I dream of being a poet,
Sharing my thoughts and feelings,
Through beautiful words and phrases,
But it's so tough when the world is crushing me down...
It's almost as though the world wants me to crash and burn...
Motivation is crashing like old buildings collapse,
Hope leaving like the dead leave earth,
Happiness dying like the people at war.
I wanna be a poet, but I'm stuck here in this helpless world with too many people like me.
With hopes and dreams, but no motivation and skills.
With wars that endlessly damage and rampage through cities and towns.
World peace isn't real, dreams are just as fake.
I wanna be a poet, but I have nothing to make up for my wish.
I lack skills and motivation,
I lack pride and dreams,
Perhaps if I was someone else,
I'd be a better poet.
- Cy
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Just realized that the reason I love making friends on tumblr is because it’s exactly how you make friends on the playground as a six year old. No, I don’t know their name but they love mermaids too and built this awesome sand castle. No, I don’t know their age but their imaginary cheetah is friends with mine. You like this show? You like this character?? You can sing the theme song really loud??? Here is a flower crown. Here is a juice box. You can share my time and I might never see you again but part of you stays in my soul forever. In my mind we’re still on the swing set and the sky is blue and nothing will ever be wrong again.
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i'm grateful for your cruelty,
for it gives birth to beautiful creations,
whose eyes are filled with woe.
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2 of my collaborative prose poems just published at CutBank!
CutBank has just published online 2 of my collaborative prose poems written with Dustin Nightingale: "A Crumb of Wind" and "Here Beside Us with Us." Thank you so much Luke Larkin & all the awesome folk at CutBank! Dustin & I are thrilled that our poems have found a home there!
Read ‘em here: http://www.cutbankonline.org/weekly-flash-prose-and-prose-poetry/2022/7/two-poems-by-christopher-citro-amp-dustin-nightingale
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“Concert of Birds” – Frans Snyders (1601) &
"The Threatened Swan” – Jan Asselijn (1650)
found here
Sometimes I do graphic design. If you need some design work, you can reach out to me at
[email protected].
These are flyers for the free monthly online poetry reading, “Well-Versed Words.”
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Am I being silenced?
Or am I just being frustrated nothing more is done?
I want to scream and shout my pain,
From the bottom of my lungs yell and tell.
Yet, I'm molded into this shape, of forgive and forget.
I can't forgive,
I can't forget.
The wound is still fresh and bleeding,
There's blood on your floors and you're ignoring it.
You don't care for me,
You're trying to protect the bully,
While the victim is crying and suffering.
While I'm crying and suffering.
-Cy
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Radium Mother, 1903 by Jane Robinson
Screenshot from Irish Centre for Poetry Studies
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I often wonder how people express themselves if they do not commit themselves in any way to the arts? Presumably most people on the planet do not produce art intentionally so what...do they do with their inner world? Does it just torture them from the inside? Genuinely curious.
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