Michelangelo’s Dream of Bogey and Bacall
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a dream where he was playing Humphrey Bogart’s character of Philip Marlowe and having an encounter with Lauren Bacall.
After waking up, he decided to write a narrative poem about his dream.
He went over to his waterproof laptop to start writing but then decided to use his recently bought old vintage Underwood typewriter that had been custom refurbished to work underwater.
Grabbing some waterproof sheets of paper, he inserted them into his waterproof old vintage Underwood typewriter and started typing the poem.
Bogey and Bacall: Philip Marlowe’s Right On The Ball
A narrative poem
By Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster
Narrated in the First Person
By Philip Marlowe
(As played by Humphrey Bogart)
So I had come home after a hard day on the case
Rather difficult to try to sleep on a case of bourbon
I did do some work on that other case
Trying to find Max Spellbein’s younger daughter
Where do younger daughters hang out these days anyways?
I went down to Frankie’s Jazz Cafe
The Pink Flamingo Lounge
And even The Silverstar Nightclub
Nothing.
No sign of her.
I even went down to the bus depot and the shipyard
Her ship must have sailed when my bus came in
Does that make any sense?
Probably not.
Difficult to make sense
When one’s mind is adrift
In a sea of bourbon.
I lit a cigarette
Put it in my mouth
And made a silent prayer
That this combination of alcohol and flame
Didn’t send me up like a rocket on New Year’s Eve.
I thought I heard piano music coming from my piano
Which was strange
I rarely play the piano these days
Not since I got my fingers caught in that mousetrap
Under the altar of Saint Ignatius’ Church
When I said to the good priest,
“Pray it again, Sam.”
After sitting in my chair
Looking up at the ceiling
And watching the paint dry
It suddenly hit me
That I hadn’t painted this place in ages
So there was no drying paint to watch
That was definitely music I was hearing
So either someone was playing the piano
Or the angels were calling me
So I walked into the piano room
And there at the piano
Sat Max Spellbein’s elder daughter
Lauren Bacall: Playing the piano and singing, “When smoke gets in your eyes…”
I stood there
Inhaled the air from the open window
And realized I wouldn’t be spending the night alone.
-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 27th
2021.
Wilkie The Cat 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.
Morrigan In Cornwall
Morrigan In Cornwall
Along the cliffs she walked
While a raven flew by
Morrigan the Irish Celtic goddess of war
Beneath where she walked was the surging tide
watery grave of many a sailor that died
Behind her was wood of ancient fallen tree
Cast over these cliffs in storm that shattered tranquility
These were the shores of Cornwall wild
where wild desolate moors and cliffs of smugglers’ coves beguiled
Not far from here was the Arthurian legend born
A brief ray of hope in a land forlorn
Far far north of here were the mists of Avalon
Where the Arthurian sun set after Arthur was gone
Now this land along with the world was pandemic bound
So here far from eerie silence of death was bird cry and raging surf sound
Like many immortals from ancient pantheons Morrigan returned to walk the earth
when guns of August 1914 heralded a bloody rebirth
A century of war
and blood galore
Fascism, Nazism and Communism
A three headed cobra with deadly fangs it bore
Never far from human hearts the poison surged to the planet’s very core
And now Mother Earth itself was filled with hate
A virus arose of deadly destiny and most fatal of fate
Floods and cyclones now arose in the midst of May
Were earthquakes now on the way neath skies so gray?
And war itself may not be far behind
That fiery red horse so insidiously unkind
Ares was still stomping his feet
waiting for Morrigan to pick up the beat
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 21st
2020.
The Inspector and The Baker’s Daughter
The Inspector and The Baker’s Daughter
“Are you looking for something, Inspector?” The girl asked him.
A day began like any other for the Inspector
Yet no ordinary day
These are no ordinary times
Covid-19 pandemic in world.
