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Apologies for the mess.

I’m currently working on getting everything situated and put in order.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.

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Recent Posts

• Vigil
  by apchristopher
  June 15, 2021

  I put another flower on your grave today
  The ones I placed before were losing color in the shade
  Were growing duller as they grayed,
  For, like a little congregation, they were dying where they pray

  I placed a pair of roses there before your tomb
  The other ones, I guess, had been devoured by the snow
  And so they cowered, hidden low
  For, like the severed things they are, they were bereft of ways to bloom

  I placed another tulip where your body rests
  Yesterday, an orchid, and tomorrow, daffodils
  But like a sorrow seeks to kill
  They seem to wither like a promise that we never had to test

  I brought a new bouquet, it’s all I had to spare
  I’ve brought so very many but they never seem to last
  As if forever is the past
  Because I know you’re still alive and I’m just waiting for the day you meet me there

• Cutter
  by apchristopher
  June 13, 2021

  Arbitrary landscapes in a flutter ’round the cellar
  Are they moving interstellar
  Being fortune and the teller
  Not the sold and not the seller of the all consuming clutter

  Piling in monuments of other minor moments
  Where we measure in components
  Being growth and how we’ve grown it
  Into fountains full of foment fit to fade like just another

  Trivial pursuit that we discover, like an idol,
  Of a moon, and we the tidal
  Wave we soon would see a bridle
  Like a sun now suicidal with a mask of cloudy cover

  Statuary still and here we shudder all the while
  Putting factures into tile
  Like a pre-existing style
  Of the sad and how we smile when we see that we’re the cut and we’re the cutter
  

• Tranquilized
  by apchristopher
  June 10, 2021

  I set a set of shackles
  On my unassuming wrists
  So that in search of tender trysts
  I found a string of jaded jackals
  While my care and my concern all shrank to cries

  And lost, there in the brambles,
  Where beneath the swirling mists
  I looked for longing that I’d missed
  Among the me I left in shambles
  Keeping warm beneath a cloak of thankful lies

  I placed in all the places
  That I never could exist
  The woe of words upon a list
  That, even now, would conjure faces
  As I’m searching for a hope in hateful skies

  But lost are the reminders
  Of a pain that won’t persist
  As if a love I’ve never kissed
  Because I lost the will to find her
  So I let my heart continue
  Beating slowly through a thin view
  Where the depths of could’ve been are tranquilized

• Seeming
  by apchristopher
  May 28, 2021

  Wrapped up in the intimation of a figure stoic
  Wearing, even now, a garment partially heroic
  Speaking words I never really understood completely
  Uttered as if confidential whispering discreetly

  Standing here as if it mattered to you in the merest
  Modicum of meaning yet I held you, ever dearest
  Bolstering the feeble feeling that if I could barter
  More than what I had then maybe none would be the martyr

  Wrapped up in insinuation cauterized and scarring
  Underneath a gauze umbrella where the pain is jarring
  Lying through the teeth I’m gritting tight to hold the torrent
  Of the failing benediction you would never warrant

  Slipping slowly with a clatter made of apprehension
  In a field of memories I’ve learned to never mention
  Maybe all I’ve ever been is something you were dreaming
  Sadly, though, you’ve never seen me…all you’ve ever seen is how I’m seeming

• Confession
  by apchristopher
  May 19, 2021

  I feel as though I calculate
  And never make a single calculation
  I measure out the permanence that wasn’t really permanent
  In values organized in permutations

  I set a set of sliding scales
  Against the metaphors of old deception
  I find in the dividing there are only larger dividends
  To quantify the meaning of exception

  I feel like I’m conspiring
  But never wear the mask of conspiration
  I organize the images and elements and reasoning
  Until I cannot see a complication

  I put another piece in place
  Without a thought and, so, without concession
  I walk along a dotted line of severed veins and arteries
  And cannot hear the blood over the sound that I omit from each confession