“How My Wife Completes Me”
To Mrs Bob. I thought I was wholebecause I managed to stay alive in my own skin,because I learned how to stand without shaking,but I was wrong. Endurance isn’t the same thing as arrival.I didn’t know that then.I thought standing alone was strength,like isolation was proof I could never break.Like I didn’t need anyoneto catch…
The Duvet Heist (Togs 11)
It’s the middle of the night,And I’m here, half-frozen,Lying in the icy abyss of my side of the bed,While sheThe Duvet BanditSleeps like a queen on her fluffy throne,Curled up in the warmth of her stolen kingdom,Oblivious to the tundra she’s left behind. Each night it’s the same.I think tonight,Maybe tonight,I’ll win the war.I’ll slip…
“How to Disappear Without Anyone Calling the Cops”
We let the morning ring outlike an alarm clock that learned our namesand decided not to embarrass us.Sunlight leans through the blindspitching productivity like a pyramid scheme.We mute it.Your shoulder is a countryI keep renewing my passport for.We inventory the silence,find it fully stocked. I practice stillnesslike it’s a vow I plan to keep.Outside, errands…
Your Smile is The First Majick I Ever Belived In
As we near the shortest day of the year, The Winter Solstice, and, more importantly (to me) my wedding anniversary, I usually write a scribble with Mrs Bob in mind. After all, a poem is for anniversaries, not just for valentines. So with that in mind, I give you… Your Smile, the First Magic I…
Dark poets “Track 13”
This year, The Dark Poets Club had a new and interesting competition. The rules are simple… impress the judges with a dark poem, using fifty words or less. This was a serious challenge for me as I’m usually quite loquacious in my pieces! I had to take a scalpel out and cut the words to…
Echoes of a Sky We Can’t Forget
The sky cracks open like an old photograph, each flash a sharp reminder of the silence we can’t outrun. Fireworks are just bombs with better PR, but we still stand, mouths agape, staring at the chaos above, wondering if we’ll ever look at the sky without waiting for it to fall. (c)BobChristian
Whispers of The Veil
(A Samhain Invocation) The veil thins like torn silk, Frayed at the edges where shadows crawl, Night spills its ink across the sky, And for once, just this once, We are not afraid of the dark. The air crackles with an ancient breath, Whispers from the underworld rise like smoke, Curling through the cracks in…
“Hello Old Friend”
This piece was originally written for the Dark Poets competition III where it went on to achieve a shortlist. It’s an incredibly personal scribble, but my dark poetry is like that; I guess it’s a form of therapy. (Since then it’s been featured in a number of other publications.) Hello Old Friend “Hello Old Friend”…
The Unfiltered Reality of Love
Love isn’t a highlight reel, Or snapshots of sunsets and brunches, Not the perfectly staged, ‘spontaneous’ moments With hashtags like #SoBlessed, #LivingMyBestLife As if happiness can be filtered. As if joy can be photoshopped. It’s the messy, gritty reality. The late-night debates That spiral into arguments. Where voices rise and hearts race. Two souls colliding in a…
Not All Fires Burn In The Streets
They told us the revolution wouldn’t be televised, But they forgot to mention it might be live-streamed. Might be a screenshot, reposted, tagged. Buried beneath brunch photos, Then resurrected by a hashtag. Truth is, sometimes the front line has a comments section. We used to pass flyers. Now, we pass tweets. Used to march down…
Every Forty Seconds
Years ago, I learned some truly shocking statistics about suicide – 800,000 lives lost every year. That’s one life every 40 seconds. It’s a deeply uncomfortable topic for many, but it’s one we simply can’t keep ignoring. The truth is, suicide is the leading cause of death for men between 20 and 49. And while…
The Art of Being Unapologetically Me”
You see, I navigate the world like a cat in a dog park, With a GPS that only knows the route to my comfort zone. Conversations are like trying to solve a Rubiks cube While riding a rollercoaster; Colourful, chaotic, and I’m holding on for dear life. People say: “Just look me in the eye”…
The Art of Letting Go
Some problemsAre like stones in your pocket.You’ve carried them so long,They’ve started to feel like lint.Familiar. Small. Permanent.But just because something feels like homeDoesn’t mean it’s not hurting you. Sometimes,Healing starts with a questionAsked at 3am, in a whisper:”Why am I still holding this?”And maybe your hands don’t answer,But they tremble.And that’s enough. So you reach…
Halfway to a Hundred
I turned 50 today, Which means I’m halfway to 100. I’m still arguing with my knees About whose great idea it was To chase my dreams barefoot on concrete. I woke up this morning With a wrinkle, I don’t remember meeting. A grey hair in my beard that calls me ‘sir’, And a back that…
