Saturday, September 29, 2012

End Game

End Game

Tightly curled within,
your grains of granite press eyes
and ears and my mouth
as if I shall be
buried here just forever,
a sentence pronounced
in all your sternness
for my poor showing this time.
I still do maintain
my inner posture
willing to tell all the world
of my devotion.

‎September ‎29, ‎2012 8:50 AM


  1. "just forever"

    "And you can’t hear me yet, listening takes a long, long time.
    And I’ve so much to tell, but words die on these lips of mine.
    But in the stillness you may sense everything I long to say,
    Unraveling like golden threads, the walls will all come down this way"
    -Mary Chapin Carpenter

    Very beautiful poem Christopher. Just forever. Wow. I'll be thinking on that awhile.

  2. Thank you for sharing Mary, one of my favorites. I have several albums. I don't listen to music much these days, oddly. I don't know why. I sit down and toy with my keyboard sometimes. Yes, just forever. Not just forever, but just forever if you understand. Forever rectified, made right. Changed. Made just by he who can do such things. Or some other way entirely...

  3. This screams of individuality and perseverance and I love it. Nothing like a person who is himself/herself, even if holding on to that puts him/her at the edge of conventionality. I take it back, I love it because of that ;-)

    1. Thank you, I think. The trouble with this posture is of course that others turn away for the most part. I understand that experience and think it mostly sucks because the only people who don't turn away are the odd ducks too. I guess that'll do in a pinch. I remember making a decision after my whole teenage years experience of failure trying to get "them" all to like me that I would "turn into the skid" so to speak. I would embrace my strangeness. It didn't work out exactly better. Shortly after that I found dope and the dope freaks. They had all done the same thing.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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