There's Comfort In Old Clocks Tick-Tocking

There's comfort in old clocks tick-tocking on the wall

Tick-tock! Tick-tock!

The pendulum goes back and forth.

Bong! The clock announces the hour.

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

The bird comes out and sings. 

The rhythm of life.

Tick-tock! Tick-tock!

Sometimes it seems the tick-tock is going so fast

and other times... oh! so slow!  

The pendulum...

those moments of ecstasy!

those moments of agony!

Back and forth! Back and forth!

Bong!

Those major moments...

graduation...

first love...

first job...

engagement...

marriage...

death of a parent...

birth of a child!

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

Watching a reality TV show.

Hearing a news story about Paris Hilton!

Hearing a news story about Lindsay Lohan!

Listening to a politician caught in a scandal

saying he's resigning strictly for personal 

and family reasons.

Listening to an athlete caught with his pants down

and his urine tainted

saying no, he didn't use performance enhancing drugs.

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

There's comfort in old clocks tick-tocking on the wall

Tick-tock!  Tick-tock!

The pendulum goes back and forth.

Bong! The clock announces the hour.

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

The bird comes out and sings.

-A poem written by Christopher

  Friday Evening

 Good Friday

 March 29th 2013

Jack O' Hare In Stanley Park

Written for Amanda- my little friend who I never met and shall not meet in this lifetime- Rest in peace, little one. May the Lord shine His countenance on thee.

Jack O' Hare the wild hare jack rabbit from the Canadian prairie province of Alberta was wandering through the large Stanley Park of Vancouver, British Columbia.

He was searching for his friend Christopher.

His friend Christopher had suddenly left his house in Sherwood Park one day.

This was about a year after his other friend- Christopher's father George- had left the same house the day some noisey vehicle with a siren and flashing lights had come and taken George away on what looked to be a small bed.

He had heard that his friend Christopher had moved to the nearby City of Edmonton.

So he went to Edmonton.

But he could not find Christopher.

Then he had heard that Christopher had moved to far-away Vancouver.

So Jack O' Hare crossed the treacherous Rocky Mountains over the Great Divide from Alberta to British Columbia and eventually made his way southwest down to Vancouver.

Vancouver was a very very large city- Jack discovered- even larger than Edmonton.

And Jack searched and searched.

But still Christopher could not be found.

But Jack did enjoy hopping around Stanley Park- full of nice trees and grass and flowers- and in some spots, you had a really nice view of the ocean.

One man that Jack watched every day in the Park was a man that he heard other humans call a "magician".

The man performed for children.

He used to hide things under eggs and then move the eggs around and children would try to find the hidden object.

The man also had an old black hat that he kept on top of the table.

The man told the children that he was going to pull a rabbit out of the hat.

But the trick never seemed to work.

There was no rabbit.

And the children would cry.

One day a little girl who looked very sad and her mother who looked very sad came walking through the park.

The man they called the magician did what he called his "magic tricks" for them.

The little girl seemed to start smiling.

And then her mother started to smile too.

Then the little girl pointed at the hat and said, "Pull a wabbit out of that hat."

She had seen a similar trick once on television.

Jack noticed the magician started looking sad.

Probably because that was the one trick of his that never seemed to work here in Stanley Park on the little blanket covered table where he worked.

But nevertheless the magician started reaching into the hat.

And Jack suddenly moved at lightning pace- so quick that no one could see him- he ran under the blanket covered table and when he saw the man sticking his arm into the top of the hat- Jack went leaping into the air and came out of the hat.

The little girl laughed and laughed.

The mother smiled and smiled.

Even the man they called the "magician" who looked surprised at first started to smile and laugh.

And the little girl who once looked sad went away looking happy as did her mother.

And the magician was happy.

And Jack felt happy too.

And a new precious angel in Heaven called Amanda looked down at what Jack had done and smiled...

she was happy too.

-A short story written by Christopher

 Saturday, March 23rd 2013.

Raging Storm

Raging storm 

for this first day of spring.

It began with rain

then bright, bright sunshine

it looked like spring had arrived

and then the dark dark clouds moved in

the rain fell again

but with the feel of icy torrents

as if Norse frost giants had breathed on them.

