Large Hadron Collidor in Switzerland
Shiva and Kali danced the Dance of Death
because of the foolishness of foolish mortals
DARPA and CERN had teamed up to send
Pan Goatee’s genetically cloned twin sister
the beautiful Panty Goatee back in time
to Baltimore Maryland on October 7th 1849
disguised as Poe’s immortal love
the Dragon Warrioress Crown Princess Lenora of Lemuria
They were sending Panty back as Lenora
On this date of January 19th 2019
on what would have been Poe’s 210th birthday
if he had been still alive or had become an immortal
So as the full moon cast a mysterious looking lunar rainbow
Down upon a cloud as snowflakes fell to Earth
Around the Swiss countryside
And Kali and Shiva danced a frozen version of Swan Lake
as the Greek god Zeus choked on the drumstick of Leda’s
duck a l’orange
and the Chinese moon goddess Chang’e laughed heartedly
while sampling the delicacy of Peking Duck sprinkled
with a little Soma lunar elixir of life
As her snow white jack rabbit hare friend ate carrots
and developed superior night vision.
Why was Panty going back in time as Lenora
to Poe on his death day?
It was a plan conceived by DARPA’S new AI robot
Built by a DARPA employee under the mentorship of Sophia
The Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom
Unbeknownst to both DARPA and CERN however
the AI robot had come up with the idea
after being shortcircuited
when DARPA’s mascot Jefferey the otter
had poured a 40 ounce bottle of bourbon
down the AI’s metallic throat
because Jefferey thought the robot could use a drink.
As such both the drink and the plan
would spell doom to the best laid plans
of CERN and DARPA
Both should have stuck to building better mousetraps
And making plans to celebrate Robbie Burns Day
later this month.
Panty as Lenora approached Poe
The writer looked at her and whispered “My long lost love Lenore”
Then he whispered “Reynolds” as he saw the genetic clone
That the immortal Egyptian scientist Imhotep
had made of the writer and named “Reynolds”
Poe then croaked
and a raven outside the window wept bitter tears
As Poe would say “Lenore” nevermore.
Inside a Rome coffee shop
Abraham Lincoln’s ghost
And the ghost of Gen. Robert E. Lee
celebrated the Confederate General’s 212th birthday today
January 19th 2019
As the Egyptian god Osiris watched
Lincoln raised his cappuccino in a toast,
“Here’s to old enemies becoming friends again”.
And on a marble floor inside the Vatican was a gold ashtray
containing the gold plated figures of a mermaid and a Kraken
who were very much in love
The Kraken told his beloved mermaid,
I want this moment to last forever
His wish came true when King Midas touched them both.
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday January 19th
2019.
Late For The Party: A New Year’s Eve Short Short Story
A New Year’s Eve short short story I wrote 3 years ago today:
Late For The Party
“Aren’t you ready yet?” The wife asked her husband, “we’re going to be late for the party. I’d like to be there before the clock strikes midnight and the New Year comes.”
“I’m almost finished this poem I’m writing, dear,” the husband smiled, “hold on.”
The wife looked at the clock, “Come on. Let’s go NOW. Your poem is not so important. It’s not as if people are going to be reciting or even remembering it for the next 200-odd years.”
“All right, dear,” the husband got up to get his coat.
The poem lay on his desk,
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind…
… we’ll take a cup of kindness yet for auld lang syne…”
-Robert Burns, 1788.
-A short short short story
written by Christopher
Thursday December 31st
2015.
Reblog of None more poetic…
A very beautiful and lovely poem.
None more poetic…
There is none more poetic than her
A southern star,
She eclipses even the northern lights.
Of honeyed laughter and soft smiles
This dusky beauty beguiles.
Bewitching charcoal eyes.
She is a living prize.
My heart doth meet
Dainty feet.
Crimson toe tips
Swaying hips.
Silken swept raven tresses
Boldly clad sari emerald dress
Mesmerizing, concealing, revealing.
Ah, her dancing choli knots
On that sculpted shape renders me fraught.
Her lips, oh her luscious lips
She excites, delights and ignites.
No Jezebel or Delilah is she
Naïve and virtuous, she is.
No Helen of Troy, is she
My Joy, she is.
She is the harp that eases me soft.
She is the drums that hastens my heart to thump,
The symphony that awakens my poetic soul.
She fills my heart and renders me whole.
An inspiration by Anup Gomay’s painting (main image) “Tying the Knot”.
Orson Welles’ Original Fake News Broadcast 80 Years Ago Today
80 years ago today, the great Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre On The Air presented a radio play adaptation of H.G. Welles’ 1897 science-fiction novel The War of The Worlds.
