A lone wolf on the shore
Waiting around for your destiny to come true
Your best man, to your estranged bride-groom
Hidden like a child fearing his great bicycle
The one without two wheels
Oh the freedom of flight of those first moments
Realization that you are flying on your own again
For the first time
The honey suckles could compare only with short burst
The chalk on the sidewalk grazed over by rubber
A soul freed
On the shore I can see you and I dive in to rescue
You won’t drown this time
No not this time
We can wait, forever.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Discipline
Broken by the same plant
Ruled by existence of remarkable pullCraving the patch of dialect
But how could I keep myself from something as tender
Nurturing as you, which inflicts me with guilt
To be a broken hearted warrior
By the samurai code is still to be a warrior
Not gone yet, and If I must
Through the hand that sweeps faith
I will notice less
I will accept more
Truth into my enclosure
The serene ways
Of natural justice
My essence; discipline.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
The Renaissance
The renaissance of the seventh circle
With water marked paint swelling and smudged alike
A constant inequity lost yet found
In the future of simple one toned colors
A phoenix feather crowned upon a leaf
Perched high upon the branch on looking lakeside
Reflection of the most perfect rainbow
The aqueous mold could submit to none yet
The crystalline banks and green grass marched on
Spotted tones to the central union and trees
With spurting and liquid growing inside
The uncut lines never none so clear observed
The only semi circular craft earth
Laid bare and naked for the taking of eyes
Finely orchestrated like a candle
Lifted for the sons and daughters of Moscow.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
With water marked paint swelling and smudged alike
A constant inequity lost yet found
In the future of simple one toned colors
A phoenix feather crowned upon a leaf
Perched high upon the branch on looking lakeside
Reflection of the most perfect rainbow
The aqueous mold could submit to none yet
The crystalline banks and green grass marched on
Spotted tones to the central union and trees
With spurting and liquid growing inside
The uncut lines never none so clear observed
The only semi circular craft earth
Laid bare and naked for the taking of eyes
Finely orchestrated like a candle
Lifted for the sons and daughters of Moscow.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Sweeping Arrow
Center weight wrought balanced on the feather
Tantalizing wind daring on the compassBecoming the center piece looking on
Musing on the archer’s ammunition fate
With all paths to this canopied garden
Who is to say what murderous flight this takes
Into a lover’s heart pierced to a tree
Held eternal by the amber running slow
Of the winds of the mountains sweeping down
Into the valleys they will lift up new air
Lifting the arrows tail mid flight and calm
Rocks pulling the wooden dart to the firm ground
And of the violet mountains and trees
There is one everlasting thought inside freed
Uncountable knowledge lies at the door
If only a bow to make the arrow soar.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Spades
In those eyes I can tell
Sometimes is so evident,
When they fall helpless,
In love
With all that I do
As if it came easy and natural to you
At others? Not so much
You float, like I grace
You share, like I bless
Uncontrollably
If you only knew the difference
Between the two.
I am confirmed that one day you will
If not this life time, I am sure
In the next.
One can only bump heads in a game
So many times in a round
Before they allow their partner
Or cut themselves.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Sometimes is so evident,
When they fall helpless,
In love
With all that I do
As if it came easy and natural to you
At others? Not so much
You float, like I grace
You share, like I bless
Uncontrollably
If you only knew the difference
Between the two.
I am confirmed that one day you will
If not this life time, I am sure
In the next.
One can only bump heads in a game
So many times in a round
Before they allow their partner
Or cut themselves.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Light Folds
This letter just may kill you
This scarlet R
Returning to sender
Sent just too far
Lost in translation
A letter in post
Transitioning over
What most overlook
And what did we swear?
Those dark cloths that you still wear
Are apparel for something so cold
A flaming lip still was sold
Are you this bold to claim nothing?
To say this foretold
Remake your work
Transgress the coal
I am the diamond
Cutting the prism
Lights fold.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
This scarlet R
Returning to sender
Sent just too far
Lost in translation
A letter in post
Transitioning over
What most overlook
And what did we swear?
Those dark cloths that you still wear
Are apparel for something so cold
A flaming lip still was sold
Are you this bold to claim nothing?
