THE FEEL OF RAIN
The feel of rain
Is the feel of love:
Wet, and soft
Snug as a glove
The sound of rain
Is the sound of your voice:
Warm, full of fire
Flooding me in desire
The sound of rain
Is the sound of your voice:
Insistent, persistent
Always hoping
The sound of rain
Is the sound of your voice:
Far away, very...
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The feel of rain
Is the feel of love:
Wet, and soft
Snug as a glove
The sound of rain
Is the sound of your voice:
Warm, full of fire
Flooding me in desire
The sound of rain
Is the sound of your voice:
Insistent, persistent
Always hoping
The sound of rain
Is the sound of your voice:
Far away, very...
Read More
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
pippobau:
dear Chris, everyday i love your poetry more and more!! This is the most musical of your poems, i really hear the melody, when i read it!!!
ta2dmom:
This makes me miss the rain a lot.
POETRY CD's AND POETRY BOOKS FOR SALE
I have poetry cd's for sale on cdbaby. You can sample some of my spoken word poetry at
www.cdbaby.com/cd/christophersteele. The cd has 38 audience friendly poems on it. My poetry
and the way I recite it is very entertaining. You can purchase the cd's at cdbaby. They charge
$12.97 + shipping anywhere in the world.
My poetry book...
Read More
I have poetry cd's for sale on cdbaby. You can sample some of my spoken word poetry at
www.cdbaby.com/cd/christophersteele. The cd has 38 audience friendly poems on it. My poetry
and the way I recite it is very entertaining. You can purchase the cd's at cdbaby. They charge
$12.97 + shipping anywhere in the world.
My poetry book...
Read More
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
nikonphoto80:
If I can come up with the money I will try to get one from you. I have lots of bills.
koala:
Neat! I would love a copy! 
Hee, Hee!
There are spirits in the room, muh ladee
Have a drink; hee, hee!
There are spirits in the room, muh ladee
"Ooh!"
Have a drink; hee, hee!
There are spirits moving in the room, muh ladee
Don't you feel them
"Oooh! Oooh!
I feel a hand moving up my skirt"
Those are the spirits, muh ladee
Hee! Hee! Hee!
There are things in...
Read More
There are spirits in the room, muh ladee
Have a drink; hee, hee!
There are spirits in the room, muh ladee
"Ooh!"
Have a drink; hee, hee!
There are spirits moving in the room, muh ladee
Don't you feel them
"Oooh! Oooh!
I feel a hand moving up my skirt"
Those are the spirits, muh ladee
Hee! Hee! Hee!
There are things in...
Read More
VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
churtch:
Phenomenal and dirty, and phenomenal... i love it
friskey:
YOu are a dirty quirky leprechaun.
you made me giggle
you made me giggle
Baby Food
Little bald men marching to the war
Onward, onward
So far to go
For these little men
In the year of 2 thousand 89
Little bald men marching to the war
Freshly out of their mothers' wombs
And love and hate
love and hate
Keep these little bald men marching off to wars
With a bottle of artificial mothers' milk in their left...
Read More
Little bald men marching to the war
Onward, onward
So far to go
For these little men
In the year of 2 thousand 89
Little bald men marching to the war
Freshly out of their mothers' wombs
And love and hate
love and hate
Keep these little bald men marching off to wars
With a bottle of artificial mothers' milk in their left...
Read More
VIEW 17 of 17 COMMENTS
dinos:
This is a lovely poem. So good to read an anti war piece that breathes out hope.
If only more people in this world could just stop what they are doing, and think. Love and respect are things we should all share with one another automatically.
As Edwin Starr sung:
War, huh, yeah
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Also, another one from the end of the classic 80's film War Games:
David Lightman: [To Joshua the computer] Come on. Learn, goddammit.
[After playing out all possible outcomes for Global Thermonuclear War]
Joshua: Greetings, Professor Falken.
Stephen Falken: Hello, Joshua.
Joshua: A strange game. The only winning move is not to play. How about a nice game of chess?
If only more people in this world could just stop what they are doing, and think. Love and respect are things we should all share with one another automatically.
