by Chris Chant

Stand up

We are all living
We are all dying
Ask for forgiving
When the soul is flying

We can all speak
We can all be silent
Tested at our peak
When the world is violent

We can all act
We are all still
We choose to react
To help at will

We can all love
We can all hate
Cleanse the fisted glove
Before it’s too late

We can all kiss
We can all shout
Think of the effect
When we open our mouth

We can all laugh
We can all cry
Leave no wrath
When you die

We can choose wrong
We can choose right
No one belongs
In a sense of fright

We can all be kind
We can all be mean
We can all be blind
To the horrors we see

We can all be quiet
We all have a voice
We all have a chance
To make the right choice

by Chris Chant

White light

I have no ideas
Only thoughts that pass through me in seconds,
Do I choose to embrace the emotions this brings,
Or ignore the creativity
And the imagination buried deep inside
That rises to my consciousness
In that split second,
The risk is in the exploration
Of this time period,
To delve in the dark,
Step foot in my minds blindspot
And view the games it plays
When I’m not looking.
Without this I am dull
A blank canvas of regret,
So I explore
And take the chance everytime
That reality will pull me back.

by Chris Chant

Parachutes

I feel sad and I cry
I cry because I lie
I lie to calm the day
Smile the hours away
But Deep inside I hide.
Real grief not lame belief
Brings relief,
A chance to be real
With how I feel
That comes with sadness
An emotional mess
Which comes naturally to me,
I can’t fake happy
I try but not really
I pretend to smile
But it goes on awhile
And becomes lazy
A Face of a crazy,
So I stay the side of sad
I know it sounds mad
But it’s all I know
To help me grow
So at least i can blend
And try and make a friend.

by Chris Chant

Toleration

Toleration

‘Not more words from prophet of doom
Where does this soul find the room?’
-‘Its true I write the bad I’ve felt
Dark places I’ve been, edges I’ve knelt
-‘Inside their head those words of pain
What do they ever hope to gain?’
-‘An outlet I use, a voice to spread
Of all the things I wished I said’
-‘I bet they always need help and reliance
Bringing people down with their awkward silence’
-‘I feel the tensions, sense the sound
Its harder sometimes when I’m around’
-We’ve all had issue’s, we just don’t tell
Why do they have to sulk and dwell’
-‘I’m affected worse it’s my mind you see
Stick around I’m actually quite funny’
-‘Truth is I don’t understand or relate
Surely writing this will seal their fate’
-‘I want to feel joy and that’s the key
Depressions easy to feel but harder to see’
-‘Just carry on, life’s way too short
We all suffer, just don’t give it a thought’
-‘I suffer alone, head in my hand
The reasons why I don’t understand’

by Chris Chant

Flight

Flight

Escape not from this room
You knew this
You knew impending doom
Not apparent bliss.

No chance to escape
Fight or flee
Your autonomy raped
It’s not different, you see

I will squeeze for life
Control the blood
Distract the mind
Search for love

Pain rather than avoidance
Hope better than death
Control is in the thought
Fear is in the breath

by Chris Chant

Antidote

Run run run away
The thread is wearing thin
Escape escape escape this place
No one knows where you’ve been

Flee flee flee this cave
Don’t know what you might find
Help help help yourself
Take possession of your mind

Change change change direction
Squeeze the blood out From your hand
Free free free the poison
Maybe now you’ll understand

by Chris Chant

Blue Sky

The view is amazing from here
The calm and the peace
I wonder if this is how it feels
When the body ends its lease

I see some people below me
A muddle of colourless shapes
I hope they leave soon
I’ll ignore them while I wait

Now I can hear pure song
Dizzyness as the birds sing
Yes this will be my last memory
Slowly as I swing.

by Chris Chant

Fallen

When sat alone
With the weight of blood
Panicked in solitude
Restricted from external wounds
Do we cry,
Or lie down upon the sympathy?
Voicing the same tale
To heighten ears
Imagining on empathic fears
Which soon dies
From curious eyes.
The scars of eternity sparks interest
To unknown generations
Seeking if the whispers are truth.
They are, if not worse,
Bones were cracked
Shock crushed the breath,
The story revealed forever wrapped in light
Never disclosing
How close we were to death.

by Chris Chant

Wasted

Time lately concentrated
Memorized seconds calculating
To World domination,
Mass hallucination in forms of cogs
All seeing eyes
Ticking to a smile,
Hourglass hands set individually
Scrutinizing households
Watching
Waiting,
To a specific date
When no clock is late
End of time.

by Chris Chant

Amputated

A finger cut loose
Separated from the Dominant hand
Leaving others broken and fractured,
A poorly sight of Deformed appendages left limp and tragic,
Is this fate?
Trying to manipulate my train of thinking
A threat carried out
To stop the written hand
Producing my verses of alternatives
Converting black into grey,
Am I Getting to close
To warrant a mystical warning,
A pointed finger cursing mine
Forcing me to throw down tools
Over The edge of damnation,
What next my eyes, My mind,
Should I stop banging my words
Into an order of verse
That wakes the sleeping baby of chaos.

No these thoughts exist Because we exist,
I will take my Sacrifice
And keep bringing forth
The fantasy of my world
Blending thinly into theirs,
By believing is creating,
Giving thoughts a substance
To make nightmares whole,
The warning I will heed
But it proves that I would bleed
To thrive in the unknown,
Unlock doors to interpretations
And bring some kind of order
To the underlying turmoil.