Autumn Welcome

September 22, 2020 at 10:03 pm (Poetry) (, , , )

It was autumn
As the princess walked through the forest
Some of the leaves had turned as red
As the colour of her hair

Other leaves had turned as orange
As the colour of one of her dress sleeves
As it blew gently in the breeze
In the shadow of a beckoning tree

Still other leaves had turned as gold
As the colour of her other dress sleeve
As it glistened in reflecting the golden rays of the sun
That shone through the opening in the forest

The top part of her dress was an amazing
And beautiful array of red, orange and gold
While her bottom skirt was as green
As the grass of the summer season now left behind

A blue jay had landed on her finger
With its colours of blue, black and white
Another bird with blue head, wings and tail
Plus orange breast and white bottom
Headed for a finger on her other hand

A bird with yellow breast
And head of white, black and dark green
Nestled on a dark branch
Of a small still green tree
On her right side

Behind her a bird flew
Yet to come into view
To reveal its colours
In the rays of the golden sun
That shone through the forest opening

It was autumn
And the princess was in the forest
With her friends the birds
Forming a collage to show
That in autumn
The earth wears a coat of many colours

-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday September 22nd
Northern Autumn Equinox
2020.

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Dawn Embrace

September 19, 2020 at 10:18 pm (History, Literature, love, Poetry, Romance) ()


Their kiss welcomed the break of dawn
As morning dove sang a welcome song
far from the far-off battle throng
Knowing this embrace might be their last
Let not this moment go by fast

In each generation, evil raises its cruel slithering head
filling so many lands with much fear and dread
And those noble in soul must rise to the charge
to slay that evil before it grows too large

When evil arises, many are called to make sacrifice
And often one’s own life must bear the price
At times just due to fatal roll of the dice
But for one moment, call a halt to the sands of time
let this moment be captured in verse and rhyme

Let one more kiss do impart
Lest one must fall to death’s dire dart
And return no more full of body and soul
Leaving a grieving heart with a pierced hole.

-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday September 19th 2020.

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Wilkie The Cat Western

September 11, 2020 at 10:54 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Humour, Poetry, western) (, , , , , , , )

Announcer: The ghost of Orson Welles is now here to give you the introduction to the Wilkie the Cat western.

Welles (appears holding a spectral glass of red wine): Thank you Mr. Announcer. Wilkie the cat is a well known feline thespian and stage director best known for holding the record for the most number of plays
that closed after a perfomance of only one night on Broadway.
Now with the advent of the Chinese Communist Party Wuhan virus which the Ethiopian Communist head of the World Health Organization the non-medical Doctor Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus insists be called the Covid-19 virus, the lights are shut down all over Broadway and not just on Wilkie’s lights out plays.
Thus Wilkie with the love of his life Mitzie (a femme fatale Parisienne cat from Paris) has decided to go into filmmaking. And Wilkie is now making a Western where social distancing will be practiced.
The western now begins in the form of a poem:

Wilkie the Cat was out on the desert trail riding his horse
In a land where there was no Radio Shack or store called The Source
He came to a sign
posted on a cactus’ behind
that said Town Straight Ahead
He rode by a cowboy who looked to be dead
for his skull and his bones were all bleached white
and the fat vulture’s jeans seem to be fitting quite tight

Into the town Wilkie the Cat rode
And parked his horse alongside a fine looking toad
He decided to enter the saloon for a cold one
And entered looking like a son of a gun

The cat Dangerous Dan McGraw was up at the bar
Counting all his pennies from an old glass jar
Meanwhile on the saloon stage was Mitzie the star
singing about her home town of Paris a city quite far

Wilkie the Cat ordered a large glass of milk
And gazed at Mitzie’s legs in nylons of silk
Hey, Dangerous Dan shouted with a threatening glare
Stop looking at my girlfriend’s underwear

Mitzie turned and looked at the handsome catwhiskers stranger
And thought Wilkie must be one heck of a lost Texas ranger
She gave him a wink
which added to the stink
in Dangerous Dan’s countenance most foul
which seemed to be accentuated by the hooting of an owl

Step up in the street for a showdown
Dangerous Dan shouted with a huge downward frown
Wilkie said, I’ll be back after dealing with this clown

Into the street they went
With their holsters quite bent
And they stood face to face
After having walked many a pace