Even This Moment Is Just Passing Through
In some universe, You never tripped over that heartbreak, Never cried into your morning coffee. In another, You’re dancing in the rain, shirt open Soaked to the bone, yet still smiling. The multiverse is infinite. Your problems aren’t. They just feel like they’re everything because right now, they are. But even this moment has neighbors where it’s already better. (c)BobChristian
Voicemail (pt Two)
I once heard a voicemail, A ghostly whisper through static. My grandfather’s voice, Heavy from the weight of hospital walls. “Hey son,” he said, “Thanks for stopping by that day, It meant the world to me.” His words rolled in like thunder, Drowning out the sterile quiet of my room, A storm of his pride,…
Voicemail (pt One)
I stand here, My promise hanging in the air Like a ghost. My words echoing in my mind “I’ll see you again, I promise.” But life has a way of rewriting our scripts, And I never got the chance to say Goodbye. You were the man Who taught me the art of stories. Who could weave…
Dark Poets Club
A while ago I told you that I’d entered a competition being held by the Dark Poets Club. I was very pleased to be given an honourable mention and publication on social media by them. It’s a piece called “Eternal Garden of Shadows”, which is from a collection of pieces that I’ve called “Life of…
It’s Finally Here..!
I’m very proud to announce that my next book of poetry is now available on Amazon; in both old school paperback, and kindle format. It’s also on Kindle Unlimited. This book has been around four years in the making, and I’m certainly looking forward to seeing what you think of it. People that have read…
Aeos Magazine
This is a brand new literary and culture magazine who have kindly included one of my pieces in their first issue. I’m thrilled to bits! If you’d like to take a look, you can purchase it from their online store, below: https://aeos.bigcartel.com/
Squirrels
The place where I work is by the side of a river (The Dart). There are many trees along the bank, so we have lots of wildlife, including a group of squirrels. They all have their own characters; that being said, I was trying to work on Friday morning when there was an awful racket…
Guido
It’s coming to that time of year again, when we remember some past events and celebrate certain others. This can be a very stressful time of year for some of us, not only for our furry friends and wildlife creatures who can’t speak up for themselves, but also for those brave individuals that have seen…
Shocked
This is the first result of several of the competitions I’ve entered this year. So I’m very proud to announce I managed an honourable mention.
Hard Work Pays Off
Around two decades ago, following the advice of a therapist, I decided to write my feelings down in a journal. I was having some trouble in processing my emotions, and the therapist believed it would help me. I did this for a while, and gradually, I began to take the things I’d written, and turned…
Jesters Crown
By Bob W Christian In this relentless circus of headlines and chaos, A tweet isn’t just a tweet, it’s a Molotov cocktail; Igniting wildfires in the minds of millions. And there he stands, the world’s biggest victim and victor. A jester with a crown, screaming injustice at every trial, Trials that flicker, fade, then explode again. Witch hunts,…
Twenty-Five Past Eternity.
Staring at the clock, it mocks my plight.Five minutes left, or so it claims, But time has turned to molasses;Every tick a tiny giggle, As my coffee grows cold, andMy chair re-forms to my shape. It’s then that I ponderThe deeper questions,Like if I can train my stapler to fetch, Or if the printer is…
Dullahan
In the ink of night, where shadows dance like whispers, Rides the Dullahan, headless, relentless.Upon a steed as black as the void it carries. Eyes that are not there, see everything.A mouth that does not speak screams silently.For he is the herald of death, The unyielding messenger of the inevitable. The road stretches endlessly under…
Grandfather Time
The three stages of life: Youth, manhood, old age. The reaper uses his scythe To sever the thread of life, Grandfather Time
You did what?
I once told my wife she was wrong. Yeah, that only happened once. The walls took a deep breath like they were about to dive into drama, The clock decided to take a coffee break. Even the cat gave me that “Dude?” look before moonwalking out of the room. (c)BobChristian
N00d7es
A fluffy feline, all cuteness and coos, Lulls the world with her innocent ruse. But when the lights dim, a switch she flicks Her furry façade hides her secrets and tricks. For under the moonlight this agent elite Prowls with a purpose, a master of sneak. Leaping through shadows, her movements so fleet, Unraveling mysteries,…
The Ramblings of Bob Christian 