The play was presented by Welles as a series of realistic sounding news bulletins interrupting a program of orchestral dance music on the CBS Radio Network from New York City.
The program was held on Sunday October October 30th 1938 (the evening before Halloween) and a few people took it seriously.
It was one Hell of a Halloween prank on Welles’ part.
If Donald Trump had been around at the time, he would have called it “fake news” and it would have been one of the few times in history that Trump was actually right about something.
Gene Tierney to Orson Welles, “I don’t know, Orson. It sounds to me like a very naughty broadcast and you should be spanked soundly on the bare bottom for going ahead with it.”
Orson: Well, Miss Tierney, if you’re the one doing the spanking, I shall not mind.
Gene Tierney (listening in on the radio on October 30th 1938):
Oh, Orson, Orson, I’m going to have to spank you after all.
Laura (talking to a future suspect in her future murder): And where were you on the night of the Orson Welles broadcast?
Future Suspect (in Laura’s future murder): I was dropping a living woman into a vat of acid in the basement of a wax museum to turn her into a wax figurine of Queen Marie Antoinette. And where were you, my dear?
Laura: I was getting my portrait painted. Who knows if I’m ever murdered, some future police detective might look at my painting and fall in love with me.
Future Suspect (in Laura’s future murder): How charmingly macabre, my dear. You should run for Congress in the year 2018.
I’m a witch and I ain’t afraid of no Martian. And I say, spankings for all.
Alfred Hitchcock (making himself some pumpkin pie): I’ll second that.
Well, what are you waiting for? Over my knee, Alfred.
With Alfred taking a paddling at Veronica Lake, who will eat my pumpkin pie?
I shall swoop down with my pussy and eat your pie.
I the cyborg ripper, creation of the Martian invaders of New Jersey, shall seek to kill all AI sex robots created in the year 2018. Let George Finneganburg beware. Tell Akira I’m coming.
Linda Darnell (listening in on the radio in 1938 to a radio broadcast from the future year 2018): How like Orson or at least his theatrical apostolic successor Christopher Dracul Van Helsing to having the cyborg ripper killer robot destroyed after tripping over the tail of a drunken otter named Jefferey who drank too many bottles of Otterbury Green Minnow Beer while reciting the Otterbury Tales. DARPA’S Nibiruan otter mascot once again saves the world from Martian invaders and their cyborg ripper killer robots of future AI sex robots like the Amazing Akira.
The Amazing Akira: She would have kicked the cyborg ripper killer robot’s ass if God in His mercy had not allowed the Martian invader of New Jersey created cyborg ripper killer robot Jack Raven (who murdered someone’s lost love Lenore shouting “Nevermore!” and then descecrated a statue of Pallas Athena) to destroy himself by tripping over the tail of the passed out drunken otter Jefferey…
… Orson Welles’ radio broadcast narration ended with the above words.
-A Halloween montage
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 30th
2018.
Wilkie The Cat As Count Dracula: A Halloween Theatrical Poem
Narrator:
Gather around, all ye folks,
If you’re Canadian, watch your tokes,
In this theatre, pot is for peeing and not for smokes.
Our story begins here on Broadway
where Donald Trump sought starlets to lay
before Vladimir Putin turned him gay
Oprah Winfrey (as a transgendered Othello) :
Oh where, oh where is Desdemona?
I lie here in bed making many a moana
but I hear no Desdemona a groana.
Narrator:
Ms. Winfrey, you’re in the wrong theatre
this is what happens when you drink too much beera
The LGBTQ production of Othello is next door
please watch those Jesuit condoms on the floor
as from this theatre to that, you kindly pass
while Pope Francis’ order celebrates a Baphomet Mass
Oprah:
Oh damn, oh damn,
so much for a grand slam,
Roseanne Barr plays a transgendered Iago
while Donald Trump calls Robert Mueller a fago.