“Draw!” Cried the town crier
As he blew himself with a hair dryer
Pencil and sketch paper came out of opposing holsters
And each hand moved quickly like fast acting roller coasters

Dangerous Dan drew a stick man with a trash can
While Mitzie was on saloon steps fanning herself with a fan
Wilkie drew the Mona Lisa kicking Edvard Munch’s figure making him scream
While Dangerous Dan’s stick man came apart at the seam

My hero! Mitzie the Parisienne gave Wilkie the Cat a kiss
As Dangerous Dan retreated to an outhouse in search of bliss

Wlkie’s sketch was hung in the Wild West Saloon
The subject of an unrecorded Kenny Rogers tune
Wilkie The Cat and Mitzie rode off into the sunset
While the overweight vulture looked for new clothes to let.

-A Wilkie The Cat
narrative poem
written by Christopher
Friday September 11th
2020.

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The Duck Called Samuel Puddlington At The Wax Museum

September 6, 2020 at 10:18 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Poetry) (, , , , , )

There was a Saint Bernard drinking a barrel flask of doubling gin
This side of the town of Duddlington
When he was approached by the duck called Samuel Puddlington

“Good sir,” said the duck as he raised his hat
Which scared off an approaching ravenous cat
“I’m looking for the wax museum in town,
Am I on the right path? Or am I out of bound?”

Said the big furry giant, “Go two blocks yonder and make a left
Like the present Communist Pope of faith bereft,
There you will find the town’s wax museum
With washrooms closed so outside you’ll be peein’. ”

So Samuel Puddlington followed the big dog’s directions
And passed by the store Big Al’s Furniture Selections
There across the street was the wax museum
And following the dog’s advice, outside did his peein’.

He paid his entrance fee and entered the space
which was filled with men and women of varied time and place
There was Marie Antoinette who lost her head
and Robespierre whose Reign of Terror was dread
Until at Guillotine himself, he made his own bed

There was Cleopatra the Queen of The Nile
And Jekyll trying to hide Hyde in his nail file
And meeting his end on the banks of the Thames was Jack the Ripper
Who was swallowed by a heroic giant fish named Flipper

“That definitely explains why they never found Jack!”
Said Sam as he pulled a feather out of his back
Down the hall were comic book characters Richie Rich and Sad Sack
Plus Wolfman Larry Talbot leading the wolves in the pack

In contemporary times
As he jotted down rhymes
were Donald Trump with his silly looking toupee
And Joe Biden whose mind was lost on the way
While in the background, Stalin’s and Mao’s ghosts were at play.

At the end of the hall Lincoln sat in his Ford Theatre seat looking sad
For the play title author’s American cousin had gone mad
Neo-Nazi and Confederate vampire battled Bolshevik and Maoist
And meditating on the sidelines was Buddhist and Taoist

Lincoln’s last words heard by Mary Todd were
“We will visit the Holy Land and see those places
hallowed by the footsteps of the Savior”
like an empty tomb that once marked where a grave were
“There is no city on Earth I so much desire to see as Jerusalem”
Site of where Isaac was saved by the blood of the ram
And the world’s humanity was saved by the blood of the Lamb.

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday September 6th
2020.

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If Orson Welles Had Lived His Life As A Black Cat…

September 3, 2020 at 10:28 pm (Comedy, Entertainment, Film, Humour, Literature, Poetry) (, , , , , , )

If Orson Welles had lived his life as a black cat:

How Orson As A Black Cat Would Have Performed A Shakespearian Soliquy From MacBeth:

Is this a can of tuna fish I see before me?
Come let me clutch thee.
I have thee not and yet I see thee still
In form as palpable as this which now I draw…

Orson as the Black Cat produces a sketch of Vincent Van Gogh minus an ear.

How Orson As A Black Cat Would Have Done Citizen Kane:

Now is the winter of our discontent
For young master’s sled is gravely bent
And do you think when it hit the kitty litter
Which caused everyone’s nose to flitter
And caused me to say, aye there’s the rub
It would come up smelling like a rosebud?

How Orson As A Black Cat Would Have Recited Poe’s The Raven:

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door,
“Tis the pizza delivery those silly humans have ordered,”
Quoth I, “only this and nothing more.”

