Haiku About Malaysian Airlines Flight MH17

Haiku About Malaysian Airlines Flight MH17



Flight MH17
Ukraine's war adds to the tears
of Malaysian grief

In The Heat of The Night: A Poem

In The Heat of The Night: A Poem


Memories of Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe stories come flooding through my mind
as floods of perspiration fall from my forehead
As a kid  I was enthralled reading of Marlowe's exploits on those hot humid Los Angeles nights
when the City came to a halt in the all encompassing heat
and the only thing that moved were criminals up to no good
and Marlowe who set out to stop them.
The alluring femme fatale standing in the doorway of Marlowe's office
as the fan worked overtime to keep Marlowe cool
from the heat being generated from the humidity outside
and the heat being generated from the woman in the doorway.
A sip of bourbon
the cool taste of a menthol cigarette brushing the lips
such handy implements meant to lower the temperature.
Such were the stories I read of Marlowe in the Los Angeles of the 1930s and '40s.
The California West Coast sweltering in unbearable heat.
As the British Columbia West Coast swelters in unbearable heat
and Vancouver cooks like a hot pot unattended on the stove
I perspire and seek the coolness of a lounge with first-rate air conditioning
and think of that metropolis far to the south
where Marlowe once walked the streets.
And then I think "but Marlowe wasn't a real person".
It says a lot about Chandler, his words and his writing
that his creation casts a long shadow
and seems to take the form of a real ghost
on those hot summer nights when the mercury soars upward like a rocket
and the perspiration falls like a waterfall
when the fan on the ceiling becomes a knight in shining armour
and damsels in distress flock to the office
where the bottle of bourbon is on the desk
and the cigarette smoke rises
to catch the reflection of the shining neon light outside.




-A poem written
 by Christopher
 Tuesday July 15th
 2014.

The Death Defying Jump

The Death Defying Jump


Mocker of Thanatos (not his real name)  was a professional motorcycle jumping daredevil.


Mocker used a classic Harley-Davidson XR 750 for his jumps- the bike most used by his idol Evel Knievel during his death-defying stunts of the 1970s.


Today he would be attempting a ramp-to-ramp motorcycle jump over 50 Boeing 767s lined-up side by side.


His assistants told him that he was crazy and that they would quit if he went ahead with this jump.

Oh well, he could always hire new assistants.


His wife told him that he was crazy and that she would leave him if he went ahead with this jump.


Oh well, as long as she left the remote behind (unlike his ex-wife), he wouldn't care.


His psychiatrist told him that he was crazy if he went ahead with this jump.


But then again psychiatrists were paid to tell people that they were crazy.



Mocker of Thanatos went up the ramp with lightning speed.


He had never raced so quickly in his life.


Off the ramp he went...

... and he went sailing through the air...

...five... ten... only 40 to go...

... 15.... 20...

... damn... he was good...

... 20... 25...


...25... 30...


... Yes... he was definitely hot stuff all right...


...30... 35...

... he was simply the best...


... 36... 37...


...38... 39...


... better than all the rest...


...40 .... 41...

... as Tina Turner would probably sing about him...


... 42...  43...


... he should really get a selfie while he was doing this...


He reached inside his vest pocket to grab his smart phone...

... 45... 46...

... this should only take a sec..


... the bike nose dived and struck the right wing of the 48th Boeing 767...

... the bike bounced off the wing and sent both bike and rider flying in opposite directions...


Mocker of Thanatos' dead body (he would be mocking Thanatos no longer)  landed beside a billboard advertising sign that read,


Please do not use your cell phone while driving.

Distracted driving can cause accidents.






-A short story written
 by Christopher
 Monday July 14th
 2014.


Sent from my iPhone

Haiku About Israel vs. Hamas Conflict

Haiku About Israel vs. Hamas Conflict



The war in Gaza
The only clear cut winner
is  figure of Death

Campfire Tales: A Poem

Campfire Tales:   A Poem



The camp leader sat by the fire
underneath stars that inspire
and feeling so inspired
and young campers not tired
told a tale to fright
in darkness of night
of the creature that rose from the sea
with arms like the trunk of a tree
and beheaded people sleeping on the beach
as well as others within his reach.
"Behead?" gulped Jimmy as he chewed on a leaf,
"Does this guy think he's a Middle East Caliph?".
The creature moves with stealth
and beheads those in perfect health
He's a frightful thing to see
this half-beast half-tree
a genetically modified experiment gone wrong
he beheads while singing a song
"Off with your head
the sand your bed
it will roll into the sea
fresh food for me."
Then the camp leader said "time for bed",
each camper felt for his head
and finding it still in place
lay down- their hearts a-race
each roar of the waves
each crash of the surf
did not make for much mirth
they all waited with baited breath
hoping the next would not bring sudden death
in the form of the beast from the sea
with arms like the trunk of a tree
waiting to behead the "likes of you and me".



