Jack O' Hare On Halloween

Jack O' Hare On Halloween

Jack O' Hare on Halloween
found on the ground a jelly bean
dropped by a goblin small
or a green giant tall.

Lots of strange creatures on this night!
Some enough to give you a fright!
Going from door to door
but it seemed to be no chore
to these little ones shouting "Trick or treat!".
Jack thought it quite neat.

Then after 9 the little ones went home
and after throwing the dog a bone
proceeded to eat their treat
and bobbed for apples with their feet.

But outside in the night so dark
was heard the cry of a lark
what omen was this
putting an end to bliss.

Childish games had now come to an end
Jack O' Hare wished for a friend
a wolfish howl
a screaching owl
zombies prowl.

Real vampires now roamed the earth
Hecate's hags were giving birth
and in the darkened sky a light
held by Zeus who looked a fright
this Greek god held dark countenance
as he rumbled world's continents.

Outside the celestial door
stood the Norse god Thor
He looked at Zeus
and Zeus at him
this Norse god that worked the gym.

Thor's hammers hit the Earth's poles
while Zeus shook the grassy knolls
these gods of old
had risen bold.

Modern children's tales made them seem nice
but now to Earth what havoc hair gets from lice
these old gods will now do to the world
and wreak havoc hitherto unfurled.

Zeus his lust and Thor his brawn
while Pan rises from a spring in Lebanon
and plays on his pan pipes a haunting tune
harking an apocalypse soon.

Moloch's furnaces rise again
grinning bull face so insane
fire falls instead of rain.

Many had shouted in this age
with all manner of sporadic rage
that Jesus Christ would have to go
and if He has,
then why all this current woe?

Nietzsche had written, "It's Christ vs. Dionysus
Don't you understand?".
Indeed grinned the 3-piece demon band.
Dionysus was their leader
Hades the bottom feeder
followed by a serpent seeder.

Jack O' Hare liked not what he saw
as he watched and licked his paw
then he turned and hopped away
wanting this All Hallow's Eve
to turn to All Saints' Day.


Jack O' Hare On Halloween
-a poem written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Sunday, October 31st 2010

The Bunny Hare Picture Show Doing The Time Warp Again

So today I saw Jack O' Hare the wild hare jack rabbit who lives in the neighbourhood and occasionally visits my back yard.

I haven't seen him in several weeks.

I noticed he's now turned completely white to match the snowfall that fell here a couple of days ago.

So in honour of seeing Jack O' Hare and since they're performing excerpts from The Rocky Horror Picture Show on Glee tonight, here's Jack O' Hare singing his version of The Time Warp entitled The Bunny Hop.

The Bunny Hop (to the tune of The Time Warp from The Rocky Horror Picture Show)

It's astounding, my ears are big
Listening takes its toll,
But listen closely, I'm gonna hop around
and lose all control.

I remember doing the bunny hop
Eating those carrots when
The diarrhea would hit me and the fan would be calling...
Let's do the Bunny Hop again...
Let's do the Bunny Hop again...

It's just a hop to the left
and then a hop to the right
With your ears sticking up
You hold your whiskers tight
But it's landing your little tail that gives you pain
Let's do the Bunny Hop again.

It's so creamy, broccoli feed me
in winter can you see me, no not at all
in another dimension, my vegetarian intention
turns to carnivore free fall
and when your beef patties flop
I'm doing the Bunny Hop
and nothing can ever be the same
I'll eat your Big Mac sensation while you're under sedation
Let's do the Bunny Hop again.

When I was walking down the street with my ears so pink
up popped a fox disguised as a shrink
He looked me up, took me by surprise
He had a laydown couch and Burger King fries
He psychoanalyzed me and I felt a change
meat meant nothing, never would again
Let's do the Bunny Hop again.

-Jack O' Hare singing The Bunny Hop
a musical number written by
Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Tuesday, October 26th, 2010.

Dreams of the South Pacific

Lines of palm trees
on silver seas
tinged with an aromatic breeze
the stars they quiver
by pale moon's sliver
and coconuts dance in the breeze
a ballroom of exotic trees
the fireflies they are aglow
and fishes jump for joy you know.


