The Screen that Hums

Tags

Celebrity, Communication, creative, isolation, Life, poems, poetry, Relationships, Television, The Screen that Hums, TV, verse, writing

With the TV on
And no-one home
Does it matter that
We’re all alone
With the dramas and
The lives of those
We’d wish to be or
Are glad we aren’t
To dip in and out
Of colours loud
Where death rings tears
And heroes bleed
But we’ll see them all
Again next time
In costumes grand
Or just like those
That reflect our lot
In kitchens where
Machines that feed us
Ping lap-top sustenance
Remind us of the
Lives that we could lead
Behind the screen
That hums and moves
In steps more constant
Than our own or those
That move our hearts to bleed
Or cry out in our heads
For the credits to roll
Once more.

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

Passing Cars

Tags

creative, faith, Friends, Life, lyrics, Passing Cars, poems, poetry, Relationships, verse, writing

All this will end

And you’ll forget me,

Not what I’d hoped

But how it will be,

All this will go

Like clouds in Summer

What once was real

Now just a number.

 

Spent half our lives

In passing cars

Our faces pressed

Against the glass

Down long dark roads

In search of light

 

Parade ourselves

In colours bold

Or shades of grey

The mirror’s call

A brief sojourn

Along the way

 

All this will end

And you’ll forget me,

Not what I’d hoped

But how it will be,

All this will go

Like clouds in Summer

What once was real

Now just a number.

 

Aim for the crash

That shakes us free

A roadside fall

Into the arms

Of someone else

We pray will see

The road like us

 

And some we’ll leave

Along the way

And some will burn

Like dying stars

And some we’ll wish

Had stayed awhile

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

 

Raw

Tags

creative, Life, Love, Open, poems, poetry, Raw, Relationships, verse, writing

Never really wanted much

From the world,

Or anything from you

But your love,

Never tried to take those things

That I saw,

Or anything that I

Didn’t need.

A smile was all I wanted

To ever see,

A smile on every face

From the heart,

Some may never notice me

As I pass by,

But I was here behind

The mirror glass.

Never really wanted much

To belong,

Perhaps never truly meant

For this world,

But I was here awhile and

You’ll forget,

And the writing on the wall

Will always fade.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020

 

Viaticum 8 – The Last Visit

Tags

Betrayal, creative, faith, future, Life, poems, poetry, politics, Relationships, Series, The last visit, Truth, verse, Viaticum, Vision, writing

And all of this is still to come,

You say with sharp and twisted tongue,

And set out scenes before the sky,

To bring salt water to dead eyes.

 

This hate, these lies, a swarming plague,

Reach out eternal in my sway,

Vitriolic fields of fire,

Single souls who walk the wire.

 

Reveal to me hopeless despair,

From those who chose too much to care,

And those who lay down in my name,

Wilful suffering for my shame.

 

And now you split the clouds with war,

Angelic host who keep the score,

And who will rise to heaven above,

And who will take the sacred cloth?

 

Then from another’s point of view,

You lift this faith with arms askew,

To shackle souls whose will will sink,

As from the sacred cup they drink.

 

Perception blurred, they walk again,

To find anomalies in men,

And raise the banner of belief,

A cut too deep to gain relief.

 

I search my voice and try to cry,

The road you show, it is not mine,

But what remains is your soft smile,

I cannot change this life must die.

 

And as you fade your arms are lost,

I cannot calculate this cost,

But you misunderstood my time,

Your name will bleed in time with mine.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2019

 

 

Something Better

Tags

creative, disappointment, hope, Life, Love, lyrics, poems, poetry, Regret, Relationships, Something better, verse, writing

She hoped for something better,

She hoped for something more,

More than just a letter,

And petals on the floor.

 

Killed hours behind the window,

Lost days before they came,

Gave away her heart’s glow,

For moments all the same.

 

She thought he’d set her free,

And dream the dreams she did,

She pours a cup of tea,

But never lifts the lid.

 

She waits upon the sofa,

And lays awake at night,

For sleep to take her far,

So far away from sight.

 

But real love lives in moments,

The ones you give away,

And no-one knows the lengths she goes

To make it through the day.

Real love lives in other’s hearts,

Behind the melting eye,

And no-one knows the lengths she goes,

To lock away each sigh.

 

She hoped for something better,

She hoped for something more,

More than just a letter,

And petals on the floor.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2019

 

Never Quite This Warm

Tags

creative, Depression, Life, Never quite this warm, nostalgia, poems, poetry, verse, winter, writing

Wanted to feel seasons

Count colours in the sky,

The winters of the past

Were never quite this warm.

