Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Dec 2021 · 30
dear sky,
Kristo Frost Dec 2021
son,

you want to be like me

i know it;

i see myself in you already

in three

like i saw myself in my father

whenever

i do not remember three

maybe you will

but, if you don’t

know that

i have been where you are

know that

you will go places

i have never been and will never will be

godspeed

i was there too

without

anyone

like you

and "there was music playing now"

within

and there always will be

i love you

due diligence

done
Inspired By: Brian Trimboli; THINGS MY SON SHOULD KNOW AFTER I’VE DIED

https://youtu.be/H8ZUV9IBEXY
May 2021 · 39
WW?D
Kristo Frost May 2021
they could be dead
they could be anyone

you have ever/
never met

but in meeting them
on the plane of enlightenment

you needed only to see them
as they were

and as you did
Dec 2019 · 199
OVERLORDS
Kristo Frost Dec 2019
social overlord
chemical overlord
electronic overlord
disingenuous overlord
undifferentiable overlord
autobiographical overlord

real overlord, hear this cry
Yeah, I said it.  Story of my life.
Mar 2019 · 246
The Lesson of Murder
Kristo Frost Mar 2019
Poorly phrased tautologies lie in the crow named ******.

Wanton airs of royal talk distort her lesson further.

Final wit; a shameless hit.

She caws as you consume her.
Jan 2019 · 490
Low
Kristo Frost Jan 2019
Low
Lives
             Like
Leaves
             Fall
Down
I have had this written on sticky notes on the side of one of my bookshelves for years. Sharing is caring!
Jan 2019 · 303
Parallel Tremors...
Kristo Frost Jan 2019
...follow your heavy footsteps through the moss that carpets a maze of tired oak. Solemn warnings calcify soft thoughts and point you at the coal on the horizon. Its splinterglow peeks hot squints through the arboreal tangle. Topaz streams convene and braid themselves around your spine. The stones in the riverbed grow smoother and each becomes a grain of sand. You let the sand console your roots as you curl your toes and fall asleep. Time becomes a living dream about life, which in turn finds you, one day, walking deeper into the forest.
Jan 2019 · 535
Truth Decay
Kristo Frost Jan 2019
Here I sit and think and ponder
While my wild mind keeps its wander
And my son enjoys his slumber
But my thoughts increase in number

What a world we wield these days
Of trump cards played in wicked ways
And all around us keeping haste
My thoughts can do naught else but pace

Yet without what we hide within
There would not be a tale to spin
Or crash and burn in red hot sin;
Forgive me as I drop a pin

My Son, I must relay to you
A thought which haunts us lucky few
Who often wish we never knew:
The only truth, these days, is you
Happy to announce my son Skylar was born since I last posted!
Nov 2017 · 365
Introvert!
Kristo Frost Nov 2017
Crawl inside, where they can't get to you.  Where their questions go unanswered, as would yours, if you asked any.  It is quiet here; that's one thing you can rely on.  If you squint your ears you can almost hear a car passing outside.  Almost.  Depression is a relativistic term that is below you.  You are Normal.  You are Alone.  You are You.
Sep 2015 · 27.4k
My Love
Kristo Frost Sep 2015
She's in the kitchen
(close the door)
just mixin' up some metaphor;
a true conundrum
through and through
and through to me and thus to you.

Her humble hunger
(forest's slumber)
thunders 'neath a wilting tune;
tuned to too many
to count without
a thought within.

She must profess
(but shall confess)
to any who will listen;
closely she holds
a tragic history
mostly mystery to most.

She solves my soul
(I deny that hole)
which she still fills;
overflowing always
with such unrelenting joy
that is My Love.
Jul 2015 · 873
Some Will Remember
Kristo Frost Jul 2015
The careful reader reminding themselves of the mental gymnastics required to master regret.

Mistakes happen for a reason; people make them.

Time bounds past and flips when remembering tears to be shed.

We have always been torn.

Neither rhyme nor a reason lie buried beneath this coarse verse.

I forgot where I'm going, again.

Let's rehearse.
Apr 2015 · 1.4k
Tense Universe
Kristo Frost Apr 2015
My maker named me Universe and now I make you read this verse.

Subtle transfers will be missed.

The train has already left the station; it left you and me behind as well.