2 days ago police in Beijing
arrested a professor
Chen Zhaozhi
Former professor at the Beijing University of Science and Technology
for calling Covid-19
The Chinese Communist Party Virus
But Beijing’s arrest did not concern the French police detective
What concerned the Paris police detective was a matter that concerned
The Paris Grand Orient Lodge
For British MP Renfield R. Renfield
had sent a confidential report today
to a French and European politician
The Kraken who called himself Napoleon VI
The leader of the French Aquarian Age Bonapartist Party
French President Macron had ordered surveillance of the Kraken’s
emails and text messages
And today Renfield had sent the Kraken
a confidential report
which was said to be from Five Eyes
The joint intelligence service of the U.S., Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom
The report claimed that the Covid-19 virus
Was indeed a virus that had accidentally escaped from the Wuhan Institute of Virology
At an emergency meeting of the Grand Orient Lodge
Isis, Osiris and Horus
demanded to know
whether the Renfield report
was an actual copy of a Five Eyes
Intelligence Report
or whether the whole report was a
piece of Renfieldian disinformation
designed to prevent Emmanuel Macron
from ordering take out deliveries of Chinese food in Paris
A person that the Paris Police Inspector
thought might know
was Marmalade Montague
a baker and a man
from whom the Kraken bought
his croissant rolls and Chinese hot steamed buns
The Paris inspector himself used to buy his cinnamon buns from Marmalade Montague
Montague had recently been thrown out of his bakery
for lack of payment of rent
due to decline in business
during the Paris Covid-19 lockdown
However the inspector decided to visit Montague’s apartment
Perhaps the baker still lived there
As the building’s landlord had died
from the Covid-19 virus and his estate was still up in the air
The Inspector entered the apartment
As he passed by the kitchen, he noticed hot cinnamon buns lying on the counter
So the inspector stopped and ate one
He ended up eating all 6 dozen.
The Inspector received a text message on his smart phone
saying that Marmalade Montague kept poison in his bathroom medicine cabinet.
He went to check out the medicine cabinet
The bathroom door was still open
And that’s when the Inspector noticed Marmalade Montague’s lovely daughter Irene
sitting in a chair
in a corner of the living room
“Are you looking for something, Inspector?” The girl asked him.
“I was told your father kept poison in his medicine cabinet,” the inspector replied.
“He did but it’s no longer there,” Irene told him.
“Where is it?” The inspector asked.
“I added it to my dad’s recipe for his famous cinnamon buns that I left on the kitchen counter,” Irene answered.
The Inspector never did show up to that evening’s non-social distancing meeting of the Grand Orient Lodge.
A copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s short story Murders In The Rue Morgue was sent to the meeting
with a notation on the page
before the title page
that this was where the Inspector was to be found.
-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday May 6th
2020.
Marmalade Montague: Birth of A Legend
Marmalade Montague: Birth of A Legend
In a bakery in Paris
were posters of the mummy Kharis
Who appeared in 1940s mummy movies
“Cause Imhotep wasn’t of the jazz Swing era groovies”
The bakery was owned by Marmalade Montague
At the end of the street or in French “la rue”
Marmalade was an eccentric gent
And because of the Covid-19 lockdown couldn’t pay the rent
So into the gutter he was thrown
Getting up, he made a moan
Inside Marmalade something snapped
opening up a genius untapped
So into the Paris catacombs he descended
and ran past ancient pipes all upended
When he emerged again
he carried a hen
and wore a silver wig
while his lips munched upon a fig
He was dressed from head to toe in Louis XIV era attire
So it was a good thing that his pants weren’t on fire
He proclaimed to empty streets
devoid of all and no words of greets
“I am Marmalade Montague court scientist to the Court of Louis Quatorze”
“So I say to you, Paris, open your doors”
But no doors opened and Marmalade Montague went back to the catacombs
A world of poor reception for many smart phones
For Marmalade Montague had gone mad
If he had any friends, they might have felt sad
But as it was Marmalade had gone from good to bad.
And on this April day a legend was born
In a world that was by a virus torn
No Sacrifice of the Mass was being said
Masons hoped to make of Notre Dame a temple of lead
And in Rome, the ex-Vicar of Christ was flaming Bolshevik red
Marmalade Montague had ceased to be a baker
In his mind he had become a Louis Quatorze court alchemist faker
And the world would never again be the same
Although the mainstream media would continue to be lame.
