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Dracul Van Helsing

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

The Last Ride of The Train Engineer

He spent his life driving trains
through summer heat
and pouring rains.

He saw this country grow
riding the rails through
grain fields row on row.

Not as many grain fields as there used to be
instead he sees
row upon row of industry.

The old family farm is gone
along with local grain elevators
in a global corporate agro-business dawn.


An age of multi-lane highways
and planes flying skyways
the train whistles
amidst the thistles
but no longer do kids come running
up from brooks where they'd be sunning.

They're in suburbs far and away
on video games they do play
where once hills did tower
and seeds did flower
now cell phone towers loom
and concrete and asphalt grow
where flowers did bloom.

He was glad tomorrow he'd be retired
his favourite views long since expired
and out of the old locomotive he did walk
but not down to the bar to sit and talk
but down to a park where birds do flock.

Time to move on
time to move on
for tomorrow
will still bring another dawn.

-A poem written by Christopher Van Helsing
Tuesday evening August 30th 2011.



Photobucket

Heading towards the end of a day.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Another Field of Dreams

The sports announcer looked into the camera, "Well we know it's just an exhibition game between the Chicago Cubs and the Los Angeles Dodgers today as it's still the pre-season but today is a special occasion anyways and it's all because of LA Dodgers #9 Jorge Fernandez the Dodgers' legendary pitcher and legendary hitter..."

His co-host looked into the camera and continued the commentary, "Well we all know Jorge Ferdandez has had an absolutely phenomenal career in his 10 years with the Los Angeles Dodgers holding the record for most home runs in the team's history and the record for most no-hitter wins as a pitching member of that team..."

His announcing partner Jed picked up the commentary, "But Jorge's family life has been tragic not of course due to the intense love in their marriage between Jorge and his wife Juanita but due to the fact that their 8-year-old son Ricardo was born blind with a rare eye disease. But earlier this year, Jorge and Juanita received news that a visiting eye surgeon from China would be lecturing at the Loma Linda Children's Hospital on a new treatment for the eye disease that little Ricardo had."

Announcer Mark continued, "The surgeon Dr. Fong agreed to treat little Ricardo with the revolutionary new procedure and last week after several months of the treatment, Mr. and Mrs. Fernandez announced to the world that their son could now see..."

"So last night at a special dinner for team managers and coaches and players and their wives and members of the press and the general public," Jed went on, "Jorge gave this short speech at the end of which there was not a dry eye in the house..."

The tape runs of Jorge Fernandez's short speech, "Tomorrow some say is just an exhibition game. But tomorrow for me is the game I consider the most important of my career. For tomorrow's game means more to me than winning the National League West pennant. Tomorrow's game means more to me than winning the National League Championship. Tomorrow's game even means more to me than winning a World Series. For tomorrow's game is the first time that my beloved son Ricardo will get to see his daddy playing baseballl. .."

"And what could be a more appropriate moment than to end the tape there," Jed smiled, "for here comes Los Angeles Dodgers #9 Jorge Fernandez on to the field..."

Fans all over the stadium- those wearing regular clothes, those wearing Dodgers shirts and even those wearing Cubs shirts rose to give Fernandez a standing ovation.

On the stadium large screen, the tape played of Jorge Fernandez's closing remarks of his short speech last night, "And I say to you, nothing... absolutely NOTHING is going to stop me from playing in that game for my son tomorrow..."

The crowd cheered as Fernandez threw the first pitch...

"Strike," shouted the umpire.

The second pitch...

"Strike two..."

The third pitch...

"Strike 3," the umpire shouted, "Out."

The same went for the next 2 Cubs players.

Strike...

.... and

... out.

The Dodgers up to bat.

All the bases are loaded.

Jorge Fernandez comes up to bat...

WHACK!...

... a home run.

And so it continued through all 9 innings of the game...

... the Cubs come up to bat...

... the only words the umpire spoke during that entire time were "Strike" and "Out"...

... the Dodgers come up to bat...

... the words the stadium announcer spoke time after time... "The bases are loaded... Jorge Fernandez up to bat... home run..."

Whether it was top of the inning or bottom of the inning, Fernandez always came to center field and took a bow... whispering the words that were projected on to the large screen... I love you my darling Juanita... I love you my dear Ricardo..."

And after taking a bow, he would always run off the field to the locker room and then return to play.

When the game was over...

... the Dodgers had won by an unbelievable score...

Jorge Fernandez had pitched another no-hitter in his career...

... and most phenomenal of all...

... had scored 9 home runs in a single game...

Fernandez ignored being hugged by his fellow players and waved off handshakes or pats on the back...

He ran to center field again... "I love you, Juanita... I love you, Ricardo... I will always be with you... Remember that..."

He then ran off the field...

... he almost seemed to vanish when he ran off...

