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Christopher Pitts Poem
The end of our dreams
flow in shattered discord
like a wineglass overturned
In our fruitless searches
bereavement impales
as we pour the bottle on the floor
Watching each drop
collect and pool
swirling in bitter waves
Our tongues are stained
with that sweet taste
rose tinted
with hints of sage
and as our spirits rise
from a body so fine
they will pour us in our graves
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2017
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Christopher Pitts Poem
a glowing gaze was slowly met
or so it at first had seemed
irises in-twined and slowly set
into these lover's dreams
they build their memories
the seconds pass
their breathe is lost
conversations made of gasps
the hearts inside their chest were robbed
once beating, now have stopped
still it lingers
as eons fade
with outstretched, reaching fingers
these lovers will forever stay
and search no other way.
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2012
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Christopher Pitts Poem
lingering embers lay smoldering out
fingers searching through ashes
rearranging, but always in doubt
to find all of the matches
re-piece all that matters
the dull glow lingers, hanging around
forcing my hands to shake
scattering remnants, moving about
escaping my baleful gaze
forever til the end of days
the lovely burn, or what so was thought
has drained me of all my ways
forever in flee, but finally caught
shes caught me, and so i'll stay
never to go away
rekindling a fire, set it ablaze
see how long its tongues last
no, not yet, I'm not ashamed
the warnings shall never pass
our love has shaped the glass
let sands pour, sinking in time
extinguishing all the fire
a grain for each second that i'm,
slowly becoming the liar
slowly becoming so tired
and once more the flames have gone
forever to never be anew
the future in the smoke has shown
of eyes so coldly blue
forever without you..
Christopher R. Pitts
12/1/12
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2012
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Christopher Pitts Poem
twisted branches cast their shadows
upon dusk infested gallows
slowly bringing up some shallow
hollow eyes, so full of fear
waiting out the fall and winter
with tighter ropes in wooden splinter
slipping into nooses center
taking lives away from here
captivated by death standing
a chilly hand all demanding
crowds have gathered, screaming, chanting
chants that rise into the air
guilty lined up, all are pleading
families gathered, crying, weeping
weeping for their loved receding
into reapers silent care
* still working *
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2013
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Christopher Pitts Poem
i cherish the days the flames had receded
abominations, full of scorn, forever retreated,
their will to taste the flesh, all but depleted.
a relationship built on death, no longer needed.
for passion and yearning, i never once fought,
a struggle, an attempt, forever forgot,
the affection, my inner soul, blooms, all but has rot.
bamboozled and betrayed, what a tender plot.
chris p. 11/10/12
its nothing special but i thought i'd give it a shot :)
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2012
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Christopher Pitts Poem
Lying here, I am eaten
The beast takes its last bite
On a cold and dreary evening
I begin to recount my life
Sliding past his teeth, I weep
Remembering all my strife
Trying to climb, with arms so weak
My pains increase and subside
Slipping past his tongue, I'm hung
Reaching one last time
My eyes close tight, when terrors sung
With a beastly sort of pride
Falling down his throat, I'm choked
My breath taken from inside
While hearing every ghastly note
The beast sings and cries
Past his lungs, all hope is gone
So hard I thought i tried
Into it's gut I'm finally done
Inside the beast I died
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2013
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Christopher Pitts Poem
deep beneath the ivory dome
pools of bending colors show
lashing out into the air
all around have stopped to stare
paint their faces to the sky
weaving out an endless lie
dripping down to blind their sight
weave them all into the night
the hazy fog obscures the view
all colors seem to start anew.
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2012
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Christopher Pitts Poem
golden flecks and reflected light
float slowly to the base
caught in hands reaching high
and splash against my face
painting my skin a golder tint
washing cares away
i give them my time to spend
and lay down in their grave
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2012
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Christopher Pitts Poem
cant believe the make believe
and speak as it was spoken
forced to bite my tongue
and break into the ocean
slipped off ledges filled with glass
and entangled in frustration
the water left its mark, and passed
and stole me from inflation
sinking down i begin to think of things i never knew
like why the grass is greener, and what if it was blue
the colors my eyes have seen could be different all the same
from yours or there's or anyone's, and those whose sights restrained
the smell of salt and scales, have filled me once again
and left me without thought of hope and breathing to begin
all life was lost, it was my past, distraught and always broken
to begin where i had once began, and strive towards the ocean
fought with sea and ship, with bays and freshwater shores
to end up sinking once again, in thoughts that could be yours
the hole inside my lungs collapse and fill me with the void
the water taking back its past, and culling me to shore
i rise and rise till all i see, is hidden in a dream
i wake to find the water soaked, into my shaky skin
burning lungs and boiling eyes, from pressures of the base
the things i see have taken shape, brought me into shame
the legs i flail, and arms i toss, have helped me once before
but all has changed, and all is lost, to the ocean floor.
-Christopher R. Pitts
Form: verse?
*was one of the first poems i wrote that made me want to keep writing. i still love reading it.*
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2012
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Christopher Pitts Poem
from sightless eyes, the words were spoken,
of hearts stopped beating, and bones, broken.
a fight broke out that friend nor foe can,
fend off at all, with gold or token.
through-out the night, and day it lingered,
with hearts ceased beating, and bones, splintered.
a fight that felt as cold as winter,
that bore no loss, or hope of winner.
unseen by any, who could, in fact,
help hearts not beating, and bones, cracked.
a fight that seemed, would forever, last,
always future, present, past.
as sharp, and clear, as child's laughter,
were hearts quit beating, and bones, shattered.
a fight in darkness, that just got blacker,
and swallowed whole anything that mattered.
Copyright © Christopher Pitts | Year Posted 2012
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