-A poem written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Tuesday, October 19th, 2010

The Wicked Witch of the East Must Die!

In the annals of evil
and cosmic upheaval
Jack O' Hare was aware
of a very evil being
you'd go blind upon seeing
her heart was black
a walking rat.

There are good witches and bad witches
and those that emerge from shit of bitches
This evil witch was one such
devoid of divine touch
infernal through and through
she smelled like rat pooh.

This was the Wicked Witch of the East
but in evil she was not least.

East of the point where Jack stood
was this evil crone with cape and hood
the world turned to hate
because of her wretched gait
as she walked
and talked
but squawked.

For no human voice had she
this ugly horrid banshee
From the depths of Hell she came
to cause all she touched pain.

But Jack had had enough of this witch infernal
she must be sent to Hell eternal
and as he munched on corned beef and rye
with his big bunny ears held so high
Jack resolved
this Wicked Witch must die.

To be continued.

This being Part One of a neo-Miltonian neo-Homeric epic poem
written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
on this day Monday, October 18th, 2010.

Sherlock Holmes and The Headless Horseman of The Yorkshire Moors

"You've seemed distressed the past few days, Holmes," Doctor Watson observed, "what's up?".

"It's these damn hemorrhoids, Watson," Holmes adjusted the pillow on his chair, "I didn't realize they could be such a pain in the ass."

"Hemorrhoids have always been that, Holmes," Watson remarked.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

"I believe we have a visitor, Watson," Holmes lit his pipe.

"Brilliant deduction, Holmes," Watson smiled.

"Thank you, Watson," Holmes smiled.

Dr. Watson got up and answered the door.

Standing there was a man without a head.

In one hand, he held a ventriloquist's dummy.

"Pardon me," the dummy said, "but I appear to have lost my head. If it wasn't for this ventriloquist's dummy I found, I'd have a next to impossible time trying to communicate with people."

"How did you lose your head?" Holmes piped up.

"I lost it during the English Civil War," the spectral headless figure replied through the ventriloquist's dummy.

"That wasn't very civil of someone to cut your head off," Holmes put his pipe down.

"No, it wasn't," the spectral figure agreed, "but I found a pumpkin as a replacement. I've roamed the Yorkshire Moors with it through centuries on my horse. You may have heard of me, the Headless Horseman of the Yorkshire Moors?".

"I'm afraid I haven't," Holmes confessed.

"It's that damn Hessian cavalryman who lost his head during the American Revolutionary War," the spectre shook his non-existent head, "he gets all the press. The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. Thanks to Washington Irving, he gets all the glory. I wish I had a better PR agent."

"What's a PR agent?" Doctor Watson blew his nose.

"Public Relations, Watson," Holmes started tapping his fingers impatiently, "I suppose you'd like me to find your pumpkin head for you?".

"Yes, please," the spectre smiled through the ventriloquist's dummy.

"I once knew a lady of the evening who wanted to find her lost maiden head," Watson quipped.

"Yes, well we won't get into that now, Watson," Holmes grabbed his coat, his deerstalker cap and his walking stick and headed out the door, "Come Watson. The game's afoot."

"That's funny," Watson grinned, "I thought it was a head."


* * *

Dr. Watson sported a large nasty bump on the head after Holmes hit him with his walking stick for telling such an atrocious pun.

Watson was stopped by a French police bobby who was over here on a Paris-London Police Exchange program, "Pardon me, monsieur but that's quite a nasty boomp you have on your head."

"So I've noticed," Watson nodded.

"Great Scott, Watson," Holmes suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Are you talking about that man standing over there in a kilt with a huge erection?" Watson queried.

"No, Watson," Holmes pointed to a sight in the window, "do you see in the window there? It's a jack o' lantern- a pumpkin bearing the carved initials HHOTYM- Headless Horseman of the Yorkshire Moors."

Holmes and Watson knocked on the door of the house with the jack o' lantern in the window.

The door opened.

"Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson," a cockney voice greeted them, "what are you doing here?".

