Reflective

January 13, 2022 at 11:37 pm (Poetry) ()

Glass empty
The night is long
Morning will come
Hold head
Strange goddess
Appears in reflection
Three golden globes rise
Night of strange occurrences
Reflection reflects other realities
Table of shining glass
A mirror to other realities
Should she have drunk the glass
To gaze in other dimensions
That she wasn’t meant to see?

-A poem written by Christopher
Thursday January 13th
2022.

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Poem About Sidney Poitier R.I.P.

January 7, 2022 at 8:43 pm (Film, Movies, News, Poetry) ()

Sidney Poitier (February 20th 1927 – January 6th 2022)

Christ said, “Consider the lilies of the field,
they toil not, they spin not
Yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as one of these”
How fitting that this great actor and man of class
Won an Oscar for a film titled Lilies of The Field.

Guess who’s coming to dinner?
A man who is a scholar and gentleman

A man of considerable talent
A man of great charm and personality
A man who made a difference in the world
A life well lived
And now all we can say is
To Sir with love.

-A poetic tribute to Sidney Poitier
Written by Christopher
Friday January 7th
2021.

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Light and Shadow

January 4, 2022 at 9:18 pm (Poetry) ()

Sitting in the light
Reaching arm through dark shadows
Grasp flower in light

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The Christmas Tree and The Elf

December 25, 2021 at 8:13 pm (Christmas, Poetry) (, )

“One of the ornaments needs adjusting,”
Said the beautiful female elf
Who stood on a ladder and adjusted
The ornament below the Christmas Star.

5 minutes ago there was not a beautiful female elf in my room
But now there is.
Merry Chistmas.
10 minutes ago there was not a ladder in my room
But it appeared 9 minutes ago.
24 hours there was not a Christmas tree in my room
But it appeared when I woke up this morning.

Christmas Tree
Then ladder
Then beautiful female elf.

Christmas Magic is obviously at work here.

Or maybe what the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future
Put in my eggnog last night.

Whatever it was, Merry Christmas!
Feliz Navidad!
Chuc mung Giang Sinh!

(I attended a Spanish language Church over the summer.
And the closest Church to where I now live is a Vietnamese Catholic Church.
So I attended there for Christmas Eve Mass last night and went there for Christmas Day Mass today).

-A Christmas poem
written by Christopher
Saturday December 25th
2021.

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Christmas Eve 2021

December 24, 2021 at 10:50 pm (Poetry) ()

Over 2 millenia ago in Bethlehem was born a Light
Born on a night of a celestial Star so bright
Oh Cosmos’ brightest light
Shine on us this very night.

-A poem written by Christopher
Christmas Eve
December 24th 2021

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The 12 Days of Covid

December 11, 2021 at 10:44 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Poetry) (, , , , , )

On the 1st day of Covid, the global elite sold to me a lie from a Wuhan bat tree,
On the 2nd day of Covid, the global elite sold to me a two week lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 3rd day of Covid, the global elite sold to me three emerging variants, a two week lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 4th day of Covid, the global elite sold to me four emergency decrees, three emerging variants, a two week lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 5th day of Covid, the global elite sold to me 5 censored sites- Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, Instagram and Google
You deviate from the line you’re a dead poodle
And a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 6th day of Covid, the global elite sold to me six Australian Hitlers, 5 censored sites, four emergency decrees, three emerging variants, two weeks lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 7th day of Covid, the global elite sold to me 7 continents gone Gulag, six Australian Hitlers, 5 censored sites, four emergency decrees, three emerging variants, two weeks lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 8th Day of Covid, the global elite sold to me 8 x 10 million votes for Biden’s senility, 7 continents gone Gulag, six Australian Hitlers, 5 censored sites, four emergency decrees, three emerging variants, two weeks lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 9th day of Covid, the global elite sold to me a 9 billion people genocide (courtesy of Bill Gates), 8 x 10 million votes for Biden’s senility, 7 continents gone Gulag, six Australian Hitlers, 5 censored sites, four emergency decrees, three emerging variants, two weeks lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 10th day of Covid, the global elite sold to me $10 trillion Big Pharma profits, a 9 billion people genocide, 8 x 10 million votes for Biden’s senility, 7 continents gone Gulag, six Austalian Hitlers, 5 censored sites, four emergency decrees, three emerging variants, two weeks lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 11th day of Covid, the global elite sold to me 11 million Fauci lies, $10 trillion Big Pharma profits, a 9 billion people genocide, 8 x 10 million votes for Biden’s senility, 7 continents gone Gulag, six Australian Hitlers, 5 censored sites, four emergency decrees, three emerging variants, two weeks lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.
On the 12th day of Covid, the global elite sold to me 12 thousand booster shot vaccines, 11 million Fauci lies, $10 trillion Big Pharma profits, a 9 billion people genocide, 8 x 10 million votes for Biden’s senility, 7 continents gone Gulag, six Australian Hitlers, 5 censored sites, four emergency decrees, three emerging variants, two weeks lockdown and a lie from a Wuhan bat tree.