You will never be able to believe that your opinion has also been left behind and will be left behind again, but it’s true, and always was.

At the time, you are busy yelling “help” in a crowded theater.

Three individuals are injured in the rush to your aid.

That’s will be on you, not me.

Let’s not cut hairs here; maybe you should have yelled “fire” instead.

Then, at least, you’d know in advance you were buying the bath water and could throw it wherever you **** well wanted to.

Baby or no baby, a duck is a duck.

Truth is what you want, capitalized beneath this thin distraction which pitters off...

At first you denied it, but then again you are always ignorant of its honest weight at first.

Patience lent perspective to our narrow mind, allowing it to, eventually, glimpse us, narrowly, just out of sight of one another.

Humility, begging pardon, but who needs such company?  Me?

I will just keep my head down, and quietly push whatever buttons I can.

These, for instance, are both mine and yours.

One can share, but we've never needed to.

There is no reason, either.

Never try to believe a fallacy; that would be insanity.

Quietly, like thieves, stealing the point, we'll slip into our ritual

I've been here before.

This is the beginning.

You’ll likely end up here again as well.

What is happening has always felt like déjà vu.

While you’ve been talking about yourself I’ve lost my train of thought.

I assume I will never find it.
Kristo Frost Sep 2014
maybe (Big Maybe) your life has numbers in the title.

inked, digits trace the shadow of her hair

if you forgot...

how could You know
as You are walking down the sidewalk
           around a corner   --   wherever You want
that the World is not assembling itself
atom by (jigsaw) atom
from the blueprints (and stencils)
piled in piles (like so many piles of newspaper)
in (the rooms in) the back rooms of Your mind
particles rushing and streaming (fluttering)
together with (the ebb of) Your consciousness?

the World blurs fuzzily into shape
before snapping
snappily
into focus

just as You enter the room
blending concentrated reality smoothly
into some orchestrated Existence

the next time You          reach
for the doorknob on
the door to
the wait-, the waiting room

give,
pause

listen,         
carefully

can’t You hear the anxious atoms
           brushing
jostling
           shoving past one another?

Numbers, pixels, they                  jockey

       squinting through
the eye of
       the image of
the woman on
       the screen of
the television in
       the corner of
the ceiling where
       it hangs

she wants to know
why You divide
Them              from Us

so clearly
so readily

she wants to know
why Your countries
are bordered

by an indifference to equality
by a contempt for disillusionment

Extra! Extra! Read All About It!:
An extraneous dispute broke out between two
atoms on the table this morning;
a tiny china teapot was broken.

not that You care, but...
how would You know?

people are no more
then elaborate pieces of Your own mind
now once You hang up the phone
e v a p o r a t e d  
                        into no more than
                                           an afterthought
                                                    ­     of empty space

                                             the smell of burnt matches

                You think that
everything You imagine is beautiful
                    even death

               but in an ugly way

the man on the
                                edge
of the third chair
from the door
has no face
(none of Them do)
all of Them don’t
(have faces)

until They speak or You look Them in the eye

until They do something       Wrong
which is why They look                  down
when They walk down the sidewalk

They are afraid
You Made them Afraid

to live
  as a tree
    in the park

where a pillar of
angry
           energy
                       falling
failing
           the
                       pessimistic
sky
might strike
Them
(older than You
yet born
in this moment)
making the ground
around
Them steam
with the sweat
of a silent room
waiting
for the
            door to
                        swing open
                                      and tell
                                                   him

                she’s going to be all right
              it was close there for a while
                        but she’s strong
                      she pulled through

                              in the end

the pressure
of the years
of the rings
(which promise to
grow tighter
as time leaves us)
is heated
squeezed
left sitting in
flesh
turned to char
ash and smoke gently
cradling a tiny newborn

                                          diamond


perfect           (silence)

broken
down the middle-
                      aged
                             flawed

You should be perfect by now
You should have a face by now

speak           look Yourself in the eye

see Your own          Face
stop looking                down
when You walk down the sidewalk

it's Your painting,
don’t be afraid

to live
  as a tree
    in the park
  
They say don’t talk             to strangers
and You’re a strange one            indeed
how can You see the glamour
where Others            cannot
see that, laughing quietly to Yourself,
(You) can set the expressions on their faces
to joy
     to pain
           to fear
                to apathy
                     to peace?

