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christopher-davis
christopher-davis
American Writing poetry has helped me through some dark times and proven to be something I was destined for
Some like to call it the edge The event horizon over which we peer into our own personal voids of Emptiness, darkness, nothingness. Gravity so strong no thought escapes Stare too deep and you drown type rifts. I’ve always thought it more like standing on train tracks Watching the 8 am express race the sun Barreling towards you Closer and closer Faster and faster Stopping abruptly inches from your face. Everything stops. Wind, water, wings All frozen in time as perfect statues of themselves. You dare not move. Existence could ripple through the air and set into motion a chain of events That culminates with you painting the underside of 22 cars. But standing still is just as disastrous. At any time time may catch up with itself And that train may catch up with you. So there you stand Motionless, breathless, soulless, Staring down iron and steel, Somehow trapped beyond the laws of man and reality Contemplating the consequences of your next impulse. Meanwhile, The train has already hit you. Your friends and family have arrived at the scene And begun taking care of you The way paramedics do for broken people, Gently. Somehow you survived But that train took a part of you with it. Every morning is the same, 8 AM Suspended in time between the tracks Staring down fate Daring yourself to move Because for some reason, In your mind, That train still hasn’t hit you yet And today Is another chance To get out of the way. -A letter to myself from the other side
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Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 4:53 PM UTC
Waiting For A Train
It's strange just how strong loss can make you How deep into hell it can take you How hard all that pain tries to break you Having no other place to escape to And yet somehow we still make it through It's strange just how strong loss can make you
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May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
Strength In Loss
Clutch engaged, shift into first Quick, before the pain gets worse Cruise through second, move to third Flew right past without a word Skipping four, go straight to five To see if I am still alive And maybe if I get to six, I'll be way past your foolish tricks
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Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Drive Me Crazy
Tender lips, slender hips Bright red painted fingertips Glide to where her dress unzips And slowly she begins to strip. He feels his heart begin to skip He didn't fall for her, he tripped Yet somehow he would lose his grip Whenever she would dance...
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Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
Entranced
I miss the Summer's rain on my face Replaced by frigid drops of Winter's scorn. Seasons change as torn sheets, erratic and rigid, Become soft and delicate, yet no less unpredictable And I realize Everything is different, but nothing changes.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 4:41 PM UTC
A Realization
The beautiful thing about poetry is that though it's unannounced, you know the meter of the words and how they are pronounced
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May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:58 AM UTC
The Beautiful Thing About Poetry
The early morning's bitter cold reminds me that my soul's been sold for frigid winds I cannot feel, without you here, nothing is real
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May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:55 AM UTC
Empty
There was a lonely starfish who sat upon the shore, he spent all his days dreaming of life on the ocean floor. So as the day grew longer and the starfish began to dry, he couldn't help but think how much he wished to die. But before he gave up hope and the sun had turned to red, he looked up towards the heavens frowned to God and said, "Lord you left me alone, you took me from the sea. I thought you loved me God, why would you leave me?" "My child," God responded, "I'm always by your side, but do not fret my son it's nothing but low tide."
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May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:52 AM UTC
The Lonely Starfish
My mind and heart wage eternal war over which control my actions, my heart resembles an open door and my mind calculates in fractions. My heart makes a decision unbound by the restraints of before, but my mind is full of suspicion and banishes the thought forevermore. This endless battle blinds my sight confusion, saint or sinner? Neither going down without a fight and neither one a winner. In the end I decide who wins the exchanges because war, she never changes.
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May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:51 AM UTC
War Of Love
Star light, Star bright first star in the dead of night how I wish with all my might that you'd come down and give me sight. Show me why my soul's ablaze from pitch black nights to darker days from frigid shoulders to a lovers gaze I'm dying to hear that three word phrase. My world's a mess but I'm slowly learning my body aches, my heart is yearning hell, I can feel my essence burning but like the earth I'll keep on turning
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May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:49 AM UTC
Star Light, Star Bright