Know

I could have stood tall
I could have done that more often
I could have walked further
I could have done that more often

I might still be there
I might still be elsewhere
I might still be otherwise
I might still be thankful

I may be so so far away
So far you couldn’t possibly notice
I may be so so far away
So far I couldn’t really tell

I never did play ukulele
I never did strike a chord
I never did find your drumbeat
I never did fall on the sword

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website

Half A Sine Wave, Or More

Already on this summer’s morning
There is music in the distance
To compliment the waterfall
And the clear blue sky

Of late I have become absorbed
In a search for a description
A way to capture a raison d'être
For that fleeting experiential feeling

Where the shortest of times
Takes one to the longest of times
Where the ripples on the pond
Signify the continuum of existence

And so I listen to Erik Satie
Indeed I am with him
In his exquisite Paris apartment
Before we go to the pavement café

As the music moves on
So the pigeon moves on
Clearly they are less fond
Of the TMS cricket commentary

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website

Half A Sine Wave, Or Less

In that time
Of less than a moment
Where only
The mysterious feeling is felt

I call it mysterious yet feel sure
That it is fuelled by longing
Where one word is way less
Yet way more than a sentence

I don’t believe that the couple
Who sat by the window
Spoke a single word
As they drank their coffee

No doubt caught up
In their very own insecurities
Where the deep, penetrating silence
Is happy to scurrilously linger

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website

Nattered

Today it was
The Evening Primrose
Today it was
The scent of my own skin
With the circulation
Ever warmer
When in my bed
I did lay

My blood is going somewhere
My blood is going nowhere
My legs are tributaries
Off the old canal
My thoughts are the thoughts
Of some long-held
Misunderstandings, my temptations
Lead me to where I am

Last night it was
The sleep, or rather the lack of it
Last night it was
The dreams
With poetry’s words
Forever recurring
As in my bed
I did lay

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website

Polly

You didn’t have to die
To be amazing
But you did die
And it was amazing

I can’t tell you now
Because you are gone
But the church was rammed
Jam-packed to the rafters

Truth, beauty, honesty, courage
Fighting for one’s own
Those words were spoken
In spadefuls of abundance

Anecdotes of your humanity
From all faiths and none
Nothing but good judgements
On this your judgement day

Even your teacher’s report glowed
Not a contradictory note heard
Although had you been there
Questions might have been raised

There was an awful lot of yellow
For that is just one colour
Which we all remember
That you wore with high-spirited grace

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website