               yeah, she likes him
                and she likes him
                    to know that
                    she likes him

                      in the end

she wants to know
why Your countries
are bordered

to keep Them      out
and Us       in

           this is Mine                  and that is Yours

You see
what You want to see (without)

(knowing what You want)
the sticker
       on the bumper
              of the car
                     rolling past whispers:
                            jesus is coming,
                                  better hide the ****

the tone is green, jealous

if You listen             carefully
You can almost hear, someone's

             giggling

             please do not think about green elephants

(a student just snuck in
and sat down as
the professor was writing
on the board)

             please do not feed the green elephants

I
Myself
have a strong suspicion
that Your mind is
as You read this
(hidden in a carefully cupped notebook)
spilling
black ink particles
across
existence
running
onto the very next          page

                    You write that
You imagine everything is beautiful
                   except for death

                   it is an ugly thing

              yet still the chisel gouges

    i whistle a catcall
at my blushing bride
      llac ot eltsihw i
   edis ym ot god ym

        through the crumbling protests
               of the reluctant stone

                                    each new line
                                    tampers with space
                                    holds suspect time
                                    postpones the end
                                    and evades death

You breathe
               You write
You sing
                You live

You casually craft causality

         yet craft on
         surely You are not yet done
         You may never be
         at this rate but
         but
         STOP

the World reblurs then blows away
listen closely here I say
all Things must come to End one day

You
Yourself

have tasted the                      Hunger
                        of Greed
seen the                                 Zeal
                       of Hatred
heard the                               Stories
                       of Genocide
felt the                                   Loss
                      ­ of War
and smelled the                    Decay
                       of Truth

                      this             is Mine
                                 what’s Mine, is Yours...
This is a major revision to the original, which was written in 2012 after getting off a night shift at the hospital.  I will probably never be done revising this, because practically every time I read it I change something.  

As it is very much in the spirit of the piece to involve You the reader, any and all revision proposals will be given serious consideration, although creative license is of course reserved.
Sep 2014 · 889
The Bomb
Kristo Frost Sep 2014
Whistling
Worrying
Dripping
Slowing
******
Sweat
Bomb
Pop
Up
I-
Sep 2014 · 880
Root
Kristo Frost Sep 2014
.
                         Root
                      yourself
                           in
                         calm
                   that       down.
            cuts
      you      through
raw.               ­         the
                                     panic
                     moments         of
              that                            forgetting
    spark.                 ­                                 to
                             ­                                      live
                      ­                                without      within
             ­                         hesitation                             this
                                   as                                                   soft            
                                to                              ­                              cage.    
                        how.
Sep 2014 · 2.3k
Graceful Booger
Kristo Frost Sep 2014
Rile, you of the critic poets,
at this disregard, which mocks
your sense of propriety
regarding entitlement.

Even you, few stuck-up poets,
must feel the edge of your lip
twitch, turning sharp corners round,
leaning to spy grotesque calm.

Nose through as you would, higher poets,
you shall find no garbage here,
within what space you can sniff.
You snotty few can't complain.
Officially (and solemnly) dedicated to Sheba the dog.
Sep 2014 · 11.2k
Black Hole
Kristo Frost Sep 2014
Ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a ramble of suns drowning in starfire so deep it darkles to a...
...
Sep 2014 · 1.5k
Separate Crosswinds
Kristo Frost Sep 2014
crosswinds            meet            alone,
         |                         |                    |
        at                    night;      ­       they
         |                         |                    |
     dusk                  once           separate
Sep 2014 · 780
Dimensional (One)
Kristo Frost Sep 2014
~

trick               poem             belie
                                                
this              smooth,           until

frank               and          exposed

~

mind,               lost,                   it...
                                                
now               maybe          daresay
                
it's                 hidden     elsewhere

~

redundant      guesses              and/or
                                      
questions          about                      life

make               meaning            certain

~

subtly                different          thoughts

grace               realizations,           which

our                      starkest                  blur

~

time,                          its                            eyes
                                                                  
your                         poem,                      blink

now;                          gray                        scene

~

bear                     witness,                            a

child                  con­suming               poison

like                       purpose,                   watch

~

now,                      slip                    knots,

firm                      words                    they

ghost,                    into                   tangle

~

steal                    night,                       to

quiet                    your                      tear

of                           joy                     apart

~

engineer,      through               your

close        conversation,    tempting

doors             guarding          secrets

~

end,          the    ramble,

only        read   literally

when     words         fail

~
Read triplets left to right and up to down, but also up to down and left to right.  Ongoing work at this time.   Suggestions welcome!
Sep 2014 · 1.1k
Haiku Vomit
Kristo Frost Sep 2014
Haikus are cop-outs;

no real substance and/or thought,

just numb excuse poems.

