Chris G. Vaillancourt
Chris G. Vaillancourt Poems
|321.||Another Friday Night||10/16/2009|
|322.||Surrealistic Sunsets And Groovy Eyes||5/6/2014|
|324.||We Dangle Sentences||10/18/2009|
|325.||Naked In The Snow||10/13/2009|
|326.||A Certain Surrender||10/14/2009|
|327.||Come To Me Fickle Words||10/9/2009|
|328.||And I Drift||10/14/2009|
|329.||Chains Of Freedom||10/10/2009|
|330.||A Boy And The Dragons||10/15/2009|
Comments about Chris G. Vaillancourt
A Boy And The Dragons
Shhh. Tell no-one. The dragons are sleeping
like baby lizards in their caves. Breathless from
a day of pillage. Restful after a time of destruction.
Somewhere, on the other side of the hill, a boy
is playing in the woods. Caressing his manhood,
he becomes a symbol of self appreciation.
Be quiet. Don't disturb the boy in his game.
It is his only means of achieving satisfaction.
A reaction would disturb the molecules from
their expected conclusion.
The boy does not realize how close he is
to potential danger. If he awakens the
dragons, he awakens his ...
Come To Me Fickle Words
Come to me fickle words.
Lift the weight from
Let it flow free. Be free. Be renewed.
Lead me to a place of solitude
where I might recreate the
flow of energy