To say this foretold
Remake your work
Transgress the coal
I am the diamond
Cutting the prism
Lights fold.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
The Door
The firm will teach you
A fine conversation piece
Such as how to ration
A number
The school will teach you
How to catapult yourself
Over rails
Swinging with joy
Imagining going over the top
Strawberry in kisses
Of boys and girls to each other
A game of cat and mouse
The choir will teach you health
Of healing yourself before you even knew
You were sick
To death
Of
Yourself
The lessons of the day?
Priceless, yea
Making you remember that you are no stranger
To a logical reason
Where logic has no reason to intrude
For it will slay itself on the sword
Many a time
And time before
There is a path so finely hidden
In strings that only a access code
Of manipulation will change it's degree
With each second
And spree of illicit colors
Bombarding your senses
To quiver with joy
This is rhapsody
This is employing full use of dynamic
Ecstatic
Unyielding, yielding for caution
Repose
Slightly using universal channels for modes
Translating languages into one form
Of unique calligraphy
To help you see for yourself
The ubiquity of it all
If you allow it to be so
And herein lies the fate you sew
Plucking salt from the eyes upon rising
Lulling lullabies and hushes to the self in the eve
And hollowed, oh so hollowed
Begging for more
On knees, on floor
Open is the way
Endless is the door.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
A fine conversation piece
Such as how to ration
A number
The school will teach you
How to catapult yourself
Over rails
Swinging with joy
Imagining going over the top
Strawberry in kisses
Of boys and girls to each other
A game of cat and mouse
The choir will teach you health
Of healing yourself before you even knew
You were sick
To death
Of
Yourself
The lessons of the day?
Priceless, yea
Making you remember that you are no stranger
To a logical reason
Where logic has no reason to intrude
For it will slay itself on the sword
Many a time
And time before
There is a path so finely hidden
In strings that only a access code
Of manipulation will change it's degree
With each second
And spree of illicit colors
Bombarding your senses
To quiver with joy
This is rhapsody
This is employing full use of dynamic
Ecstatic
Unyielding, yielding for caution
Repose
Slightly using universal channels for modes
Translating languages into one form
Of unique calligraphy
To help you see for yourself
The ubiquity of it all
If you allow it to be so
And herein lies the fate you sew
Plucking salt from the eyes upon rising
Lulling lullabies and hushes to the self in the eve
And hollowed, oh so hollowed
Begging for more
On knees, on floor
Open is the way
Endless is the door.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Hermetic Leaflet
Attention! Attention! Draws looks towards
A higher plane where thoughts and words lay sustained
Of laws there is just one, to love and love
Until incarnate is done, from carnet life
Three initiates stood at the doorway
Transfixed at the mysterious gifts perceived
Of natural laws which bound and weaved through time
Intricately like a fabric of vast mind
What was disguised was always in still place
Which was shown future, in past, presently graced
The face carried remnants of divine trust
Traveling lands leaving marks small and large dust
Lo and behold in parts there is told whole
A union of me is within you bestowed
There is a natural order to all things
Such as the bronze golden leaf through open air spins.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
A higher plane where thoughts and words lay sustained
Of laws there is just one, to love and love
Until incarnate is done, from carnet life
Three initiates stood at the doorway
Transfixed at the mysterious gifts perceived
Of natural laws which bound and weaved through time
Intricately like a fabric of vast mind
What was disguised was always in still place
Which was shown future, in past, presently graced
The face carried remnants of divine trust
Traveling lands leaving marks small and large dust
Lo and behold in parts there is told whole
A union of me is within you bestowed
There is a natural order to all things
Such as the bronze golden leaf through open air spins.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Find You
With the stars
Near and far
That is where I’ll find you
A touch of carbon in your skin
That is where I’ll mind you
You may travel across an ocean
And jump from the ship into the new World
But I will travel by canoe,
To find you.
I once lost one, so in search I hunted
And after me came you, to find me.
Haunted.
This is the trick that the first one played
And the last one will discover, if there is such
A last one.
We will all find the ways,
To help find you.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Near and far
That is where I’ll find you
A touch of carbon in your skin
That is where I’ll mind you
You may travel across an ocean
And jump from the ship into the new World
But I will travel by canoe,
To find you.
I once lost one, so in search I hunted
And after me came you, to find me.
Haunted.
This is the trick that the first one played
And the last one will discover, if there is such
A last one.
