Thursday, March 25, 2010

For A Reason

You ask me

Why did I love them?

Defensively I turn
and ask
and how
do you define love?

The entire Webster’s dictionary could be its thesaurus.
With the exception of hate.

I’ve come to a point in my life where
is debatable.

There is no one
particular example
At the same time
there is an abundance of small
little things.

In comparison
They would amount to a falling cherry blossom pedal.
they turn the ground pink
Unable to see what it was before

I guess that makes my previous statement a lie
at most
An oxymoron
at least

Even in that
is the true nature of love.
At least how I’ve come to know it

Trust me

I really am trying to answer the question.
I can’t explain why I loved them.
Even with all the words I know
love runs too deeply
Just as π continues endlessly.

I would need a life time just to began
You could say that is why I don’t love them anymore.

and time
are too precious to me to waste.

Especially to waste on someone
Who won’t take the time to open the door.

© Christopher F. Brown 2010

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Have you met me

You and I know
They are not your friends.
They are your competition
as is the rest of the world

It’s almost not your fault.

Like the man in black said,
You were taught to shoot or be shot
all before you could shave

The ones closest to you
They are only there because they amuse you.
At the very least
they pose not threat

I know you.

I use to see you in the mirror everyday
When I thought
and believed
life was a battle

One day
I was shown that it was truly
A gift

The only true competition I ever had
won long ago’
Only because I did not know
I was in a battle with them.

One day
I looked in the mirror and saw
the one I was
Was not who I am.

One day
I saw me.

©Christopher F. Brown 2010


I didn’t turn my back on you
You showed me your true face

I came close enough to see it was a mask

The closer I came
I saw maggots
Coming from underneath it
Falling down to the ground

I saw the smile you painted on it

Where the eyes should be
there were only dark
and possibly endless

There’s a stench which
can’t be hidden so well

I know it’s a mask

So why are you mad at me
for saying so?

© Christopher F. Brown 2010



In my presence
do you brandish your teeth
spread your tail feathers


Do you feel the need
to compete
and compare


By measuring me
or someway
could or would explain
something about you

Is the only way you know to feel tall
is by cutting off the heads of those around you

Is the definition of your strength
only comprehended in the weakness of others
(as you see them to be)

You only win
that someone else might lose
Because you just love the game

If you can not compete
If you can not win
If you think the threat too great

You belittle the whole thing
You say it was nothing
You say it never really meant anything anyway
You define its worth
You have set it as less

You can only be “THE”
Never just “A”

Its all part of being a man
Is what you think

How would you know?

In the production you call manhood
The role of manliest man
The one whose blood and sweat is unfiltered machismo
Is rehearsed daily
By a Small

© Christopher F. Brown 2010

Eagle Amongst Swans


Did I follow your will
or did I ask you to bless mine?

Have I been seeking and betting on your divine insurance
to cover the choices I’ve made
or have I merely taken comfort
in the divinely insured choices you have made
for my life?

Is it some trial
which gives reason to the constant discomfort
in this new place?

Was it that I asked you to follow me here
Instead of listening
And going
When you told me to go there?

The devil has no:
Or scheme
That is
Or ever will be
Than the blood,
Your blood
That I’m covered in

I’ve even spit on the devils name
Laughed in his face
And to add insult to injury
Danced when it rains

I knew
With your help
Nothing that will ever come my way
Will ever be more that I can bear.

Why is it that they claim the warmth of your love
But the truth of their touch is as cold as the dead?
The gift you gave me
That lets me see their hearts bursting
And over flowing with love
Is also the gift that confuses me.

That gift you gave me
Shows me that
Towards me
The overflow
The explosion
Not even a drop do I receive


Did I come and do what you intended
Or was this never supposed to be

Your plan
And love
Is what I seek

This place that I’m in
These people I’m around
We all claim your name

Why do I feel uncomfort?

In the midst of them
Do I feel you are my only friend?

In their company
Do I feel as strange
More awkward and out of place
As an eagle amongst swans?

We are all your children
We all love you
So why do I feel like the redheaded one
Not allowed to share
And said to be equal the same
But still alone.

©Christopher F. Brown 2010

Thursday, March 11, 2010

I wont complain

I won’t complain about how…

Nope, see that right there is the trick.

That’s the preverbal carrot on the stick.

Telling you what it is that I won’t complain about is just the backdoor.
The patio entrance.
The initial inhale before the sneeze.

I release them.
Into the sea and to be forgotten.

I tell them to take their:
headaches, Backaches, upset stomachs,
and any other physical manifestations that meditative worry brings.

I won’t complain

A pastor once told me that it was speaking the devil’s language.

I’ll take it one step further and say that it prayer directed to him.

Negating every positive thing that
Could happen
Would happen
Or was about to happen.

Nope, I won’t complain.

©Christopher F. Brown 2010

Cherry blossom/Sakura

Cherry blossom

In the season of desolation
In the time of less

You not only survive
where others would unquestionably

You demonstrate and parade
Pinks so subtle
Reds and burgundies so deep

As if to make the grey sky
And white ground jealous

You remind us of the time passed
You remind us to hope for the future.

Cherry blossom

©Christopher F. Brown 2010

The Comforter

If I let you into my mind
Would you understand
Would you even try?

On my walks
Late night
And or
Early morning
God is at my right hand
And my left

After the pleasantries are over
The lip services are done
All the conversations that stop when I enter the room

God is still there telling me I’m ok.

Maybe I’m just meant to walk with him.
I know that if anyone understands
He does.

The uncomfortable vibes
The shallow looks

God is right there when I say,

“did you see that?”

He tells me not to worry,
He is there with me
And he always will be.

In the end
I know
With whom
And where
I belong

©Christopher F. Brown 2010

The Bridge

The Bridge

Sea and Rock
form wave
creating and Destroying

Sun breaks through cloud
Cloud covers the sun
creating shades of Gray.

Like the shore birds
we make haste
pedaling our feet in one world
all the while
on the top of another

Beneath the surface
life continues

Wherever there is a Bridge
We begin to see

©Christopher F. Brown 2010
Blog Widget by LinkWithin

Pen to Paper & Finger to Key © 2008. Design by: Pocket