(The 12 days of Covid were spread throughout the time period of the Covid-19 plandemic which is still ongoing).

-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday December 11th
2021.

“We are living in a Covid-19 world and I’m a Covid-19 girl…”

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December Woman In White

December 1, 2021 at 9:15 pm (Poetry) (, , , )

December Woman In White

Narnia a land where it was always winter
But never Christmas
C.S. Lewis once wrote

December
it seems should be a depressing month
A month where the nights are long
And darkness should abide the land

But Christmas has lights on Christmas trees
And warm wine and chilled ale
And frosty eggnog
And glasses of punch
Served fresh from the punch bowl
And music and song
And wrapped presents and bows
Under the Christmas tree
And children’s eyes lit up with wonder
As it seems magic dances
On the frosty landscape

But for Edgar Allan Poe
It was the bleak December
Where strangers rap at one’s chamber door
turning out to be stately ravens crying “Nevermore”
Bringing back sad memories of the long lost Lenore

So it is every year at this time
Christmas joy vs. the bleak December
It is only in remembering the Christ child
That Christmas joy arises
Otherwise it’s just a senseless spending spree
An evening of gluttony often spent with relatives one can’t stand
And then when the presents are open and the guests gone
A feeling of emptiness sets in

Ravens rapping at the chamber door crying “Nevermore”
Might be far more preferrable
And less a bleak December
Than the commercialism of forced-fed happiness
Which is like a vaccine that could kill you
But everyone in authority urges you to take it.

Born originally in a city
Where a satanic looking T-Rex statue dominates one side of the valley
And the statue of Christ of the Badlands dominates the other
He now resides in a trailer in a trailer park
Where a kitten called Samson sleeps on the empty bunk bed above him
And then crawls down in the middle of the night to sleep at his feet
And then lays on his stomach during the afternoon as he watches old black and white movies on his tablet
And the kitten watches the movies with him
Occasionally reaching out to touch the people on the screen
And wonders why they’re not there

Neo-Stalinist demagogues wanting everyone to take the poison of the vaccine
Talk of a dark winter coming
While 2000 years earlier an angel said to shepherds,
“Behold I bring you tidings of great joy”
A king in Jerusalem was the arbiter of death
A babe in Bethlehem was the giver of life
Death vs. Life, Lies vs. the truth,
Darkness vs. The Light,
So it has always been
So it shall always be
Until Christ’s 2nd coming in glory.

For this mysterious woman who haunts his dreams
This December Woman In White

She awaits the joy of Christmas
As does he
While a “bleak December” turns to ashes
Like the embers in his old wood stove
In the trailer.

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday December 1st 2021.

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Lili Marleen At The Piano

November 30, 2021 at 9:44 pm (Poetry) (, , , )

Lili Marleen at the piano

It was approaching Christmas 1947
Thanksgiving was over
And the turkeys had been eaten
In those days turkeys didn’t sit
In the Oval Office
Like they do today.

