You're not in my computer,
But you are on my screen,
So if I type that I love you
You know what I mean.
You're not in my house,
But you are in my room,
So if I type that I hold you,
It's to brighten my gloom.
You're not in my garden,
But you are in my flowers,
So if I type that I watch you,
It's for hours and hours.
You're not in my radio,
But you are in my song,
So if I type that I need you,
It's because we belong.
You're not in my body,
But you are in my whole,
So if I type that I want you,
You are holding my soul.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
Within a mere winds wisp
from the henge,
It stands, majestic.
Built by calloused hands,
Of stone pillar, carved
By centuries of raging Usk,
to rise above Isca Silurum.
The cambion desires and dreams,
Realised by this last enchantment.
Within a mere winds wisp
from the henge,
It falls, forlorn.
Razed by calloused hands,
To jealous rocks, wasted
By centuries of cooling Usk,
to lay beside Isca Silurum.
Staring at catherderal skies
over nights of firefly summer.
Two jacks, used.
I forgive my Camelot.
Oct 1, 2011
Oct 1, 2011 at 5:12 PM UTC
Hard river you never smile at me,
but I don't cry,
two thousand hearts held back a tear,
but I don't try.
You always play my game,
never hear the loud voices
of ritual and ridicule.
never even bothered to look for him,
Given up hope of seeing
the soothing hell fires.
It was a cold, dull morning,
But there must have been a warning.
Wrong time on the clock,
That's the trouble
when they tick but never tock.
They can use their hands
for other work,
Grab at the throat
with spasmodic ****
The last of a kind,
scarred by being trapped
Life-rock for some, Alarming ignorance,
Obsession will come, Sweet sensation.
© christhamF Jul. '11
Jul 25, 2011
Jul 25, 2011 at 3:34 PM UTC
Everything I heard amazed me,
The treasure fleet's sixty two ships,
commanded by a powerful ******
Gone, he was captured,
he was castrated,
three jewels, from a dying Prince.
The Cheng ** had sailed from Malaku Island;
sight of flags, sound of bells,
guided them to Calicut.
Deny the social scientist,
cultural baggage prevails,
abstract freedom, kindling of change.
Moaning monsoon winds linger,
the allure of sparkling moons wax,
and dormant black seas swell.
The noble adventure of death begins,
where the legacy of leadership ends,
and stars trust him with their thoughts.
© christhamF 2011
Jul 3, 2011
Jul 3, 2011 at 11:22 AM UTC
Everything I saw amazed me,
I had become the reluctant crusader,
sifting through mud and mail.
Gone, without the grimace,
sore eyes saw
real money from a dying hand.
The Cheng ** had sailed to Malaku Island;
amidst stacked stone columns,
questions linger with dinosaurs gone.
All that is left for you
will be artillery & rhetoric,
my thrill to the world.
Take my Princess down,
she won't wait while comfort wanes,
and dormant creatures rise.
The priceless adventure of youth begins
where the legacy of leadership ends,
and stars trust her with their fantasies.
© christhamF 2010
Jul 3, 2011
Jul 3, 2011 at 11:17 AM UTC
Only the broken know they’re pieces
Of a giant mosaic.
Therefore the whole think they’re masters
Of a recreation.
Only the losers know they’re soldiers
Of a giant battle.
Therefore the winners think they’re generals
Of a war-game.
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 11:53 AM UTC
Just to see the drawing of yours,
Of yours, for what it means
Can stand for everything beyond
The outstretched hand offered now
Before the Sun.
Just to see the baby of you,
Of you, for what you are
Can be bought by the power
Of powdered trees and refined ore
Beneath the Sun.
Just to see the baby of you,
Of you, for what you need
Can easily be sadly missed
With the increased weight
Beside the Sun.
Just to see the demise of you,
Of you, for what may be
Can be a lifetime coming
And a heartbeat passing
‘Neath the Sun.
Just to bear the cross of you,
Of you, for where it stands
Represents a fire of love
Burnt from ashes of you
In the Sun.
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 11:46 AM UTC
I once had dreams, they wanted answers,
I once asked questions, I wanted answers,
For a logical mind I had to know why,
Answers were everything, I had to try.
Travel a paper trail in a digital world,
Some invisible trail in a fantasy world,
I saw people, all in a line,
I saw people, they all looked fine.
I was down so quick, I was down so far,
I was down too long, I was down too far.
There was almost exanquination,
There was little explanation.
Those long distance voices, voices of past,
Proved their worth, forever they last,
Ride to redemption,
Bittersweet race for one dog boss.
Thirty two days and most were a blur
Tube in my throat, dream people, soft edges,
Ran downhill, past lots of people, Benson wouldn’t let me back in,
They were real – in my dream.
I find it harder to swallow, easier to chew,
If Benson were here she’d know what to do.
I find it harder to choose, easier to see,
If Benson were here she’d know you from me.
I find it harder to write, easier to cry,
If Benson were here she’d know why,
Ride to redemption,
Bittersweet race for my lost soul.
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 5:38 PM UTC
By the slightest margin we cheat death
But if we fall beneath
What shall we find ?
People of our kind ?
Answer no, souls in forms we haven’t seen
Coming from places where we haven’t been
Doing things we haven’t done
Having things we call fun.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to die
I prefer to live, even if it is a lie
But when the time comes I’ll be prepared
To stand and see how I’ve faired
Whilst living, to assess my place
For eternity, wrapped in immortal grace.
Oct 10, 2009
Oct 10, 2009 at 12:17 PM UTC
Why can’t I
Enjoy myself
With time for leisure
Why can’t I
Be bothered
With those mundane tasks
Why can’t I
Be satisfied
Surrounded by material things
Why can’t I
Return love
To One so precious
Why can’t I
Be sure
Of finding the missing piece
Why can’t I ?
Oct 10, 2009
Oct 10, 2009 at 12:16 PM UTC