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Christopher Lowe Dec 2014
I asked the birds
    What's it like to fly
They abruptly replied
    *What's it like to drive
Yep that's what I'm writing for my 100th poem. I like it.
Christopher Lowe Sep 2014
Can you not see what you're doing here
The mirror showing aged despair
A body in disrepair
Why Decay can't you let me be
Please go swiftly, set me free

Don't confuse me with Death my friend
Although he is a friend of mine
Death is eternal
But I am bound by time
I have to see you through to the end

Well please can you call upon your friend
I grow tired of seeing myself age again
So I ask you to please act swiftly
Decay, can you please take me quickly
And call upon your eternal friend Death

I am not a messenger
And will not deliver such
I must act timely
Unlike Death
Who's much more abrupt

Can’t you see my beauty wearing thin
Decay please take me quickly
So I might die young
Think of it as freeing up time
Because I am truly done

*Surely you can’t be done
With so much beauty
That I have left untouched
Barley a hair, freckle or curve out of place
Are you ready to give that all up
This ones a rough work in progress and is not close to being finished.  Please feel free to give me feedback guys I know this ones rough around the edges. Thanks
Christopher Lowe Oct 2014
Even dreams
Are now filled
With the everyday mundane
It seems
This addiction to reality
Has taken seed
Now impossible
To differentiate
Waking from slumber
Now as one day ends
Another immediately begins
Slowly gone from living
Into this perpetual nightmare
Christopher Lowe Dec 2013
no breath to breath
no life to live
we're all the same on this broken bridge
we hide our face and cover tears
in hopes the pain will disappear
we walk alone in our dark despair
as we prep our veins for this drug called society
Christopher Lowe Jan 2014
I once knew a place called happiness
It was full of summer winds
And the smell of spring rains
It was the long nights catching fire flies
And then living was more than just to survive
It was true and free from pain
And full of nights filled with our whispers
It was the days of perpetuating laughter
And those endless hugs goodnight

It was too good to be true
And now I am left with memories.
Christopher Lowe Oct 2014
Dear Disinterest,

I must
Your sudden
You've got my mind
In a metaphorical state of
And I think it best
You relocate        

A More Interesting Life
Christopher Lowe Apr 2015
“No man ever steps in the same river twice
For it's not the same river
And he's not the same man”
Heraclitus was right
Change does endure
But alas
The water may change but
The river will not cease to be a river
A man’s mind may be changed but
Man will not cease being human
Take it as you will.  Just a little philosophy.
Christopher Lowe Dec 2016
Even the wealthiest man may become a whisper for it is not the measure of wealth that creates legends but the wealth of measures one takes to make a difference.
Christopher Lowe Mar 2014
That tiny space
where your face meets my face
our breaths kiss
before our lips
our cheeks warm
from that effervescent
boiling over of emotions
Christopher Lowe Feb 2015
I've tried
To gain some clarity
In my life
I even stopped writing
But odd strings of sentences
Still haunt me
And sleepless nights
Seem to be filled with
Endless thoughts
Of nonsense
Even dreams are
Jumbled puzzles
Of misdirection
And I just smile madly through it all
I haven't written in awhile.  I'm not busy I just thought maybe I'm not good at it or even if I am why does it matter.
Christopher Lowe Dec 2014
I get my kicks
in the early A.M.
Brains on overdrive
Can't sleep
Overdid it again
So I drift off
Into another twilight
Numbed with
Self-created blissful ignorance
And when the sun
Hits the horizon
I hit it back
With a smile on my face
And I laugh
As I tell the world
*Good morning
Christopher Lowe Nov 2014
140 characters or less
What a world we live in
Obsessed with quick wit
and invisible friends

Stuck to screens
As we drone away
Punching keys
Wasting away in disbelief
Christopher Lowe Sep 2015
Will words ever explain this perpetual breakdown
A cyclic pattern of relentless wondering
How is it once an earlier bird
Suddenly a night owl
Pessimism tangentially transitioned
To something a little less like rhetoric
This spiraling lifestyle suddenly a little less sickening

Does this seem acceptable

To be and not to be
And it seems this mind lately
Is gathering its ideals from some new unfathomable philosophy
Still no excuse for such obscurity in ones life