Wanted you to hold me

Feel snow upon our lips,

Beneath an icy moon

Kept warm against the cold.

Wanted to taste the night

Fresh kisses on my tongue,

Clean sun against our backs

As hand in hand we were.

Long days without an end

Wasted time never lost,

Each moment perfect, new

Eyes coloured in the sky.

Curled safe within the sheets

With arms and legs entwined,

You never looked so good

As naked in the dark.

And walking through our dreams

With feet that never ran,

The soundtrack of our days

Played sweetly in our heads.

Wanted to feel seasons

Count colours in the sky,

The winters of the past

Were never quite this warm.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2019

 

Shells

Tags

Change, creative, faith, history, Humanity, Life, poems, poetry, Revelation, Shells, thoughts, time, Truth, verse, World, writing

She sells shells from off the beach

Lifts the pennies from their eyes

And then fades away,

Slowly drifting through the crowd

Clothes that cannot mark her time

Whispers in their ears.

 

Hand scratch scars upon her face

Trace the days she never had

Curled upon the ground,

Rock-pool tears that kiss the shore

As the sea calls out her name

Disappears once more.

 

And for awhile we see

All as it’s meant to be

Until we turn away

Back to the world we made

And all the things we see

How we want it to be

A world we’d never change

Or seek to rearrange

 

Angry tides rise up again

Sweep away all that she knew

Kisses on the sand,

Faces lost amongst the clouds

Trapped forever in her box

Buried out at sea.

 

She sells shells from off the beach

Lifts the pennies from their eyes

And then fades away,

Slowly drifting through the crowd

Clothes that cannot mark her time

Whispers in their ears.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2019

 

Over Again

Tags

creative, Life, Love, Over again, poems, poetry, Regret, verse, writing

Don’t wait until

The door has closed

Until the curtain’s drawn,

Don’t wait until

The dreams you had

Are flowers on the lawn.

Don’t close your eyes

And trust in fate

To open up the day,

Or wish upon

A star that won’t

Illuminate the way.

Don’t count the days

And with them all

The chances you have lost,

Or sit so still

In corners dark

And watch spring turn to frost.

Don’t hesitate

To speak the words

To those you hold so dear,

Just tell them now

And everyday

And wipe away the fear.

Take those you love

Into your world

And tell them they belong,

Love them now with

All you are then

Over and over again.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2019

 

Turned Away

Tags

age, creative, dreams, faith, Life, loss, Love, nostalgia, poems, poetry, Relationships, thoughts, Truth, Turned away, verse, writing

She sits and waits the tv glows

Stares pictures on the wall,

She wonders if they’ll ever know

The days she turned away.

He watches faces on the screen

As nameless they pass by,

He sees her still in youthful dream

But would not change a thing.

She dreams of ships with billowed sail

Her foot upon their bow,

And moons that wax and moons that pail

Horizons silent now.

He thinks of doors that always closed

And wished them all away,

Each detail drawn each gateway posed

He’d climb them all again.

She pictures faces that she knew

And counts them over stiles,

How many seen how known so few

She wonders how they fell.

He holds himself within his shell

The bottle comes again,

The stories that he’ll never tell

Die slowly deep inside.

She sits and waits the tv glows

Stares pictures on the wall,

She wonders if they’ll ever know

The days she turned away.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2019

 

Companion

Tags

Companion, creative, faith, Life, poems, poetry, Truth, verse, writing

I am the one who never lied,

The true companion at your side,

The words you said the words you lost,

I took them all and paid the cost.

I heard your voice and saw your face,

I touched your heart and found its pace,

The monsters came, some went some stayed,

Some welcomed in and others slayed.

Behind your eyes I am the ghost,

The one who’ll always love you most,

The line cut in your silken palm,

The storm’s cool eye the winter’s calm.

I am the cord you’ll never break,

The dream that’s lost when you will wake,

The faces and the names you knew,

A heavy price to prove you grew.

How easily we all forget,

The things we thought in stone were set,

The numbers on the coloured page,

That count our steps from cage to cage.

The ones who from our sight are lost,

A memory now turned and tossed,

We see them all just one last time,

Relentlessly we climb and climb.

Until we balance on the ledge,

A no-man’s land a broken wedge,

And caught between the past and dreams,

We see the view of older scenes.

And through it all I was so true,

A Grecian mask made just for you,

A thousand smiles a thousand tears,

To wipe away the fallen years.

I was the one who never lied,

The true companion at your side,

And this is real if you could see,

The leaves that fall to you from me.

 

© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2019