Musical Instruments, Hazardous Vegetables, Amazon Rainforest and The Russian Spy Beluga Whale Defector

August 23, 2019 at 9:57 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, Humour, International Intrigue, News, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Musical Instruments, Hazardous Vegetables, Amazon Rainforest and The Russian Spy Beluga Whale Defector

British MP Renfield R. Renfield asked his friend Amadeus Emanon, “Did you hear what happened to the saxophonist who played his musical instrument so badly?”.

“No,” Amadeus shook his head.

“He became a registered sax offender,” Renfield replied.

Amadeus buried his head in his hands.

Meanwhile down at the Set Enterprises aquarium, Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was having a vision of Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro wearing a long Roman toga, a crown of laurel wreath in his hair (much like that worn by the Emperor Nero) and holding in his hands a violin which he was playing badly as the Amazon rainforests burned.

Meanwhile in the waters off the coast of Norway, tragedy struck the Russian spy beluga whale defector who had recently defected to the Norwegians with the help of the ghost of Orson Welles.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 23rd
2019.

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Accordion Player On The Beach

July 21, 2013 at 4:51 pm (Poetry) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Accordion player on the beach
The beach has a crowd
but no one listens
The music he plays is good
And has melody
but he plays to no one there.

No one stands in front or around him
like they do other buskers on the beach.
He plays the accordion like a master
But it seems this world no longer has a place for master accordionists.

He finishes his tune
and is greeted with the sounds of silence.
He puts away his accordion 
and heads home.
No one notices.
No one cares.

In the trenches of World War I
the soldiers listened to the accordion player
offering a sweet melody and hope 
amidst the rumble of big guns
and the sounds of Hell.

“Oh let every good fellow now join in a song,
viva le pompier
Viva la viva viva l’amour…”

Long live love
they sing in French
to the accompaniment of accordion.
Long live love
they sing against the background of war.

Here on the beach
is sand not mud.
Here they lie in the sun
instead of huddled down
in the rain.
Here they cling to their iPods
and not to their guns.
Here are the sound of waves pounding the shore
and not the sound of guns pounding human flesh.

To every thing there is a season
and a time for every purpose under Heaven.
The accordion was an instrument that brought melody and hope
to those trapped in the midst 
of a great and terrible war.

No one listened to the accordionist 
on the beach last night.
But at least they weren’t listening to the sound of guns.

Everything has its give and take.

The guns are silent.
The accordion is now silent.

And on the beach other buskers prosper.
The rapper who sings crap.
The crapper who can’t rap.

So still the white dove sails
wondering where to rest in the sand
and the voice of the turtle is yet to be heard in the land.

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday July 21st 2013.

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