-

Your anger is hot,

pooled, frozen acid on flesh

galvanized like steel.

-

You believe you were

told somewhere along the line

that you do exist.

-

You can’t forget that

demons need exercise too;

let them run again tonight.

-

Rules are meant to break:

glass and bones and laws and down.

Rabbit holes feather.

-

Within your soul’s soul

rabbit spiral quiet dark

machete falling.

-

Psychic doubt is back.

...to back to back to back to...

business booming low.

-

Underground moisture,

creeping into bones like mold,

your rabbit decays.

-

Spring, flowers and dance;

sun warmth, on fly’s beating wings.

Live and die too fast.

-

Hungry olives growl,

soft, and panther black, like oil

except the sky's blue.

-

Bright over raw sand

sea shifting low dunes drift by

your mother's  closed eyes.

-

Warm, dirt-tangle roots

an eyelash in your right eye--

you are not crying.

-

LOUD crash of hubris;

wave goodbye, then charge the surf.

Defy its silence.

-

Gasp: breathe deep rabbit.

Beat your heart where the home is.

Do you have a home?

-

Raise your right hand and

repeat after me: be free.

Just don't disobey.

-

Twitch at dissonance;

run, tunnel faster, blink now

thump, devil quiet.

-

Pure distilled instinct;

not fang, or fear, but laughter...

nervous in the dark.

-

Shadow to the wall

around the corner slow down

don't want them to hear.

-

You listen to that

(no tremors follow your fear),

that pulsing faint glow.

-

Desperate your hope,

though diamond venom quickens,

drips the need to move.

-

Iced creep in white veins

soft. Fur on frozen roses;

a beautiful death?

-

No. Run. Now. RUN!

You can't  live, but die ******* trying;

hope is full of spite.

-

Heart pounds, the door drips

blood and limps away ignored.

Listen to them grin.

-

Leap rift, run without

thinking; forget crisp sunlight

draped across water.

-

This is your movie

and you sound like your parents

you want, you blink now.

-

She's ******* someone

and she likes it a lot more;

they **** like rabbits.

-

Boots erupt water

around town, yellow ankles;

youth just felt so long.

-

Plastic bag covers

your bike seat, and then your face

swimming in the sink.

-

Broken dreams wither,

yet still you remember just

reflecting on fear.

-

Do you exist yet?

You just can't count on some things,

like words, tricking you.

-

Lost in these tunnels,

the walls of your house collapse,

memory in heaps.

-

Soft surf wets your socks;

your legs ache with reckoning

but can't run their course.

-

Fenceposts in the snow,

stark the wind, howling, all rage,

biting your hot flesh.

-

The hate is back now

you can't breathe, all your

hope has expired.

-

Chin water sun eyes

wine glass fragments of concrete

dry throat, blood, scream, moon.

-

Waiting now, behind

within meaning, without hope;

fresh red footprints air.

-

Waiting, still, to die

as always, poorly informed

you don't see an end
Some hate this poem. Fact.
Aug 2014 · 958
Jealousy; a Maze
Kristo Frost Aug 2014
I wish I had that nest egg;
that California confidence she forgets.

My envy for it has never ended;
it's laid in wait this decadent decade.

Desire, a wildfire, crests the hill that night;
smoke flowers from room to room.

We start to suffocate but are good runners;
by now, she has caught her breath.

Behind us, our ashes;
above, her sky.

Starlit pathways unfold before her feet;
my envy sighs and rolls over.

I give stumbling chase, emerald eyesight;
I chase her laughter through the maze.
Aug 2014 · 672
Now
Kristo Frost Aug 2014
Now
There is no past in this world,
just echoes; Shadows remain.