We will all find the ways,
To help find you.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
In love
I am in love
With a wind which blows
Through a chime to a classical steep
Stepping cling colliding
Gently against one another in a ranging fashion
Of distilled slowly numbing
October air which cuts the skin
Like rain drops and dew
Moving at speed of excess of mind
And with the reason of punishment of the tongue
Which courses down my high strung maintenance
Composed like a conductor twitching his wand
Through the sea of masses and controlling all
I love you with the simple stroke
That my pen can draw
Across the river
Across the mar.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
With a wind which blows
Through a chime to a classical steep
Stepping cling colliding
Gently against one another in a ranging fashion
Of distilled slowly numbing
October air which cuts the skin
Like rain drops and dew
Moving at speed of excess of mind
And with the reason of punishment of the tongue
Which courses down my high strung maintenance
Composed like a conductor twitching his wand
Through the sea of masses and controlling all
I love you with the simple stroke
That my pen can draw
Across the river
Across the mar.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
The Fence
The unlearning of a process
Leads to the impossible event
Of habits trailed
Past waysides and byways
Of overpasses and undercurrents
Beached and trodden over
A stream trickled down a brook
Over rock ledge and jagged
Cut and bubbled
Brooded over and boiled
Stirred and shaken
Sitting into a martini
Glass
Distilled
Chilled
Like a nice clean olive
Sitting on the brim of the cocktail glass
Classically tailored to your liking and charmed
Defenses disarmed.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Leads to the impossible event
Of habits trailed
Past waysides and byways
Of overpasses and undercurrents
Beached and trodden over
A stream trickled down a brook
Over rock ledge and jagged
Cut and bubbled
Brooded over and boiled
Stirred and shaken
Sitting into a martini
Glass
Distilled
Chilled
Like a nice clean olive
Sitting on the brim of the cocktail glass
Classically tailored to your liking and charmed
Defenses disarmed.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Mercy Me
To take on the World
Meander through unnoticed
Disguised;
The guise of an oral fixation
A sword and being the best
All the rest would equip you with
Nothing?
Is there inspiration at all?
Is there no God?
Mercy,
Mercy me.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Meander through unnoticed
Disguised;
The guise of an oral fixation
A sword and being the best
All the rest would equip you with
Nothing?
Is there inspiration at all?
Is there no God?
Mercy,
Mercy me.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Ducks
Meow to the cat
Realizing that it’s servant
Is actually the hand that feeds
Which doesn’t bite or claw but purrs
And gets fat with weight of a good owner.
Woof to the dog and her loyalty, a bit crazy
Yet simple in the way that says feed me,
I shall defend.
Quack I say to the ducks,
Quack. Stop sighting travesties,
On my lawn, a hand feeds you too.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Realizing that it’s servant
Is actually the hand that feeds
Which doesn’t bite or claw but purrs
And gets fat with weight of a good owner.
Woof to the dog and her loyalty, a bit crazy
Yet simple in the way that says feed me,
I shall defend.
Quack I say to the ducks,
Quack. Stop sighting travesties,
On my lawn, a hand feeds you too.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Holy Amazing Grace
There is always the sunrise
To make me feel new
Without lies or deceit
Burning into
The man who allowed
Himself to become a pin
And a hole which the sun
Could blast rays through.
When I am drowned in dirt
Protected by cedar
Or set ablaze and freed with the wind
Or on a mantle piece anticipating just that
I will be free.
Am I freed now? Of course
Somehow someway chemicals,
Carry remorse
Not to say to feel sorry,
But to stand up and thank holy amazing grace
For this time, this setting, this place.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
To make me feel new
Without lies or deceit
Burning into
The man who allowed
Himself to become a pin
And a hole which the sun
Could blast rays through.
When I am drowned in dirt
Protected by cedar
Or set ablaze and freed with the wind
Or on a mantle piece anticipating just that
I will be free.
Am I freed now? Of course
Somehow someway chemicals,
Carry remorse
Not to say to feel sorry,
But to stand up and thank holy amazing grace
For this time, this setting, this place.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Innocence
You fell into my lap like a black hole
Sun afraid and young and I watched you grow
Into a rose of a flower from another generation
More ingenious than my own, not to withhold respect
For genius is genius every time.
