Monday, March 26, 2012

Update

Updated the website: 9 new poems and new blog entry. Check it out if you likehttp://www.cfbrown.com/

Technorati Tags:

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Naraku

 

Chicken pills and hundred dollar bills

The pursuit of material gain

Is going to kill you

 

You'll die and go to heaven

You'll die and finally have rest

 

Profit

is what made it happen

Profit

Is what did you in

 

Chicken pills and hundred dollar bills

The pursuit of material gain

Is going to kill you

 

Heart attack

Stroke

It wasn't from fat

It was from fear

Fear of being broke

 

Forty-five years then you’ll retire

 

Do something different

Make something new

Get all the money

I never said it was bad

 

How does your soul feel

 

When was the last time

Anything

Touched you

Can you finally

Throw away your heart

 

Chicken pills and hundred dollar bills

The pursuit of material gain

Has killed you

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2012

Technorati Tags: ,,

 

Thursday, March 15, 2012

कवि

kiv

 

A poet is more than a master of words

But a weaver of the meaning behind them

 

A poet understands the power that the sounds and syllables holds

when spoken

 

A poet understands the effect that the letter and line possesses

When read

 

Casting spells upon the psyche

Penetrating directly to the targeted core

 

A poet does not write to or for an audience

A poet does not speak to entertain

 

A poet's purpose is the soul

A poet's goal is the mind

 

To communicate on a level where physicality must be abandoned and your mind and soul must ascend

 

A poet is more than a fiery voice speaking of injustice

 more than a tender pen lamenting on lost love

 

A poet sculpts the very air their body's breaths into art

For generations long after they are gone to rejoice over

Or

 to scoff at

 

A poet is a being that is

For a time

Tethered to flesh

Tethered to this world

 

Sent here to connect us to

Things higher than the feeble ponderings of mans mortal mind

 

Sent here to make us feel

Things more deeply

More intensely

than the fickle mass of flesh men call a heart

 

A poet speaks for the spirit's ear to hear

A poet writes for the soul's eye to see

 

A poet is a wielder of a sacred art that is more than any of its

Forms

Tools

Or tricks can clearly express 

 

A poet is nothing more than a servant to the gift given to them and its giver

 

Their duty

to commune in the realm

Inside of thought

Inside of feeling

And take you on a voyage

Beyond

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2012

Technorati Tags: ,,,

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Salt and Slugs

 

You rail against

left/right

 

It is proper to have a stand

It is proper to know where

 

Do you understand why

 

Its the difference between

Blind devotion

And

Grounded faith

 

You don't have to explain it to me

Nor should you anyone

You do

Or at least

You should understand it

For self

 

Why do you believe

 

If you can't answer that

 

Look in the mirror

Stop standing on it

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2012

 

Sunday, March 11, 2012

More

 

What I want

Is what I give

 

What I have

Is what I offer

 

What I expect

Is what your actions prove

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2012

Technorati Tags: ,,

Monday, March 5, 2012

Authenticity

 

I see you

 

Trying to be different

Trying to have different thoughts

Trying to have different talks

 

You go so far as to change the shoes on your feet to something unbearable

Hoping

It will change your walk

 

You learn the ways of a far off land

Not understanding

Or questioning

Your own

 

Joining the most minuscule group

Rejecting the masses

Without comprehension of

Fad

 

You enlighten yourself with

The way

And that is good

While blinding yourself to sense and reason

Basic fairness and equality that

Your way

Teaches

 

You say its

Devotion

 

I'm surprised

No one ever told you

There is nothing

Nothing

As unique

As you

 

©Christopher F. Brown 2012

 

Saturday, March 3, 2012

I said too much

 

 

There are times when I want to cry

But the tears wont come out

 

It hurts is so much

The pain is so bad

It steals from me

It leaves no room for them

 

There are times when the tears start

Randomly

Infront of the wrong people

In the wrong places

they wont stop

 

Once

A few years ago

They flowed like a river

breaking its banks

 

I couldn’t stop

 

They wouldn’t obey

 

I'm stronger now

 

©Christopher f. brown 2012

Technorati Tags: ,
Blog Widget by LinkWithin
 


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