Blinded By The Fire: A Lyrical Poem

When they look out into the sky
blinded by their own light,
do the stars above us ever know
what it looks like at night?

Burning in the blackness
they must feel so alone
but we see them in their billions
admiring their glow

If you feel yourself burn
And you’re blinded by the fire
know that you are not alone
You’re a star up in the sky

When you feel yourself burn
And you feel like you could die
You’re not suffering alone
I am with you in this fight

If I tried to count them all
It would take me all my years
and there would still be more
aflame in their own fears

Of one thing I am certain
Our pain is only now
One day we’ll pull back the curtain
We will make it out somehow

And if your memories
are haunting you tonight
you’re not hurting by yourself
cause I am with you in this fight

If you feel yourself burn
And you’re blinded by the fire
know that you are not alone
You’re a star up in the sky

When you feel yourself burn
And you feel like you could die
You’re not suffering alone
I am with you in this fight

There’s still beauty in your life
I am with you in this fight.
One day you’ll see the starry night.

~Robert JV Christensen

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Blue Ribbon Octopus

Boy do I have news for you, my inklings.

All I can say is wow.  I just got home last night from an impromptu trip to Lincoln, NE to the fabulous Constellation VI sci-fi convention.  Hosted by the charming and hilarious toastmistress Sabrina Sumsion.  If you are in the area come check it out, the people are fantastic and there’s a wonderful atmosphere of fun and community permeating the event.  “But why,” you might ask, “was the octopus at a sci-fi convention?”

Fighting with a Project? Don’t Give Up!

I’ll be absolutely honest.  I’ve been having a difficult time with my time travel piece.  It’s in part because I haven’t made the time to sit down with it, and also because the rest of my life has been running me down like I’m a tunnel digging prison escapee.

At the moment I’m hiding in a metaphorical ditch while life shines its spotlights across the marsh from only a few feet away.  The slightest breath and I might have to go be an adult and do life things.  So let’s make the most of this time together before life finds me and throws me back in the clink.

The Chisel : A Poem

The chisel chips away,
knocking out a rough hewn shape,
flakes of stone, once my own,
cast to the ground.

I wanted so badly to belong,
stay stone clasped to the bedrock,
quartz among quartz,
marble among marble,