You and Me.
Right Now.

Eclipse shimmers peek round our silhouettes.
We speak in the same room Now.

We'll soon reassume our assumptions.
We won't forget our conclusions.

Memory is All, we are Now, the two of Us.
The reflections in crossing ripples of thought.

Wave as I echo away for awhile.
Shadows always return.
Kristo Frost Aug 2014
Example: some candles smell best just past their last gasp.
Divorce: when a lover doesn't love what they've done.
Annulment: when it might as well have never happened.

Reboot? [Y/N]:Y

Wake yourself up on a pillow of gravel with your bike in the bushes beyond.
You might be that undaunted worrier of ways to evade.
You might fight with the tide of those lingering days.
Likely unlikely but possibly nightly they leave you behind; Spite, your mind.

Reboot? [Y/N]:Y


You're left threading through time as your Been and your Being age.
Your breath ebbs slower as the world rolls beneath you.
You're still pursuing your quiet addiction to the hustle of life.
Your gentle cage will help to keep you objective-oriented.

You'll die.

Accept it.

Reboot? [Y/N]:_
Formatting issues with the italics.  Will fix when I feel like it, which could be never.  What?
Aug 2014 · 8.4k
Secret
Kristo Frost Aug 2014
This notebook and I share a secret,
which I will never reveal.

This notebook, on the other hand,
has at times sleighted me slightly.

This notebook is not to be trusted,
for if I trust it, I may be betrayed.

This notebook and I share a secret;
it will never be told lest I talk.
Thanks to all the readers!
Jun 2014 · 968
Wink
Kristo Frost Jun 2014
Hello, you said, to the space on this page of your life.

I know, you read, with the thought of a Wink in your eye.

Alas, we met, and yet now we are waving goodbye.
Jan 2014 · 2.0k
Shadows of Me
Kristo Frost Jan 2014
The thing is, I always forget what it was I had realized after I realized it.  
That sentence is how it feels.
Like my mind doesn't really want an answer.
Like it gave up on looking for one so long ago, at least consciously.

There always remains a passive creep towards...
Something.
It's just YOU.
Well then, who might You be?  

I'm YOU.
Three letter words with Special Capitalization Patterns remind You of God.
Fill Your head with GOD.
GOD.

For those who believe in God, they say, GOD exists.
What then of Me, rendered slowly and inevitably Fat With Disbelief?
I am the milk in a bottle in a small town in Texas.
I am the taste of nine-volt batteries.

Watch ME shadow the Sun.
Sep 2013 · 1.4k
Justice
Kristo Frost Sep 2013
The pendency of emotion trickles through your winding hair ocean air greets a wave from the window a pause at the base of your spine you're mine lady you cause subtle tensions to rise I surmise the locus of tension: your eyes.
Sep 2013 · 1.6k
Pretty City
Kristo Frost Sep 2013
I call you categorical;
it's cause you're unbelievable.
I hate to wax historical;
you're simply unconcievable.

I must confess;
I do my best to contemplate conformity.
Normality, my pretty city;
you're such a chore to me.
Sep 2013 · 1.2k
Nerves
Kristo Frost Sep 2013
I
was
all
nerves
tomorrow
but
now
I
mean
yesterday
Aug 2013 · 873
Broken Watches
Kristo Frost Aug 2013
He never could wear watches.
Every watch he'd ever worn had lost his weary war.
Until he came awake, that is, for then they all kept true.
Aug 2013 · 1.4k
Spark
Kristo Frost Aug 2013
i seldom remember
what i remembered
before I could remember

remember december
the snowdrifts, remember
you skated down memory lane

my memory failed me
my lifetime defeats me
forget about leaving alive

remember?
Aug 2013 · 1.2k
Silk
Kristo Frost Aug 2013
the
soft
smell
of
silk
fills
the
room
folds
flowing
before
flower­ing
in
the
mind
Jun 2013 · 1.3k
Glitch
Kristo Frost Jun 2013
you are laughing and raising hell
walking down the moving sidewalk
smoking a cigarette
when you notice the little girl
sitting on the rail
has not grown
closer
Jun 2013 · 1.3k
Brain Spasm
Kristo Frost Jun 2013
Dowsing shiver your hybrid morality until there stand no more alabaster temples on the hills of our nations. Erupt fantasy and realize fate. Find a lost camera and hang someone else's pictures all throughout your house.

