Carson Albion Private Eye Walks The Boulevard of Memories: A Poem
Carson Albion Private Eye Walks The Boulevard of Memories: A Poem
Carson Albion Private Eye sat in his office with the sideway blinds of his window slightly open
to let in the evening twilight
He loved the evening twilight
just as he loved neon lights
His office window gave him a view of the neon lights of downtown
How beautiful they looked in the evening twilight
They looked even more beautiful in the snow and the rain
One of the few creations of man that did look more beautiful in the snow and the rain
When it snowed or rained
while strolling the city streets
he looked up at the signs of neon advertising the gods Coca-Cola and Miller Beer
and then he looked down at the sidewalk gutters for signs of rhinestone cowboys
but they must have already been washed down to the sewers
dwelling place of nightmares, monsters and vermin
and assassins of character who work for the last Trump
and wait for John McCain to die.
The ceiling fans in his office blew cold air down on his head
offering relief from the heat of the night
The bottle of bourbon stood open on his desk
offering relief from those memories too painful to bear
She… she… her…
He never told her that he loved her
but that was because she was his best friend
How would she react to the news that he wanted to take their relationship up another level
what if she didn’t feel the same way about him?
Then he’d have lost his best friend.
Because such are the ways of male-female friendship
that if one of them loves the other too much
in a way above and beyond what they had previously understood
There’s no going back
It was like what Dermot Mulroney’s character said to Julia Roberts’ character in the film
My Best Friend’s Wedding
when Julia announces she wants the romance over
Dermot weeps, “I’m losing my best friend.”
Somehow though they manage to hold on to the friendship
in the film that is
but that’s Hollywood
and we all know how much Hollywood echoes real life
For real life is not a fairy tale
and they only award Oscars
for dramatic performances
not for actually surviving day to day.
Albion saw the reflection of himself in his glass
Was a reflection still a Selfie by any other name?
and just what was it the liquid showed?
True colours or a distortion of reality?
The liquid went down his throat
well posting on Facebook or Instagram never tasted this good.
He lowered his hat
loosened his tie
opened his shirt
closed his eyes
and let his mind wander
down that lost boulevard of memories.
-A poem written by Christopher
Friday May 11th 2018.
Semi Rhyming Haiku About Poe’s The Pit and The Pendulum and Roger Corman Film With Vincent Price
Semi Rhyming Haiku About Poe’s The Pit and The Pendulum and Roger Corman Film With Vincent Price
Blade a real swinger
Will give your head a zinger
What a Price to pay
Reblog- Lizards and Wizards: A Poem
A poem I wrote 2 years ago.
Lizards and Wizards: A Poem
It was a land where giant tulip bulbs grew
that grew in soil blood drenched through and through
The bulbs blood red in colour
like the soil that bled the Earth-Mother
And eating the bulbs were huge flamingoes
not pink like on your lawn goes
but blood red like the seed of human sacrifice
when all other oblations no longer suffice
And rising rising from the blood soaked ground
in a huge puff of red tinged smoke that twirled round and round
arose a wild-haired wild eyed looking wizard
who in a test tube carried a small red lizard
He lifted up high his feathered wand
in the clouds emerged a land beyond
With his left hand he lifted high his trusted wand
and with his right, emptied the test tube like a martini shaker for Bond
The lizard then fell to the earth beneath
View original post 62 more words
Haiku About Winter Storm In Spring
Haiku About Winter Storm In Spring
Bitter cold chills skin
Wind howls as white snowflakes dance
Where is waltz of spring?
Diablotron: A Poem
Diablotron: A Poem
Cabin in the woods
trees and nature surround
Water springs and rivers flow nearby
Elves 🧝♀️ 🧝♂️ and fairies 🧚♀️ in the forest
Naiads (water nymphs) in the rivers, springs and waterfalls
Dryads (tree spirits) in the trees
Auditorium stage of a corporate techno giant
laboratories and machinery surround
Computers hum and robots move
Virtual reality in helmets and AI in cyborgs
Androids that look human
Humans becoming automatons
In the cabin the witch Astara in a long black dress
kneels in front of an altar
she holds a dagger
and waves a wand
and calls upon the Old Ones to return to earth
On the stage the scientist/salesman in a long white lab coat
waves to the audience
he holds a remote control
and pushes a button
and calls for New Gods
Transhuman and super-evolved
to arise
Astara burns roots and plants 🌱
and a dash of incense
Light flickers above the altar
a form appears
and then vanishes
Astara falls to the floor
The CEO/AI engineer directs stage lights
in the darkness
a form appears
a metallic robot
with a beating heart
and the presenter/host disappears
In the cabin
darkness
and an eerie silence
In the auditorium
spotlight on the cyborg
and applause and cheers from the audience
Astara looks up from the floor
at the vacant altar,
and whispers
in a quiet voice
Will you not come?
Will you not come?