"Lestrade, you total ass," Holmes wagged his finger at the Scotland Yard police inspector, "what are you doing with the Headless Horseman's head?".

"The 'Eadless 'Orseman's 'Ead?" Lestrade frowned, "what are you babbling about, Mr. Holmes? Are you drunk?".

"Drunk with the fount of knowledge, yes," Holmes rubbed his hands together, "for we have found the Headless Horseman's Head."

Lestrade had bought the head from a used pumpkin salesman.

Lestrade swore he'd never buy from a used pumpkin salesman again.

And so the Headless Horseman of the Yorkshire Moors got his head back.

The ventriloquist's dummy was elected to a seat in Parliament.

And Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson lived happily ever after.

That is until the next time someone else called upon them at their haunts at 221B Baker Street, London.


* * *

A Sherlock Holmes short short story for Hallowe'en
written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Sunday, October 17th 2010.

Jack O' Hare Visits Shangri La

Far far away near the top of the world
where peaks pierce clouds with the heavens unfurled
lies that beautiful land known as Nepal
and somewhere in its valleys does dwell
a mythical place Shangri La
Immortality's last hurrah.

As least so was told Jack O'Hare
by a girl without underwear
"Thanks Lady Gaga"
as she danced the Ra-ra
an Egyptian sun god dance
she learned in France
with Sarkozy a bulge in his pants.

So while Monsieur Le Presidente has some explaining to do
to wife Carla Bruni and mistress Frou Frou La Rue
Jack went for a long hop or two
till he reached the gates called Tamaru
where stood the gatekeeper Mu.

Said Jack, "I've hopped far
it's quite bizarre
for I have fled a strange French menage a trois
and now I ask, is this Shangri-La?".

"Indeed, indeed," the gatekeeper said
and offered Jack some Shangri-lese bread.
Jack ate and said, "it's very good
Now I'd like to enter if I could."

"You're not ready, Jack,
you must go back,
immortality is not for all
The reason- Adam's Fall
for if one eats with sin's effects still lingering
Paradise itself becomes Hell's tinkering.
Paradise is nice
but one must accept the price."

"The price?...
possibly rice?"
But Mu shook his head and pointed up
towards a very bitter cup
in these mountains high the kingdoms of the world were shown
in an instant where no trumpets were blown
but a Man said no and had to drink from a bitter cup
this He did- as His Cross was lifted up.

Jack decided he better hop far and away
for he knew that for eternal life
that was free from strife
there was a price One had to pay.


-A poem written by Dracul Van Helsing
Tuesday, October 5th 2010.

Jack O' Hare Meets Saint Francis of Assisi

+October 4th is the date of the day
while Jack O' Hare hopped away
Today is the Feast Day of Saint Francis of Assisi
and Jack stopped to eat a fresh Kiwi
Someone from New Zealand has been around
and left this kiwi on the ground.
Jack stopped in front of Saint Francis' statue
and said, This is not Saint Matthew.
No it's Saint Francis Patron Saint of Animals
and not Hannibal O' Hare worst of the cannibals.
In this grotto of blue and white
serving as a place full of light
a Saint George had built this lovely place
where daily Jack will begin his race
and Saint Christopher added to this place so fair
a statue of Francis with his head bald and bare
here birds and animals gather
to be with this saint rather
than be elsewhere
ditto- Jack O' Hare!


-A poem written by Dracul Van Helsing
On the Feast Day of Saint Francis of Assisi
October 4th 2010.

Note: The grotto was built in my back yard by my dad George. Who built it modelled on the temple grottoes he saw in Greece when he visited there back in 1991. Last year for Father's Day 2009 I bought my dad a 3 foot concrete statue of St. Francis of Assisi- one of my dad's favourite saints. This statue was put in the grotto. Saint Francis of Assisi is the Patron Saint of Animals and I've often observed birds and squirrels and also Jack O' Hare pause and seemingly meditate in front of Saint Francis' statue as if they can sense Saint Francis' presence there- something of which we humans are unaware.

A Poem For Uncle Louis' 80th Birthday

Today was Uncle Louis' 80th birthday.

