Legend of The Ghost White Buffalo

February 16, 2020 at 11:49 pm (Folklore, Ghost Story, Poetry, The Supernatural) (, , , )

Legend of The Ghost White Buffalo

“Not far from here,” the wood nymph said, “the Ghost White Buffalo saved a herd of cattle.”

“Tell me this tale,” said the stranger.

And so the wood nymph did.

The legend of the Ghost White Buffalo is to be found here:

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2016/02/16/the-ghost-white-buffalo-a-poem/

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The Magician and The Illusion

February 7, 2020 at 11:24 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, magic, Poetry, Romance) ()

The Magician and The Illusion

The magician ended up with a black eye 
His illusion went astray
The audience saw right through him 
and one patron let him know there’s Hell to pay

But his loyal and sexy assistant remains at his side
Offering him arms of comfort
As at the back of a wagon they hitch a ride

And next to them the old carnival barker sits
His bark definitely worse than his bite
And this circus must plain hit the road out of people’s sight 

The road to Oz was much like this 
Behind the curtain lay smoke and mirrors 
But Kansas whirlwinds and melting witches 
Led to the worst of a wizard’s fears 

Sometimes magic acts fall apart 
Sometimes the illusion will not hold 
But when it does and grips a land
dark history will unfold

-A poem written by Christopher
Friday February 7th
2020.

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Waiting By The Sea

February 1, 2020 at 10:53 pm (Avatar Speaks, Folklore, Life, love, Poetry, Romance) ()

Waiting By The Sea

Waiting by the sea
waits she
The time has come
The seagulls call
She approaches the ocean’s thrall
By the waves she hears the sirens’ call 

The sirens call for the one 
whose heart is a match for hers
Bareback on horse she rode without spurs
Wild and free was she
Wild and free like the sea

For most, inclining one’s heart can lead to captivity 
But not for she
She whose heart is like the sea

The sirens know who to call 
The one who will just accept her for being she
She whose heart was wild and free
And pulsates like the rising sea.

-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday February 1st
2020

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Auschwitz: Where Death and Hate Embraced

January 27, 2020 at 11:28 pm (History, Horror, News, Poetry) (, , )

Auschwitz: Where Death and Hate Embraced

The outmost darkness lay behind 
gates that said Work makes you free
Orwellian newspeak before Orwell
even coined the term 
It was all a lie, a battle cry 
for ancient gods craving blood 
A race of übermensch 
that loved the stench 
of the flesh burning in fires 
in concrete pyres 
that reached the sky 

Skies were always gray here 
even when the sun shone up above
Clouds never dropped rain
But the ground soaked blood 
And the bones were food 
for a ravenous Fatherland 
that worshipped death 

Innocence was lost 
under hearts of frost 
Covered by coats of black 
and skull and bone lapels 
in a place under Hell’s dark spells
Marks the spot where pure Evil dwells 

Over a million lives were lost 
where Death always made a winning coin toss 
Off Death’s dark trains, then separate
Some to work, many more to die 
Mark the spot where angels cry 
And blackened smoke fills the sky

This was Hell 
Evil’s hotel 
Where men and women watched 
others die 
While smiling and laughing under Fuhrer’s eye

Some say that was in the past
where Satan’s furnaces had a blast
but when History is forgot
Death’s sinister X marks the spot 

-A poem written by Christopher
Monday January 27th
2020
The 75th Anniversary 
of the liberation of Auschwitz 
in Oswiecim Poland

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Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made Of

January 13, 2020 at 11:55 pm (Fantasy, Folklore, Poetry, Romance, Short Story) (, , , )

Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made Of

Walking through the large prairie museum
There was an authentic old steam train 
He went and climbed aboard 
And sat in one of the carriages 
Imagining he was travelling somewhere

Imagine his shock when the engine smoked,
The bell rang
And the conductor cried “All aboard”
And the train started moving

Not out of the museum 
On to the surrounding prairie
Instead the train travelled through the Swiss Alps
The man walked through the train 
And standing on the platform on one of the carriages 
was a beautiful dark haired woman 
Wearing a warrior’s breasted arm plate 
And a pleated black skirt 
And playing a cello 

The woman jumped off the train 
And the man was pushed 
And the man found himself in a dark wintry forest with falling snow 
And there was the same woman wearing a long flowing white dress
And blowing snow flowed through her long waving hair 
And she was still playing the cello

Soon the man found himself in an Italian Renaissance palace drawing room 
And on a lounge chair
(The same sort of chair on which Napoleon Bonaparte’s sister Pauline Borghese in the sculpture Venus Victrix by Antonio Canova had posed nude)
sat the same long haired woman
Now wearing a long elegant flowing red evening dress gown 
And still playing the cello
Behind her was a statue of the Greek goddess Aphrodite appearing to the right of the lounge chair
And appearing to the left 
was a dresser table
On which stood a statue of Saint Michael the Archangel triumphing over the Devil
And to the right of that statue 
also on the dresser was a human skull

