chris-tyler-young - Hello Poetry

And the world raged around me turned everything I knew into spray, stung my face. Howled into the wind howling back But Jesus never came for me Held up no hand to stop this storm so I held Myself Rocked and cried and rocked and cried Held myself to the promise of sunrises uncertain Gathered the wreckage of my being and kept going But Jesus never came for me

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Mar 3, 2020

Mar 3, 2020 at 11:46 AM UTC

Sea of Galilee

And the world raged around me turned everything I knew into spray, stung my face. Howled into the wind howling back But Jesus never came for me Held up no hand to stop this storm so I held Myself Rocked and cried and rocked and cried Held myself to the promise of sunrises uncertain Gathered the wreckage of my being and kept going But Jesus never came for me

14

I cannot yet Convince my tongue to say What is so clearly written in my eyes. Fingers have traced it on your body. Arms have draped it over your tired shoulders. Heart has sang it as you laid your weary head on my chest But... I know that is not enough. You hunger To hear my lips say those words back to you and I Am starving you.

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Dec 3, 2018

Dec 3, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC

Silence

I cannot yet Convince my tongue to say What is so clearly written in my eyes. Fingers have traced it on your body. Arms have draped it over your tired shoulders. Heart has sang it as you laid your weary head on my chest But... I know that is not enough. You hunger To hear my lips say those words back to you and I Am starving you.

10

Don't you dare Call yourself my potter When it was your hands Feet Words Presence in my life That caused the fractures in my being that I Had to fill with gold.

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Aug 16, 2018

Aug 16, 2018 at 8:45 PM UTC

Kintsugi

Don't you dare Call yourself my potter When it was your hands Feet Words Presence in my life That caused the fractures in my being that I Had to fill with gold.

9

I watched you practice "goodbye". Shortly after "hello", I watched the corners of your eyes. Saw them shift and squint as your mind planned your escape before I even shook your hand. You set the pace for a dance I knew would soon end. I dreamed of Charlestons and Ragtimes, but you chose to Waltz. So I took my position. Curbed my enthusiasm Lowered my voice Turned welcome kisses into lifeless hugs Box-stepped through shallow conversation while coffees and emotions grew cold Bowed politely when the music stopped - terse smiles our only goodbye.

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Jun 18, 2018

Jun 18, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC

Formality

I watched you practice "goodbye". Shortly after "hello", I watched the corners of your eyes. Saw them shift and squint as your mind planned your escape before I even shook your hand. You set the pace for a dance I knew would soon end. I dreamed of Charlestons and Ragtimes, but you chose to Waltz. So I took my position. Curbed my enthusiasm Lowered my voice Turned welcome kisses into lifeless hugs Box-stepped through shallow conversation while coffees and emotions grew cold Bowed politely when the music stopped - terse smiles our only goodbye.

18

He loved me like he loved the rain. Reveled in the idea of me, ran from my reality. Begged for my monsoons to replenish barren lands - starving for affection. So I gathered myself up - pulled intimacy from the depths of my seas. Let it billow in my chest until, too heavy for me to bear, I poured myself empty. But he ran. Hid behind double-paned, shatterproof glassy eyes. I poured and raged and begged for him to let me in. But he stayed safe in his silence until my storm had passed and I was left dripping - pleading hands and tear stained kisses beaded up and rolled off his facade - collecting in puddles at his feet.

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Apr 10, 2018

Apr 10, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC

Pluviophile

He loved me like he loved the rain. Reveled in the idea of me, ran from my reality. Begged for my monsoons to replenish barren lands - starving for affection. So I gathered myself up - pulled intimacy from the depths of my seas. Let it billow in my chest until, too heavy for me to bear, I poured myself empty. But he ran. Hid behind double-paned, shatterproof glassy eyes. I poured and raged and begged for him to let me in. But he stayed safe in his silence until my storm had passed and I was left dripping - pleading hands and tear stained kisses beaded up and rolled off his facade - collecting in puddles at his feet.

26

My mother spelled my name with a storm - made the first syllable lightning second syllable of wind and rain third syllable of thunder's distant roar. My mother made my name tectonic. Each syllable cacophonous - the subsequent more than the former - slamming continental tongues into the mantles of teeth. My mother made my name as immutable as the laws of gravity - catches hold of your ear and refuses to let go unless acted on by an equal and opposite force. My mother spelled my name with power - bound it to the core of my being with love - marched me into the World and with all the power left in her declared, "This is my son in whom I am well pleased".

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Jun 30, 2017

Jun 30, 2017 at 2:32 PM UTC

Christening

My mother spelled my name with a storm - made the first syllable lightning second syllable of wind and rain third syllable of thunder's distant roar. My mother made my name tectonic. Each syllable cacophonous - the subsequent more than the former - slamming continental tongues into the mantles of teeth. My mother made my name as immutable as the laws of gravity - catches hold of your ear and refuses to let go unless acted on by an equal and opposite force. My mother spelled my name with power - bound it to the core of my being with love - marched me into the World and with all the power left in her declared, "This is my son in whom I am well pleased".