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 21st 2020.
Reblog of The Sun Dog That Ate A Hot Dog: A Poem
A humourous poem I wrote 5 years ago today.
The Sun Dog That Ate A Hot Dog: A Poem
Cornelius was leading a dog’s life
because he was free of kids and wife
He also happened to be a dog
one not mistaken for a bump on a log
a huge Saint Bernard
who escaped his master’s yard
and then headed off to the beach
lucky for him within reach.
What brought him to this date with destiny
aside from the outdoor trees looking thirsty
was listening to the spiel of a TV documentary
that spoke in language not elementary
“A sun dog is an atmospheric phenomenon that creates bright spots of light in the sky”
oh to listen to such drivel Corn thought he would die
“often on a luminous ring or halo on either side of the sun”
that does it, Corn thought, he’d really have to run
out the door he went
past the little pup…
View original post 311 more words
Return To Field of Dreams
Return To Field of Dreams
Marcus Shimbiro had a dream
When as an 8-year-old boy
he left his native Kenya
For the U.S.
He wanted to become a baseball player someday
He did excel at sports and particularly at baseball
In high school, he was hitting home runs
The same way he downed ice cream cones
with a vengeance
But then came that fateful day
He fell off his neighbour’s roof
While helping him paint it
And broke his arm and his leg
His arm and leg eventually healed of course
But he was not the same player ever again
He could no longer run
Or hit a home run.
Angry and bitter a few weeks before graduation
He borrowed a friend’s car and headed for Iowa
Why Iowa?
Because it was the home state of the Field of Dreams
That famous 1989 sports fantasy movie with Kevin Costner and James Earl Jones
About the Iowa corn farmer who plows part of his corn field
To build a baseball field
A field on which Shoeless Joe Jackson
And 7 other famous 1919 Chicago Black Sox players play
On that field in which Shoeless Joe and 7 others played
Was a player named Archibald “Moonlight” Graham
Who played one game for the New York Giants in 1905
but never had a turn at bat
Corn farmer Ray Kinsella (Costner)
and author/writer Terrence Mann (Jones) drive to Minnesota
Where they learn that Graham was a physician who had died years earlier
During a late night walk, Ray finds himself transported back to 1972
Where he encounters the elderly Graham (Burt Lancaster) who says he left baseball for a satisfying medical career
During the drive back to Iowa,
Ray picks up a young hitchhiker who introduces himself as Archie Graham
and says he wants to be a baseball player
Eventually, Graham gets the chance to play baseball with Shoeless Joe and other baseball greats in the Field of Dreams
But at a critical point in the game, Graham leaves the field of dreams
To administer emergency medical aid
Graham makes his choice
To be a doctor after all.
And now Marcus Shimbiro torn with rage at having his dreams dashed
Was trying to find this Field of Dreams of film-lore
To play baseball
Or at least find out what he was to do with his life
It was nighttime
and as he drove by a corn field
He was shocked to see baseball players playing ball in the field
He pulled in
And sat with the other spectators
And watched the greats of baseball play the game
Shoeless Joe Jackson, Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio and many others
He was shocked to discover Dr. Archibald Graham sitting next to him
offering him a hot dog and a coke
“Too bad about your fall, Marcus,” Graham remarked as he ate his own hot dog.
“It is,” Marcus frowned, “it’s not as if I could be a doctor like you not having baseball to fall back on.”
“Who says you can’t be a doctor?” Graham looked at him.
“I don’t have the marks or the aptitude for it,” Marcus answered.
“But you are good at observation and analysis and above all, perseverance, you may not get flying colours right away but with your observation and analysis and perseverance, you might spot something others have missed and that might make all the difference in the world someday,” Dr. Graham noted, “Ever hear the fable of the tortoise and the hare? The tortoise won the race in the end.”
“But that’s just a fable and a fairy tale,” Marcus pointed out, “That doesn’t happen in the real world. Most of the time, it’s the hare that wins and not the tortoise.”
“Most of the time that’s true, Marcus,” Graham agreed, “But often it’s at the most critical junctions in the world and in history that the tortoise wins the race. And at such times, the hare is usually not a foe but a friend. And it usually turns out to be one race where the hare was happy to see the tortoise win.”
