Best Christopher Poems
Someone said, Hey Christopher
Someone said, “Hey Christopher,
what’s up with all this love
It seems in every poem
that is all you’re thinking of
Why are you always dreaming,
why is it you can’t see
That love is just a legend,
a made up fallacy
The world is filled with evil,
don’t you watch the news
CNN or NBC
or others you can choose
Clinton is a liar,
Trump is just a creep
They’ll both destroy the nation
for fortunes that they reap
Murders by the thousands,
death is in the streets
I can’t believe you haven’t seen
within the many tweets
Our water is polluted,
we’re choking on the air
Hate is growing rapidly,
why are you not aware
Prices through the ceiling,
paychecks in the ground
Protesters are screaming,
you can hear them all around
There’s war in other countries,
servers have been hacked
Innocent bystanders
are caught in the attack
Little kids are crying,
not enough to eat
Begging just to make it,
sleeping in the street
So tell me, will you Christopher,
what’s up with what you write
Every poem filled with love,
morning, noon and night”
I looked at him a moment,
this person I now see
And then replied, “I’m sorry sir,
were you talking to me?
I was writing out a poem
for the one I do adore
I didn’t hear you talking,
could you say it all once more?”
He just walked away shaking his head
In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
In the Pinta, Nina and Santa Marie
He found the New World,
And got spooked by a squirrel.
Thats the last you heard of C.C.
God had created the New World.
And saw that it was good.
In mystery it remained covered,
Till Columbus came and discovered
Just as his Lord knew that he would.
He sailed with the blessing of Spain
And when he dicovered the land,
He named it after Amerigo Vespucci,
('Cause he had not yet heard of Gucci,)
As God instructed him beforehand.
Charlie Pelota HSLP
How Christopher Columbus
Discovered America, isn't clear.
If I'm not mistaken, the natives
Already knew it was here.
Won a third
Searching for the meaning
Through science and space
But it’s all in a name
That his purpose was placed.
Christ-Bearer,
Care taker,
Home maker,
And more.
Loyalty,
Love,
Is what he adores.
Adventure
And laughter
Fills his spontaneous mind,
His generous endeavors
Are utterly sublime.
Radiant light
Breathes through his sapphire eyes
A Smile that awakens every sunrise.
Courageous and aware
His mere presence is rare
Delicate devotion
God’s unique potion
A leader of angels
A Samaritan to strangers
A tower of virtue
For a moment
Stood
in my view.
By: Sabina Nicole
CHRISTOPHER, BLAIR AND CLAIRE
Young Blair was a shy boy,
Somewhat a nerd,
He just simply could not make a friend,
The nursery school teacher,
Who was my mum,
Enjoyed her job so,
She was never glum.
Christopher was the lively one in the class,
There was a seesaw and jungle gym
On the grass,
Teacher told Christopher to please
Play with Blair,
Christopher asked, may I also bring Claire?
Claire was Christopher’s imaginary friend,
She was real to Christopher,
He didn’t pretend!
Break time, teacher and helpers were about,
As two dozen screaming children ran out!
Christopher very mischievous,
Thought of a plan
Quite excited, he said to himself, I’ll do it
Tomorrow if I can!
The next day,
He took something out of his school case
Put it in his pocket and showed a bland face.
Break time was very soon
Christopher thought,
And hid behind his back what
He had brought!
He whispered all, to imaginary Claire,
Don’t be afraid silly,
You sound too goody, goody and frilly!
He went up to Blair,
And put out his hand,
Do you really want to be my friend?
Then eat this, Blair desperately wanted
To be his friend,
So took a very big bite and went quite red
Blair spluttered and cried,
And gave everyone, a huge fright.
Teacher ran to the scene and found a
Half bitten chilli
Lying on the ground,
But Christopher was nowhere around,
He couldn’t be found!
I’m on fire teacher, the poor
Young boy said,
As his nose also bled!
Teacher had already phoned
The local doctor,
Christopher was now hiding, the little actor
Blair was asthmatic, which was another
Contributing factor!
Plump Doctor Dawson, said Blair
Would be fine,
Teacher did a headcount as the
Children fell into line,
She had a lost child, was about to
Call the police,
When Christopher appeared,
He wanted to make peace!
I’m sorry teacher he said, but girls
Are really naughty,
Claire made me do this terrible deed,
Which was grotty!
Christopher then offered Blair a hand,
Covered in grease,
The two boys wanted their cold war
To cease!
Being yet a child, and still with innocence,
Christopher said to imaginary Claire,
Come over here, and play
With me and Blair!
This is a true Story
his words come trough with such fierce emotion
a strong brother with pride and devotion
he writes from his heart and when he starts
he continues till the ink runs dry
sticking to his beliefs and holding his heritage close
he injects us with another dose of reality
we tend to stray a bit too far away from the truth
then comes along this man who reminds us of our roots
although we never met in our words we built a bond
remaining true to ourselves and spreading the word
that many are scared to hear
he comes through throwing punches of lifes little secrets
reminding us that in our minds we must keep it
his poetry is devine and makes us feel in different ways
showing us that the world today is still like it was back in the days
i wish i could say more about my new friend but this is hardly the end
a new dawn will arise and pens and paper are in his hand
he's ready to take us on new journeys in his mothers land
oh how they don’t like it when one of their own
turns on them,
oh how they don’t like it when he gets a gun---
oh how easily they lie when their lies are exposed &
now Mr. Dorner is dead,
just like they planned.
as parallels are made with Waco &
the buzz clips show the forceful roasting of the cabin in which
Dorner hid for his last moments,
the audio exchanges of the officers in question who
intentionally deployed the burners in order to
set it aflame & reduce it to rubble,
echo a tune that we all know too well---
that the pigs oinking round in the LAPD are good at what they do &
that is wielding
unbridled violence---
as they have done in the past,
so they continue in the present.
