Aged

Sometimes

I feel
I have the mind of a young man

The soul of an old one
and
the heart of a child.

I keep the door open to learn new things.
Kicking the junk out the back.

Looking out there
I always have a sense of de ja vue.

The red wings and the blue jays
I know them as good friends.
It’s funny though.
I don’t remember seeing them here before.

When I start to laugh
just for no reason
some think it weird or strange,

But the little ones saw.
They smiled and laughed
just as I did.

©Christopher F. Brown 2010

Technorati Tags: youth,age,young,old,heart,soul,time,aged

The War Is Over

Loudly proclaiming your ignorance
while seeking clandestine moments of clarity.

Suffering
Struggle
Strife

They are all you know.
They have been your bed.
They were the nourishment that sprang from hate’s bosom

They were taught to you by force
They have worked for you out of necessity that later became choice
Therefore,
everyone must follow to the same.

Loudly proclaiming your ignorance
while seeking clandestine moments of clarity.

You learn the secret your teacher never told.

It did not have to be.

The path you chose was revealed.

Well traveled
Well worn
Well known

Only later
at the end of it all
Was it understood

The hardest
The roughest

At the cliff you
Loudly proclaim your ignorance
while seeking clandestine moments of clarity

©Christopher F. Brown

Technorati Tags: pain,suffering,struggle,strife,lies,life

Tingling

Capturing a fleeting glance

I wonder.

How did I come to be here?

I question,

“Why me?”

We all think it.
The brave admit it.

“Where did I fail?”

Sure

If you look at the now
there are many reasons.

If we go way back when
and talk about those times

Back then

All the right words were said.
All the right things were had.
All the right actions were done.

Still

I am here

With only a fleeting glance.

© Christopher F. Brown 2010

Technorati Tags: love,relationships,loss,ex-people

Cautionary tale of Contentment

Howling wind does not move me

 

Raging sea does not shake me

The pit opens beneath me
Yet
I remain

 

Change has no effect on me.
Birth and death are the only I recognize

From my place of strength
I am told of stagnation

 

From my place of power
I am shown weakness

From the place were
I can not be
and will not be
moved

I realize

I’ve long forgotten about the fall.

 

© Christopher F. Brown 2010

Technorati Tags: change,stagnation,stubborn,contentment

Smoke & Mirrors

Confusion

The blight of a conscious mind.

A pox upon a faithful spirit.

able to comprehend
and reason
like nothing else in creation

 

Yet

some say to reason about creation

to ask questions of the creator

is the same
just as kin

as to question the creator.

 

And that is said to be most horrific of a sins.

Confusion

 

We lean not on OUR OWN understanding.
We walk by FAITH and NOT BY SIGHT.

How could we ever get to true understanding if we did not question
the flaws of
and in
OUR OWN
and seek higher than it?

Higher than those around us that claim to know.

 

If told to move
one has to ask

“Where?”

 

otherwise we remain still.

By faith we ask
By faith we receive
By faith we walk.

 

Confusion

not question

 

is the enemy of faith

 

Confusion

not question

 

opens the door for ignorance and doubt.

Confusion is the dark
Question is the door leading the way
Faith is the answer that brings understanding and revelation.

 

The light is not blissful ignorance but a faithful knowing
to any question
we receive
a faithful answer

All will be made clear
seek and you will find
knock and the door will be opened

 

Ask and it will be given to you.

© Christopher F. Brown 2010

Technorati Tags: god,faith,christian,questions,confusion,understanding

Urban Boy

Sometimes
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.

Sometimes
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.

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

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

Sometimes
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

Technorati Tags: jazz,spring,night,water,river,trees,eucalyptus,urban,boy

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

Technorati Tags: newness,life,new,old soul

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
sanity.
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

Alone?

©Christopher F. Brown 2009

Technorati Tags: solitude

D.N.A

In spite of present pain
future frustration

Do you still smile?

In the face of Danger
Disaster
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

Technorati Tags: god,jesus,blood,salvation,christian

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

Technorati Tags: love,relationships,heartache

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

Technorati Tags: god,understanding,ants,greatness,meekness

Melodious

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

Technorati Tags: jazz,love,music

2.3

Darkness retreats to the background in your presence

Becoming canvas for whatever you desire

 

Tonight,

This cold night

 

From high above

you glow

If I could reach

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

 

Tonight

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

 

Tonight

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

 

Tonight

This cold night

 

Your light shines on and through me

What they do

Can not stand in your path

 

Tonight

This cold night

 

I have no thought of fear

No feeling of shame.

 

©Christopher F Brown 2010

Technorati Tags: christian,faith,night,darkness,light

Suicide Letter of an Empath

Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it all.

Standing firm when the grass looks like it would be so comfortable.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it all.

If they knew that I felt their anxiety the same
Felt their pain the same
See their unease as clearly as I see my own.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it all

Would you fain uncertainty and force your smile if you knew I knew?

The raven flies high in one world
even though those closest to him in another try to clip his wings.

The man in the boat
In the middle of the flood
Sticks his hand out to save the drowning strangers.
Instead of getting in the boat they all pull him out to drown with them

Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it all

If you truly knew
I feel as you feel
As if it was and the same as my own.

If you knew my heart aches as yours
My anger rises as yours
My delight is ecstatic as yours

My soul cries with yours
as your shining, happy, lying face spins its tale.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it all

When I know how deeply
How truthfully
How intensely
They will never understand

Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it all.

©Christopher F. Brown 2010

For A Reason

You ask me

Why did I love them?

Defensively I turn
and ask
What
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
Fear
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.
Collectively
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.

Life
Love
and time
are too precious to me to waste.

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

© Christopher F. Brown 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

Yeah
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

Janus

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
holes

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

Bravado

Why

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

Why

Do you feel the need
to compete
contend
and compare

Why

By measuring me
somehow
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
Never
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
And
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
Little
Boy

© Christopher F. Brown 2010

Eagle Amongst Swans

Lord

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:
Power
Trick
Or scheme
That is
Or ever will be
Greater
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

Lord

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

Your plan
Will
Instruction
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?

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

Why
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

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