A poem
When all the stories have been told, retold and
reimagined
when all the poetry has been written
when the times twist in our guts, making our
hearts sore
because with words I am smitten
then I will want more.
C
No comments on When
Category: poetry
-
A poem, yes, it is, no it isn’t.
In the comments,
they reply,
guys
cry, rant and rave
to be right
hogging the light
quoting
dispensing free advice
not once,
but thrice if you only could see
how earnestly
passionately they nearly
finished reading
some book by some guy
inspired by
some other guy on the channel,
I’m here
so I guess my lesson
is there for
me.
C
-
A poem
Compressing my emotions, tamping
repressing, never
addressing
those little shards of colored glass
stuck, lodged deeply
in raw flesh.C
-
A poem
His lifelong love left him,
her soul soared from this sphere
he was bereft,
left alone with griefs cold touch,
he faded into sepia shades,
no protests made
like a husk, he died within,
with the gentle gust of a westerly wind
he blew away from the grey
back into the light.C
-
Light
A song that captures a poignant scene
well remembered lucid dreams
Thoughts grasped, notions understood
herbs flourishing in a pot
A meal cooked and well received
Stories shared and believed
Mastery of fingers over wire and wood
being caught offguard by acts of kindness
parks well maintained for the common good
being noticed for losing weight
a line in Yeats that brings forth a tear
when some soul shares a secret shared fear.
Shadow
To feel lost, at a loose end
simmering sense of total failure
fueling a constant barely subdued rage
to fall for an obvious lure
to tend always to the trivial and obscure
feeling foolish at time wasted
berating myself for having no clear goals
to spend too much, poor impulse control
to feel poor and measure yourself
judgemental stormy moods
to struggle to find kindness in the daily fight.
Chris 2024 -
For the courageous ones
braving gun and club
in the street…
my cowardly soul cries out
for the people,
for the people in the street.
C
-
a poem.
When in passing time, we pause
reflecting on rich meals
small moments stolen from the wheels
of spinning time,
how the insistent wild wind oft reveals
something hidden
beneath the clutter of scarlet leaves,
in Autumn’s span
cycles begin and then inevitably end,
it is in the hidden revealed
that poetry in its purest is born, we are healed.Chris Feb 26
-
A poem
Crowded cafe
Coffee lifeline
overhearing conversations
feeling
self conscious,
speaking softly then loudly
ordering
while deep inside of me
that raging sea
of anxiety.
Crowded streets
can’t hear my own footsteps
there’s no sense
of self,
just scanning for threat
among the roar
of human jaws,
Soothe
Regulate,
I sit here in the corner
my coffee
before me
I’m an actor in a scene
a romantic soul
won’t some kind soul see
my little victory
against anxiety?
Home again
my alternative narrative
my capacity
little sparkling moments
I have to celebrate
with coffee
the embrace of the place
where we gather
solitary souls together
again.
C -
I met a Moody mermaid
a sulky selkie,
drifting dreamily by my side
my awkward aquatics
did not deter her, my lower limbs
strangely delighted her,
she longed to walk
run and laughing leap into the deep.
Dear girl I can see
what you might envy in me,
yet for my eyes
your grace in the green seas
captivates me!
my weight drags me down,
on land my weary legs
yearn for lightness, to embrace
deep sea water,
Like many of us, we look
at what we don’t have, while our hearts are sad
we should sing the songs of our tribe,
always loving currents
all around, don’t envy the ground!
while your world is wondrous
wild and always free.
C -
A poem.
I want a world without flags,
little cloth reminders
of death and greed and all those
who bled out clutching a flag,
Where I was born
is an act of faith and fortune
not imbuing me with
Virtue.
If you want a flag to notice
look for the red ones
so called patriots proudly display
how they treat people
when no one’s looking their way
Is that okay?
C
Invasion Day 2026
Chris' Poetry 