25

I held onto every word - Every **** you" Every "worthless" Every "stupid" Every "I love you" - And hung them in the rafters of my memories - next to love spoiled I could never give you - to dry. Left them to roast in the corners of my heart. Rinsed them with my tears and let the aroma of grief swirl around my being. I held onto every word - Every **** you" Every "worthless" Every "stupid" Every "I love you" - So the next time we met I could offer you a cup of my grief. Steep your bitter words in my own tears watch as your words soured on your tongue and you struggled to swallow so you could breathe again. But I switched cups. Gave you honey and lavender and drank every word - Every **** you" Every "worthless" Every "stupid" Every "I love you" - and soothed my own soul.

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Jan 31, 2017

Jan 31, 2017 at 11:44 AM UTC

Tea House

I held onto every word - Every **** you" Every "worthless" Every "stupid" Every "I love you" - And hung them in the rafters of my memories - next to love spoiled I could never give you - to dry. Left them to roast in the corners of my heart. Rinsed them with my tears and let the aroma of grief swirl around my being. I held onto every word - Every **** you" Every "worthless" Every "stupid" Every "I love you" - So the next time we met I could offer you a cup of my grief. Steep your bitter words in my own tears watch as your words soured on your tongue and you struggled to swallow so you could breathe again. But I switched cups. Gave you honey and lavender and drank every word - Every **** you" Every "worthless" Every "stupid" Every "I love you" - and soothed my own soul.

35

I tried making home of other men. Front doors of their sternums Two story foyers of their torsos and porcelain stairs of their ribs. Tracked myself in and out of their memories looking for space for my baggage. Had conversations with my echos as I screamed I LOVE YOU into hollow atriums. Made my bed on diaphragms and felt each draft of inhale exhale pieces of me to...somewhere. I tried making home of other men. Hang memories on occipital lobes Affix my name to Broca's areas so the world knew I found home in another man. I am tired of making home in other men. Foundations thought solid grow legs and wander way out yonder Take my memories and love leaving me nothing but my empty. I am tired of making home in other men. Tending hedges shining floors and making welcome for those deemed worthy of home - not me. I am tired of making home in other men so I will make home in myself. Put my hands on every crack lay smooth my rough edges and plant beauty in my own yard. I am tired of making homes for other men, so I will make this home for me.

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Nov 14, 2016

Nov 14, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC

Symphony #10: The Help's Chorus

I tried making home of other men. Front doors of their sternums Two story foyers of their torsos and porcelain stairs of their ribs. Tracked myself in and out of their memories looking for space for my baggage. Had conversations with my echos as I screamed I LOVE YOU into hollow atriums. Made my bed on diaphragms and felt each draft of inhale exhale pieces of me to...somewhere. I tried making home of other men. Hang memories on occipital lobes Affix my name to Broca's areas so the world knew I found home in another man. I am tired of making home in other men. Foundations thought solid grow legs and wander way out yonder Take my memories and love leaving me nothing but my empty. I am tired of making home in other men. Tending hedges shining floors and making welcome for those deemed worthy of home - not me. I am tired of making home in other men so I will make home in myself. Put my hands on every crack lay smooth my rough edges and plant beauty in my own yard. I am tired of making homes for other men, so I will make this home for me.

38

In the beginning, We were Pangea. Combined as one Breathing Living Loving as one. Fingers drew rivers Across our valleys As quick breaths Blew in like Monsoon storms. In the middle, We shook. Splintered Valleys became chasms Rivers ran dry Mountains sprang up Where our bodies Crashed and crumpled Attempting to redraw And redefine boundaries. In the end, We were broken. Pieces of ourselves Flung to distant Corners of our Subconscious Separated by oceans Of tears and Silence, which swallowed Everything.

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Jul 2, 2016

Jul 2, 2016 at 4:42 PM UTC

Symphony #9: Waltz Tectonic

In the beginning, We were Pangea. Combined as one Breathing Living Loving as one. Fingers drew rivers Across our valleys As quick breaths Blew in like Monsoon storms. In the middle, We shook. Splintered Valleys became chasms Rivers ran dry Mountains sprang up Where our bodies Crashed and crumpled Attempting to redraw And redefine boundaries. In the end, We were broken. Pieces of ourselves Flung to distant Corners of our Subconscious Separated by oceans Of tears and Silence, which swallowed Everything.

30

IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT! Those three words. Left my body frozen in place as my mind raced for a response. Your eyes searched mine - like hounds for a fox - Chased me through thickets and tunnels and brush. Left no stone unturned nor stream uncrossed in your search. IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT! Those three words. Snatched me from my stupor and left me face-to-face with the muzzle of your emotions. Loaded and cocked, I could see your tongue ready to pull the trigger. IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT! Those three words. Couldn't hear myself think or feel anything other than my lips mouth those three words. Last thing I remember is your sinister, sweet smile claiming your reward - my lifeless body- after unloading the final shot... "I love you" IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT! Those three words.

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Apr 1, 2016

Apr 1, 2016 at 10:51 AM UTC

Symphony #8: The Huntsman's Charge

IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT! Those three words. Left my body frozen in place as my mind raced for a response. Your eyes searched mine - like hounds for a fox - Chased me through thickets and tunnels and brush. Left no stone unturned nor stream uncrossed in your search. IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT! Those three words. Snatched me from my stupor and left me face-to-face with the muzzle of your emotions. Loaded and cocked, I could see your tongue ready to pull the trigger. IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT! Those three words. Couldn't hear myself think or feel anything other than my lips mouth those three words. Last thing I remember is your sinister, sweet smile claiming your reward - my lifeless body- after unloading the final shot... "I love you" IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT! Those three words.

33