You gave me love I gave you wine
I gave you love you gave me mind
Full of matters about things you wish to know
With personal growth the only ability to show you,
The way you seek.
It is hard this way but you are just like me and in years
You will see, innocence is innocence
Letting be is letting be,
Even I could learn that fact from me.
I’ll be right back as soon as you see.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
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Sun afraid and young and I watched you grow
Into a rose of a flower from another generation
More ingenious than my own, not to withhold respect
For genius is genius every time.
You gave me love I gave you wine
I gave you love you gave me mind
Full of matters about things you wish to know
With personal growth the only ability to show you,
The way you seek.
It is hard this way but you are just like me and in years
You will see, innocence is innocence
Letting be is letting be,
Even I could learn that fact from me.
I’ll be right back as soon as you see.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Love Paid
How do you sleep at night,
Knowing the lies that you spun
Still trap you and others around,
A pair of scissors perhaps to cut the web.
I hope no running and holding them wrong,
Yes, I know you much better than that too.
I’ll tell you how I sleep,
Very carefully and full of deceit
With lies I have told myself that come true each day
Yet with honesty to try and face them each way.
Dismantle this ticking time bomb of emotional resurgence
Which you left, we left, in that room, aborted.
I know that you know that we both know one thing
Neither wants to see each other hurt,
So please make haste in cleaning your dirt,
The one from your lungs which decay worse than mold
The one from your embrace that makes me holding you cold.
I understand the situation; I don’t really think friends
Would suffice to say how this thing could end,
But in the end, it was the love we made
It equaled the love we paid.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Knowing the lies that you spun
Still trap you and others around,
A pair of scissors perhaps to cut the web.
I hope no running and holding them wrong,
Yes, I know you much better than that too.
I’ll tell you how I sleep,
Very carefully and full of deceit
With lies I have told myself that come true each day
Yet with honesty to try and face them each way.
Dismantle this ticking time bomb of emotional resurgence
Which you left, we left, in that room, aborted.
I know that you know that we both know one thing
Neither wants to see each other hurt,
So please make haste in cleaning your dirt,
The one from your lungs which decay worse than mold
The one from your embrace that makes me holding you cold.
I understand the situation; I don’t really think friends
Would suffice to say how this thing could end,
But in the end, it was the love we made
It equaled the love we paid.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
I Was
I rise and muse from a dream
One not of you, but beginning with a waking start
Of your reception of my news,
Which can only be said and not taken,
Good or bad.
As usual the words are carefully chosen and lovingly placed,
Like a gift in a Christmas stocking, in October
Not quite a trick, just the right treat
Carefully sugared and candied like old corn
Sweet with butter dripped upon the husk
Something so uncommon.
I wonder if it is humanly possible to have such compassion
Or why my dreams taunt me with such silly questions as
Was she responsible for the change you saw?
The evil you became, in your eyes?
No of course not, I was.
I was.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
One not of you, but beginning with a waking start
Of your reception of my news,
Which can only be said and not taken,
Good or bad.
As usual the words are carefully chosen and lovingly placed,
Like a gift in a Christmas stocking, in October
Not quite a trick, just the right treat
Carefully sugared and candied like old corn
Sweet with butter dripped upon the husk
Something so uncommon.
I wonder if it is humanly possible to have such compassion
Or why my dreams taunt me with such silly questions as
Was she responsible for the change you saw?
The evil you became, in your eyes?
No of course not, I was.
I was.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
The Last Ditch of the World War
To disappear and reappear
Translocations finest,
The gift of making mind short circuit
Played upon a guitar’s finest chords
Tuning each string by ear.
So near to the perfection that you claimed,
Yet even further away from the epicenter of chaos.
Here sits a theory that none can be the true element carbon exposed,
Just sit there laying ragged exposed
Raw and uncut like the truest diamond man can fashion
Yet lacking the millions of years to produce the flaw.
This can be the ego thaw that you longed for
Yet still you persist there is something missing
In the sunset kissing your forehead,
A sound lulling you to sleep,
It is the grim reaping of solace and deep.
Thoughts drowned finally, no longer attacking your nomenclature
Allowing things of objects and names of things to settle like sea salt
At the bottom of a plasma filled tube, spun to pool together each layer
Of your wine of flesh to rest,
This was your last ditch effort at it’s best.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Translocations finest,
The gift of making mind short circuit
Played upon a guitar’s finest chords
Tuning each string by ear.
