Thursday, September 4, 2014



There is blood in the wind

unknown why, unknown where it will lead

the moldy metallic smell gives cause to object

for some reason withheld from my thoughts my eyes wont close

for some reason withheld from my thoughts my eyes wont shed a tear

how is it that my soul remains content


What is this new content

somehow depravity and my heart wind

righteousness and good rent and tear

letting this unknown lead

close, too close,

I don’t know but I must refuse, I must object


what is inside this soul that has become nothing but an object

this new thing that is forcing me to call it a soul, what is its content

this new soul’s hands will not close

this new soul’s speech rides on the back of the wind

this new soul’s heart has the heft and poison of lead

my old eyes still will not shed a tear


Take it from me even if it means you have to rip and tear

beat it out of me with a dull and blunt object

this new soul is poison, I will reclaim my lead

with this new soul I will not be content

There is blood in the wind

it comes to close


to close

this new soul will not have my tear

riding in the wind

I will object

I will not be content

I will not let this new soul lead


I  lead

I will make all open paths close

I will craft the content

out of the tear

that object

that refuses to ride in the wind


Blood is the content of the wind

As it draws close, my tear becomes its desired object

As it draws close, it leaves me because I refuse to abdicate my lead.


©Christopher F. Brown 2014

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

A Review of Barry Glassner's, "The Culture of Fear"

IMG_20140715_190528It was an over all ok read; i would love to see an updated edition, "Fear revisited" or something of that nature with updated statistics and new information. In the book they reference soldiers as having GWS (Gulf War Syndrome) which is now umbrellaed along with the term "post traumatic stress syndrome." Little things like that would make a, "2nd edition" an even more enthralling read for today's somewhat aware generation. Its a very good read for those who have some suspicions that the things that are being told are not true, its confirmation for the rest of us that know the things that are being said to us, or about us in my case and chapter, are not true. An excellent book for anyone interested in Journalism, Sociology, Psychology, Skepticism, Politics, Critical thinking or theory. If you study any one of those subjects, read this book because you very well may reference, "Fear" in the future. 

The down side is also the good side. This book has a copious amount of data, names of institutions, names of studies, articles in journals and research papers, as well as official titles politicians and scientist so much so that you can practice your speed reading and skip every third word. It is akin to that huge amounts of various greens surrounding a solitary salad shrimp you are given when you by a prepackaged shrimp salad. Over all a very good read, very good book. You can skip some stuff, even a chapter maybe.



Saturday, June 7, 2014

Someone Is At The Door

Egypt & China were ancient long before Rome

Greece taught them how to translate.

The Inca, Maya, and Aztec already were very old

When A new world appeared at their shores


For two hundred years India attempted to retrain her invaders in her long ancient ways of civility


North America, Australia, and Africa tried to show their captors a spiritual connection could be attain working with the land

Not forcing it

They all spoke of

and still do

speak of great calamity otherwise.


When the men on the boats came to the islands by the night stars

The men on the islands showed them that

If they watched and listed to the waves

It was just as easy


I read that its now possible

To go live on mars

even the moon


I wonder what we will do

when we get to a far and away place and find



Is already there.


© Christopher F. Brown 2014

Southern Men

What is it about southern men

they have this charm

much like smelling incense from afar


You can not see it

but once you smell it

you can almost feel it


moving about in the air

taking and making its own way

not intruding upon or begging for space

simply existing in their own


when you do see them

these southern men

their words seem to match their body

their moves seems as a mystical dance born into them from a time long ancient

a time whose name was lost long ago


Their speech is akin to song

not in so much as what they speak

but how they speak



lazy vowels

slightly forced and gently pushed air in the middle and end of sentences.


These southern men

they have a sense of knowing

a sense of collective individuality

mixed with comfort and ease

unique and similar to them one and all


even in the way they are shaped

curves seemed rounder

skin tones richer

hair fuller and baldheads smoother


I'll only use the word


to say that they are not

to say it is not the thing,

its more a quality of character that they seem to share

These southern men


it may be in they way they say hello with their smiles and every so slightly

show you a mystery in the corner curve of their profile

their gait and posture entice interest more than lust

try as i might to put my finger on it

I fail


they do not have the same defensive and raw edge of east coast men

but when they do reach a place of anger it is well known


they do not have the same cavalier sun worshiper disguise that might mask a master hustler or genius urban intellectual as west coast men


but do not mistake their quiet of words for absence of thought.

I've known southern men to contemplate the entirety of the universe the expanse of existence

while speaking in between sips of iced tea

or rambling while working on an old beat up truck.


Their eyes bewitch but not beguile

You are always a willing participant and always

if only slightly

aware of what is happening


Its not that other men do not have their own

it just has been for me that

Southern men

have always been like an interesting story that seems new everytime you read it

that first edition of a rare book that most have never heard of

that most fascinating work of art you see at the fleamarket most would pass by


If you have ever known a southern man

you understand

they seem to somehow speak to a place in your soul asking,


"Might it be alright if I enchanted you?"


©Christopher F. Brown 2014

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Not so Little, Not so Simple

Black gave birth to the spectrum of light


Black is the home of every:

and Star
Shooting or otherwise

Black holds the clarity of consciousness and all possibility

Black crafts the dream and nightmare a like
Black is the true color of the sky when one is not confused and blinded by the light of day


Black was never ugly nor was it ever evil until a clouded group mind claimed it so

Black never needed to be apart of the rainbow.


©Christopher F. Brown 2014

Saturday, May 31, 2014

What Webster Didn’t Know

Pause for a slight moment


In English

we lack certain words for certain things

certain ideas

certain feelings


There should be a single word:


for that first waking thought

when you have become fully conscience.


for that crepuscular moment when a hot summer's afternoon has turned to a warm

but tolerable summers evening


for the heartbeat synchronization of two lovers

after one has laid their head on the other’s chest and they both journey off in peace.


pause for a moment

©Christopher F. Brown 2014

Monday, April 14, 2014


Cleaning out old boxes I find:

old clothes that ive long passed fitting

old bills that have long passed the point of being due

old notes to myself that have long passed the point of purpose

old poems that have long passed the place of remembrance

old pictures that I refuse to view

old love letters that still hurt like new


I think to myself,

“I was better then wasn’t I?


My writing seemed more pure

My voice seemed more authentic

My passion seemed to burn hotter
I had a reason to own all those ties


What happen to me?”

We all change

rather we want to or not


shouldn’t I be looking back with a smile?


I think to myself,

Thank God I'm not there anymore.

yet here is not that much better

it is arguably worse.

What happen to



©Christopher F. Brown 2014


Sunday, April 13, 2014

The Esoteric Autodidact

The truth is
im a relic

Im good at things from a time gone by
I exceed at things
never shown to me

Self-taught (_____)

they always say
with hole hearted delight and honesty,

"your work has such a;
rough around the edges feel to it."

I wasnt trying to be
any of those things

I wasnt trying to be

I damn sure wasnt
trying to sell you something

I wasnt even trying
in the sense or tense that you 
think I was
assumed I was

I was and am
being me

whatever words you think fit that 
so be it

I already have 
and reserve the right to continue to
define myself


© Christopher F. Brown 2014

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