so does it make you feel more safe, america,
when those that get paid to “protect us”
end up getting burnt to ash
because they complained about the rampant racism
that flourishes within those very police departments
in which they work
&
were subsequently fired?
will you get in line & again,
as in
EVERY CASE OF GUN VIOLENCE IN THE EMPIRE,
point the finger at the shooter &
refuse to ask any questions as to
why
someone ends up unloading on people?
is it easier for you to sleep at night,
now that one man has been burnt to ash
after being hunted by the very organization in which he was
once employed?
you don’t smell a rat in the sewer?
nawww…it’s just so much easier to think that the state
has your back &
then change the channel with one hand while
stuffing your face with Doritos
with the other
(so you don’t have to see the footage of the flames),
isn’t it.
Christopher Plummer, an icon of silver screen,
most elegant of actors there has ever been,
be it the Sound of music or King Lear on stage,
Your exceptional acting defied time and age.
2nd placement
Written 11/01/2022
Celebrity epitaph poetry contest
Michelle Faulkner sponsored
12 syllables x 4 lines
Christopher Grayling
Little lost boy at the foot of the bed
Poop on his little hands, little bald head
Sssh. He's moving his lips
Christopher Grayling's imagining ships
© Gail Foster 13th February 2019
Christopher Columbus’s claims were outlandish.
Queen Isabella was truly upstandish.
The court said he would fall off the edge.
So they bombarded him with mean sledge.
The queen still gave three ships to trycandish.
I’ll tattoo your name across my flesh
And let the light
Penetrate the symbols of who you are
I was raised up by a soldier
A warrior, a poet
Who taught me to support the weight of the label they gave you
To be the branch that does not bough with the load
I won’t forget to remember the brilliance
Grief is released to soar
Across carefree innocence
Green with youth fading into pastels
Fading into memory
At a children’s book exhibit
With amazing things on view,
I was struck to find a case
Which had the one and only Pooh.
In the same display was Eeyore,
Roo and Kanga, even Tigger;
All were gifts to son from father
Every year as he got bigger.
Now the son, Christopher Robin,
Was the hero of the books
So his character was given
All his foibles, traits and looks.
Though it looked quite sweet and tender,
I once heard a different tale –
That the son despised his father
Once those books were put on sale.
So it’s wise to then consider
What our kids will really think
If we choose to share their stories –
They may someday need a shrink.
But it could have been avoided
Had the hero been called “Joe;”
Then Chris Robin could have basked in glory,
Incognito, though.
The curious case
Of
Christopher Flaherty
Who began and started out in life with
a perfectly normal human sized brain
Born with a wise old head on his
shoulder's old before his time
That over time and age regressed
And shrunk into the size of a tiny little
pettit-poi pitt
A fair haired good looking newborn
dribbling from the mouth
Barely able to hold a conversation or
converse precisely yet instantaneously
esthetically rememberable
Decked out and adorned in a bibb wearing
nappies
Sipping from a sippy cup fed by means
of entertaining aeroplane game's
And how he ended up with the most apt
fitting nickname
Christopher
Pee-Wee
Pea-Brain
Flaherty
Who fell victim to age old adage
If you do not exercise or use it
There is a distinct possibility
You may just loose it
And seeing your life being played out
on the silver screen
By some or other guy you may or may not
have ever heard of or come across in your
life before
Who everybody else seems to know or have
in fact heard of and goes bye the name of
and is simply called
Brad Jolie or Anniston I think
Anyhow matter's not as we all know
how this storyline goes
Curiosity ends up kill's the cat in
the end like Tom & Jerry
And besides ive just eat all
of the greens on my plate
And we all know what that spell's
and means to a baby
What follows is
P-U-D-D-I-N----G
Time
Columbus was not the slightest bit offended
At King Ferdinand's dismissive sound
When he declared the world was round,
His was not a plan that very many comprehended.
Though the queen, Isabella, thought Chris a fine fella,
Her spouse wanted nor hair nor hide of it.
"The horizon", he snarled, "marks the edge of the world."
But Capt. C. was convinced that the horizon was not the edge of the world and that India was somewhere on the other side of it.
"Well, the subject is moot, Spain is broke, we've no loot.
Coffers practically bare, no dinero to spare,
Such a venture is out of the question.
Why not Egypt, or Malta, or Crete, or Gibraltar,
Or something cheaper that we can invest in?"
As Chris started to go, Isabella cried, "Whoa!
Let's dispense with pecunious tomfoolery.
Though we've no ready cash for a project so brash,
I could hock some, or all, of my joolery."
So three ships were anointed, and westward they pointed,
And the horizon they bravely set sail for it.
But the monarchs soon bailed when Chris' treasure search failed,
And to Spain he returned, but no honors he earned.
Instead, he was stripped of command and put in jail for it.
Later, of course, his accomplishment was plain,
And a whole New World was laid open for Spain.
No, Columbus wasn't looking for America when he "found" it,
He just couldn't seem to navigate three caravels around it.
For Columbus Day
October 10, 2022
You came to my door
And right from the start
You lied and you cheated
- A perfected art
You told all your stories
Of troubles and woes
Were building a web
For those did not know
You where good with your tales
Of things you could do
You built up a trust
Of people to use
You caused so much anguish
And never did care
You lied for the money
And never heard pray
You destroyed so much trust here
And left such a mess
You stole and you cheated
And you know the rest
You ripped me off big time
I’ll never forget
You left me with hardship
I can’t even rest.
Your name burns on my brain
And thoughts are like stone
I’ll bury you now
Along with old bones