How Orson As A Black Cat Would Have Recited His Lines In
Tennessee Williams’ Cat On A Hot Tin Roof:

Orson as Black Cat (playing the cat ON the hot tin roof):

Me-Owww! Me-Owww! Me-Owww!


If Orson Welles had lived his life as a black cat

-written by Christopher
Thursday September 3rd
2020

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Another September

September 1, 2020 at 10:06 pm (Poetry) (, , )

Dawn of a new month
September
It was strange he had always thought of September
as an autumn month
Yet technically speaking the first 20 days of September
were usually considered officially summer
The last days of summer

But the leaves on the trees did not follow technicalities
For already they were starting to turn red and gold
The colours of autumn
heralding the advent of autumn

The city in which he lived
worshipped strange gods
cruel gods
perverted gods
Abomination and depravity
was how they marked September
He much prefered the leaves on the trees
falling to the ground
and being swept up by the winds
of a change of seasons
than any celebration of the darkness
within human hearts

-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday September 1st 2020.

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Minerva

August 21, 2020 at 11:02 pm (Commentary, Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Poetry) (, , , , , )

And all the leather bound volumes on shelves were buried under dust
And all the gold on many crowns had finally turned to rust
A wireless library stretched across the globe
which technocrats wanted implants in everyone’s frontal lobe

Every fact and every fiction was now determined by Google
10 years hence you may see pic of Siamese cat when you search for “poodle”
And all will say it must be so
For high tech is not our foe

Alexa has replaced the shrink by the couch
With bar codes in your hands, no money to welch
Social interaction is missing like a person’s lips
Buried under a mask with one’s nose and no sinking ships

All that one sees are the other person’s eyes
Which have been Net trained to show nothing but lies
“The truth is out there” is a phrase now foreign as ancient Etruscan
if Truth ever existed, it’s as dead as electoral collusion with a Russian

The truth is not out there, it’s neither here nor there
For every day is filled with hope previous generations labelled “despair”
They march in tune to the beat of a non-existent drummer
where an eternal winter is labelled an endless summer

Good little sheep they all are
Marching near and far
For 2020 was the year most lost perfect vision
As their minds were infected by a diabolical incision

2030 was the UN’s sustainable goal
But the world’s elites bet on a closer running foal
And they got their wish
from the bottom of a Wuhan petri dish

The medium was indeed the message like Marshall McLuhan predicted
And people soon ceased calling themselves “homeless” after they were evicted
The media echoed the same message day after day
And people’s souls were lost like needle in the hay
And the Devil smiled as he sang “You’re all going my way”

“Be careful what you wish for” was now an old forgotten refrain
lost in a forgotten past like the whistle of ancient steam train
They had spent so much time in the late 20th Century watching movies
about lands of Dystopia and the post-Apocalypse
That finally when in reality it came to pass, no one asked, what is this?

Far from the madd’ing crowd that was so maddening
He lived in a home far away
surrounded by books and old leather volumes
where the sun ruled the day and the moon ruled the night
And 2 +2 = 5 was never ever right

In his mind’s eye he saw the lovely Athena
ancient goddess of wisdom that haunted his dreama’
Minerva was her Roman name
and she bore wisdom’s flame

Holding ancient scrolls
She pointed towards those
Who sought her light still
like one man alone on the side of a hill
Who sought neither the blue nor the Matrix red pill
For all medication inclined for a soul to kill

Her owl flew in the direction
of a world far from perfection
Knowledge to impart
Even just for one was a start.

-A poem written by Christopher
Friday August 20th
2020.

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The Spirit of Apollyon: From Hiroshima To Beirut

August 6, 2020 at 10:34 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Poetry, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

“And they had a king over them, which is the angel of the bottomless pit, whose name in the Hebrew tongue is Abaddon, but in the Greek tongue hath his name Apollyon.”
-The Apocalypse of Saint John 9:11

British MP Renfield R. Renfield read aloud a poem he had written:

Today is the 75th Anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima
which killed almost 150,000 people
and left others scarred and maimed for life
Plus numerous deaths from cancer over the years

The atomic bomb was given the epithet Little Boy
and was dropped by a B-29 called the Enola Gay
(quite possibly because it was the first LGBTQ2s+ plus
military plane in history)

J. Robert Oppenheimer who helped develop the atomic bomb
remarked upon its creation, a line from the Bhagavad Gita,
“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”
Shiva in his most destructive aspect,
that of the Destroyer
whose Hebrew name and equivalent was Abaddon
and whose Greek name and equivalent was Apollyon.