As Edwin Starr sung:
War, huh, yeah
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing
Also, another one from the end of the classic 80's film War Games:
David Lightman: [To Joshua the computer] Come on. Learn, goddammit.
[After playing out all possible outcomes for Global Thermonuclear War]
Joshua: Greetings, Professor Falken.
Stephen Falken: Hello, Joshua.
Joshua: A strange game. The only winning move is not to play. How about a nice game of chess?
wenis:
mmmm baby food.
very cool poem.
very cool poem.
I Love You
I am me and
You are you and
You are me and
I am you and
The universe is me and
The universe is you and
The stars fall into my eyes and
The sound of your voice is like the
Sound of an angel singing: somewhere
Very near I think perhaps inside your womb and
The sound of bubbles in your...
Read More
I am me and
You are you and
You are me and
I am you and
The universe is me and
The universe is you and
The stars fall into my eyes and
The sound of your voice is like the
Sound of an angel singing: somewhere
Very near I think perhaps inside your womb and
The sound of bubbles in your...
Read More
VIEW 26 of 26 COMMENTS
maryjane:
it is a beautiful poem! makes me feel all warm. your words make me feel even more excited to meet my little baby. just the imagery of the mama feeding her baby evokes such emotion out of me right now. thanks for that, i love it 
:mj:
:mj:
dinos:
The perfect expression of what true love is. Beautifully written!
Tired Old Poet Blues Or: The End
I got these tired old poet blues
God, I've been knocking on doors
And ringing telephones
That noone wants to answer blues
I'm tired and I'm old
I look old and I feel old
But not in my heart
In my heart I'm a mooney-eyed
Young boy, a young poet
Walking down sunlit and moonlit gravelly, dusty country...
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I got these tired old poet blues
God, I've been knocking on doors
And ringing telephones
That noone wants to answer blues
I'm tired and I'm old
I look old and I feel old
But not in my heart
In my heart I'm a mooney-eyed
Young boy, a young poet
Walking down sunlit and moonlit gravelly, dusty country...
Read More
VIEW 26 of 26 COMMENTS
chrissteele:
I have to say this: This does not need to be a short story! It is already a poem! If you don't know the difference, I can't tell you. Even poets disagree as to what is a poem and what is not. Poetry is the ultimate, in whatever someone does. A skyscraper or a pair of shoes or a dance or lyrics to a song can be poetry. There's only one person I know- a super crazy guy, even crazier than me -who had and gave me a definition of poetry - over the phone - oh, he's a poet too. But even by his definition, which I unfortunately don't remember, poetry is a subjective thing. Poetry reaches down and grabs the soul and lifts it up! A locally famous poet once called my poetry dirty and said it wasn't really poetry! Often, when someone feels threatened by someone else's poetry - because it is successful or whatever reason, they claim it isn't poetry. So many people claim they don't like poetry. But when something reaches and touches them deeply and viscerally enough, they respond to it as though it were poetry.
feerlessfreddy:
i enjoy reading about peoples lives. where do you write. do you go to a unique place outdoors or stay inside?
YELLOW AND VIOLET FLEURSDELIS TWINE AROUND MY THROAT
Sometime ago, I was out on a walk on a very lonely, mystic evening in
which the very air seemed alive and vibrant, and everything I felt was
felt - exquisitely ...
Yellow and violet fleursdelis twine around my throat
and grass curdles against my feet bathed in dew; The mallow moon
shines in my eyes. I...
Read More
Sometime ago, I was out on a walk on a very lonely, mystic evening in
which the very air seemed alive and vibrant, and everything I felt was
felt - exquisitely ...
Yellow and violet fleursdelis twine around my throat
and grass curdles against my feet bathed in dew; The mallow moon
shines in my eyes. I...
Read More
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
oxy:
Very nice.
lee:
Nice poem but there is a spelling mistake. It's fleur de lys.
Detroit Ave.
The boom, roar clatter of the automobiles
The click, clack banging of the prostitutes heels
In the hallway
The click, clack chatter of gossip-hungry mouths
The screaming and the yelling of spacy gone-to-hell children
The shouting and the laughter, the grieving and the sobbing,
the fighting and the running of drunks and mad men and women
And I'm alright
On Detroit Ave.
The...
