My name is Christian These are poems

[fifthdawn]

Wheel within a Wheel

A fleeting excuse for why escapes me

while i open my mouth with excuses.

a worthless effort against the beginning of 3rd

5th

7th

order harmonics

an instantaneous distortion that tells you

i reacted in fear

i spiked all sensitivities and exposed myself

but i will wait for

the echoes to return on the off chance

that your room is more forgiving,

that the warmth and clarity shines first and reaches me clearly

that the source seeks its point

without regard

[fifthdawn]

Atlas Sound

i sent dimensions ahead of my stay

for the cage

i knew i would need

and still it feels like a vise

pressure lines left along my jaw

from a dull pressure,

the echoic endlessness of unknowing

that dulls against its origin

a permanent standing wave

washing against itself

beating me into a finer sand

[fifthdawn]

eerie tones

measuring the time, output, or stories feels like a random selection of intervals do bottles indicate any more importance than days/hours?

the number of times i check in? if i measure the days, i need to catch the sun before it sets and the deeper the winter - the more impossible that task seems i will count the time that passes by in whatever pieces i can keep track of

[fifthdawn]

perpetual time

ink dropped into my glass spirals, spreads in the same way the sun disappears behind the horizon and yet i won’t forget the warmth and shape somehow the lingering touch of day stays with me i will forget this day like i have forgotten so many days i have forgotten the pieces of so many fleeting moments it’s become harder to believe how much time has passed now whenever i lay down to wait for the sun to return my worry becomes and overflowing cup a chilling fear of never seeing the sun soaks me to my bones

[fifthdawn]

a single tower

somewhere, a name attached to a fading image of the person who knew me most a door i can’t follow through , in front of me every night how can a face disappear and float through memories       i know i can’t escape the inevitable

[fifthdawn]

eyes within eyes

there is a commitment beyond commitment  an ability to burn memories beyond recovery to so convincingly kill someone from your memory that the anniversary of their passing becomes as shocking as the occasional reminder of their continued existence

[fifthdawn]

dual pathway

what about all the melodies, i won’t find? when i fiddle with words             - notes                     - ink what about the patterns     i won’t be able to conjure? i want so badly to believe      they will only              originate within me and yet    the hope that they’re eventualities       let’s me keep prodding

[fifthdawn]

wave

what fits into the space

of a book that will never be returned?

is there a chance it finds its way home?

there is dust in a persistent reminder,

easily cleaned

but left,

a permanent home

for a missing piece

[fifthdawn]

Middle

the most important lesson i ever arrived at on my own -  is that every other person lives a life that i can never truly know that the only point of view i will ever have is my own it makes me want to hold on for longer than i know i can it makes me weep when i think of you

[fifthdawn]

chase

i have often heard “ three chords and the truth” but can’t overcome the fear that i’ll never find  the chords

[fifthdawn]

Avalanche Run

taking hammers to clocks getting on my knees and trying to will time to stop won’t give me what i want time refuses to slow down, to give me a chance to pause and reflect now that i finally want to commit things to memory feeling as though i am constantly trying to catch my breath now that i want to keep up i won’t look back but i want the chance to look around who am i asking to help me maintain grip on these experiences while they’re ripped away from me

[fifthdawn]

witchcraft

you are like the impossible rhythm a pattern scorched into my mind    that feels almost attainable    a brilliance so refined  that if i were able to better myself to match     i would finally live in the single moment awareness of being only present within the     impossible speed and dexterity     a constantly moving pattern of inspiration     kept within my palms    

[fifthdawn]

abet

when i’m putting these words on paper the voice reading back to me isn’t mine this paper is a reflective surface giving back everything i try to expel a perfect conversation

[fifthdawn]

2,000 km

is there a chance that i could see all possible pathways of my present// of my future?

a true chance where i finally see you beyond these visions that somehow i could exist in this spot and feel you within me occupying the same space without moving our bond is faint, always with me the melange of us gives me enough of you to hope for more

[fifthdawn]

trickle

how lovely it is

to even be allowed to imagine your lilting whistle drifting to me on a breeze that blankets both of us

a love that gives me unlimited strength truly starts with your eyes pouring over me

[fifthdawn]

sweet salt

i am feeling along the cavern walls for reliefs that tell me where i can leave my messages for you our secret tongue, a secret set of verses meant only for each other’s eyes . where can i say these sweet blossoms and know that they will adorn your path?

[fifthdawn]

inevitable pressure

every decision means giving up on countless possibilities and when those choices should fade away into the distance i always feel as though i’m walking along side them