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A simple conversation creates laughter
And then we stare into each other's eyes
In that moment we are all that matter
Emotions transform as fear slowly dies

Tenderness in touching leaves us exposed
Gentle kissing ignites extreme passion
The hastened subsiding of fear has slowed
We commence to hide in our own fashion

Quickly, excitement gives way to distance
Physical and mental escapes combine
Togetherness switches to resistance
Real feelings are where we have drawn the line

Denial of anything to profess
Within the magic of a last caress

© Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved.
A thousand times I tried to say
I'm walking away from you,
Forget the clichés and the games that you play,
There's only room for one fool.
Pour gasoline,
And strike up the match,
Burn all your bridges
And breathe in the ash,
There will be no phoenix
Between you and I,
Once it's all gone
Our connections will die.
You drop the sword
And I'll hold the shield,
It's all make-believe
Prophecies unfulfilled,
Your love for me was cavalier,
Unreachable like Space,
Maturity was never your forte
And one day you'll be put into place.
 Jan 2014 TearsOfChronus
st64
stuck
 Jan 2014 TearsOfChronus
st64
standing on the threshold of change, I await a fresh-line
but the universe may be unready
if not, I may take to choppy-waters
all by myself


1.
if we are all stuck in the jam of time
perhaps, if we *spread it out
real thin
some of us could actually lift off
and catch a ride.. out
free some hostage from the twisting temporal-joints

and the wool-gatherers mind their business
and footsore beggars dine on exotic-things
deep in the heart of the jungle
where Nebuchadnezzar parked his dreams of old

by saving your surprise for a weekday jaunt
we limp on in the vacant-dust of paradox
yet get unavoidably detained by the present
undo the ribbons and the package may unfold its.. things
espy the tick-tock riding the margin of fright

common sense of morn lies delightfully unfinished
and the wrong side of a bold idea gets squashed
the brain-weary ingest their lot and plough on through thickets of tricky-fate
while tiptoeing silent on the farthest-blades of brimstone
holding subtly aloft.. the frankness of aiding-spectres


2.
balloon of green, balloon of blue
hold out your hand and pray you get no inequalities of flame
easy catch of the sound of science scoffing in the parlour

when we try to do something different; take a chance
uncivilised-humour will argue the rings off your punctured-lobes
any germ of new plan must needs be nurtured
let any frenemy go; intolerant-ilk do better by their vacuous selves
remarkably convenient
there's almost enough water in the well
to soak up the ivory-rays and let them fly
and there's a breeze lifting the needle off the ancient-groove
spinning reels on the bay


no, you will never convince me
that the time-keeper holds all keys
'cos I snuck out furtive.. late one night
and sawed through.. for a whole decade
and well, guess what I have here..



:)




S T - 24 Jan 2014
if you spromed, then I sprocketed
whiling away telubrious fallies
upon the jousters of Dorbeyville
canta-laughter and rent-a-carter

why.. hello, future..
see here, I light my smoke uncut
and dare to peer into you :)






sub-entry: footprints

whether the bells toll in odd-clang
wait for the crash of the cymbal
diffident-dreamer makes moves so small
no attention-seeking

when the waters run silent
beneath the rocks cavernous
and upon sandy shores

there, some footprints
of some erstwhile-reverie
a dream late last night
I felt you walk beside me

look again.. our footprints
and a plain-line
where you towed away my heart

open your hand, my friend
your life-line just grew some more
and what's that under your nails?
fine-grains of white mirage-sand

there's this key in the locks of time's braids
time to undo the plaits
Sometimes the sun is not heard,
The world is silent yet, is living
Cold, the moon stirs not even
As it is rising, the birds are mute
The trees and oceans are still
All things are pointed and dull.
I hear a lonesome hound baying
At the empty skies when clouds
Are covering with a smear of smoke.
Where are the words that are never
Said?  What light burns my eyes,
Darkening most at the days zenith?
What is the language for sanity?
Why is there no math, no translation
For the heart?

Sometimes the sun is missing
Or lost by a sea of tears raining
In collusion with the shifty earth,
Sometimes the numbering stars
Are merely zeros, the die casting
On the green and desperate table
Of the turning world.  Sometimes
The sun sinks early to the west
And the moon is trailing not far
Behind.
Two friends sit alone outside the campus pond on a cool fall night under a blanket of distant stars and wrapped in the misleading warmth of whiskey. They don’t speak often, but pass between them a flask. After a prolonged moment of silence:

“Do you ever wonder if, in five or ten years, we’re going to look back on all of this and regret everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, every decision you ever made here. Every fight you had, every girl you ever slept with. Every night you went out and partied instead of doing your work, or, every night you stayed in and did work while your friends lived their lives.

The major and classes you chose, and skipped. The types of beer you drank, and where you spent your free time. Every friend you made and every friend you lost. Every heart you passed by and never allowed to open up to you. Every time you opened your own heart and had it closed for you.

Really, every chance you never took, and every chance you shouldn’t have taken. The extent of your life leading up to where you will be. The choices in your life, big or small, that will have made you who you will become.”

“I guess it depends on who I’ve become.”

“What if you’ve become no one?”

“Well, in that light, I think it would be impossible not to. But no one is still someone. They’ve still been somewhere, they’ve still done something.”

Behind them the wind blew across the water, breaking the reflection of the moon into shards of glass while the whiskey ran dry.
Exposing myself despite feeling fear
The cold night air is intoxicating
Conversation builds as frights disappear
The heart skips knowing what I’m awaiting

Dancing together the world seems to halt
Hand within hand and eyes locked as we kiss
This amazing free spirit I exalt
Tomorrow this night I will greatly miss

The night comes to an end with a soft touch
I want to freeze time stopping this car clock
These tender touches lead to yearning much
Your beauty creates feelings to unlock

After those brief moments of elation
I am longing for continuation

© Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved
Sonnet about a terrific night with a friend.
Pulling on wings
Slowly and delicately
I hear the screaming
Expressing my fears
I continue to pull
This hurts me
I hear the crying
My sadness is appreciated
This enables me to continue
I am feeding myself
I want to cut deep
I need this
Contradictions are my life
Duality defines me
I want to hurt you immensely
I want to be the only one
The only one who can heal you
I need you to love me
I am slowly dying
I want you to bleed with me
But I will feel guilty
I have pain to give
I will always try to hurt you
I will always love you!

© Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved
Free verse poem written from the perspective of someone ending a relationship but wanting or even needing the other person to ache for reconciliation.  It pains the person leaving and he/she can not fully let go, thus holding the other person's heart hostage.  Some people need to be needed but resent it at the same time.
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