Biography of Chris Haifley
I'm really nothing special. My real passion in life is art, but poetry and writing are a big part of me too. I draw abstract and am aiming to become a graphic designer. I love the raw emotion that comes from poetry and visual arts, it just makes life interesting. Anyway, I'm just trying to get out there and show the world some of my poetry and get some feedeback (on the accound that I've been writing privately for years) . And hopefully I'll gain some wonderful information about my poetry, so I can keep writing and find my way: D
Chris Haifley Poems
An Artist's Splendor
I am queen of the acrylics Master of plaster Voyager of vintage. I live to command pens
First it's the smell of the damp ground, Of the woods and the brush, And the waning light. Fright sparks, a flame in the foliage,
Reality Of Candy And Men
'Candy, candy, ' the innocents scream I know what it tastes like; it’s not what it seems These sweets will draw you in and slit your throat For this candy you’re eating is filled with dope
My Body Is A Cage Just there to hold the true Me, I do my best to portray it, But nothing could compare.
*** Never did I would think things would get so bad One bad situation after the other—call me queen of WPWT Call me under aged and hormone enraged
Cliffs, Cars, And Sanity Pills
The absence is stinging Waiting for the low rumble of hope Not knowing if you’re here, where you are (Can you see me? Hear me?) , if you’re there The nights that used to plague you are becoming a dear friend
The Ongoing Struggle Of Genes And Jeans
Here we go again, the insecurity delving deep into her throat As the shame comes pouring out And the tears, mental tears stream down her face This day’s emolument paid for the Life
I'm loosing my friend to technology, She's giving in to the fiction of networking, Falling for an invisible boy, And taking text to heart.
Connections, human connections, like a canopy over my head, Daring to touch them will only result in the loss of who I am, But what am I without (Everyone) ?
The 540 Days
Broken down, chained in, trapped in an atmosphere of power, For an education, we get blocked out from the rest of the world, And we adapt to be content. But trapped in a world of superiors and regulations we have a secret hope to escape,
An Ending Interrupted
Forced back to life, the sterile light envelops him, Not the blue light he hoped for, nor the gray he expected, But a light burning bright with the intensity of Life, Brutal enough to see to the bone.
*** Only with distance keeping us apart, I carried you everywhere I went. Everywhere.
Hiding away, illuminated by a single light An artificial, piercing light That brings everything good, bad, and interesting into my view But also foreshadows turmoil.
If love made flowers grow, what would you raise for me? A field full of Dandelions, weeds, only to be blown away with the wind? That’s fine with me darling, Even Dandelions were full of life at one point.
Never did I would think things would get so bad
One bad situation after the other—call me queen of WPWT
Call me under aged and hormone enraged
Call me the mute
I used to call you my Angel in my high-up junglegym dreams
When my trust and freedom were stitched together with tight, military seams
It didn’t last long, I didn’t know what the military was, WPWT
With eyes in caves and nails in wrists—North is a place I know you will miss