Christopher's Stories

River in the Sky

christopher0105 — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 05:11:04 +0000

As I go floating by on this neverending river of white with flecks of blue. I often wander is this a river a river in the sky. This rolling cload and mist makes me want to sit and watch it pass like one sitting listening to a small creek or river pass. The sound of winds everchanging tone and the roll of the cloads has a dance all its own. like a river or rippling brook has its own song and dance as it goes down ans on its way. flying about the land and in this river of swirling mist i stop to think and get lost in the rolling mist.

I know that in this worl most do not stop and look up to the sky tatusally blue sky that can change just as fast to a raging storm and a sky full of darness and rolling thunder. Usally its not tell its raining down on us do we look at the sky and think ‘hay stop raining.’ well maybe its the skys way of saying dont just look up at me when im sad. look at me when the sun is bright or when the stars and moon are out… Stop and enjoy lifes small blessings.
well so much for a small poem. guess i just had other thing and a way to say it.

Thoughts in the air

christopher0105 — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 16:22:03 +0000

Ok so I’m going to be flying in a airplane tomorrow. Might think up so great poems about flying. one of man’s most thought about dream, and fantasy. To fly…just the thought will send shivers down ur spine. maybe you want to fly like superman(cape not included :p ), or have wings likr a angel, or like in the maximum ride novels(totally awesome if u ask me) ether way men has longed to fly liek the birds, free from the earth, free to be…what ever they want to be, go where they want to go, see all that they can see.

christopher0105 — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 04:30:51 +0000

Well its been a while since i last posted on this. sorry about that peoples. I been a tad busy working on my book, and other things. have not gotten far unfortunately that’s writers block for you. Terrible thing. Anyway. I plan to try to post on this much more. For those who wise to read my poems, and some of the chapters and such from my books. please go to: http://www.webook.com/projects.aspx?pn=Christopher0105
and click the submission you want to read form any of the projects. feel free to comment. Cant wait to hear from you.

For Aragorn and Arwen

christopher0105 — Sat, 01 May 2010 04:21:20 +0000

For Aragorn and Arwen

“Tender love hidden beneath growing trees and blissful gardens,
in the Elven halls of Imladris did it bloom.
Lady Arwen and Aragorn did love as deeply as Beren and
Luthien Tinuviel of old.
Mortal man doomed to die and Elven kind doomed to remain
under the stars.
Yet they loved as if the world would crumble before there
feet and plunge then into darkness.
Aragorn destined to be King, and doomed to die,
Arwen Undomiel(Evenstar) destined to go to the Undying Lands, and remain
forever fair.
But both remained true, and loved even as the years past
and Aragorn was old.
Arwen the lady fair remained young and pale and stayed
by his side.
even in death did she stand by his side and weep for the
passing of the King.
Arwen wandered in the woods under the stars weeping
for her love as Luthien had done.
Arwen fair passed on to the undying lands and once again
beheld her husband Aragorn tall and fair.
together like Beren and Tinuviel they lived in the undying
lands together. forever more happy in the blissful gardens
and trees of Valinor.”

Writer’s nightmare

christopher0105 — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 19:15:46 +0000

What’s a writer’s nightmare? you may ask. Its the sudden block of flowing ideas that rush threw our soul. We try to keep going, but the ideas stopped flowing. We sigh, and pace trying to get the thoughts flowing, but there not going. Where are we going? Where are the thought flowing?
Then a light a shine light bulb dings over are heads, the block is broken the juices start flowing and now we are overwhelmed in ideas we don’t know where to go. the nightmare is over the ideas are flown and we are free to write again.

What to do?

christopher0105 — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 22:46:18 +0000

Here I set on my bed covered in warm blankets, with writers block. looking out my window and doing research for me books trying to get ideas. And guess what nothings coming oh well i will keep trying. I will get a idea sooner or later.
for now I am looking out towards Lookout Mountain with all the trees on it turning and the rain clouds rolling down it bringing rain this way. the smell of fall is thick in the air. i get ideas form stuff,and nature that is around me. so i guess , staring off in to space does have its benefits. I just turned on my thinking music(thank you Enya.) so hopefully i will get ideas soon.

A Percebtible Melody

christopher0105 — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 03:31:41 +0000

I raise my hand
To meet its grasp.
The sweet, tender melody
My heart aches to clasp.

The melody spins and
Weaves around me,
The dance we share
No one else can see.

A harmony brings a lilt,
The melody greets it ecstatically.
My soul meets both
In a joyous moment of ecstasy.

Unable to contain
This occasion of wild delight,
My voice rings out in song—
A creation of Music’s sight.

The harmony fades,
The melody lingers a moment after.
I open my eyes
To see a world blinded in jaded disaster

They had not heard
The melody’s sweet rapture,
Or felt the harmony’s
Playful and mysterious master.

I wonder at my confusion,
Pondering what they had missed.
Why was it that I saw this world;
Only I felt the Music’s passionate kiss?

I searched for an answer inside of me,
Desperate to find reason
That explained why I must be
Of a different kind.

I could only believe I left my
Heart open, a path to be traced—
A door for the melody
That desired to be embraced.

I write this now,
In hope that others might see
A magical world to behold—
A beautiful, tangible reality.

This was written by my friend Stephanie Huff.

The life of an author

christopher0105 — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 03:45:50 +0000

You might think the author has the life; they get famous if their books do well. (You don’t here about the person if they did not go well.) Anyway, there is an untold side to this story.
WE authors have to work hard to get these books written…

1.We have to research people, places,and other things that we want in our books (Thank you Chattooga County Library System, for putting up with my research book requests.)

2. We then have to write the drafts and that takes time, especially if we get writers’ block.

3. There is so much that goes in to making books, so instead of just reading the books, thank the author who wrote it,thank him/or her for taking the time to put there ideas, dreams, hope, and imagination on paper for you.

So don’t just look at the “lucky” life of a famous author, look past that in to their heart and see all the time and effort that went in to the book.
And by the time the author gets famous they need nice a place to relax (if they can).
So I would like to thank my favorite authors that inspired me to write, and thank you for the time you put in your books.

A Cry Of Freedom

christopher0105 — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 18:06:08 +0000

A cry of freedom was heard
Across the waters and the land.
The rule of tyranny will end,
Through the blood, sweat,
And tears of patriots.
The patriotic cry for freedom
Calls to all to bear arms for freedom.
The cry is answered,
The sounds of marching soldiers
Echo through the hills and forests.
The battle for freedom is fierce
And the cry of freedom is answered
By the spilled blood of fallen patriots.
Let us remember all that has happened
In the past battles for freedom
And the present battle for freedom.
Remember the fallen heroes,
Their husbands, wives, brothers, and sisters,
And other family members
That have answered the cry of freedom.

9/11/01 Never forget!

christopher0105 — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 21:42:31 +0000

Freedom’s Cry

“A cry is heard through out the land,
It is a cry of lamination for the broken land.
A cry to mourn our fallen friends,
And to mourn the broken families
Of loved ones lost in the ashes of terrorism.
Our spirits are shattered
And lying in the dust
Like a spear broken upon a shield.
The darkness of terror is at our door
As we cry and mourn.
But out of the darkness there is a light,
The light of hope from above.
A cry of freedom is heard
And the light of hope brightens.
With this hope we can rise
Like the Phoenix.
Out of the ashes of terror and fear.”

“Freedom’s Cry” was written by:Christopher B. Oliver

In Honer of the People who died in the September,11th Terrorist Attacks.

You are not Forgotten.