A couple of days ago an explosion 1/10 the size of Hiroshima’s atomic explosion
rocked the city of Beirut Lebanon
killing at least 137 people
and injuring about 5000 others
while dozens more are still missing

The cause was an explosion of ammonium nitrate
stored in a Beirut port warehouse
that had sat there for 6 years
after it had been taken off an impounded sea vessel back in 2013
The Rhosus a Moldovan flagged ship
on its way from Georgia to Mozambique
and had entered Beirut port
after suffering technical problems.

Port officials had been asking court officials for years
for permission to remove the ammonium nitrate from the warehouse
but Lebanese courts acting with the same constipated air of irregularity
that grips the bowels and the minds of their fellow judicial counterparts all over the world
sat and did nothing

The spirit of Apollyon can dance many dances
a dance that’s quick and swift like what happened at Hiroshima
75 years ago
or a dance that’s a slow dance that builds to a crescendo
like what happened in Beirut a couple of days ago
after a 6 year very slow waltz.

-A poem by Renfield R. Renfield

Epilogue:

The Buddhist goddess of mercy Kwan Yin sat and wept when she saw the destruction at Hiroshima 75 years ago on August 6th 1945.

On the beaches of Beirut, Thessalonike of Macedon the immortal mermaid half-sister of Alexander the Great wept when she saw the destructive explosion that rocked Beirut Lebanon on August 4th 2020.

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday August 6th 2020.

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Tidings

August 4, 2020 at 10:47 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Poetry) (, , )


It was a pleasant autumn evening in Moscow
when the news came
The government in Saint Petersburg
had fallen to Lenin and the Bolsheviks

A way of life was about to change
Tyranny now imposed in the name of freedom
Russians must revert back to serfdom
to serve the chosen few
The vanguard of the Revolution

The spires of Christ’s Cross now replaced by the Hammer and Sickle
A hammer that nailed the nails into Christ’s wrists
and a sickle to cut down hordes of people like grain
in a harvest of blood
from which will rise Heaven on Earth
so the new Soviet masters say

Russians must go from honouring the empty tomb of Christ
To honouring the Pergamum temple shaped mausoleum tomb of Lenin
within a space of seven years

The Soviet “paradise” was Hell on Earth
but the official Party line was
“It’s Heaven on Earth”

And Siberia or worse
for denying the official Party line

Today the Washington Post, New York Times and CNN
disinformation branches of the New World Order Ministry of Propaganda
speak a similar Party line
as the old USSR
seeks to rise again
and this time go global
riding the wings of a virus.

-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday August 4th 2020.

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Millicent Patrick’s Creation

August 1, 2020 at 10:35 pm (Culture, Entertainment, Film, Poetry) (, , )

Millicent Patrick at work: Giving personality and soul to the Creature From The Black Lagoon

Millicent Patrick was the artist
who sketched and designed the creature
who was the Creature From The Black Lagoon

A 1954 film made in 3D
And for those with eyes to see
The Creature was 3 dimensional in more ways than one

In toy model kits of the 1960s
The Creature was considered
one of the Universal Pictures film monsters

But the Creature was no monster
It was scientists who came to his Amazon River habitat
To grab him and take him back to captivity for scientific study

They were the monsters
As for the Creature, who defended his habitat
and tried to escape from captivity

Monster they called him
but monster he was not
He was the proverbial fish out of water

The woman in the film
who he was portrayed as menacing her in film posters
She showed some sympathy for the Creature

Millicent was a true artist
one who showed great sensitivity
Like all true artists, she imbued her creation with life and soul

As she sat at her sketch board
etching and sketching and drawing and painting
She slowly brought her creation to life

And that Creature
moved from drawing board to clay model
and then to celluoid film

But a Creature with soul
who showed more signs of humanity
than the humans who captured him

Almost 50 years later
The Creature still provokes empathy from those who feel
And a sense of pathos to be found within that tragedy called “modern science”

A woman artist gave him soul on her sketch board
And that tragic soul still calls out to all those who see, hear and feel
Across a vast stretch of space and time so many years later

-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday August 1st 2020.

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