Uncle Louis is the singing waiter at the Blue Willow Restaurant- the restaurant where my dad and I used to have dinner every Saturday night.

Uncle Louis is the man in charge of singing Happy Birthday to all the customers at the restaurant who went there on their birthday.

My dad and I were serenaded with Happy Birthday by the lovely singing voice of Uncle Louis on many a happy occasion.

Uncle Louis was also the man who sang the lovely hymn Amazing Grace in both English and Cantonese at my dad's funeral this past June.

It was an amazing rendition- one I shall never forget.

The Blue Willow Restaurant takes its name from the famous Blue Willow China pattern.

And the pattern itself is based on an ancient Chinese legend of forbidden love- two lovers-Koong-She and Chang.

Koong-She was the daughter of a wealthy Mandarin civil servant.

Chang was the wealthy Mandarin's secretary.

They fell in love and since Chang was poor, the father forbade them to see one another.

The various patterns on the dishes, saucers and teacups of the Blue Willow pattern re-enact the story of what happened in the legend.

Since Uncle Louis sings Happy Birthday to all the Blue Willow customers, tonight was the turn of the Blue Willow customers to sing Happy Birthday to him.

Uncle Louis had Happy Birthday sung to him in English, French, Cantonese, Mandarin, Italian, Polish and Ukrainian.

Many of the customers had brought Uncle Louis birthday cards.

I was busy hitting my head because I've been so distracted by various things this past week I forgot to buy him a birthday card.

So I had asked my waitress if I could have 3 paper place mats that have the Blue Willow legend and tale of forbidden love of Koong-She and Chang on the front of them.

On the blank back of these 3 pieces of paper, I then wrote the following poem about the Blue Willow (that beautiful rare tree that kept Koong-She company in her loneliness and despair) and Uncle Louis.

I then read it aloud to Uncle Louis and his family at their dinner table.

I then handed it to Uncle Louis.

Uncle Louis who had tears in his eyes stood up and gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead saying, "Dear Christopher, thank you so so much for your lovely poem."

When I got home, the poem was still fresh in my mind so I wrote it down in a notebook.

I then typed it in Mac Text Edit and then pasted it here.




Uncle Louis and The Blue Willow


Uncle Louis- he is a real gent
follower of the Son who's Heaven-sent
now there's an ancient legend of old
to be found on China patterns bold
that told of two lovers that did meet
their forbidden love would make you weep
Koong-She and Chang their name
their tale in China one of fame
Koong-She's father forbade their love
as he angrily struck a snow-white dove.

Though Chang was rich in heart, he had no gold
and so for this, tragedy would unfold,
Her father sent Koong-She far away
where she sadly spent many a day.
All she had for company was the old Blue Willow
that and the tears upon her pillow.

But Chang made a coconut boat
and to his delight, it did float
a message on it he sent to Koong-She
proclaiming his love everlastingly.

They did meet upon a bridge
but her father saw them from a ridge
and set out in hot pursuit.
Feeling their pain, clouds went dark like soot.

And seeing how their love was fair
they sent up to Heaven an earnest prayer
of which Heaven's gate was aware
and the lovers were turned into doves
symbols of God's peace and love.

Like the willow rare in the tale just told,
there is a gent with a voice of gold
and like that old Willow Blue
he'll sing a song for you
full of joy and hope and love
Louis' voice is a gift above.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY, UNCLE LOUIS!
-written by Dracul Van Helsing
in the Blue Willow Restaurant
on the occasion of Uncle Louis' 80th Birthday
Friday, October 1st, 2010

Oktoberfest With Jack O' Hare

Jack O' Hare felt a craving to attend Oktoberfest
he headed to Munich hearing it's the best
and there amidst the revelry and laughter
he licked the beer barrel tapper
and did the polka with Fraulein Staffer.

The crowd was impressed
this bunny was the best
even though his lieberhosen wouldn't fit
he had the quickest wit
and his accordion playing was up to par
so he had another round at the bar.

Fraulein Helga
he held-uh
and did a dance with Esmerelda
he's the coolest bunny
can't you tell-da?


-A poem written by Dracul Van Helsing
Friday, October 1st 2010