Solving Situational Problems

Intertwined within the yarns of lightness

Are the madly approved flecks of love

Such specks detected as the morning rises

In retrospect the once most absent prizes

Most circumspect of circumstances

He dances to the tunes of others loved

At once a mother, a sister to a brother

A lover of the gathered few

In the fog, in the rain

The strain of thoughtless motivations

Grey skies, brown trees

They leave with his mind still floating

More hoping; coping with his words

Presupposing the readers will observe

Be overwhelmed by his verve

The swerve is more than welcomed

His nerve swelled he retells

Of the lovers drift of consciousness

& with this fading shout

The flickers of doubt are smothered out

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Almost Out Of The Woods

In this blissful halfway euphoric state

A few words, no more to it than that

As if the spirit of silence itself

Had been welcomed

Welcomed and then broken

Broken without tears or shouts

Of joy from the mountaintops

Nonetheless, to have half-breaths

Half-thoughts, half ideas

To have such energy

To surely desire this incompleteness

Such that the closure may be reopened

Be enthused as the doubts

Become warm doubts

The very essence of summer

Where all that is asked

Is to walk on soft sands

Stumble through grass filled dunes

Sit behind the car’s rain covered screen

Knowing that the stick and wire fences

Are there neither to keep us in

Nor to keep us out

Instead they are there to give stability

They are there as a positive force

Barriers that provide reassurance

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

It only took a photograph, or was it a painting

I walked to the beach today 

First, through your rose surrounded door 

No one was watching

My roar was silence itself, so far apart

Down the lane my footsteps went

One footfall; there was no other

If, as all the while, the quiet knew

This is how lovers stall

That was the lover’s view

There, with something & everything 

& nothing; out to follow the West wind

Rescind those thoughtless thoughts

Posted in reply

To your innocent letter

When angst got the better of you

& the better of my idealism

A schism that forced apart

The endless cynicism behind this art

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Risk

How easy to become unsettled

Such that one’s skin twitches

One looks on nervously, as doors

Open, and friendly foes approach

How long it took to choose

That word turned into phrase; then

In the flurry to make a fundamental

Error; a poor call, a bad judgement

In this search for creativity

Is it necessary to exaggerate

The realities of an ordinary

Life; spice it up with mischief

With unrest at hand can one

Write more tightly, of the cuts 

& the bruises; delineate the days

Of decay and disillusionment

That otherwise would have

Left your life quite well alone

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Waveforms

Gradually the impatience leaves; against the grey sky the fir tree moves so slowly, it is as if the distance calms the frequency of vibrations, takes the urgency out of the hot and bothered young man, gives him instead the serendipity of indifference, a future less of plans and ambitions, instead more of memories; of seashores and slate mines, aeroplanes and unexpected torments

The ploughed fields, ever bigger fields, with ever bigger ploughs, have accompanied his life’s progression thus far, but now the industry is falling out of him, the desire to achieve replaced by reflections of love; love past, love present, and what love might hold in the hours and days and weeks and months and years ahead, love of the many years ahead

The chimney stack, the weather vane; with less movement than the fir, are a slowness, a steadiness, a purity of times natural delights

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links