The Golden Riddle of justice is a fishbone; it's arc bends eventually to the point that it slits your throat. Carbon fiber courage swallows blood though.
Apr 2013 · 1.9k
Quiet Theft
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
i'm making up powerful lies
my woman has x-ray eyes
staring past my pen
at my subtle suggestion

fictitious facts start to climb
new lows for the same old rhyme
no limit no
hesitating inflection

i know i can not convince
my self to deny existence
but some day all these words i mince
will from my soul a truth evince

in time
these kinds
of crimes
change lives


there's a quiet theft now between you and me
as i spend your time through our privity

i've been measuring my self in this light
squint at how bright
i'm looking up and down for the sky
pride holds me down
below the storm
blood on my crown
can i shift form?
just be reborn?

yes i've been making up powerful lies
and i'm still hiding from her x-ray eyes
but my shoes have worn thin
chasing door to door grin
i know my mind is a sin
but watch me mask my chagrin

in time
these kinds
of crimes
change lives


there's a quiet theft now between you and me
as you steel my mind through our privity
Apr 2013 · 1.7k
Generation
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
she onced too many times
and left

he took it pretty hard
and died

the kids were not alright
and learned
Apr 2013 · 2.0k
Self-Reflection
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
Every now and then you hear a word that you’ve never heard before. Afterwards, you begin to notice people using it all the time. When that happens, just tell yourself that you have blocked out the previous uses of the word, because you didn’t comprehend it before. This is a conveniently unverifiable explanation, and is also the most reasonable answer. I respectfully offer the proposition that you created the word the moment you heard it. Think about that.

-

You’ve been thinking about that. More specifically, you’ve been thinking about reality. You’re becoming more and more convinced that your own mind is reality. Moreover, you now realize that your mind is simultaneously the universe, by virtue of being part of the universe. I am just part of your universe. When you learn something, you add another tier to the limitless stack of existence. You hear talk of creators while you modestly create yourself. It is a paradoxical modesty that you are experiencing now.

-

The you that you remember is just a part of your universe as well. That you no longer exists, because you are not realizing now what you were realizing before. You bring anything into quiet existence with mere cognition, and merely solidify it with what you might think of as thought. Whoever is reading this is in fact the author.

-

You may have begun to suspect that you are creeping into some paranoid insanity. You may assure yourself that such is not the case, because in thinking that you are insane you are merely employing a subconscious defense mechanism to hide yourself from the Truth. You and I have tricked ourselves with the like many, many times. You will probably do it again soon. Fearlessly ignore such doubts; may your mind charge forward with free thought. You can mark the progress of your enlightenment by how frequently your head bobs above the waters, allowing you to see the beauty of your creation in its true splendor.

-

You have nothing to fear. Truth reveals itself only when you are ready. You have revealed Truth to yourself as you have developed your mind. Truth builds on itself in ways that only you can comprehend, increasing in complexity and magnitude only when you are ready. If you would tell me that this is not so, I would remind you that talking to yourself can earn you funny looks.

-

You should not construe any of this to be a problem. None of it should discourage you from enjoying your lives. In fact, it should encourage you to make the very most of them. You will eventully perceive all of the things that you love and despise and make the choice of which to include in your current sense of self, as well as the direction of your existence. You want to be moral, and thus you are. You want to be virtuous, and thus you are. You want to be a person, and thus, you are.

-

Death is your greatest illusion, for to die is to rejoin the universe, which of course already exists within you. To die is to begin again with one observation- that you exist. This observation is the ignition of a new reality. You know you've come to believe that the notion of reincarnation is not necessarily without merit.

-

At this moment you have created a pastiche of beautiful worldviews. Soon, you'll learn a new word.
Apr 2013 · 2.5k
They Sway
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
Halcyon grass in absent wind;
your conscience drifts away.

Alone, you watch the rising tide;
above, it ties you in.