Christopher Lowe Mar 2014
There he was, Archibald Walker, like every mornin standin on the riverbank starin across the water as the sun began to rise.  He would just stand there with his lunch pal in one hand and that funny bowlers hat in the other.  That boy always had a big ol’ grin stretchin across his face from ear to ear.   Archibald Walker the third was actually his name.  A college boy from down south, he came from ol’ money.  You’da never knew though.  He came up here to escape he said.  I had always wondered why anyone in their right mind would give up money and education to come be a logger, but there was Archibald just starin across that river as happy as a peach.  I used to ask him what he learned down there in school and he would always reply the same way, “Good Jokes”.  I never could tell if he was being serious or if he just didn’t care too much to talk about it.  Archibald was real good at his job though for being a college boy.  Came in before everyone else and worked ten times as hard. Never did see him ***** up either.
He liked to keep to himself.  I was the only one he ever really talked to and even then he never talked about much.  Took me a year and a half just to figure out he was educated and from money.  I looked at that boy funny for a week after he told me that.  I was dumbfounded as to why someone would give that up for this gruelin job.  Funny thing is, he seemed to like it.  He had to clear up logjams and keep the wood flowin smoothly down the river.  Boy was he fast.  He would skip across them floatin logs like he was walkin on dry land.  There he’d go just a bouncin up and down across them logs, big smile across that baby face, with that funny lookin bowlers hat on.  He always had on that goofy thing.  Looked like someone had glued a bowl onto a plank’a wood.  I asked him why he liked wearin it so much one day and he just laughed and said, “Now what makes you think I like wearing it”.  Still don’t know what that boy meant, but I never took to tryin to understand him.
Everybody called him Walker cause he walked across them logs all day and it was his last name I suppose, but mostly cause he loved walkin them logs.  It was a dangerous job, but he never hesitated to go runnin out there with his push pole and clear the jam.  I told him to be real careful what logs he pushed outta the way cause if he got the wrong one, well he would end up crushed out there between two of those god-awful things.  He told me we all end up stuck between two pieces of wood in the end anyhow, so he didn’t care.  Boy shoulda listened.  Wasn’t a week later he went walkin out on them logs, smile and all, and wouldn’t you know it he sliped, got crushed between two big ole trees then sank all the way to the bottom of that river.
We searched the river for three days and never did find Archibald’s body.  It was sad to see that boy cut down so young.  We hired a new boy about a week later and he wasn’t half the walker Archibald was.  He wasn’t even a walker.  Nicknamed that boy crawler cause he was so scared of them logs he would lay down on his belly and crawl out there to fix a jam.  Three separate occasions we picked him up a mile down the river clingin to a log for dear life.  Boy was something else.  Needless to say we let him go down the river the fourth time and politely told him to not come back.  Symbolic in away.  Archibald got taken by the river and that’s how we let crawler know he was fired.  Just let it carry him away until he finally reached the bank a mile or so down river.
I finally took Archibald’s post after we couldn’t find anyone to replace him.  I won’t lie I was scared at first, but then I remembered what Archibald had told me about all of us endin up stuck between two pieces of wood in the end.  I figured he was right so I would just go boundin across them logs day in and out just like he woulda.  I still didn’t know why that boy was always happy.  Even though I did the job, I still hated it. For a while anyway.
One day I came in about the same time Archibald used to and I stood there on the edge of the river and watched the sun come up.  I knew why he was so happy all the time.  Boy it was the most beautiful thing seein that sun comin up.  It was like for a second the world was just explodin with life. I’m not sure what it’s like to have money and be educated, but I’m sure it’s nothing close to watchin that sun come up like that over the river.  Wouldn’t ya know it though when the sun was done risin and I was about to finally get to work there was that goofy hat of Archibald’s washed up on the bank.  It was a little soggy but not in bad shape.  It was like that boy knew I was gonna be there and had just left it for me.  That hat didn’t fit to well and it looked awfully funny, but I wore it everyday I went walkin them logs.  Now I start everyday like Archibald did, standin on that riverbank with my lunch pal in one had and that bowler hat in the other watchin the sun come up.  Still don’t know why that boy wore the thing, but I’m glad he did.
I know it's not a poem, but i still decided to share it.
Christopher Lowe Apr 2015
Drinking my morning coffee
Closer to afternoon
As last night bled over
Into the day
And out the window
The neighbors argue
Over trash in the yard

Not the kids playing
I’m not that cynical
But literal trash

And a thought
Comes to mind
As this coffee
And neurons
Of an argument
Over who lost
A lighter

