Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Urban Boy

on wet spring nights

I like to go for walks
maybe, sometimes, rides
listening to jazz without my glasses on.

The aftermath of forgotten rain.

The onset of a slightly odd but gentile fog
puts the world into my everyday perspective

No need for clarification.

on wet spring nights

I like to go for walks
maybe, sometimes, rides
listening to jazz without my glasses on.

You came smell the sent of Eucalyptus,
pine even
clearer than any other time.

Streetlights reflecting on the endless black asphalt
while run off empties into gutters.

they are the closest to a river some will ever know.

As kids we would race bottle caps.
The first to disappear ironically won.

on wet spring nights

I like to go for walks
maybe, sometimes, rides
listening to jazz without my glasses on.

I go in when the song is over.

In spring the rain stops
but you never know
when it decides to rain again.

©Christopher F. Brown 2010

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Waiting for an Old Soul

This place.

Nothing is old.

If there were
it would stick out like a chick from its shell.

This place.

It has a soul
It has a spirit
But it does not speak.

It can not speak
it does not have a voice yet.
It has no story to tell.

This place.

No spirits dwell here.
No great joy,
No humbling sorrow.

These walls have never vibrated from passion filled nights
echoed from early morning fights.
The very ground itself would tear away that which is too weak.

This place.

Nothing is old.

If anything was you would have to listen.
You would have no choice but to hear.
It would scream so softly only your soul could perceive.

This place.

©Christopher F. Brown 2009

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Thursday, May 6, 2010

Shadows Mumbling in the Fog

Have you ever felt like
you woke up
and were surrounded by fog?

In that fog
you saw shadows of things and people
and heard sounds the same,
but when you reached out,
to touch,
to feel,
you could not.

When you strained to listen
because you could only hear,
you still could not comprehend.

How do you relate to a shadow?

How do you explain sounds unclear?

I think it would make you question yours
and the definition of
Just to make sure you and it matched.

I think it would make you question
maybe you were the shadow.
But then it would be up to you to determine true or faux.
Asking a shadow that you can’t hear if you are the same does not make sense.

Maybe they are surrounded by the same fog,
maybe the same mist.

To them
you are the mumbling shadow;
you might not really exist.

Have you ever felt like you understood


©Christopher F. Brown 2009

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Tuesday, May 4, 2010


In spite of present pain
future frustration

Do you still smile?

In the face of Danger
And that which would bring desolation
Do you laugh
maybe even dance?

In the midst of chaos
Corruption and confusion

Do you remain
Calm, cool and collective?

When it presses upon your back
To the point near break

When it stands at the very gates of your soul
Ready to capture your mind
claim your body as it’s very own

Do you not fear?

Knowing to whom the temple truly belongs.

When everything is gone
Time has pulled away
The same as the ocean pulls the sand

Will you know who you are?
Will you understand who I am?

You are my sons and daughters

The blood that flows in your veins
The blood that freed every captive
Made clean every stain
is the very same blood that warms your body
And opens your mouth to sing

It is my blood that is in you

It commands you to dance
Especially in the rain.


© Christopher F. Brown 2010

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Thrown out the window

I’ve spent many years learning the rules
only for you to come along and confuse them.

Experience has shown me
the words you say
the things you do
all point to one
but somehow
you add up and factor out as two.

I differ to the rules,
remember what I learned in doing but still
there is no mention
no chapter
not even a footnote on you.

Maybe I just live in a world set by rules only I live by.

It could be that you have poked a hole in my box
and my thoughts are escaping.

Whatever it is

I don’t understand this thing.

I don’t understand you.

©Christopher F. Brown 2009

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Contemplating God or Anthill

I know this might sound silly
Coming from us what really doesn’t.

The other day an ant crawled across my finger tip

I lifted it up to a place where I could better see it.

As its little antenna’s moved back and forth I wondered
Could its microscopic mind comprehend me?

For all of its social skills
For all of its building talents
A mere ant and all of anthood is nothing
in comparison
To man and all of manhood

I watched it move
From fingertip to fingertip
In comparison
it would be like me
Moving from mountain top
to mountain top

I wonder

With all we think we know
Can we
Could we
Would we

Ever be able to fully
Comprehend you?

©Christopher F. Brown 2010


Emanating from the speakers

waltzing with air, around it spins for a moment

then to lay at rest in my ear.


It’s dreams passes through my heart and lungs as heavy smoke

finding my soul it deeply impresses.


Lingering long enough for me to be intrigued

lasting long enough for me to more than hear but listen

accompanying my soul if only long enough for it to smile.


When realization sets in

when understanding of what’s happening,

when what’s going on takes full hold.


The song is over.

Melodious has gone

the mood has passed.


It is time for a new song.


©Christopher F. Brown 2009

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Darkness retreats to the background in your presence

Becoming canvas for whatever you desire



This cold night


From high above

you glow

If I could reach

I’m sure You would be the warmth I’m seeking



This cold night


A light mist falls in front of you

Extending your reach

Dancing and bending

Your rays reach down to me

Amongst And Between

The dark



This cold night


Shadows in valleys collect in mass against you

Against the thought of you

Against even a rumor of the thought of you



This cold night


Your light shines on and through me

What they do

Can not stand in your path



This cold night


I have no thought of fear

No feeling of shame.


©Christopher F Brown 2010

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