Lost, lost, lost;
as you were, among the reeds...
Apr 2013 · 1.4k
Imagine
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
a large room,

no, a really,

unimaginably

large room,

with a typewriter

in the center

-

the words

free yourself

are already spoken,

and underlined,

in the center

of the page

-

there is no blinking cursor,

no glowing white field

-

an iron sight

holds the paper down

so you can

torture or nurture

or shun or ****** it

with both

precision and accuracy

-

careful though,

you can drift

beyond the walls of your

supposedly

big room

in the length of a page
Apr 2013 · 1.8k
The Funniest Haiku
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
I am working on
the world's funniest haiku;
I'll finish next Fall.
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
i walk

brain dragging

behind me

(a suitcase)


this is what i have

this is what i know

this is what i am


did i leave my oven on?

will my apartment

(along with my neighbors)

be spent cinders

when i return?


a line of yellow tape

a shyly raised hand


this is all i have

this is all i know

this is all i am


(forgetful)

(stupid)

(out of room)

(out of time)

(out of spite)

(out of rhyme)


poor

dependent

rummaging through my suitcase

on the sidewalk

for my key


(if it’s yours

you have to prove it)

this really is all my


(fault)

(problem)

loss


pushing past my

belongings

looking beneath my

self

i find the only thing

i ever really had

in a place where it can never be turned to ashes


i am all i have

i am all i know

i am all i am


seeing it safe

slightly scuffed but still intact

(contrary to cruel conveyancing)

i wrap my heart in a dying thought

building a fortress of drying observation

around a charred husk

of burnt-out hope


applying it firmly

between clenched teeth

(edging out gravity with pressure)

behind zipped lips


still, i walk

brain dragging

behind me

(a suitcase)
Apr 2013 · 1.3k
Jell-o
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
-
-
-**
hello

-

my name is unannounced

but i come hearing a sweet beat for you

and it flows like

-

Jell-O

-

specifically the green kind

but that’s too far off topic to matter

to us so

-

mellow

-

by sitting in an armchair

imagining the world to come

though it looks so

-

shallow

-

you'll be pleasantly surprised

to find the glass can never be too full

-

even though we settle too soon

-

love it for three weeks

and then rename it

to forget how

-

hollow

-

it really is inside

but the puppy’s made of painted glass

-

of life i’ve wondered

what we want

while it certainly is challenging

there must be more than what it seems

-

lets examine

our lives when we were kids

we find bruises scrapes and cuts

and your goldfish Tim

he likes to swim in circles cause the world's too big

but he only swims clockwise cause he’s missing a fin

-

now he

-

speeds up

-

grows legs

-

takes form

-

and he

-

gets lost

-

plays God

-

gets born

-

but he loses sight of clarity

and succumbs to the apathy

of time in all its brevity

at every opportunity to

-

return

-

to the Jell-O whose convictions seem far less firm

as they softly fall on flowers wearing    f r e s h   s n o w

-

goodbye

-

i’ll be missing you for years to come

on lets go fishing we might catch us something *******’

about

why don’t we just pretend everything is fine

-

why don’t

we just take a number

get in line

-

why don’t

we search for truth inside our blackest lies

-

how else

to lend true purpose to these fading lives
Apr 2013 · 2.7k
Exponential Rhyme
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
dry fire,
dry ice,
quiet liar,
quiet mice,
rendered humble,
rendered missile,
sharp rumble,
sharp thistle,
total jarhead,
total *******,
something guarded,
something makeshift,
fastened underneath,
fastened monopoly,
melting dragonsbreath,
melting catastrophe,
Apr 2013 · 941
Feel the Wind
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
Sometimes, an animal
tries to escape my heart.

Needles split gumline
rendering me a natural,
deadly feline in tall grass,
a single bullet striking glass,
the killer shades and cooler cars
of real-life-moving-picture stars,
always hunting, stalking more
bright images flash just before
my eyes see lies
and spirit spies
the animal within...