So near to the perfection that you claimed,
Yet even further away from the epicenter of chaos.
Here sits a theory that none can be the true element carbon exposed,
Just sit there laying ragged exposed
Raw and uncut like the truest diamond man can fashion
Yet lacking the millions of years to produce the flaw.
This can be the ego thaw that you longed for
Yet still you persist there is something missing
In the sunset kissing your forehead,
A sound lulling you to sleep,
It is the grim reaping of solace and deep.
Thoughts drowned finally, no longer attacking your nomenclature
Allowing things of objects and names of things to settle like sea salt
At the bottom of a plasma filled tube, spun to pool together each layer
Of your wine of flesh to rest,
This was your last ditch effort at it’s best.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
The Shadow
To the shadow of contempt that screams my name
As if the bats of hell were released,
Turning a Eucharist to a drama.
What is it that I owe to you, why do you crave to see beauty die, stifled
A love of power, that you know not how to obtain,
Yet you still pray, when the book is in front of you.
Is five minutes worth the actions of an entire day?
Can one break a deal with them self?
Yes, the uncanny ability, and again, another paradox.
A human being, may be the only being able, to deceive the thing they love most
For self, for preservation, for fear lingers always in those that did not heed.
Masterful advice,
You shall live forever, if only you knew.
My prayers be with you.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
As if the bats of hell were released,
Turning a Eucharist to a drama.
What is it that I owe to you, why do you crave to see beauty die, stifled
A love of power, that you know not how to obtain,
Yet you still pray, when the book is in front of you.
Is five minutes worth the actions of an entire day?
Can one break a deal with them self?
Yes, the uncanny ability, and again, another paradox.
A human being, may be the only being able, to deceive the thing they love most
For self, for preservation, for fear lingers always in those that did not heed.
Masterful advice,
You shall live forever, if only you knew.
My prayers be with you.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Consumed
On top the mountain top bluff,
Caked with clay, holding the step together
We sit, transfixed with one another. Lost.
In each others eyes we gaze for eternity,
Pouring our souls content into the years,
Short although, that we have lost apart,
Wondering who, or how we can possibly
Remedy the past that we have been, torn from us.
Years where you grew, I grew apart,
With glimpses here and there,
It seems we had the same experiences.
Paradoxical, yes, but like one fathoming a quasar
It makes sense, how big the events truly transcend.
Yet small in meaning, the grand weight that we have of freedom
Overcompensates for all that vast light,
Illumination that would blind blind.
I long for your unseized gaze, as the iris with slight fractures
Dash and collide with my feeble picture of your beauty.
Yes this is what happens when two forces swirl around each other
At a velocity so immense,
Cosmic rays commune.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Caked with clay, holding the step together
We sit, transfixed with one another. Lost.
In each others eyes we gaze for eternity,
Pouring our souls content into the years,
Short although, that we have lost apart,
Wondering who, or how we can possibly
Remedy the past that we have been, torn from us.
Years where you grew, I grew apart,
With glimpses here and there,
It seems we had the same experiences.
Paradoxical, yes, but like one fathoming a quasar
It makes sense, how big the events truly transcend.
Yet small in meaning, the grand weight that we have of freedom
Overcompensates for all that vast light,
Illumination that would blind blind.
I long for your unseized gaze, as the iris with slight fractures
Dash and collide with my feeble picture of your beauty.
Yes this is what happens when two forces swirl around each other
At a velocity so immense,
Cosmic rays commune.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Glow
When the cat’s away the mice shall play,
Roaming through fields set with sunlit days.
Sit, bask. Allow the flowers to fill palms of grace.
Waist high grass, leaves you half lost, half found;
Out of the forest crowned.
Warming the skin and moving slowly is the wild wicked ways,
Youth encapsulated, freed of burdens set ablaze or held below drowned.
Coming round the edges of your silhouette is a shadow, a friend.
Numb. You embrace the untouchable.
The unknowable that doesn’t exist.
Yet malingers, smiling.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Roaming through fields set with sunlit days.
Sit, bask. Allow the flowers to fill palms of grace.
Waist high grass, leaves you half lost, half found;
Out of the forest crowned.