The man soon found himself on a sunny sandy beach
And the same woman approached him
Now she was wearing a beautiful elegant yellow dress on which on the front was emblazoned a beautiful gorgeous looking fiery red Phoenix
The woman did not have her cello with her 
She approached the man
And then the Phoenix came alive 
And flew up from the front of her dress
And flew into the sky 
And thence into the distant horizon
Then the cello appeared in her hands 
And she once again began playing

Now the man found himself under water 
In a underwater palace
And there was the woman
in a white dress swimming 

But she had no cello with her

Then the man found himself in the arm chair of the fireplace room
In the house in which he lived

Shakespeare had once said, We are such stuff as dreams are made of 
Recalling that, the man mused that at least he was made of unique and unusual stuff.

-A poem and short story 
written by Christopher
Monday January 13th
2020.

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Ukraine International Airlines Flight 752

January 8, 2020 at 11:57 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Poetry, Tragedy) (, , )

Ukraine International Airlines Flight 752

Pictures speak a thousand words 
A child’s toy stares up at one from the ground 
not far from Tehran
A plush elephant with happy smiling face
And arms open wide ready to hug

Its owner a small child
Who now lies somewhere among the rubble and debris 
that was Ukraine International Airlines Flight 752
from Tehran to Kiev
A Boeing 737 Model 800

176 lives lost 
A bride and groom married in Tehran on New Year’s Day
beginning a journey back to their home in Canada
only to return to soil 
not far from their place of wedding nuptials 
Wedding joy now to be replaced by mourning at funerals 

Another couple husband and wife 
Both professors and their two lovely daughters 
The youngest said to be very inquisitive 
And who only recently began playing soccer 

She’d always ask, a tearful coach now tells reporters,
Why do we have to do this exercise, coach?
Will it help us win?
Will it help us get better at playing?

A voice full of curiosity 
That now will no longer be heard 
in the spring 
When birds chirp 
And the soccer ball is dropped on green grass
And one player will be missing from the team.

A woman doctor 
And her two teen daughters 
She brought experience and knowledge to her patients
They brought smiles and joy to classmates 
And now both a doctor’s office 
And a classroom will feel a lot emptier

A man has lost a sister
And parents have lost a son
And so so many have lost friends
And loved ones.

The spectre of death has raised his hand so many times in this region of the world 
Through war and conflict 
and clash of titanic egos

But that is not enough to satisfy death
A country’s leadership vows vengeance for a general slain
And another country’s leader gives a press conference in which he proclaims Victory and says peace is available to those willing to capitulate to him

But those huge egos that are the handmaidens of death 
are still not enough to satisfy that scythe wielding spectre’s appetite

He must on his own reach out a giant spectral hand 
And pull a plane down from the sky 
176 lives lost
A newly wed couple 
An entire family 
A brother 
A sister 
A son

The hand of death will create a ripple effect across the world
A voice that will no longer be heard
A smile that will no longer be seen 
An empty chair forever empty 
A locker with contents to be emptied
but not by the locker’s owner.

A child’s toy 
A plush elephant with happy smiling face 
And arms open wide ready to hug
And its owner no longer around to receive it.

-A poem written by Christopher
Wednesday January 8th
2020.

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Ponderings: Ghost In The City? Or A City of Ghosts?

January 2, 2020 at 11:21 pm (Commentary, Ghost Story, Poetry, Short Story) ()

Ponderings: Ghost In The City?
Or A City of Ghosts?

As she walked city streets, 
she wondered,
was she a ghost walking in a city?

Or was she a mortal 
walking in a city of ghosts?

-A poem written by Christopher
Thursday January 2nd
2020.

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Christmas Sweater

December 22, 2019 at 11:31 pm (Christmas, Culture, Folklore, Humour, Poetry) (, , )

Christmas Sweater

And so one might ask, who and what did Santa Claus ride
Back in the day of the dinosaurs’ stride?
And now thanks to Christmas sweaters, it can be revealed 
You can wear the sweater while, on the topic, keeping your lips sealed.

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday December 22nd
2019.

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Frosty Snowman and Teddy Bear

December 15, 2019 at 10:58 pm (Blogroll, Celebrities, Children's Story, Christmas, Comedy, Humour, Poetry) (, , , , , , , )

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.

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Artemis: Goddess of The Hunt

October 14, 2019 at 9:25 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Poetry, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , )

Artemis: Goddess of The Hunt

A whisper in the wind 
A rustle in the trees 
A mid-October autumn
A point between 
the September Indian Summer
and the cold winds of Samhain
In early November

The land waits in anticipation
A hunter’s moon last evening
And soon the hunter will appear

It is Artemis the goddess of the hunt 
Who stands at the door
For the hunt this side of autumn
Will be a hunt like no other

-A poem and vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Monday October 14th
2019.

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