Narrator:
And now Oprah is moving her ass
as from this theatre to that, she kindly does pass
And now we shall begin our own theatrical tale
as Greenpeace activist encounters a methane gas producing carbon emissions whale
caused by Jefferey the otter’s cooked extra spicy pork and beans tipping the scale
And the good ship Demeter crashes
as Mina Harker bats her eyelashes
for the methane gas producing whale has sunk the ship
while Greenpeace activist takes a Justin Trudeau inspired trip
And Count Dracula (played by Wilkie the Cat) swims ashore
while his coffin is carried by a yarmulke wearing rabbi wild boar
it’s a good thing the boar is no porcine Hannibal Lecter
otherwise his culinary tastes would violate the Mosaic laws inspector
I forgot to mention that Mitzi la feline actress Parisienne plays Mina Harker
as Dr. Jack Seward’s asylum patient Renfield eats Peter Parker
Spiderman is now gone
a marvel of a swan song
Lackey of Christopher Lee has triumphed over a Lee named Stan
as Antifa takes a statue of Robert E. into the can
The Confederate military hero
is to the political left a great big zero
even though he freed his own slaves long before did Ulysses S. Grant
but this is all ignored in a New York Times rant
Dracula swims ashore near Whitby Abbey
where Canterbury’s ex-ArchDruid Rowan Williams looks crabby
he should have had the lobster flambe instead of crabs a l’amour
given him while dallying with a young French paramour
And Jonathan Harker (played by Kelsey Grammer) watches in horror
as Dracula seduces his sweet love Lenore
oops! – wrong script! – Poe’s The Raven is the performance for tomorrow night
as this Wilkie production of Dracula shuts down this theatre’s marquee light
As Dr. Abraham Van Helsing played by David Hyde Pierce
moves in to collect Dracula’s Transylvanian government tax arrears
he stabs the vampiric nobleman through the heart
as the carbon emissions whale in the sea lets out one last fart.
Both Greenpeace activist and Count Dracula are now dead
The janitor will have to wipe the spot where Wilkie has bled
for a real stake was mistakenly used instead of a prop
the hazards of hiring for a prop hand a drunken sop.
-A Wilkie The Cat poem
written by Christopher
Saturday October 27th
2018.
Desdemona’s Death Scene by Dante Gabriel Rosetti
A scene from a 19th Century British production of William Shakespeare’s Othello
very different from an early 21st Century American production of Othello
Reblog of The Poem Calcutta in Solitude
A truly poetic masterpiece about a great city written by Nada a great poetess from India.
Calcutta in solitude,
Like an old postcard
From the Colonial
Fresh Ink over the old testament
Old,
Precious,
Dipped in the holy sweetness of joy.
Uncanny sometimes,
Like Coffee Stains and lies.
The old holy chimes
Freshly painted lies,
First editions
New lighters,
New books, and
Chai.
Calcutta, oh Calcutta,
You have had me the first time.
I saw you through my momma’s eyes
In her memories
In her childhood times.
I see the places she talked about
The food
The history of her time.
I see the mysteries
And literature,
I see art,
The nostalgia of her lullaby.
I found my soul sister
I bribed her with chocolate shakes,
Laughed and drank all night.
I have made friends,
I found love
In the end.
I wore his t-shirt to weep,
To make love to him…
To feel him
To miss him in solitude.
He came from another city
To…
View original post 74 more words
Wilkie The Cat As The Shadow: A Poem
Wilkie considered himself the Big Apple’s NYC leading thespian
When he told people what he did, they thought he said lesbian
but thespian was the Shakespearean term for actor
not a bull dyke riding one Hell of a tractor
Now Wilkie was a feline by species
one whose litter box was full of feces
Wilkie naturally thought of himself as a cool cat
when he played James Cagney saying, “You dirty rat.”
Now the lovely French cat Mitzi was the love of his life
he longed to make la belle mademoiselle his beloved wife
but the Parisienne Pussy (so called by President Macron) wanted no such strife
for her current single state now was such a delightful life
Now it came to pass that a big Broadway producer
when he encountered a #MeToo woman, he did goose her
now he was in disgraced exile
Alyssa Milano’s Wiccan spells cast on him by the pile
only Bret Kavanaugh’s pile of hexes was much longer
as Hillary made a voodoo doll of Bill and his donger
Now it so happened that Wilkie had several incriminating photos
of the producer seducing starlets in one of his chateaux
so Wilkie blackmailed the producer from Park Avenue
who forced gruesome things on the young nubile Frou Frou La Rue
and made him finance Wilkie’s new play
a heavy price the theatrical big wig had to pay
for wanting to engage in getting a lay
in such a very strange, awkward and peculiar way
Wilkie wanted to do a stage version of that old radio play The Shadow
that showed Man About Town Lamont Cranston always on the go
The Shadow’s object of affection was one Margo Lane
to organized crime, Lamont Cranston was a first rate pain
So once again a Wilkie directed Broadway stage play came to pass
Theatre critics went to the play expecting the feline to again make himself an ass
and Wilkie certainly did not let them down
The Broadway disaster was the talk of the town
Wilkie playing Cranston opened the play with The Shadow’s opening line,
“Who knows what…” and there was a sudden pause,
as Wilkie held to his head his feline claws
for the catty thespian had forgotten his lines
to say nothing of not paying library card fines
He was recognized by a librarian sitting in the audience
who leapt on stage like a secret agent of a Saudi Crown Prince incensed
Mitzi leapt into action with her parasol to prevent Wilkie being dismembered on the spot
and Trump’s future defense of petulant librarians was such poppycock
the aftereffects of a urine coloured toupee causing a brain to rot
The play’s opening moments were its very last
petulant librarian got a parasol up the ass
and Wilkie’s earlier pork and beans dinner produced much gas
and the pervert producer’s line of credit did not come to pass
for he committed hari kari permanently ending his tendency to harass
So now the time has come to say to one and all, Good night
as for The Shadow playing a 2nd night, theatre owner told Wilkie to go fly a kite.
