Chris G. Vaillancourt Poems

The boy was silent, thinking that he blended
Into the turbulence of mangled continuity.
He stayed silent, not a soul befriended.
Diverse emotions raging, so not free
...

Our hearts are empty as we march like ants through
the faded emptiness of our orders. Weary with the

speeches and flags, we focus our collective attention
...

I found your grave today.
It was near the path under
a weeping willow.
...

The midnight smiles.
I write words.

Pockets of emptiness,
...

It's going to be alright. I know how small
a slice might feel, but assuredly it'll heal.

I watch the wind. I taste the air. Enjoying
...

Emptiness is not a disease.
It's a state of mind.
A perspective.
...

The sky in its liquid elegance shakes
and moves the bindings of old memories.

They manifest themselves into clouds
...

We ate the dinner I prepared.
Strong coffee followed.
Relaxing in the living room.
Talking about this and that and other things.
...

Yellow is my colour,
or was,
till I met you.
Then I knew
...

Wanting you.

It grows like an open wound
that bleeds onto the skin.
...