Christopher Brown

Christopher Brown Poems

Christopher Brown Biography

Christopher F. Brown was born in Oakland California and is a proud Bay Area native. At the age of four a young Christopher took to re-writing the ending of one of his favorite children’s books because there were not enough mythological creatures, also because he just did not like the way the story came to its conclusion. This action sparked a love of writing that has stayed with him to this day. At the age of ten Christopher was given an assignment in which he was to write a short story about his summer vacation. This typical assignment again summoned the budding young writer’s creative spirit. He wrote a ten page short about a young boy being stabbed in the chest on the way to buy the morning newspaper for his mother. It was from this assignment that a fifth grade teacher gave young Christopher his first journal however; Christopher hid his journaling away from foreign eyes for years. Journaling was the place where Christopher hid is thoughts, frustrations, poems, stories, abstract art, secret desires, and confusions about those secret desires. The randomly attractive boy he happen upon in the school’s hallways while pretending to be your average, ordinary, straight, teenage male was one he wrote about extensively. Fast forward a few years, a few failed relationships, and a few hundred journals later, and a friend happened to come across one of his poems and literally begged him for more. After many protests the friend finally convinced Chris to post some of his writings on-line. With the amount of positive feedback he received a more confident writer was born. With this new found confidence Christopher picked up a paint brush and a camera and dove head first into other forms of artistic expression. Today Christopher still posts a vast amount of poetry, short stories, paintings, and photographer on his web site http: //cfbrown.com/)

The Best Poem Of Christopher Brown

Tingling

Capturing a fleeting glance

I wonder.

How did I come to be here?

I question,

“Why me? ”

We all think it.
The brave admit it.

“Where did I fail? ”

Sure

If you look at the now
there are many reasons.

If we go way back when
and talk about those times

Back then

All the right words were said.
All the right things were had.
All the right actions were done.

Still

I am here

With only a fleeting glance.

© Christopher F. Brown 2010

Christopher Brown Comments