The wind raged

and then raged some more

and then hit out like a scorned lover

The waves pounded and crashed

and hit the shore like watery fists

The ocean frothed and foamed

its violent churning 

sending foam on to the land

and into the air.

The wind blew spray everywhere.

Some streets closed because of flying debris

several parts of downtown Vancouver without power

and the rage is not over.

The wind outside howls like an Irish banshee

a trillion times over

spring seems to have perished

like a trampled clover.

When Nature's angry,

she's really angry.

Hell indeed hath no fury

like this woman Nature scorned.

-A poem written by Christopher

 Wednesday evening March 20th 2013

 on the day of the Spring equinox.

Low Low Tide On English Bay

The lowest low tide I've ever seen on English Bay

The water was way way out today.

Rocks I've never seen before because covered by waves

stood jutting out on the sands like cathedral naves.

A black Saint Bernard dog came panting along the beach

chasing starS(fish) he could reach.

A young pretty woman in a ballet dress-

quite a sight on this cold day I must confess-

did pirouettes in the sand

performing Swan Lake by the sea-

it was all so grand.

She ran and petted the Saint Bernard dog

then danced away where others might jog.

A surreal spectacle on a March day

it's quite the place- this English Bay!

-A poem written by Christopher

 Monday March 18th 2013

 based on what he observed this day

 at English Bay, Vancouver, British Columbia

 Canada

Sidney Seagull Sings Don't Cry For Me, Transylvania

Announcer:  Welcome to the first ever episode of Seagull Idol where seagulls get the chance to strut their stuff and show the world how talented they are...

... our first contestant hails from English Bay, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, Mr. Sidney Seagull...

(applause from audience)

Announcer: And our first judge is recently elected Pope Francis...

(audience applauds as Pope Francis gives his Apostolic Blessing)

Announcer: Our second judge is recently defeated U.S. Republican Presidential candidate Mitt Romney...

(no one applauds)

Mitt Romney  (waving at announcer):  Couldn't you just refer to me as Gov. Mitt Romney?

Announcer:  No, I couldn't, recently defeated U.S. Republican Presidential candidate Mitt Romney...

(Romney sighs)

Announcer:   And our third judge has judged talent shows in both the United States and the United Kingdom, Mr. Simon Cowell...

(Both applause and boos from the audience)

Announcer:  Okay, Mr. Sidney Seagull, what are you going to sing for us tonight?

Sidney Seagull:   A song I wrote myself called Don't Cry For Me, Transylvania.  It's sung to the tune of Don't Cry For Me, Argentina.

(Both Pope Francis and Mitt Romney look interested while Simon Cowell buries his head in his hands)

Sidney (singing):

I won't be sneezy

at home on the range

when I explain how to cook eel

to your turtle dove

You won't believe me

All you will see is a gull you once knew

how he ever did his nails

was never quite clear to you.

(Simon Cowell starts sliding down his chair)

I had to let it happen

I had to change

couldn't wear the same shirt

though it matched my high-heel

(Cowell starts sliding under the table)

Flying out of the window

with a stolen hamburger bun

so I chose seadom

an ocean with a view

and a rocky sea wall

and mountains so blue...

(Cowell collapses to the floor)

Don't cry for me, Transylvania

the truth is I'm not a vampire

so my pants are on fire

and thus I'll fly higher

I'll keep my drawers

but at a great distance.

(Cowell starts banging his head on the floor)

And as for fortune and as for fame

I invited them in

but they got lost

along with my bottle of gin

(Cowell starts scratching his nails on the floor)

It seemed they were all I desired

that and a sports car fully-tired

but in all the confusion

I lost my contact lens solution

after hitting a tree

and when I played touch football

I blew out out my knee.

(Simon Cowell shrieks in agony)

Don't cry for me, Transylvania.

The truth is I'm not a vampire

so my pants are on fire

and thus I'll fly higher

I'll keep my drawers 

but at a great distance.

Have I sang too much?

(Simon Cowell nods yes)

There's nothing more I can sing to you?

(Cowell shouts aloud, God no!)

but all you have to do

is look at me to know

I'll sing 'till I'm blue...

