Capitalism: A Poem

It grows like barnacles on the sides of wood ships
Gnawing and sucking with its cold, flabby lips
It is a rust that corrodes a metal once sleek
A bacteria that blackens a once-youthful cheek

It's a clanking machine that coughs and vomits oil
An unearthly worm that resides in the soil
In the daylight it gleams and flaunts its parts
But in the darkness it wheezes and feeds on men's hearts

It grows larger and larger like some mutant swine
Grunting and licking the meat from men's spines
It wraps its tentacles around the earth
Drinking its life with grotesque mirth

From death and despair this monster was built
Under its shadow, the world will deaden and wilt
Yet we cling onto it like infants, disgustingly reliant
On this foul, vampiric creature--this bloodthirsty giant

Merry Christmas, Kittens

I love Christmas Break. I really do.

You know, some high school students get out of school for the holidays and just sort of slump over like those fainting goats. Others take expensive trips and go skiing and wha wha wha wha. But I have a simple break, while at the same time a very productive one.

I wake up at 6 every morning and bike 15 miles to the nearest gym. I eat healthy, get exercise, write loads of poetry, and I speed read. Just in the past week I've already read Dante's Inferno, Milton's Paradise Lost, and a number of Shakespearean plays. I organize my room, then the rest of the house, and I garden. I feed the poor, pick up trash, and my smile ends wars. There's just no stopping me when I'm in my good, Christmas Break mood.

Then when school starts again I turn into a vegetable

But I'm enjoying myself. Like I said, we have a pretty simple Christmas. Right now I'm celebrating by eating a lot of mini-pretzels and listening to She&Him's fantastic Christmas album. Zooey Deschanel's rendition of "Silver Bells" is so pure it makes me blush.

I'm going to conclude this post with something that I'm sure will surprise none of you: a picture of a kitten in a Santa Claus hat.



Frohe Weihnachten!

-Christopher

My Superhero Alter-Ego

Okay, Lex, here it is: THE HEAD. Yep, that's his name. Just...The Head.



His body may seem small, and it is, but his head is large. And so is his heart. But also, his head is. And, in case you can't read, it possesses magical powers of sorcery.

So can I join the league now?

-Christopher

A Poem in Blank Verse and Iambic Tetrameter (In Case You Were Wondering)

Black holes form like stars in the air
The world spotted with unsightly
Unholy leprous blemishes
Drains away like cold bathwater
Heaven crashes through the glass clouds
And falls into oblivion

Monks chant whispered praises of God
The wealthy sink their marble teeth
Into the flesh of the lesser
Poets howl at the silent moon
Teachers teach and the singers sing
But at night all are wounded beasts

Raped by the deafening echoes
That deflect off the atmosphere
We wounded animals quiver
Whining against the icy ground
Begging—screaming for our mothers
Like orphans who dream of their past

The end is near—fresh on our breaths
We cling onto a sinking ship
Hurtling towards the cursed black sea
That flows around our island home
Monstrous eternity looms
Over we maggots of dust

One cannot hold onto moments
They dart away like beams of light
And life, sweet life, is fragile as
The tiny spine of a dead leaf
Fleeting, like the fall of rain drops
Destined to hit the rigid ground

So as our existence runs thin
We are dying sailors searching
With red eyes for some sign of land
Searching oh searching for some land
Searching, God help us, for some land
Searching, dear God, searching for land

Conclusions I Can Draw from Sad Movies and Old People

Today I watched Water for Elephants. I cried at the end.

I cry at some sad movies, but not all of them.

Why did I cry at this movie, for instance, rather than at Toy Story 3, which I expected myself to cry at, or during Seven Pounds, the saddest movie of all time?

I concluded that I cried because one of the elements in the movie was old people. Old people at the ends of sad movies always make me cry.

Why is that?

I think that, to me, it's because I have trouble coming to terms with the fact that one day I will be old.

Why does that bother me? Why does the thought of being old bother me?

I think that it's because being old means being closer to death, and above all I am having trouble coming to terms with the fact that I one day will die.

I'm scared of death. Not dying. Death.

Then again, I'm not sure which scares me more. The thought of disappearing into nonexistence to never emerge again. Or the thought of living forever. Eternity. What a terrible, terrible word.

It never ends. Although I guess that's the point.

Then again, maybe I just cried because this song was at the end:

I'm Coming Home

-Christopher