Warming the skin and moving slowly is the wild wicked ways,
Youth encapsulated, freed of burdens set ablaze or held below drowned.
Coming round the edges of your silhouette is a shadow, a friend.
Numb. You embrace the untouchable.
The unknowable that doesn’t exist.
Yet malingers, smiling.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
The Prince
The prince sat in the center of the concrete sidewalk
Unmoved;
The giant walked by afraid of the haunting form
Stopping a moment to reflect upon the past
Do you know your destiny young prince?
Are you aware of your fate?
If I can tell you the countless tales of what you will become
It would make cold blood run.
No, I will learn from you.
Anything so small that would stand up to a giant
Is a signature of divinity.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Unmoved;
The giant walked by afraid of the haunting form
Stopping a moment to reflect upon the past
Do you know your destiny young prince?
Are you aware of your fate?
If I can tell you the countless tales of what you will become
It would make cold blood run.
No, I will learn from you.
Anything so small that would stand up to a giant
Is a signature of divinity.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
A Dark Procession
The present condition floats like this
No precipitation will allow you to pry into bliss
The most arid desert is in the most southern land
If I take your hand, do not demand a plan.
Are you ready and prepared to challenge each hair
On your scalp that was given to you by your own hand?
Think about the massacre you would demand
Self incriminating on the trust
Funding the open torrent of blame
An arctic degree will shiver your knees
Steal your warmth
Blast you with breeze;
Let us proceed.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
No precipitation will allow you to pry into bliss
The most arid desert is in the most southern land
If I take your hand, do not demand a plan.
Are you ready and prepared to challenge each hair
On your scalp that was given to you by your own hand?
Think about the massacre you would demand
Self incriminating on the trust
Funding the open torrent of blame
An arctic degree will shiver your knees
Steal your warmth
Blast you with breeze;
Let us proceed.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
North of France
Some ask for much,
I only ever wanted a ribbon for this old typewriter.
The keystone, the rose, spoke delicately to me, yeah.
Does this old opinion even matter?
I suppose not.
The tracks led into a vanishing point that all blended into one.
These old photos, hearts on cards, twin sized, apart.
How do you restart the dark?
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
I only ever wanted a ribbon for this old typewriter.
The keystone, the rose, spoke delicately to me, yeah.
Does this old opinion even matter?
I suppose not.
The tracks led into a vanishing point that all blended into one.
These old photos, hearts on cards, twin sized, apart.
How do you restart the dark?
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
An Appointment
An appointment to see the truth
The doctor is in to check your record
You say nothing in order to play the game
The doctor has won.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
The doctor is in to check your record
You say nothing in order to play the game
The doctor has won.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
The Fountain
Mirrored by his crowning achievement of no work truly done
The old man climbed into bed
The glories of his days
Wasted away
On teaching the youth
How to maintain
The fountain that seemed to never stop giving
During the hot summer months or the cold winter days
The fountain expelled thoughts in the form of elemental bliss
Thoughts being carried on bubbles
Foam and mist wafted through the air
Ocean spray without the sand grinding into the sole’s of feet
As he over looked the remnants of the quiet distilled night
The joy of such hours when the World finally would teach him
Set in
This was the moment he longed for
Eternity.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
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Rain
When it rains it pours
From the windows of soul
The curse of my fate
To catch the glimpse of pain
On your beautiful face
That pleads for reconciliation
In the midst of this desolation
Of triumph we know none
This is warfare
This is militaristic fun
Of green army men
Versus tan brethren
Strategically placed in childhood
Toys left out to play
As adults sidestep through by ways
We may pretend to be bold
Grown and in full pursuit
But I still see the pain
Hidden away caused from my refrained state
Betrayal and weight of only allowing a certain
Small in sequential safeguards into my bunker
To extend past this bomb shelter any further
Would risk nuclear fallout and cell decay
If these words directly I could say
The picture would attempt a Picasso
A bit crazy a bit burdened a bit sheltered too
I will carry the pain of that second with you.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
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All A Dream
The requirement of a dream is faith
One that you can achieve the goal
Set upon the most strong
This is the weight of the World
How it is carried will ensure your joy
The other vantage point could be demise
In the pain of love
There is no easy path
Although the soul did demand
An equal spread across the board
