Thursday, February 25, 2010

Walking Weirdo

Why is it so

When I walk down the street
with a frown on my face

you grab your bag a little tighter

Your eyes tell.


They say how you want to cross to the otherside.

Your eyes tell.

They say how you silently pray that I might
so you dont have to.


Holding your breath
you dont cross
you dont even blink

You pass me by without saying a word.
Society says that if you did
If you admitted to it
If you confessed your fear
Then infact
you
are one of the bad people

Why is it so


When I walk down the street
with a smile on my face
you grab your bag a little tighter

Your eyes tell.

They say how you think it is weird
somewhat even strange.

Society stipulates that
a person who smiles when not watching TV
Not listening to something funny
or smiling outside any of the prescribed
and detailed rules
must be crazy

In our politically correct
logical
rational
and highly existential society


Where the true intellectuals have the answers
(and have had them since birth)
to all the worlds problems.

Only their:
music
movies
and literature (and anything else they like)
are worthy to even be called such

In our society where complaints and sarcasm
replace prayer and praise
backbiting is common place
temper tantrums after the age of five is completely acceptable
lashing out at someone for something they had nothing to do with
simply because
they were there
is very ok

In our society where there is no belief in any God or Gods
and if there was any
we as humans are self-sufficient enough now
to not have any
need
or
use
of him, her, or them

Our society says
Only a crazy weirdo
smiles at you for no reason.
Most likely because they are about to do something
something crazy and weird

Why is it so

because your eyes do infact tell

you very much think

Im the weirdo

Creative Commons License
Walking Weirdo by Christopher F. Brown is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at pentopaperandfingertokey.blogspot.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://pentopaperandfingertokey.blogspot.com/2010/02/walking-weirdo.html.

Bad Friend

I am not what you thought I was.
Nor will I ever succumb to what you think I should be.

I define me.

Every stroke
of
Every letter
of
Every word
of
Me

You laugh and call me crazy
when I dance and sing.

Life is beautiful if you let it be.

You hate me
You call me a bad friend.

All because I wont entertain your misery
With the same.


Creative Commons License
Bad Friend by Christopher F. Brown is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at pentopaperandfingertokey.blogspot.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://pentopaperandfingertokey.blogspot.com/2010/02/bad-friend.html.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Words left behind

Words left behind
are what I hope to bring.

Maybe it will be my legacy.

Maybe it is my arrogant conceit.

Whatever it is
Whatever it will be

It is what is now
I can not help but do.

I've gone from hiding them in the dark damp mold
to
shoving them in the face of anyone that dared to turn eye and look

Long after I'm dead and gone
(and maybe even, but hopefully not forgotten)

Loving the lavish grasp that is my fathers arms

I wont think of the words that were left behind.

I will have long forgotten the hope they were to bring.


Christopher F. Brown 2010
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