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The boom, roar clatter of the automobiles
The click, clack banging of the prostitutes heels
In the hallway
The click, clack chatter of gossip-hungry mouths
The screaming and the yelling of spacy gone-to-hell children
The shouting and the laughter, the grieving and the sobbing,
the fighting and the running of drunks and mad men and women
And I'm alright
On Detroit Ave.
The...
Read More
VIEW 22 of 22 COMMENTS
nana:
this is very nice
liu:
YOU ARE AMAZING
I LOVE YOU HONNEY BUNNY!
IS A GLAD READ YOU, WELL I CANT READ VERY WELL IN ENGLISH BUT Y TRY AND I LOVE YOUR WORDS
DIRTY KISSES FOR YOU
I LOVE YOU HONNEY BUNNY!
IS A GLAD READ YOU, WELL I CANT READ VERY WELL IN ENGLISH BUT Y TRY AND I LOVE YOUR WORDS
DIRTY KISSES FOR YOU
POETS GOTTA FOOL AROUND UNTIL THEY DIE
God came into my room, one evening
He sat on the bed, next to the chair
He played His guitar and He began this song:
I know you've been working hard, green eyes
And I know you've been down
I know you've been lonely
And I know you've been sad
So I came to give you this message,...
Read More
God came into my room, one evening
He sat on the bed, next to the chair
He played His guitar and He began this song:
I know you've been working hard, green eyes
And I know you've been down
I know you've been lonely
And I know you've been sad
So I came to give you this message,...
Read More
VIEW 14 of 14 COMMENTS
kaosmaker666:
Very Nice!!! Glad you liked the pic's!!!
jinkmaiden:
I think this has to be my favorite so far. Most definitely.
I Never Asked Anybody
There was a time when I never asked anybody for anything
I was trying to be self-sufficient -- ala Ayn Rand
But I wasn't above stealing
You see, I was homeless
Living in the attic of an abandoned house in west L.A.
Winos would come in at night below me
And drink and carry on but they never went up to...
Read More
There was a time when I never asked anybody for anything
I was trying to be self-sufficient -- ala Ayn Rand
But I wasn't above stealing
You see, I was homeless
Living in the attic of an abandoned house in west L.A.
Winos would come in at night below me
And drink and carry on but they never went up to...
Read More
VIEW 24 of 24 COMMENTS
caia:
My set isn't on-line yet! Hope that it'll be soon!
I'm a SG since my set was approved!!!
I'm a SG since my set was approved!!!
dez:
I like this poem most of all... so far. I can relate to wanting to be strong and never ask for anything while being so freakin lonely I could scream. While I've never been homeless, I can relate to the sentiment of the piece.
LITTLE GIRL SKIPPING DOWN THE SIDEWALK
Sometime ago (in the late winter, early spring of 1970) I was riding the bus,
and I looked out the window and I saw this very angel little girl skipping
down the sidewalk, apparently on her way home from school. I went home and I
wrote this poem about her ...
little girl skipping down the sidewalk
hopping and...
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VIEW 18 of 18 COMMENTS
prettymisskittie:
I liked your poem it was cute
sarahinthesky:
Your poetry makes me smile. I love hearing words from long ago, it's awesome that you keep your writting that long.
Your poetry makes me smile. I love hearing words from long ago, it's awesome that you keep your writting that long. SNOT POEM
I once knew a snot-nosed kid
Who ran around with her head so low
It made me sad
I thought I was sad
But she was sadder
And I didn't know why
She was so snot-nosed
She wanted me to write a poem
About snot
But I couldn't do that
__________________________________________________________________
Snot is not pot
It won't make you high
It might make...
Read More
I once knew a snot-nosed kid
Who ran around with her head so low
It made me sad
I thought I was sad
But she was sadder
And I didn't know why
She was so snot-nosed
She wanted me to write a poem
About snot
But I couldn't do that
__________________________________________________________________
Snot is not pot
It won't make you high
It might make...
Read More
VIEW 19 of 19 COMMENTS
frenchkiss:
I LOVED that poem...It did make me laugh!
koala:
This poem made me laugh! I'm sorry I didn't get to check it out sooner!
I'm sorry I didn't get to check it out sooner!