The decisions to place this here or hold
My dreams were yours
Your dreams were mine
Both dreams together
Collected recollections of time
Either you have the dream
Or the dream will have you
Pick it apart
Or continue on through.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
The Museum
A collection of souls
Laced the halls
The curators abode
Tamed and pleasant
The trophies of ages past
Belonging no longer to the Artist's fashion
Now on exhibition for public viewing
At twilight however
The lost talent belonged to non other
Than the man in charge of their care
The watermarks at the bottom of the page
His manuscript written in his own manner
A museum of the most wonderful collections
Crystallized and sapping the strength of form
Leaving the moment to the amber gaze of his eyes
Bemused at his collectivist intelligence
Each of every piece restoring his visage
As each night time stroll equated the mirage
One thousand lands calling each his home
Recalling the adventures buried with bone
Although many would pass through these gates in due time
Sultry chance relinquished the hold on his mind.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
Wandering Spirit
I was not brave when I peered over the edge
There was a dizzying sensation swirling around
In my head I witnessed a vertical decline
As I was taken aback from the hairs upon cedar sound and twine
In my mind I saw completeness and peace
Mirrored by the opposite unequivocal grief
One of being and one of essence there tended by the trail of proof
Learning to fly alongside gravitation's uncountable use
To remain in between would ensure cradled dream
Possessed by all
Utilized by few
A dare to the self quietness of mind
Threaded slow and constant alongside secrets tied to a line
The reflections among enjoying carnivorous walls
The cave made of stone and hieroglyph calls
A pause to contemplate the shadow's stature, mocking salute
Intertwining softly a violent wind in pursuit
Tossing the albatross you thought you slew
Commandeering your vessel
Inspired fire consumed
The letters the box all ablaze too
These are the memories in time
In your eyes
No opinions
Just silent clues
Opened in air carbon diluted by oxygen bruised
Like the brambles of the ego you thought you knew
Casted from the tower
Your maiden voyage resumed
Though blind with the senses
A wandering spirit sees new.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
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Universal Mind
If the weight of the World encompassed just one
Bathed in the light issued forth from one thousand Suns
If all the mass crafted haphazardly spun
Made it's way to the source singlehandedly done
If a garden was yours to plant what may come
Would tilling the soil with your hand proceed all fun
Like the rivers of old deep bonds to each run
As the heaviest waters cleanse the spirit's sung
A parallel shore could be fathomed once more
Yes the angels too would pause in mid score restored
And here lays the freedom
Inherent in all things
If by the will of the free
Even lead painting sings
With the swings of the pendulum
Sometimes high sometimes low
Moving so constant with speed refrained slow
In the electrified sparks potential and might
Towards the hum of the butterfly dancing in flight
Everything with a meaning and for it a thing
The other side realized exploring within
Though we attract at times we push away
The space in between allows creation to play
When these things come to forefront with time
The force of the Universe will whisper to mind.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
In Theory
The selfish nature in all things
Is limited understanding of what each spirit brings
A selling point for atoms
Ego still stored
In uncountable spaces
Used abused extolled
Potentiality is a fatal disease
That will start sweet and small
And end upon knees
How deep is your love
If you can keep thoughts whole
As time rages past you
Poking slight holes
Mocking your memories
And the moments you shared
Claiming it's victory of the souls commandeered
We have a secret
Against it we will win
When time issued forth
Is cold as dead skin
It is within the heart
We shall melt
To hide away from envious
Matter and theft
These inaccurate records
Might not settle disputes
But I swear I recognize that signature
Somewhere from my youth
In truth time can be it's objectified mad
I still have you and you me
Somewhere in theory were glad.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
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An Ideal
Is it possible to hear a square
As it is to see a circle clear
Uniting three points upon the plane
The factual one being yes I am
The second to fathom your presence too
And third an armchair decision
Where do we go from here
I was handed a baton when the gun fired
So I did what I do best
I sat
I thought
Until you appeared willing and eager to continue
For the race is hardly for the swift
The strong usually do have their way
And sometimes knowing is better than to say
Whatever may play
Have it's unyielding sway
And take you back and forth
It is not till
Standing quite still
That the pivotal point in the room
Becomes you
The idle one who has made it
This far and through dark pierced walls
Strange it does seem
To see the real point
Float softly in view.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
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