Christopher Poindexter Quotes

she is all things men want to love, but could never handle.

Tears are the silent passion for suffering

through all the
weariness
and depression
and troubled sighs
at the end of the
wailing day
it was enough
to remove my clothing
crawl into bed
and kiss her
in places the
sun never
touches."
-Christopher Poindexter

Not only did
I love her,
but I could tell
the universe loved
her, too.
More than others.
She was different.
After all; I would
be a fool not to
notice the way the
sunshine played with
her hair.

nestle up with me now and let us
fall in love with the feeling
of our worries spilling into the sheets.
nestle up with me now,
let us give birth to seeds of whispering moans
and let those coil with our bones
as we tumble in love with the blooming echo.
nestle up with me now,
let us grow old and die delicate in each other's arms
for my god what an exquisite honor it would be
to erode from this crumbling earth
all the while being washed in your
lover's grains,

nestle up with me.

the gate around
heaven was
crowded when we
arrived together.
you looked at me
and giggled
and with whiskey on
your rose breath
you led me to some
place higher.

i always knew you were
beyond them.
i just wasn't sure
how far.

Some people fall in love
with the idea of things
and others fall in love
with the actual things.
Falling in love with an
idea is but an illusion.
That is how I know
she is the one.
I feel her in my
bones and not
just in my head.

it was you and i that night
by the sea,
two bottles of wine and
a bowl deep,
we kissed and made love
as the moon and waves
talked business.

She stared at the stars like they were pillow for her mind and in their light she could rest her heavy head.

We are the scientists, trying to make sense of the stars inside us.

the details of anything you love are
always what is most thrilling, most poignant,
most important.
i loved her as she rose from bed and fell back
against it again, and all she did in-between.
when you love someone you accept them,
you become them in a way, and all they
do forms into you. their mannerisms turn
into truth- the way she holds her favorite coffee mug,
the way she laughs, the way she smells, the way her lips
curl after certain words. all of the simple things
suddenly become gigantic things and light up the world
before you like a flame thrown into the clouds.
what a breathtaking display. the way
the earth begins to dissolve in your periphery
and a human being replaces it.

no matter what they tell you-
a person is a universe when truly
loved and anything less is not
love at all.

if you are not crazy,
i mean absolutely crazy
about what you love,
then i beg you, either find
a way to be insanely crazy
about it or throw it
away.

you were not born
with half an ass
human therefore you
have no right to
half-ass the intensity
in which you
love.

We know so perfectly how to give birth to the monsters inside us, but for reasons I will never figure out, we have not the slightest clue of what to do with all the love.

tears are a silent passion for suffering-
i found ma self baffeld by hers-
the way they trickled in the presence if moonlight,
driven by the humans didnt undrstand her...

Sometimes I sit alone under the stars and think of the galaxies inside my heart and truly wonder if anyone will ever want to make sense of all that I am

Your darkness is a symphony

Played in explosions of silence to a crowd that has fallen in love with noise

If they refuse to applaud you
It isn't because your music isn't beautiful
It is because they have no idea how to love what they don't understand
And that, my darling, is the most horrific flaw in this mixed up world

My hunger for writing will die when I have bled for the humans that never found the strength to find the words themselves

It is the feeling of never knowing what we want that truly drives us all mad.... Holding things because we think in a moment we love them only to uncurl our fingers later and softly give them back to the earth.

I admit,
I was afraid
to love.
Not just love,
but to love her.
For she was a stunning
mystery. She carried things
deep inside her that no one
has yet to understand,
and I,
I was afraid to fail,
like the others. She was the ocean
and i was just a boy
who loved the waves
but was completely
terrified to
swim.

The human spirit is poetry enough and I understand that, but I write to make it transparent to a world in love with bright screens and rising technology.

The thing about chaos, is that while it disturbs us, it too forces our hearts to roar in a way we secretly find magnificent

she was the kind of woman
who only gave herself away in small doses,
leaving men wandering like little children
at all that she was.
she tortured them with the sound
of her fading footsteps,
each one an exclamation mark
to a sentence the world tragically
instilled in her long ago
"find something beautiful, then
let it go.

I just want to
smoke my cigarettes
& drink my whiskey
& for you to love me
for the monster I am.

i still have
the scarlet scarf
you gave me.
it smells of your
wild freedom.

if only we
could
feel what
we remember
and not just
remember
what we
felt.

It was rather beautiful: the way he put her insecurities to sleep. The way he dove into her eyes and starved all the fears and tasted all the dreams she kept coiled beneath her bones.

Loneliness burns in towers of fire around us

so i will say this-
give me your suffering
and i swear it will be carried
even if that means the death
of sorrow inside you
and the birth of sorrow
inside me.

And she tucked herself away in a corner,
quet and foreign to the crowd around her
and all that kept racing through my head
is that the best kind of beauty
is the kind that is mostly ignored.

when the wine is gone
and you remove your tired body from
your steaming bath, come to bed.
do not worry about putting
on your night clothes, naked you'll
come as you know the moon
loves the sight of your bare flesh
through the window.
the sheets are calling your name
my dear.
come as you are.
there is enough love
in me to birth an entirely
new universe and to it
we can run whenever this world
becomes too heavy for our
shaking shoulders.

give me the world
but for Christ's sake,
do not sugercoat it.
give me it raw
and gleaming with
truth.
i want the madness
to twirl me around until
i can no longer stand.
i refuse to be drunk
on a soft world.
the world is cruel,
my love,
you must understand
that,
but in that understanding
you must understand this,
too, just because it is cruel
does not mean it is not
beautiful.

I can love things just by watching her love them. That is how I know, that I love her.

every morning i see a cup of coffee
in front of my sleepy eyes but i am
starting to see things differently,
because of you.
now i see beans, once tossed in hands
and broken down in machines
and placed in bags
sent off somewhere
where the tired people gather.
i see that only because your tenderness
has taught me that we must look beyond
the body of everything and into the soul of all.

she lived with hurricane eyes and fell in love with the way the waves collapsed against her cheeks.

Chaos is an angel who fell in love with a demon