-A narrative poem
 written by Christopher
 Wednesday July 9th
 2014.


Sent from my iPhone

Haiku About Brazil's 7-1 Loss To Germany In World Cup Semi-Final

Haiku About Brazil's 7-1 Loss To Germany In World Cup Semi-Final


Brazil's supporters
you can tell who they are by
paper bags on heads

I Once Met A Man Who Looked Like Orson Welles

I Once Met A Man Who Looked Like Orson Welles



At a picnic many years ago, I once met a man who looked like Orson Welles.


Orson Welles as he looked later in life- bearded and heavyset.


At the table in front of him, he had a litre of wine and a glass.


The glass had both wine and ice in it.


Drinking wine with ice in it.


That struck me as something Orson Welles might do.


The man even sounded like Orson Welles as he talked.


He even laughed like Orson Welles laughed.

As Orson Welles had been long dead at the time I met this man, this would probably be the closest I'd get to meeting someone like Orson Welles I figured.


The man talked about growing up on a farm near Watson, Saskatchewan back during the Depression years of the 1930s.



He talked about the baseball team in the town of Watson.


About how his father was a big fan of baseball.


He loved the New York Yankees and he loved Watson's baseball team.


Watson had a good team.


But they always lost to Regina in the league championships each year.


Plus the Watson baseball team did not really have a good set of uniforms being a small town of the Depression years.

Regina being Saskatchewan's largest city had a great set of uniforms for their players.


And the man who looked like Orson Welles went on, "It was a night in August..."

Sadly I've forgotten the year he mentioned but it was an August night sometime in the late '30s.


And Regina and Watson would probably be playing again in the League Championships at the end of the season judging from the amount of wins each team had.


So this August night the game between the two of them would probably serve as a preview of the League Championships.


And it seemed to be a harbinger of such judging from past years.


Because Watson always played well but Regina always ended up winning.


And the Regina players would always rub it in to the Watson players about their loss.


And they would always rub it in to the Watson players about their uniforms.


That particular August night after the Watson loss,  'Orson Welles' father heard one of the Regina players say to one of the Watson players, "Your playing is like your uniforms.  Not quite up to par."


'Orson Welles' father was livid.


But it just happened that fall that 'Orson Welles' father had a rare bumper crop for those years of the Depression.


And as a result, he had money coming in.


So he bought things needed for the home, the farm and the family.



And he still had money left over.



So he bought a whole fresh new set of uniforms for the Watson baseball team which he presented to them the week before the League Championship- which was once again between Watson and Regina.


Championship Day came.


And the Regina players' eyes bulged out of their heads when they saw the Watson team's uniforms.


The sight must have been too much for the Regina players to handle.



For that year they lost the League Championships to Watson.



After the game, one of the Watson players while holding the Championship Trophy went up to one of the Regina players (the one who had said, "Your playing is like your uniforms.  Not quite up to par.")  and holding up the trophy and adjusting his spiffy looking jersey asked him, "How do you like our uniforms?".


A story related by a voice like Orson Welles.


I shall always remember that story.


And I shall always remember that line spoken with an Orson Welles voice, "How do you like our uniforms?".




-A short story
 written by Christopher
 Wednesday July 2nd
 2014
 based on an anecdote
 told him many years ago
 by a man who looked
 like Orson Welles.


Sent from my iPhone

Canada Day: A Poem

Canada Day:  A Poem


Cobs of corn thick in butter
A row of hamburger patties sizzling
Nice juicy steak on the barbeque
A pitcher of refreshing lemonade
Dozens of hot dog buns
A red mouthwatering watermelon



Day of celebration
A night of family, friends and fireworks
Yes! It's Canada Day.



-A poem written by Christopher
 Tuesday July 1st 2014.