LA Private Eye Carson Cody Albion
had headed north to San Francisco
It was a slight drizzle
As Albion wandered the streets
He saw a cocktail lounge
On the other side of where he stood
The Blue Pacific
It looked inviting

He crossed the street
And looked at the sign
Outside the cafe
It said
Lili Marleen singing here tonight.

Lili Marleen,
Albion lit a cigarette
And then blew smoke rings
And thought
Lili Marleen had been one of his favourite songs
Listening to on the radio
As America fought Hitler and Tojo
During the War Years of WWII.

It had originally been a First World War song
But brought back in this war
As Woodrow Wilson was shown to be wrong
For stating that the War of 1914-1918
Was the War To End All Wars

It was Vera Lynn
The woman called Yorkshire’s Rose
Who used to sing it

“Underneath the lantern
by the barrack gate
Darling I remember
The way you used to wait
‘Twas there that you whispered tenderly
That you loved me
You’d always be
My Lili of the lamplight
My own Lili Marlene…”

Carson Cody Albion walked into the bar
And there noticed a woman who was sitting atop the piano
Who presumably was Lili Marleen

“Hello, Mr. Albion,”
Lili Marleen smiled at him,
“I’m glad of all the cocktail lounges
in all the world
you chose to walk into this one”.

Albion smiled
He liked her welcoming demeanor
And her Humphrey Bogart Casablanca like reference
But most of all her welcoming demeanor

They danced together
Underneath the crystal globe on the ceiling
As the orchestra played
On this night in The Blue Pacific Lounge
She was his own Lili Marleen.

-A Carson Cody Albion poem
written by Christopher
Tuesday November 30th
2021.

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November Birthday

November 28, 2021 at 10:45 pm (Poetry) ()

The month after Halloween
The month before Christmas
Caught between ghosts and goblins and witches
And the Light of the Christ Child
Born in the stable in Bethlehem
Between light and dark
Between headstones on lawns
And Nativity scenes and angels
This is Cold November

This is the month I was born
Born on the same day as William Blake
Born the day before C.S. Lewis
Born 2 days before Winston Churchill
(All heroes of mine)
Not in the same years of course.

Cold November
The month I was born
When frost kisses the trees
And hope lights up
Sweet November

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday November 28th 2021.

Sweet November

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Towards Christmas

November 25, 2021 at 8:50 pm (Christmas, Poetry) (, , )

Christmas
A month away from today
Neo-Stalinist dictators
sitting in the Oval Office
are calling for a “Dark Winter”

The smile of the Neo-Stalinist dictator
As he diabolically whispers into his microphone
Is strikingly like the smile of the Grinch
Have you noticed?

Well if you steal an election
Why not steal Christmas?

C.S. Lewis said of Narnia under the rule of the White Witch
It was a land where it was always winter but never Christmas
People have always tried to prevent Christmas
From Judea’s King Herod
To Hitler who called it Julfest the Winter Solstice

In North America the supply chains are down
Ports at Long Beach and Los Angeles
Are backed up with ships waiting to be unloaded
(You’d see more than 3 ships on Christmas Day in the morning
This coming California Christmas)
In British Columbia, roads on Vancouver Island and the Lower Mainland are washed out due to flooding
The supply chain from Vancouver (Canada’s largest port)
to the rest of Canada now gone.

Pachamama has given her answer to B.C.’s Marxist government on its vaccine mandates
and hysteria over climate change,
“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn”.
Leaving them without roads
And without a pot to piss in.

It is still very much autumn here
No permanent snow on the ground yet
People have placed Christmas lights
In the neighbourhood
Giving a cheery glow

It is natural to long for Christmas
Rather than a dark winter.

Even so, Come Lord Jesus.

-A poem written by Christopher
Thursday November 25th
2021.

Veronica Lake longs for Christmas
Rather than a dark winter

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