Monday, October 31, 2011

I did not end up with the guy

i did not end up with the guy that was my first friend

I did not end up with the guy i had a crush on in Jr High

I did not end up with the guy i had a crush on in High School

I did not end up with the guy I had a crush on in College

I did not end up with the guy I had a crush on in the office

I did not end up with the guy I had a crush on at the coffee shop

I did not end up with the guy i had a crush on that lived down the street

I did not end up with the guy I had a crush on that use to be my straight friend but came out and has been dating my other friend

I did not end up with the guy I had a crush on that was younger than me

I did not end up with the guy I had a crush on that was older than me

I did not end up with the guys that had a crush on me

I did not end up with any of the guys that were my ex’s

I did not end up with any guy

I decided

maybe

I should have a crush on me.

© Christopher F. Brown 2011

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Sunday, October 30, 2011

The City

What if cities were wildlife preserves for humans

 

The only specimens that exists there

Are ones that are going or went

extinct in the wild

 

What if cities were wildlife preserves for humans

 

San Francisco

New York

Oakland

LA

All places where people are born and reared

Into captivity

 

Going somewhere else

Traveling the world

The same as escaping into the wild

 

Some of us are too rare

Some of us have forgotten how to adapt

Some of us were already at the brink

Some of us are the last

 

What if cities were wildlife preserves for humans

 

The city

 

Some say they can’t make.

 

Some don’t know

 

It’s the only place they can survive.

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2011

 

 

Thursday, October 27, 2011

I Am a Citizen

I am a citizen

 

Some official

that I did not vote for

That I did not elect

Wants to change that

 

They want to replace the constitution

And its amendments

With

Corporate by-laws

H&R edict

 

I am a citizen

 

I do not want my:

Block

City

County

District

State

Or

Country

Ran as a business

 

My worth is not

And should not

Be determine and measured by

How much wealth I accumulate and or spend

I refuse to be viewed and used as if

By mere birth

Some public pretender had the right to say

I owe something

 

My contribution to society is not

And should not

Be determined and measured by

A 1040 form

No matter how difficult or

EZ

 

I am a citizen

 

The protectors

Never have protected

Me

Or my kind

 

The leader(s) of the crooked company(ies) with the malleable morality(ies)

Took their crooked and despicable ways

To a peoples public puppet office

With an already bent view

Seeking power on a grandiose scale

 

I am a citizen

 

My rights are slowly

Being taken away

 

They are trying to

Force me

To give up the rest

 

They made a law

Telling me not to say

 

Citizen

 

Instead I must say

 

Consumer

 

I Am

 

A

 

Citizen

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2011

Monday, October 24, 2011

I'm Addicted

I wanna say

 

Art

 

Is my addiction

 

Reaching for my pen

Is

Gong for a pipe

 

Putting paint on a brush

Is

Putting dope in a needle

 

I get so high

Only other addicts understand

 

Art

 

The act of

Creating or recreating something beautiful

Inspired by inspiration and continuing the continuity of

flow

 

Man I’m hooked.

 

Like any good addict

I don’t wanna come down.

 

I feel it in my soul

It’s in my veins

Trying to break free

Trying to match that genetic lock

With some form of expression

being the key

 

Receptors open

Waiting

For divine epiphany

 

Inaudible voices speak words in my ears

Intangible forces control my hands

 

I’m trippin

Right?

 

The rush of endorphins I get when the muse gives me a hit

The euphoric trance I get while in the middle of writing chapter one

The ecstatic state when I finally mix the perfect shade and tone

 

 it’s Art and I know

 

I’m Addicted  

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2011

 

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Lessons in Virtue

"This is a ROUGH ROUGH draft excerpt of a new story Im working on, grammar and punctuation have not been edited; hence the double rough, Some of you prolly remember these characters. Reading this do you want to read more? let me know what you think, content wise."

Virtue heard the knocking at the door but thought it was part of his dream. He chose to ignore it and see if he could drift back into that special sleep he had become friend to for so long now. The phone now began to ring. This he could not ignore, he had to wake and see who it was and then he could resume his former bliss.

 

He unconsciously, or maybe consciously, wanting to speak with someone, answered the phone.

 

"Hello"

 

"Man, come open the door."

 

"Who is this?"

 

"Don't play with me dude, it looks like it’s about to rain."

 

The sleepy fog began to rapidly retreat. He abandoned all hope of returning to his peaceful sleep. Virtue recognized Horus’ voice as he hung up the phone and put on his bathrobe, making his way to the door. Virtue not only let in Horus, but he also let in the diffused, refracted light that fought past the heavy grey cumulus clouds. Horus was not affected by the clutter, or the stale stench surrounding him. This let Virtue know that whatever followed, whatever came next was serious.

 

“I have some coffee if you want some. It’s not the freshest.”

 

“Yeah man, I’m good.”

 

Virtue poured himself a cup of the two-day-old coffee and added enough sugar to drown out the bitterness.

 

“So what’s up man?” Virtue asked while he sat down in the chair and took his first sip.

 

“I won’t beat around the bush. I sold the company. Morbes came to me and offered me twice what they were worth, then they offered me triple for what the company was worth. It was a sweet ass deal. How could I say no? They wanted to keep the name of the company because of its reputation, and you know that’s all because of you, and that’s why I’m really here.

 

Hours reached inside his coat pocket and handed Virtue a folded slip of paper.

 

“It’s a check for 40 g’s man. It’s what you would have made in a year, plus a raise, sick and vaca pay, and something extra.”

 

This, in collaboration with the caffeine taking effect fully activated Virtue’s senses. He had held a job ever since he was fifteen no matter the situation. The idea of being unemployed had always seemed to be equated with failure. The idea of having forty thousand dollars in the bank, at one time, how much of a failure could one be at that point?

“What am I supposed to say?” Virtue uttered quickly as the cup left his lips.

©Christopher F. Brown 2011

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Saturday, October 15, 2011

Funhouse Mirrors in the Street

 Funhouse Mirrors in the Street

 

Something material

might

Take hold of my interest

 

But like all things ephemeral

It won't last

 

I'm So

Sick and tired

Of giving you my time to you

All you care about:

 

"What can I get out of him today?

Will it be better than yesterday?

 

How can I give him my least

In return

He'll give me his most?"

 

Its hard

Living this reality

It

Being proof of another universe's theory.

 

Smart enough to know

Better than that

 

Experienced enough to

Have been down the wrong road a few

 

Still scratching my head

Still looking

 

What's wrong for me

Its also

Wrong to you

 

Confusion sets in

 

What works

What seems right for me

Is totally Wrong

For you

 

Maybe

Ill stop looking at you.

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2011

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Waking from a Daydream

Waking from a Daydream 

You are that vision of physical perfection 
A specimen of the highest caliber 

But 
It doesn't mean anything 

Physically 
I am not what you seek 

You are at that spiritual height where 
your smile heals 
your soul reflects divine light and guides your way 

But 
It doesn't mean anything 

Your way 
Is not directed towards mine 
Your smile 
Is not meant for my wounds 

You are that one whom possesses a mind to unravel mysteries and the wisdom to keep some as such 

But 
It doesn't mean anything 

Your mental mastery 
Was never meant to coalesce with mine 
Your wisdom 
Was never meant to share a seat in the same school of thought as mine 

On every level 

Mentally 
Physically 
Even spiritually 

It doesn't mean anything 
You weren't meant for me. 

©Christopher F. Brown 2011

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