... and vanish was a good word for it because the press, his fellow players and his coach couldn't seem to find him in the locker room when they rushed in there after the disappearing Fernandez.

Up in his luxury box in the stadium, the General Manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers decided he'd better head down to the locker room and join in the celebrations with his most amazing player Jorge Fernandez...

The phone in the luxury box rang.

The General Manager picked it up.

It was Jorge Fernandez's agent Paul Lennox.

"Mr. Wilson...." began Paul.

"Paul," laughed Wilson, "are you here to renegotiate Jorge's contract already?".

"Renegotiate?" Paul stammered, "no, it's been total chaos the past couple of hours. I thought you were probably wanting to know the reason Jorge didn't show up to play this afternoon..."

"What do you mean didn't show up to play?" Mr. Wilson laughed, "He totally showed up to play, you joker. Pitching a no-hitter and hitting 9 home runs in a single game."

"But..." Paul's voice sounded very strange, "Mr. Wilson, when Jorge and I left the hotel for the stadium, our car was totally sideswiped by a truck on the passenger side. Jorge was killed instantly..."

After a conversation that then proceeded for several minutes and it dawned on both Mr. Wilson and Mr. Lennox that neither man was joking, Mr. Wilson said,

"Paul, I'm going to use my best connections that I know of. A lid must be put on what could potentially be a controversy... of a supernatural magnitude... I'm going to call in a whole bunch of favours... see if we can change the time of death on the death certificate... the time of the accident on the accident report..."

And on it went.

Mr. Wilson the General Manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers finally put the phone down.

He sighed.

He wasn't quite sure what had happened here this afternoon.

All he knew was that through some miracle, Jorge Fernandez had returned from the dead so his son could finally see him play baseball.

The head coach of the Los Angeles Dodgers knocked on the luxury box door and then opened it to tell the General Manager of the mysterious disappearance of Jorge Fernandez- baseball's man of the hour.

As he opened the door and noticed the peculiar expression on the General Manager's face, he quipped, "It looks like you've seen a ghost."

The General Manager looked up at the Head Coach and replied,

"We've all seen a ghost."


-A short story written by Christopher Van Helsling
Monday evening, August 29th 2011

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Dreams of The Ocean

Swish! Swish!
The sound of the waves
as they prodded the shore
Splash! Splash!
went the dolphins galore.

A summer night in August
as stars drop their stardust
and the moon shines her glow
on the waters below.

Oh palm trees that sway
on the beach of the bay
this glorious night
this harbour bright.

That was the night you came to me
the mermaid that came out of the sea
you kissed my lips
and pressed my fingertips.

I know you are but a dream
nothing be what it seem
but I feel your touch
for I can dream.

-A poem written on an August night far from the ocean
by Christopher Van Helsing,
Saturday evening August 20th 2011

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Rap Song About Justin Bieber

A friend of mine Kriztina in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia suggested to me last night I should try to write a rap song about Justin Bieber after I had written a rap song about movie character Freddy Krueger last night.

So I gave it a shot.

The rap song is not totally about Justin Bieber- there's references to other cultural pop icons and contemporary happenings in international geopolitics as well- not to mention a reference to a personal family situation involving a dispute over my late father's Estate.




How come so many people be hatin' Justin Bieber?
After all he's Canadian like the beaver
for Canadians are a mild-mannered folk
those on the West Coast like to toke
but it ain't because of marijuana Dracul is moving to Vancouver
it be because some family members were born in a sewer.

But returnin' to the subject of Justin Bieber
who some bad cats would like to hit with a cleaver
why yo'all pickin' on this guy?
Jealous cause he makes teen-aged girls sigh?

Now Bashar Assad who mows down his own people
while erectin' pics of himself higher than a steeple
now surely that would be reason to hate his guts
but to hate Justin Bieber because of his singin'
hate to tell you but you're simply nuts.

Then you got down on Rebecca Black
cause she got down on Friday
hearing her sing
made you cryday.

Sure the song ain't no masterpiece
but does that give you the right
to try to dispose of her like grease?

Hey world you got your priorities wrong
instead of hatin' people because of their song
why don't you act like a big man and be truly strong
there's a famine in northeast Africa
children there may not live long
get your Bieber and Black hatin' head out of your ass
stand up be a real man and show some true class
put your money where your mouth is
and do some true good helpin' starvin' kids.


-A rap song written by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing
Wednesday evening August 17th 2011

Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Figure In Silhouette

Figure in silhouette dances the streets
a shadow here
a flicker there
figure in silhouette dances the streets
gentle breeze blows a scent this way
sweet perfume
so intoxicating
so delightful
one looks to see whence it came
and all that is there...
figure in silhouette dances the streets
you're there
I can see you
but you may not take form here
I shall go find the city
where the figure in silhouette
dances the streets
and finally steps out of the shadows
for me.

-A poem written by Christopher Van Helsing
Tuesday evening, August 9th 2011.