Legend of The Ghost White Buffalo
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/
Waiting By The Sea
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
Auschwitz: Where Death and Hate Embraced
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
Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made Of
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.
Ukraine International Airlines Flight 752
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.
Ponderings: Ghost In The City? Or A City of Ghosts?
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.
Christmas Sweater
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.
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.
Artemis: Goddess of The Hunt
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.
The Magician and The Illusion
February 7, 2020 at 11:24 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, magic, Poetry, Romance) (poem)
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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