Silent Films

Reported to be Alfred Hitchcock's favorite film, and easily a new favorite for me. I've never been so entranced by a film. Astounding expressionistic photography. I was so moved that I decided not to review this film, but take an unconventional approach to showing my appreciation, by retelling the story in the form of poetry.


"My lover, we travel the dusty path.
There he stands blocking our way,
With his cold, long, skeleton staff.
He?s come for you and I my dear.
His cheekbones cast long shadows,
Dark, cold, and sincere.

He came here, to plant roots.
Suffering no one,
No trace of blood on his boots.
He decides who will go, and who will be left,
Our tour guide, his name is Death.

Carefree, sipping our ale, peacefully.
A soft thought distracts you, my love.
She returns to never again find,
Her eternal beloved.
Disappeared in the night like a dove.

Death is strangely familiar,
Behind his tall gate,
Looking down his eternal pillar.
Cloudy personification, opaque glowing eyes.
He stares you directly, never blinking,
Altering the mood of the skies.

Presentiments of doom,
Hark to what I say good people,
Is there nothing I can do?
My beloved is taken away from me,
And I haven?t a clue.

Passion is as cruel as the grave.
A lesson in love, she shall receive.
For her love, she has to save,
Three lover?s lights,
To be extinguished within the hour.

Flame one. The falling flower.
A shame, some love withers,
before it can even be enjoyed.
Entrapment, a devise of his clever ploy.
El Mot has a half-buried surprise,
Ramadan is destroyed.

Flame two. Another predestined doom.
A princess in a parade, a masquerade.
Carnival approaches soon.
Our lovers devise a secrete mete,
Yet only to greet, and be met by,
A cold dagger , a smooth and swift blade.
Once again trapped, in Death?s serenade.

Flame three. Their love is magic, you see.
Kissing in segments, 1, 2, and 3.
A shepherd of the feeble, a jester for the throne,
The emerald wand, only demons of fire would condone.
Yet, her lover pierced by the arrow of fear,
Our princess Shiva, sheds a single bloody tear.

You have failed in your task, to bring your lover back.
But don?t think that I sit and laugh.
Compassion, I long since hath.
Stuck in God?s seemingly relentless wrath.
Death is just the cross that I bear.
Return to living! Return to your life out there.

I refuse! ..our hero screams.
She?ll do anything for her beloved,
He is the man of her dreams.
Passion is dangerous, he has already warned.
Honestly scorned, already laid to rest, dear.
Loving is dying, it now becomes clear.

Not one day?
Not one hour?
Not one breath..!
Our hero has no options,
Has nothing left.
I give myself to you, sweet release of death."