Now I’m remembering
It was my pocket
With the hole

As was the trash
In the yard
Christopher Lowe Nov 2014
I am the canvas
But my words are the painting
Christopher Lowe Nov 2014
State       of       mind
Nuclear                        vision
Conscious             to
Not all
Christopher Lowe Dec 2014
Venomous sentiment
and perilous arrogance
Living in a world
Filled with detriment elegance
Where Selfishness is just
Another prerequisite
Summed up in a word
Christopher Lowe Apr 2014
Stuck on this voyage of time
With the entire world
And my erratic mind
A voyage testing endurance
Measured by the end of lives
The sirens call out
And in blissful ignorance
Another accepts their fate
And joins the ranks of yesterdays
The others left to carry memories
In hopes to hold off misery
Christopher Lowe Oct 2014
What an attempt
At giving human characteristics
To the most inhuman of ideas
What a ghastly attempt
To bring to life words
The author
Just another Victor Frankenstein
Ashamed of yet another nameless creation
Reconciling with the idea
It was never meant to live
All the while the readers exclaim
Just a little tribute to Frankenstein since Halloween is upon us.
Christopher Lowe Dec 2014
A writers best work
Is not that which elicits emotions from others
But that which
Elicits emotions from themselves
Went back and read a few of my less popular poems and they still hold great truth and meaning even if it is only to me.
Christopher Lowe Dec 2013
The mask of society contorted and beautiful
Its wondrous looks and estranged stares
So hideous it looks, speaking harshly its gentle lies
A kindred glance of utter despair
Angelic ears that do demons work
Seeking only to perform the kindest hardships amongst its people
Can you see the beauty?

The mask of society bare and voluptuous
Speaking only the most deceiving of truths
Hears secrets to tell others only in the most entertainingly sincere nature
A kind word of loving hatred
Wonderful smiles full of disgust
It only wants to cast a kind glare of unfair judgments
Can you see the beauty?

Blind eyes and deaf ears
We know the beauty is there
Not possibly deceived
Where is the beauty?
Christopher Lowe Mar 2015
Placed into a frame
Of mind that is
Like a blurry photograph
Sitting on a dusty forgotten shelf
Even if just figuratively
Literally the same as memories
Lost and locked away
And like the frame
So often compliments the photograph
This state of mind
Frames the thoughts of yesterday
Piece from an anthology I'm working on titled Swimming On The Moon
Christopher Lowe Mar 2014
I gave you my breath

But you took it away

Now I’m left here suffocating

Trying to escape, gasping for air

And yes I am aware

That this is mostly my doing

I betrayed you

But is my punishment just

You leave me here drowning

While you take air into your lungs

What I did was unjustifiable

But could you please let me breath

Instead of ignoring me

While I’m stuck here suffering
Christopher Lowe Nov 2014
You are slipping into eternity
She used to warn me
It seems like just yesterday
That Forever finally came
Now the needle on this record
That I call this hopeless life
Is stuck slipping
Towards the end of *
Christopher Lowe Oct 2014
There is the man on the corner
With his sign spare some change
But when people gave money
He turned it away

The next day he was gone
But he left a sign
*Think less literally
The world could use a little more change
Christopher Lowe Jan 2015
Political system
Bred off disagreement
And those instigating change
Only do so out of hatred
People just regurgitate
Networked Ignorance
Align yourself
With the Great Jumbo
Or the all Knowing ***  
What a circus act
Christopher Lowe Jan 2015
You ever hear
How people never change
Well its really quite different
We live our lives toward
A greater entropy
Ever changing
And maybe that’s why
We have these cliché
Rules we live by
So we
Shouldn’t Judge a book by its cover
Even if
We have an axe to grind with it
Christopher Lowe Dec 2014
Have you ever
Metaphorically drowned
In your own thoughts
Christopher Lowe Dec 2014
A social disease
A tragedy
Against the wondering minds
A complete unawareness
Of the limitless possibilities
To spoiled by instant gratification
Living with to many
Of a short hand nature
Literally caught in the moment
Christopher Lowe Sep 2015
Reoccurring or
One night stands
Cause a pondering mind
To recompense
Not because
That was done
But only
If dreamed of
Only once

And the dreams
Are just that
First one I've written i a while.
Christopher Lowe Nov 2014
you took the poison from my lips
now I'm left alone
did you save me or
prolong my death
Christopher Lowe Dec 2013
Hang on here I go again
A thousand foot inside my head
Dwelling on my thoughts of sins
No wonder why my soul feels dead