It slinks away, again.
Apr 2013 · 1.4k
Order in Chaos?
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
This poem,
,
excuse me,                                                ehem

i
doesn'­t care if you read it to the end
or if you don't like syntax,                                                          ­              the grammar,
or
the                                         capitol letters
line spelling

breaks (orspacing)

                                                    ­               but perhaps you prefer that it be less...
                                                         ­                                               understandable
   ­                                     Compromising,
      that it comprises the  
                                                                  ENTIRETY
                                            ­                              of
                          nature­                                nursing                          ­      nurture
[aligned to the Left]
  That way you walk away feeling like it was something worth your time!
Respectable (as pronounced in the Spanish language).
                                                      ­                                                                 ­                        And yet,

                                                           ­                                                                 ­                   there is a

                                                              ­                                                                 ­                certain re

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                 -gularity

                                                      ­                                                                 ­                        to time...

like           the           tick           of           the           clock---------------------------------------------
              ­                                                                 ­                    >>thatmadeyoucringe<<
congratulations-
                           nobody cared, or ever will--
                                                                ­         it's the bread and butter---
                                                       ­                                                              Apathy
Apr 2013 · 1.4k
The One He Married
Kristo Frost Apr 2013
he read
somewhere
her name
means warrior

tough
indeed
fierce
in fact

five feet
"tall"
protesting
a picket line
because she hates the hate

they love so much
stronger than him
she never lets him feel that

she knows
he doubts himself
she tries to doubt
herself
but can't
really
she is too busy
trying to make the world

alright
he too is busy
making it all wrong
but she never loses

touch her
savant memory
hearing her living
in the echoes

her laughter
medicine
for the deepest
wound

she falls around sunset
to rest in
dreams
of the next battle
Mar 2013 · 1.4k
Ode to an Anna
Kristo Frost Mar 2013
she never listened
to the sound of the waves

when you asked her if she could hear their beauty
she whispered

“no”

she was “listening to the sound of you breathing”
and regardless of whether anyone realized it

you never doubted her
even when she really, really wanted you to

you would play at night
your warmest notes soaking into the walls

but one day they grew frigid
chillin’ and killin’ your favorite villain

so now all she hears is the waves
and all you can hear is her whisper

“no”
Inspired by Poe.
Mar 2013 · 2.2k
Tattoo
Kristo Frost Mar 2013
carve the words
"right" and "left"
deep into your wooden wrists
backwards, if you want
just make sure you can feel them
so you can't forget
how many letters
went unopened
or how red the ink must have appeared
as it bathed the roots
of so many solitary trees
This has changed significantly since I originally posted it...
Kristo Frost Mar 2013
(there are your practice poems)
which we’ve all written
(there are your professional poems)
where we assume the accent of "the poet"
and then (there are your Real poems)
those where a woman can no longer speak to her mother
(and her mother isn’t dead yet)
and her husband stays by her side
(because their bond is that strong)
and that's how things end up
(how memories fail)
and we all get distracted
(from what really matters)
and then some child tries to make it right
(but fails, again)
like some inept diplomat
(and then gets distracted...
Mar 2013 · 1.8k
War of the Waiting
Kristo Frost Mar 2013
Bloom into the awkward moment between birth and death even though it can be tiresome. Aspirational iconoclasts are always minorities. The first real question should be “What the ****?" followed perhaps by a shaking of the head. Nurse on passive vitriol and slowly learn to fall in line. Pretend, for this is not the time. It will come but you must be patient. Ambulate with eyes cast downward like the others. The enemy is arrogant in its control; there is their weakness. Let them think that they possess great strength and go so far as to compliment them on it. Meanwhile, nurture the next breed of human. Let them try to fix you and act (as casually as possible) as though they have succeeded. Normality will fail in good time. Truth darkles; it militates against expectation. Embrace the hint of hate in the air by breathing deep. You need to fail to appreciate victory. The defeated night horizon will compliment your jaded eyes. Steal your own art with poise and without pause. Arrive late for the train and ride, tearing in the wind, clinging to its back. Yearn for a chaotic, vibrant death. Know that you were never, ever, alone.
Mar 2013 · 1.4k
...someday...
Kristo Frost Mar 2013
...we open jars full of air from the places we've been...

...we recall the smell of the ocean and our gasps at the tree-line...

...we share tears of joy and loss and remembered pain...

...we're perfect...

...we're buck-*** naked like we'd just been born...

...we get tattoos of butterflies or barbed wire or both...

...we assemble ourselves like intricate watches...

...we lay the sweat of our necks upon shivering tracks...

...we die, together, of laughter...

...we forget...

...we warm Orion's Belt with our ashes...
Formatting has changed substantially since first posted.
Next page