(Simon Cowell loads a semi-automatic rifle and fires at Sidney. 

Sidney falls to the stage)

Sidney Seagull's friend Red Herring Gull (backstage):

He's just faking it. Good thing I told Sidney to wear a bullet proof vest before going on.

(Meanwhile in the Oval Office of the White House, U.S. President Barack Obama wipes his brow)

Barack Obama (wiping his brow):  Good thing Simon took out his semi-automatic and used it when he did.

I was about to sign an Executive Order authorizing a drone attack on that bird.

And the Republicans in Congress would have had a field day if they knew I authorized a drone attack on an American citizen on American soil...

U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry:  Actually, Mr. President, that bird is really a Canadian citizen on American soil...

Obama:  Good God.  (He sees Sidney Seagull rising up on the stage waving both a bulletproof vest and a white flag).  Send in the drones then.  Someone's got to pay for this ringing in my ears.

                                           THE END.

-Another Sidney Seagull fiasco
 written by Christopher
 Saturday evening
 March 16th 2013

Seagull On Sistine Chapel Chimney

Seneca Seagull sat on the Sistine Chapel chimney

the latest in a long line of seagulls who had made Rome

their home 

since the time of the Caesars.

Seneca did have relatives in other parts of the world

his wild and crazy Canadian cousin Sidney Seagull

who did wild and crazy things on Canada's West Coast

and brought tourists to Vancouver British Columbia's

English Bay to see his wild and crazy antics.

But Seneca Seagull made the City on the Tiber 

his home

and here he sat on top of the chimney of the Sistine Chapel

wondering when the white smoke would rise.

Seneca had heard it said in Italian seagull lore

that there was once a monk named Francis of Assisi

who was kind to birds and animals and people

he had once bought a cage of doves from a peddler

and set them free.

Francis had loved all of God's creation

talking of Brother Sun and Sister Moon.

Seneca flew from the chimney when he saw 

smoke rising.

"O Creator of all,"

Seneca Seagull looked up at the sky

"When will the Earth get another Francis?".

-A poem written by Christopher

 Thursday evening March 14th 2013.

He Drank Red Red Wine

I was in the bar when I saw the old man come in

with walking stick he shuffled into the bar

a couple of waitresses came over to help him

he shuffled slowly- each arm held steady by a waitress

as he shuffled to a table way in the back

"His favourite table"- another waitress said to me.

He sat down slowly- very slowly- and winced with pain 

as he did so.

He sat there with great pain etched on his face.

A waitress brought him a half-litre of red wine

and a glass-

red red wine.

He sipped the red red wine

with each sip the grimace of pain

lessened but was still there.

Probably not all the red red wine in the world

could ease the pain etched on his face.

He drank the red red wine.

"Red red wine makes me feel so fine" 

went a song I recalled hearing as a kid

a song sung by some Caribbean singer

whose name I've forgot-

"red red wine makes me feel so fine".

But the red red wine did not make

the old man fine.

He drank the red red wine to

ease the pain.

"Red red wine makes me feel so fine"

the song went

but he... drank the red red wine to ease the pain.

Red red wine to ease the pain...

is that why in an Upper Room in Jerusalem 2000 years ago

Someone lifted up a cup of red red wine

and said, "This is MY blood"

to ease all OUR pain?

Red red wine

the old man drank red red wine 

to ease the pain.

When he had finished

he shuffled out of the bar

his face still etched with pain.

Into the night he went

most likely home.

Was a bottle of red red wine waiting there

to ease the pain?

And the day the old man no longer shuffles into the bar

but shuffles off his mortal coil

will he have anyone left to toast his memory

in a glass of red red wine?

-A poem written by Christopher

 Friday evening March 8th 2013.

Rain and Neon

Rainy night on Granville Street

a March night in downtown Vancouver

pouring rain and neon lights

I feel like I'm in a Simon and Garfunkel song

People walking in the pouring rain

moving silhouettes under the neon lights

rain and neon

like a painting I once saw

rain and neon

and so I walk in the rain

and watch the neon flash

Neon flash and pouring rain

the rain seems to wash away everything

everything but the loneliness.

-A poem written by Christopher

 Friday evening March 1st 2013.