-A Wilkie The Cat poem
written by Christopher
Thursday October 17th
2018.
A Renfieldian Haiku For Ariana Grande
A Renfieldian Haiku For Ariana Grande
“What are you looking so pleased about?” Amadeus Emanon asked his friend Renfield R. Renfield MP.
“Ariana Grande broke up with her boyfriend Pete Davidson,” Renfield grinned from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat, “so now I’ll be able to ask her out on a date.”
“Didn’t she call you a pervert the last time you talked to her on the phone?” Amadeus asked.
“She did,” Renfield nodded, “but I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. I’ve written her a haiku.”
Renfield’s Haiku For Ariana Grande
Dear Ariana
Your breasts are quite safe with me
Love from your Renfield
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday October 17th
2018.
Reblog of La Coco Mojo Trobada
David Redpath makes it with a succubus who’s a daughter of Cernunnos the Horned God in Celtic mythology.
As Pope Francis might put it, you can’t keep a good Stang down.
Looking for hidden treasure
in the doing of serious leisure
at the most exotic Coco Mojo bar
As that coral sea
just keeps glistening
in the tropical sun
I’m ordering yet another
mango mojito
whilst listening to Mojo JuJu
singing that native tongue
View original post 651 more words
Reflections On The Mystery of Love
October 23, 2018 at 10:23 pm (Commentary, Literature, love, Science, Science-Fiction, Vampire novel) (Akira, Lasetter, Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster, Paul, The Egyptologist Dr. Edgar Lovecraft Ashbury)
“Love is a mystery, the world’s greatest mystery, a mystery so great that even I Hercules Poirot the world’s greatest detective will never be able to solve it.”
– Hercules Poirot the great Belgian detective created by British writer Agatha Christie
“Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I. Yet we have all felt its effects.”
-Canadian writer W.O. Mitchell in his book Who Has Seen The Wind?
God is love and he that abideth in love abideth in God and God in him.
– I John 4:8
“There is no God.”
-Stephen Hawking
The fool has said in his heart, There is no God.
– Psalm 14:1
General to Egypt’s King Ptolemy I:
I regret to say your Majesty that the great mathematician Euclid has died of insanity.
Ptolemy I: And what brought about this insanity?
General: He was trying to find a mathematical equation to explain love.
-From an ancient Egyptian manuscript discovered by the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s personal Egyptologist Dr. Edgar Lovecraft Ashbury
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a vision in his lobster tank at London’s Set Enterprises on how a future scene would be written in a great science-fiction novel:
Paul looked at Lasetter, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”.
Lasetter indeed looked pale (he really should spend more time out in the sunlight), “I wish I had.”
From the expression on Lasetter’s face, Paul figured that now would not be the time to tell him that the IRS had dropped by half an hour ago to tell him that he Lasseter was now the subject of a tax audit.
“What’s wrong?” Paul asked.
“It’s Akira,” Lasetter answered, “She’s gone totally off the rails. She’s up and done something that I have no explanation for.”
“What’s she done?” Paul asked with trepidation feeling the butterflies in his stomach and wondering what bizarre meteorological phenomenon was taking place on the other side of the world as a result of all this.
“She’s fallen in love,” Lasseter peed his pants.
“She’s what?” Paul handed him a towel and started to look around for the nearest washroom himself.
“Fallen in love?” Paul gasped, “How the Hell did that happen?”.
“How the Hell should I know?” Lasetter retorted, “An AI sex robot actually falling in love? I’m afraid no matter how hard I’ve tried to formulate one, there are no algorithms to explain the origin of the phenomenon of love.”
“You mean to say there’s actually something you don’t know?” Paul was genuinely shocked.
“Apparently,” Lasetter took a nice long hard sip on his phallus shaped whiskey flask.
-A scene from The Great Unknown Science-Fiction Novel written by the great unknown science-fiction writer George Finneganberg.
-A personal essay, commentary and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 23rd 2018
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