Chris Wrzesien

Chris Wrzesien Poems

Once great mighty river,
why so thin? why so tired?
Your raging battle cry through the wood
is now an endless sigh of watery air.
...

I sat backward in the van today
seats so cluttered with junk
that I had to sit on the floor,
staring at the back window.
...

When I sit with my back straight and my eyes closed
vividly visualizing my happy place
on a mountain rock under orange skies
with all my happy people
...

The window woke me this morning,
wanting to witness something new,
so Iwondered whether I should attempt the routine
that only weird and wonderful friends do.
...

I'd rather look to the sky for answers -
she watches the world and provides the rain,
while books are closed and suddenly blinded -
they have no concept of blossoming change.
...

Chris Wrzesien Biography

I'm taking a few months off of college to see the world and hopefully leave boyhood behind. It's called my Summer of Man-a-morphosis. So far I'm working as a handyman apprentice with my uncle, and am hoping to work on some farms in a few months. I like guitar, bikes, blueberries, and girls with red hair.)

The Best Poem Of Chris Wrzesien

To Carry On The Word Of My Old Friend River

Once great mighty river,
why so thin? why so tired?
Your raging battle cry through the wood
is now an endless sigh of watery air.

I walk beside you,
now unafraid of your temper,
enjoying your monotonous song.
Then I look down,
and I am standing in your muddy footprint,
where you galloped in your days of youth,
now too tired to climb back up.

Standing on your polished stones, I now see what you see
Grand canyons to the East and the West
and suddenly I am in more than your footsteps
suddenly, I read your story:

From youth to retirement,
carving these thick valleys
wide, to invite green life.
A tree grows on your bank and, falling,
it lands upstairs upon your hill.
I climb the wooden ladder and stand on your peak -
Graciously growing ever higher as you polish his feet.
From up here, you look small.
Now, you look small.

Now, the remainder of your days
yelling throughout the forest
Look at this valley I have carved!
Alas, no one came
Until you stopped raging
Until you let us walk amongst your peaceful valleys,
with you and unafraid.

Rage no more, Old River,
Flow through time at your own quiet rhythm
For the world will know your life's masterpiece
I will go to them
and sing your praise

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