"It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone. That is where the writer scores over his fellows: he catches the changes of his mind on the hop."

-Vita Sackville-West



Thursday, August 04, 2005

A Chance of Rain

On days like this
when the sky is bruised,
the world is a stage
where thought is the script.
As tears fall from the ceiling
and shatter like crystal
onto the pages of life
wisdom writes a tragedy
and names it after you.

-Kris

The Surrealist

Living in a dull, grey dream
nothing disturbs your sweet sleep.
You play the artist
and color the nightmare
with your own hand,
but the crtic sees
your glaring errors
staring back
at a painful reality.
Remember
the bright white lights
on a fool's masterpiece
reveal every mistake.

-Kris

Breaking Point

False word.
False action.
Truth inside;
unspoken.
Compressed in life,
oppressed in feeling.
This defies logic;
churning in a guarded bottle.
Watch it fall to pieces.

-Kris

Sun Catcher

Break away
these jagged shards
of crystal.
Disguised lies
etched upon the
broken glass
of shattered windows.
Catch the evening sun
and scatter it
across the floor
while you watch
the colors
fade.

-Kris



Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Stargazing

The night sky seems brilliant
speckled with shining stars
but you've been idle here for so long
and a shooting star ignores your wish.
Instead it falls to the earth
crashing into the crust of your soul
destroying the world u worked so hard to build
leaving craters where your triumphs once stood.
The beauty has become gruesome
it is a deadly catalyst
and sends your delicate equilibrium into chaos.
You manifest your sorrow in bloody tears
each one adds to the ocean
where you swim in your grief.
The abyss beckons you
calling you by name
and pulling you in.
Its force overcomes you
and you find it easier to sink
than fight for life on the surface.

-Kris



Friday, April 15, 2005

Distortion

This glowing resurrection
the essence of perfection
you've stolen from a mind
made of crystal rhetoric
but in your faded eyes
even this becomes distorted
twisted beyond recognition
and thrown into the raging sea
of a lost world
yet you feel it still
gasping for precious air
on vacant shores
waiting patiently
for your blind heroism.

-Kris



Saturday, February 12, 2005

Liar

Every footstep adds to your journey,
their echoes your only company;
the sad melody of a broken record.

But you continue on
hearing applause in the wind
from a crowd so distant.

They believe your every word
and refuse the truth
you have kept inside.

You've made it so distant now
and inside it slowly fades
like a defeated, dying sun.

-Kris



Friday, February 11, 2005

Empty Shell

Barren, lifeless
devoid of meaning
you stand alone
like an empty shell.

Fragile,
you break with no resistance
as you crash upon the floor.

You lay shattered,
your pieces scattered
but they release no soul.

-Kris