Marcus looked at Graham.
He wasn’t quite sure what Graham meant by those words but somehow deep down inside himself, he felt they were important.
“So, do you think I should go into medicine?” Marcus asked.
“I do, Marcus, I do,” the elderly doctor patted him on the shoulder.
And seconds later, Dr. Graham, the players, the spectators and the baseball field were gone.
And all that was left…
… Was an empty corn field.
Marcus Shimbiro went into science and into medicine.
He didn’t always get the best marks.
But he studied hard and learned from his mistakes.
And developed a profound sense of analysis and insight.
He didn’t think he was good enough to treat patients but he went into research.
Using his memory and his insight and analysis in that line of work.
And then one day in the year 2020,
analyzing data and keeping track of things he and his numerous colleagues all over the world were doing,
Dr. Marcus Shimbiro discovered…
…. the vaccine for the Covid-19 Coronavirus.
We can all dream, can’t we?
And hope… is the knowledge that sometimes dreams can become reality.
-A narrative poem written by Christopher
Wednesday April 8th 2020.
Reblog of Ghost Ship: The Flying Dutchman Sails On and On
A supernatural narrative poem and vampire novel chapter I wrote over a year and 3 months ago:
On a moonlit night the sky’s spotlight
casts its rays down on tonight’s performer
a sailing ship rising out of the mist
in a globe theatre where sea and sky do meet
From underneath the water Poseidon’s hand
seems to rise from below the depths
lifting the old Dutchman like a pearl of great price
as an offering and a gift to Diana’s lantern in the night sky
Oh ship of mighty oak and sturdy deck and towering masts
what a price thou hast paid
for having for a master one Captain Hendrick Van der Decken
He who would make league and sup with the Devil
to have the fastest ship that would sail to the East Indies and back
And so there at the Cape of Good Hope
ship, master and crew would lose all hope
as Captain Hendrick stood on deck at the wheel
and cursed the wind…
View original post 673 more words
Frosty Snowman and Teddy Bear
Frosty Snowman and Teddy Bear
Amadeus Emanon had been invited to sing an original song for the Christmas concert at Saint Genevieve’s Church which he attended.
“Do you know what he’s going to sing?” Angelique Dumont asked Amadeus’ friend Renfield R. Renfield as they sat in the pews.
“No, I don’t,” Renfield replied.
Amadeus began his introduction to the song, “When I’ve been out walking in my neighbourhood in the evening for the past couple of weeks to look at the Christmas lights, one of the houses I’ve noticed has a sparkling Frosty the Snowman lit up with some sparkling snow flakes. Next to Frosty is a teddy bear that’s carrying a large nicely wrapped Christmas present. It too is lit up. So I’ve written a song about Frosty Snowman and Teddy Bear.”
Amadeus began his song,
“Frosty Snowman, Frosty Snowman,
he is cooler than a ceiling fan,
he’s made of snow
from head to toe
and his carrot nose
has that certain glow.
With buttons for eyes
that hypnotize
his charcoal mouth has never tasted fries
He wears a scarf and several school ties
He smokes a pipe under moonlit skies.
As for Teddy, he’s always ready
to help you bear the unbearable
And though you think his Christmas sweater is unwearable
He wears it just the same
His excuse may be lame
And his pic won’t adorn a frame
But being unique is his game.
He holds a gift nicely wrapped
He looks so fresh having recently napped
He waves hello
With places to go
He’ll wave good-bye
But please don’t cry
He will be back
carrying Santa’s sack.
Frosty Snowman, Teddy Bear
As you see, they’ve got real flair
Come Christmas Eve, you’ll see they care
And please hang your stockings by the chimney somewhere
And please don’t mock Santa’s extra large suit he’ll wear
For he ate too much Mrs. Claus’ cookies on a dare.
-A song, poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday December 15th
2019.
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) (narrative poem, poem, Samuel Puddlington, The Duck Called Samuel Puddlington, The Wax Museum, Vincent Price)
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.
Permalink 2 Comments