Inner peace I'll never know
In these deep reaches of my mind
A dark curse on me bestowed:
Answers I seek I never find
Christopher Lowe Dec 2014
When work needed done
We used to pound the pavement
But now we just punch keys
We're living in the digital age
Full of neon signs and L.E.Ds

Some say it's the future
Some say it's a disease
I say *it's okay in moderation
Just take a moment
And Breath
We need to find our personal balances between living in reality and living behind a computer screen
Christopher Lowe Sep 2014
She had a tattoo of a compass
Wrapped around here ribs
So I asked where she was headed
And here's what she said

*Here's a thought
To help direct your mind
Like everyone else
I'm headed toward my demise
Christopher Lowe Apr 2015
Across the table
They stare back
I might add
And pardon the pun
It is
A spectacle
To behold
A staring contest
Between me
And my glasses
Christopher Lowe Sep 2014
In my mind I have fallen quite far
quite further than my mind once thought
So like Alice into
                                                       I go
Chasing what was once my shadow
But now it seems to have become my ghost
And how it haunts me these days
Laughing as it taunts me in endless shame
Yet hopelessly I
Not becoming any closer
Just further away
Always just close enough
But to far away from

What Matters?
Sometimes we chase after the things we want and often find ourselves the furthest from what actually matters.
Christopher Lowe Sep 2014
Welcome to the dream catcher
But don't linger long
Lest you want to stay
To find your dreams
Christopher Lowe Jan 2014
Everyone has dreams
Profound in nature
Or profoundly meaningless
Some only wake from them
While others awaken
Christopher Lowe Feb 2015
To the ever so quite
Of ideas
Slipping into blissful
And the echoing  
Of this parasitic
And everything is
Just another wavelength
Stretching its existence
To the edge of outer space
Christopher Lowe Jan 2015
What in this world
Did I once love more
Other than that which
I once abhorred
And those fleeting feelings
Waxed and waned
Leaving me with wilted flowers
And thoughts to contemplate
Christopher Lowe Sep 2014
They told me I was dreamer

So I fell asleep forever

I figured the world was changing

And my dreams could just get better

But the dreams became chronic

Some called it an addiction

Now dreaming is getting old

It’s become more of an affliction

Now I’m just waiting

To be awoken form my slumber

Like Rip Van Winkle

My waking days are numbered
Christopher Lowe Sep 2014
What is pain but momentary
What anguish we fill
if though for a second
It's not time we feel
But the eternal memory
That everlasting moment of remembrance
Christopher Lowe Sep 2015
What is life without something bigger
Are we at the top of the food chain
Or just larger than life
Or to obsessed with it
These mentalities are exasperating

Philosophically speaking

We’ve barely scratched the surface
Of what is called humanity

Christopher Lowe Nov 2014
A pen mightier then a sword

Ink more powerful than an edge

Yet what war was waged without a blade?

Then again what war was won without quill?

The pen brings the peace

The sword brings the war

Who is to say finishing something is harder than starting?

Maybe it is not one mightier than another

Yet it is that one is the other

Nations are changed by words and actions

One alone falls short
Christopher Lowe Dec 2014
I live my life
Philosophical footnote
At a time
Christopher Lowe Apr 2015
Have I repented
To the point of fault
Am I blind
To my own goodness
Do I not
Want to let myself succeed
Perhaps all this time
It has been myself
Who consistently disagrees
With my own ideas

I must be resistant
To my own existence
Christopher Lowe Feb 2014
Break me down to the bare essentials
                                                                     You see
There is no such thing as true potential
                                                                     You either have what it takes
Or you don’t have it at all
You have to watch as you rise
                                                                     Or enjoy the fall
But what’s at the bottom is the same as the top
We have an addiction for momentum
The cravings won’t stop
                                                                      We innately love inertia
The ups and the downs
Christopher Lowe Dec 2014
Have you wondered about heaven
Lately I've been dreaming about it
Not a place
But a heavenly face
Lately seeing her makes my heart race
And when heaven speaks
The very core of my existence listens
And when she moves
The world moves with her
Christopher Lowe Sep 2014
She was unlike any celestial body I've ever seen
She flew like a comet
But shined like the sun
Eyes like spiral galaxies
and a voice that filled the endless void
Beauty like gravity drawing you in
Personality like a super nova
She was my outer space
Now I'm just left staring at the stars
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