#supposed
Fish in the sea, swimming carefree,
Dreaming of kelp and a doctorate degree.
Fish in a net with a touch of regret,
Suddenly questioning every life choice it met.
Fish in a crate contemplating its fate,
Missing the coral and showing up late.
Fish in a pan with a buttered up plan,
Wondering how it got caught in this span.
Fish on a plate beside parsley and wish
That’s the life cycle of a fish.
Started with bubbles
But now ends in a dish 💀💐
Rest in peace fish
Mar 15
Mar 15, 2026 at 10:59 PM UTC
do you think, when god created us,
they immediately realized their mistake?
the angels must have hated us
they should
they do.
imagine being the perfect epitome of a being,
only to be cast aside for those who create nothing but unbridled chaos.
"it’s what makes them perfect"
they said once, when one of the angels asked about it
"the chaos?" Gabriel asked
"their humanity."
i'm convinced none of them understood exactly what “humanity” means,
and we don’t either.
the day that i reach the end of the road,
when i meet earth, and my soul is the only thing left
and it just so happens
that the god I write about turns out to be real,
i hope they let me ask this question just once
Oct 11, 2020
Oct 11, 2020 at 12:18 AM UTC
I look up at the Stars
At night and thank what
A sight then I say
Please
Tell
Me
Who
I'm
Supposed
To
Be
Please
Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC
I, for one, know I should be up and moving round.
Round
and
round.
And now and then,
I do, what I'm supposed to do.
But now and then, I also dig a hole or two,
so the odds of me doing what I am supposed to do are slim.
My homework's, in my bag.
I am looking, quite sad.
I don't want to do anything,
today.
And every day
goes the same,
so please don't make me do a thang.
Because I, for one, am having oh so much fun.
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 9:53 PM UTC
Why can't i just sleep without dreams
And not dream about you for a night
I don't want to die
Nor do we want to live
Live for those scarse seconds
Of absolute happiness
But I feel nothing
And When This feels
I feel you
And i'm still not supposed to
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 7:37 AM UTC
maybe one day
i won't have to talk you off a ledge
for you to say you love me.
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 11:27 AM UTC
You wondered why
you keep finding
broken angels
everywhere.
All so scarred
and yet deserved
to be loved.
But they keep
putting walls so
high to prevent
people hurting
them.
You forgot, they
weren't supposed
to be down here
in the first
place.
-HIY
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 5:31 AM UTC
To have a family
is like to
"Feel like home"
BUT
sensation's irate
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 8:25 AM UTC
They say that we're all just halves
Of what we are supposed to be...
But tonight, I am whole.
-- Eleanor
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
You think because your skin is wrinkle and blemish free
you have achieved a great feat of life
being thirty
or forty
or fifty-three
looking 23 ***
The last book you read
was only done so that you can name
the last book you read
Your soul is as paper thin
as is your skin
hold on
yes
your shell, vehicle, vessel
and its drapings, anointings, adornings
are very beautiful
you do know that
none of that at all
is actually you
your body fat percentage and credit score
is as important to you
as the birth of your children
as the day of your first wedding
as the day of your second divorce
hold on
yes I'm calling you shallow
hold on
no I'm not saying that I'm better
I will say at least
what I do
I do because it has a purpose
I do because it has a meaning
I know that lives are more important than taxes and their brackets
I know that you do not stay
just because of what others might say if you go
What you do is because. . .
What you believe is because. . .
Right down to the very words you choose
why do you do anything that you do
that’s right
go ahead and say it
© Christopher F. Brown 2015
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
i am captivated
by the fluidity of your text message
you claim you arent a poet
but wow
how you can use 140 characters
to put words out of my mouth
evolving silence from stunned emotions
fantasies flit and twitter
sparked by your wit
the eminent feeling of loss when they fade
out of the temporary reality of my neocortex
and my thalimus
away into the sharpening atmosphere
my discombobulated desires
each begging for my undivided attention
in this sleepy realm of imagination
i contemplate your construction
a worthy demonstration of your capacity to hold
my mind
my eyes
my body
you are great, large, spirited
and your spirit consumes and overflows
my selfish desire to swallow you whole
until you spill out of my ears like maple syrup
sweet and sticky
and then i can have you all to myself
but that isnt fair
to the world
and the good you do it
you have taught me restraint
in my inability to think of anything but you
coupled with my inability to be with you
you manage to intrude into my every thought
conversation
my very being
with magic
your resplendent mind staining my arms
the overly colourful shadow that creeps along my spine
i feel a spectrum of colour
flickering along my horizon
crawling down my thigh like a silk scarf
i am consumed
by your light
crackling and growing
sparking and fizzling
fuelled by my tinder
my eyes swivel and squint
trying to see you through the bright mass you are surrounded by
and i catch a sigh
escape my lips
falling to you
from this new plane of existence you lifted me to
and here there is a woodstove
and a mass of cotton blankets
with a divot in the middle
begging to be filled
and you are there
my hand eases my descent into your warm chest
feet lifted
head filling the gap between your shoulder and your neck
and i rest my hand on yours
you gently sweep your fingertips along the top of my thigh
and you hold my other hand
in life there are times and places
abundant
that we find ourselves falling into
relationships
feelings
people
and so rarely
do we feel like we are made to be there
but here
darling
is where i am supposed to be
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
These poems ****
I tell myself.
I follow a formula,
But it comes out tight.
I do it on my own,
It sounds too loose.
It’s loose in a sense,
That it came right from my flow of thoughts.
Off balance and perhaps preachy.
Maybe even redundant and bland.
Did that really come from me?
Where is this coming from?
WHO AM I!?
HOLY CHRISTMAS TREE!
Those words that I typed on my iTouch,
At midnight before a day of classes.
Please, just go to sleep already,
Jesus freaking Christ sitting with the Buddha in heaven,
GO TO SLEEP.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Someone has made my bed differently today,
For the covers are brown and rough,
I can't be certain who it was
that tucked it in so tightly at the sides,
(I always hated that...)
So constricting;
I cannot move.
Such discomfort.
It's almost as if I am trapped in some form of elaborate prison.
I really cannot bear this cover;
For it hardly keeps me warm at all.
So cold, so scratchy,
I feel frozen so that I cannot stir,
My skin, like ice.
And yet...
I rest so peacefully.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC