An Old Soul's Journey Enlightening Humanity One Line at a Time by chris f. minshew
An Old Soul’s Journey is an unadulterated examination of society, bureaucracy, and life in general without regard to political correctness. This compilation is cynical at times and somewhat surreal (in a Kafkaesque sort of way) in that it searches for truthe while suggesting it is unattainable.
Chris has a publisher who is excited about publishing this collection of poetry. However, they strongly suggest getting an artist to illustrate his compilation of poems to optimize its selling potential. So...Chris is currently searching for an artist to illustrate "An Old Soul's Journey." If your drawings are anything but ordinary, please fill out the "Contact Form" on the Contact Page expressing your interest in helping with this project. After that, Chris will contact you with information on submitting your work for consideration. An ideal candidate would be someone who draws in a manner no one else considers "normal." Below are a few of the poems that would appear in the collection. You may use them as a basis for drawings to submit. Thanks and good luck!
 POEMS: Hatred’s Little Secret by Chris F. Minshew
False hatred does come in many a form, Their actions, their thoughts, their blame for a storm.
Candidly tapping one’s “beautiful mind” Spreads trails of disease ‘til the end of time.
Blatantly pushing and killing those near, Regrets give way to that shit-eating sneer.
Knowing the sadness and sorrow it brings Is easily outweighed by selfish things.
True hatred does come from many a source, Your kinfolk, your friends, they’re jealous (of course).
********************************************************************************************** Bleep You! by Chris F. Minshew Bleep you for the way you look at me, Bleep you for the way you don’t. Bleep you for all your wisecrack insights That have hit so close to home. Bleep you for being better than me, Bleep you for having such fun. Bleep you for winning every award That could ever have been won. Bleep you for telling me what to do, Bleep you for knowing it all. Bleep you for setting me straight each time I ever did trip and fall. Bleep you for making me say these things, Bleep you for being right there. Bless you is the phrase that has been bleeped, Now you see how much I care? ********************************************************************************************** Exhale by Chris F. Minshew Sweet breath of life that is so faint Come to me in my darkest hour Don’t forsake me or lead me astray For I am yours to the bitter end One with you, I cannot fade Leave me no more in this wicked place My time for dally has come to an end Giver of life, I do regret Not getting to know you sooner than this Wanton sighs are toxic reminders of our wretched past Stay with me now and I promise you this As long as I live I will cherish you greatly Besmirch me no more, sweet breath of life Peace you will bring with your final adventure Your parting is my salvation, lovingly so Wrathful as it may be, my darkness is gone… Illuminated by even the weakest of candles ********************************************************************************************** Mining for Miners by Chris F. Minshew Cynics sow seeds to a bountiful crop The minefield of truthes makes weaker men drop. Forgetful of time & place of battle Believing no less would end the chattel. Ignore history books or what they may say The past won’t repeat – ain’t that just the way! Wanting to go home is never enough Scalding dogs of yore will make you seem tough. Six years in trenches, six years in bleachers The spotlight’s today, ignore the teachers. The two in the bush might even be four Take even longer & settle the score. Something must give without giving away The minefield of truthes – would you like to play? ********************************************************************************************** The Hole of Peep by Chris F. Minshew Exonerate, exonerate o whimsical one The fate of the world at your front door. It continues to knock, but please don’t answer. Your presence it beckons but does not comprehend. The world thrives on conflict but weeps for peace. Why then do you mock those that worship you? Hastily bestow your stinging reprisal. Nonsensical decisions bring you closer every day. Your reality, your truthe, your mere presence Is unfathomable, incomprehensible even. Why are you chased and mocked in the same instance? Those who have known you briefly are highly regarded. Ones knowing you intimately never divulge your greatest secret, Giving rise to such ponderation as this. Forgive me, o whimsical one The fate of my world will surely come knocking. No need to check the peephole, you’ll know… |