The cyborg looks down from the stage
at the mesmerized audience
and booms
in synthetic metallic echo
DIABLOTRON is here
DIABLOTRON is here
Synthesis of the ancient and contemporary
The Old Ones are the New Ones
The New Ones are the Old Ones
After all the Ouroboros eats its own tail
And the Creator becomes the Destroyer
and the Destroyer becomes the Creator
-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday March 27th 2018.
Haiku About Stephen Hawking R.I.P.
Haiku About Stephen Hawking R.I.P.
Body was prison
But mind so great it was free
to explore cosmos
Jack O’ Hare Solves The Case of The Monkey’s Stolen Fur: A Poem
Jack O’ Hare Solves The Case of The Monkey’s Stolen Fur: A Poem
In the land of bunny rabbits, there was none so fair
as that female rabbit loved by Jack O’ Hare
And so as Jack hopped and then sat in the village square,
he sang, I love Jeannie, she’s a dark brown hare.
No one loves me, wept a red spider monkey
who sat next to a Russian riding a Democrat donkey
Why ever not? asked Jack O’ Hare
as he made faces at the Russian bear
Because I happen to be bald all over
no one will roll me over in the clover
Jack asked, What happened to your fur?
Someone stole it while I was at Big Sur
Jack queried, Any idea where it went?
The monkey said, No, it was stolen from my tent ⛺️
Do you have a pic of what it looked like?
Jack would be on the lookout for a red spider spike.
The monkey had a photo of himself with fur
It was a clear pic although Hillary was a blur
And later as Jack hopped into a Burger 🍔 King
to order a carrot 🥕 cake special along with onion ring
he saw a sight that made his heart sing
For there was the red spider monkey’s spider fur atop the head of a real ding-a-ling
The toupee wearing Donald Trump was meeting Kim Jong-un
when his hair piece was stolen by the Easter Bun
or so it was reported in the New York Times and Chicago Sun
Oh somewhere in this happy land
The red spider monkey was leading the band
for his fur had been returned- fur worth a lot of grand.
-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Monday March 12th
2018.
50 Years Ago Today: Martin Luther King Assassinated
April 4, 2018 at 9:34 pm (Commentary, Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, News, Poetry) (Martin Luther King Jr., Night of April 4th 1968, poem)
50 Years Ago Today: Martin Luther King Assassinated
50 Years Ago There Were Giants: A Poem
50 years ago, there were giants in the earth in those days
Martin Luther King who spoke of civil rights for all people, who believed in non-violence to achieve his goals, who spoke of a world where all God’s children were one, where the descendants of former slaves and the descendants of former slaveowners would play together and pray together and work together and live together in peace and harmony and brotherhood and justice for all,
he was a man who saw this,
the night before his death,
he spoke of his vision,
he had been to the mountaintop
and he had seen the Promised Land.
His eyes had seen the glory of the Coming of the Lord.
He had a Dream
and he saw that someday that dream would be reality.
50 years ago, there were giants in the Earth in those days
Robert F. Kennedy announced to a crowd in Indianapolis Indiana
the sad news of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s death
he spoke of Dr. King’s dream of love,
of a world where love triumphed over hate
and peace over violence
of not giving in to the desire for revenge
but rather bring together all people of good will
whatever their colour
that blacks should not hate whites
and whites should not hate blacks
of the world that Dr. King foresaw on the mountaintop
when he saw the Promised Land
that Promised Land
where people are not judged by the colour of their skin
but by the content of their character
50 years ago, there were giants in the Earth in those days
Will we ever see their like again?
Now 50 years later, one wonders
will we ever see their like again?
White kills black
Black kills white
Instead of building love in our hearts
we have leaders who tell us to build walls on our borders
Instead of uplifting and reconciling
we have nations described as shitholes by those in power
Instead of the inspiring words of the Promised Land as spoken of in the Bible
and the inspiring words of Aeschylus that Robert Kennedy mentioned in his speech
we have words of vulgarity spoken in angry tweets
Instead of words of reconciliation and seeking the best in all
We have words of division
that seek to bring out the worst in all
50 years ago, there were giants in the Earth in those days
Will we ever see their like again?
Judging people by the content of their character
instead of the colour of their skin
a dream that Martin saw.
Some men see things as they are and ask why?
Some men dream dreams that never were
and ask why not?
A question that Bobby posed.
The dream that Martin saw
seems to have disappeared in a dark aether of hate
The question that Bobby posed has been forgotten in a bluster of bickering voices
50 years ago, there were giants in the Earth in those days
Now dwarves whose hearts are full of hatred
whose words are full of spite and vitriol
and whose heads are full of ignorance calling itself knowledge
walk the land.
Who will lead us back to the mountaintop?
Who again will show us a vision of the Promised Land?
Who again will once again
Dream dreams that never were
and ask, Why not?
50 years ago, there were giants in the Earth in those days.
-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday April 4th 2018
on the 50th Anniversary
of the assassination
of the Rev. Dr.
Martin Luther King Jr.
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