Posts tagged writing

A Dream Away


There’s not a day that passes that I don’t sit and imagine
If this skill would just develop, all the things that would just happen
How this fucking cage I’m in and the hole that I feel trapped in
Would fall to shreds and vanish and leave me in it’s ashes
So I could rise up like a phoenix and look down at all you bastards
With the fury of thousand words, I’ll leave you feeling plastered
Cause the skill that I just mastered dimmed the lights on Mr. Passive
And I’m the one who stood tall preaching bullshit to the masses
I’m just sick of all your “classes” and the beat downs and darkness
These fucking words I hold so dear can leave me feeling heartless
Like a bomb in your apartment, I will blow the fucking roof off
And then lower my own tone to the point I think it’s too soft
I will knock their fucking shoes off with my grasp on my emotions
To me it’s just a silly rhyme, but to them it’s all just poems
And people all around the world, though I’ll never know them
Will tell me that they love me and my words help to console them
And then I’ll go and show them the whole lighter side of living
The fun in being stupid and the joy in the sometimes sinning
The way to make a joke even if the time’s not fitting
Cause if we can not laugh, then I’m simply fucking quitting
But right now I’m just here sitting and praying they don’t find
Hiding from the assholes who love to fucking grind me
The way they bark their orders, the way they love to try me
One day is just a dream away and then I’ll redefine me

Notes: Crude and rough, but figured I might as well post it anyway.

Scribbling and Rhyming


This is for the people who keep telling me to do this
And for every mother fucker who has ever said it’s stupid
These words are for the assholes who begged for their attention
Who picked apart every word and questioned their intention
Cause suspension of this talent was done without disgression
I silenced my whole message in an act of self protection
That prevention of the anger only served to raise aggression
And now I’m boiling over and it’s aimed in your direction
This confession is supported by years of condescension
Every single letter is my means of shedding tension
This skill was my obsession and a major fucking passion
But the friction that it caused took away a lot of traction
As I spun in the reactions and the anger and the hatred
Of the people who stood closest, those anything by faceless
I wasted so much thought on giving you those pages
You crushed me with demands, you were bold and fucking shameless
But the phases that I’m facing, the humility and patience
A brand new way of life that I’m putting through it’s paces
Brings me to these pages and makes me think of writing
Just a little inspiration goes a long way to igniting
Cause now I’m sighing, fighting, flying, scribbling and rhyming
Typing every letter like there’s treasure for the finding
I’m mining through my mind again, I’m sick of all the hiding
Nobody I should aim to please, just my subject and my timing

Notes: I’m putting a new focus on trying to get back to writing as well as I used to. This is simply an explanation of why I stopped. It’s not that great, but I hope it’s a positive step in the right direction.



It revs and it revs and it never gets started
The flow never kicks, but I can’t disregard it
When I’m feeling best, this always gets hardest
I feel like a fluke and a floundering artist
Am I just a dude who will always be starless
With nothing to show for and nothing to start it
I look for ignition but nothing can spark it
When this mind’s at ease, I can feel so retarded
Cause I can’t get it started or light up the fire
When this writing is needed and not just desire
When time calls for venting and pressure builds higher
This drug is the goal for which I aspire
But I’m like a tower with crumbling spire
Hope left to waste until everything’s dire
Too late to fix it and no point to try it
The door’s fucking shut and nothing can pry it
And nothing can hide it and nothing can break it
Nothing incites it; I’m not one to fake it
I once knew it all but now I’m mistaken
Nothing is known; it’s hard to keep pace with
And tough to keep patience when everything’s failing
A mind falls to waste while the words lay there flailing
Pain made for sailing but now in contentment
I find too much peace and so much resentment
But I can not vent it or lay down a sentence
I’m like the student who snoozed through the lessons
The spotlight brings tension, I spit out these guesses
A jumble of words that increases these messes

Notes: Just trying to get a few lines written down for the sake of it. I’ve done better, but it’s better than nothing (for me).

Cheap Suture


Allow me to brush the dust away from this pen
These words are important, so I play and pretend
The way that I mended and stayed til the end
Now the skill is a blur and it’s faded again
Is it fate that it ends? Or am I being stupid?
Is rhyming out thoughts simply silly and useless
I used to use this to settle my fuses
Now fog settles in and I can’t seem to do this
Cause it used to be music, so calming and soothing
Like waves on a flame when the anger was brooding
The hatred was moving even when I was losing
I thought in these rhymes when awake and when snoozing
But I misconstrued it and took all my bruises
The words were my precious, but left me so putrid
If I wanted hope for a bright sunny future
Why waste all the fuel on a cheap fucking suture?
And now I’m the loser and the stitches have broken
Every word wasted was every word spoken
I told the whole world, I told her and told him
I told you, I told me, I put it in motion
And stirred up commotion and left the door open
I wasted my words like a last drop of potion
And now this explosion might be the last for a while
Cause I wasted it all and behaved like a child

Need a Dose


Why’s it so hard to sort my thoughts?
There’s smiles and scars, then all gets lost
There’s not one source that’s strong enough
The straw I picked’s not long enough
So it all gets stuck and fades to dust
There’s been no pain; betray my trust
Tell me you love to hate my guts
Just tell me something, make it up
Cause I can’t sit up and pick it up
I try to write but then mix it up
If nothing breaks, can’t fix it up
I don’t have the skill to switch it up
Cause it’s fisticuffs or empty lines
I need the black to flood my mind
I need the red to cull my eyes
I need the pain to dull the lights
I need a dose of all those things
The painful hate and all it brings
It’ll make me write and make me sing
It’ll make me seek to dull the sting
Cause dullness stings and eats at me
It’s boring and can’t preach to me
The fighting is what speaks to me
So, I’ll fight the world or even me

Notes: Very fast paced. It’s meant to be a quick depiction of the feeling and thought, not an in-depth analysis.

Another goodbye to Neowin


It’s never an easy decision and the first go round didn’t actually last all that long, but I’ve decided to leave Neowin, again.

There’s really not much to say about it, to be honest. I haven’t been writing any news, as I’ve mentioned before, and my recent health issues have really sapped away any motivation I would normally have to write. When I do get the urge to write, I want it to be on this site, even if it is for free and won’t get many views. I want to see what I can do here as far as mixing my person life with my general viewpoints and see if I can attract more visitors. I’m already considering posting a “Bang On” column here, once I actually find something to rant about.

Thanks to Mike, by the way. He and I used to clash a lot, but we’ve since overcome that and he dealt with a lot of heat for supporting my usually controversial columns.

Letter to a Friend


You’re the only one who never gets tired of listening
Whether I’m elated or burdened or rebellious and picketing
When the air is there thickening and it’s hard to inhale
You prevail though it all and will not let me fail
Cause this tale can repeat a bit and be a bit stale
My money’s been lacking and my soul is on sale
I’ve been blazing a trail that leads me to nowhere
Though, sometimes, I think the world wants me to go there
Left in the cold where I can start to grow numb
Left all alone there without love or the sun
Just shadows and visions that dance until one
A singular hatred for what’s said and been done
But, in my head, you’re the one who makes it all better
A patch and a stitch can help keep me together
When all hope has been severed, you sew up the pieces
You gather my thoughts and then give them a reason
Like signs for a cause or expressions of treason
You dictate the scene and give it its meaning
When everyone’s leaving, you insist on remaining
Like a break from the cold, an umbrella when raining
Like strength when mine’s waning and air when I’m breathless
Sedation at night when I am nothing but restless
I am never left helpless with you as my friend
A letter from Chris to my paper and pen

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