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Best Poems Written by Chris Yellow

Below are the all-time best Chris Yellow poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

Morning

A muffled sound,
alarmed my ears
sharpening the senses.

My feet found the ground
before I could ask,
hands risen avoid shadows.

I tiptoed my way
through the dark corridor
anxious to find the door.

It was closed,
but I could hear feet
bouncing on the bars.

First placed my hand
on the cold knob
trying my best to relax.

Though the pounding
of a heart echoed
through my brain.

I opened it wide
as silently as
I could tremble.

A dim light escaped
filling the small room
with a eerie gloom.

Her head shot up
her eyes widened
with unspoken relief.

Her hands held
towards me in
completely vulnerable.

She could see me,
knew help had come
to set her free.

Soon released a giggle,
no words yet
just infantile drivel.

The beautiful sound
of a magical morning
in all daily glory.


 - as published in 2019 Havik - Las Positas College

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

A Star Is Born

When huge amounts of mass
are so tightly compressed
becomes so dense
that it starts to burst.

Heat reaches values such
that the flames possess
the ability to generate
new elements from scratch.

Years of light traveled
to all corners of the universe
will delight our sight
in a simple shiny dot.

A child reaches up
pointing to the black veil
where a new spot
brightens the night.

"Look a star."
Then runs to measure
its height and angle
the color and texture.

She blinks back
nice to meet you too.

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

Quantum

Imagine, as they nowadays do,
that matter is actually
not in one place precisely,
that when the quantity
is really really small
and speed is rather high,
(so no cat, nor box, nor standing still)
matter becomes light
and light matter alike,
E=mc^2 and all that.

At this quantum scale
if you measure a particle's place
you know exactly where it stood
but not when it did so.
During that moment
it is not spread over all
in a probability wave
or a distribution of matter.

Yet funny things happen!
Like, passing instead
one single particle
through two holes,
this unequivocally shows
it not in any one place
but spread in a wave
from it you get time,
(take my word for it)
but not space.

So is the puzzle,
of quantum!

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

The Balance Is One To Nurture

The balance is one to nurture.
The inside compass tips the scale
towards our insignificant survival
but it is faced eyes locked,
with jets of heat exhaled,
and pointy horns ahead
digging our hooves on the sand.

As if we could overpower nature.

In its indifference it laughs.
Earth shaped by volcanoes,
and the drifting land and seas,
carved by the feet of dinosaurs,
embraced by the roots of trees,
are but a dot on the cosmos.
The secrets of their years in rings
are but a tick of the clock.

As if nature need us.

It will draw a new path
grow new pets and sleep
an infant's game.

We on the other hand,
need the measure of the grain,
can't breath with less oxygen,
would burn with one degree more
and freeze with a single less.
We are the center of this mess
but we also own its consequence.

"Stars cannot shine without darkness"
is romance of fiction,
and not the reason they parade
thousands light-years away.
We are the ones that cannot
gaze into their bright eyes
during our specific day
or point at when they shy behind
the shade of our burning sun.
Wonder, would they mind
if we were to be blind?
or would we alone complain
our starless turn of days?

We for ourselves must maintain
our advantage in the game,
listen to the rumors inside the brain
built in chips of evolutionary gain,
so we don't become the fossils
getting brushed off layers of soils
by historian pawns of a new board
making assumptions over today.

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

Cosmic Background Radiation

Oh universe ye tellst to us thy tale,
thy megaphone part of a second old
fills all the vacuum in microwave
throughout the space ye darest to unfold.

So then more time passed than words might describe,
diverted by their dating with the stars
thy low cry was lost "electronics noise",
forgivest the limits of the species!

Fortune by their hunger of publishing
a profet's word of thy construct was found
the story of the beginning within
the silent global continuous sound.

The big bang of concept when theory
meets experience not scientist fear.

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

Tear Drops

Salted water released
like an elastic band
loose my ribs cage
finally allowin' air in.

Roll down cheeks
turn at the jaw
trace down the neck
caress my armor.

When all else is pain
this human reflex
revives the senses
makes me feel again.

Let slide, wash away
like soul rain
brighten the grey
bring back sun-rays.

Oh, please let it begin.
What I wouldn't give,
in this moment I'm in,
for my dry eyes to spill.

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

Tonight We Dance

She raised her glass 
to a space of fragrance 
gifts of perfumers and chefs 
bees for our banquet. 

"Tonight we dance." 

Her glass rose 
and so did theirs. 

"Outside this stained window 
lose specs forced to shake 
water flushed from the sky 
as if migration made it light. 

Zeus and Thor collude 
against our dinner feast 
abhorred by its stature 
green isn't color that fits. 

Nevertheless, 
tonight we dance." 

And her glass rose again 
with them cheering it. 

"Youth flee their lessons 
burdened with pesky 
and serious concerns 
long past their tender. 

For what of their guardian, 
exhausted will she manage? 
the pilling of warnings? 
of crossroad endings? 

Regardless, 
tonight We dance."

And her glass rose again, 
they're lost at her turn. 

"Broken close their eyes 
to their fate and its price 
they planned for luck solely 
but got struck instead. 

Their doctors prescribed 
but held was their fund 
for useless is the mallet 
to the insurance wallet.

Anyway, 
tonight WE dance." 

And her glass rose again 
but gone was their wit. 

"Looking-in hands implore, 
forsaken howl at our spoils 
like wolfs without a den 
or a pack to take them in. 

They'll surrender to the rain 
and recoil to any found dent 
of this majestic construction 
to remind'em where they stand. 

All the more reason, 
TONIGHT WE DANCE! 
Because we can!" 
And she gulps the wine. 

Slowly the stunned room, 
in its palpable gloom, 
was silently emptied. 
The extravagants gone. 

"Good, only I remain, 
let it linger just the same 
in their spoiled brains. 
For we alone hold the chains."

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

Lion Heart Meets Its Match

Pussy here owns the place!
From the front window frames
to the corners of the garage,
the floors kiss his pillow paws
in his slick sleepy parades.

Between the gate and the ground
where little light squeezes down to
greet Lion-heart with the birth of day,
an intruder crawled in today.

Filled with the size of his name,
forward his shoulders rolled
like only a hunter may.
But as he closed the space
to face he who stole the sun,
slower got his steady pace
for light could breach again
hitting the slender silhouette.

His crown would not allow
a second guessing of his step,
the long curvy trespasser
should have to slither back.

The snake full bellied
by larger a mammal
blinked once and twice,
but it gave no surrender sign.
She had to analyze the insanity
that made it try tower over her.

And as the reptile's head
lifted in the magic of its ways
above the tall held cat
she could distinguish sweat
breaking behind its gaze,
so she kissed its tiny nose in truce
for she witnessed a lion's heart.

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

Adrenaline Shot

Feel the compression rising
on my combusting engine,
like a turbo button pressed
by the current happening.

The brain then fireworks
into chaotic overdrive,
kick that drops me almost
face down on rushing ground.

In that split of a second
that lasts a horrid century,
I force back the reins.

Focusing this flood of energy
into the eminent task ahead
that assaulted my head.

Details | Chris Yellow Poem

Fear of Anticipation

Apprehensively extend unsteady fingers
confirm externalization of the beat I hear.
Heat waves tighten my lungs in hollow breaths
and quick sanded is the lock on my knees.

The moment approaches with inescapable aura
trapped on my own irrevocable stubbornness
my body ignored in the ambition to tame
this frightened drum that sounds the rhythm of life.

I focus on the increasingly distant instant
in which I look back at this nonsensical state
and laugh at my disproportionate frail disgrace.

Eyes travel to fruitful ground of conquest
that requires dominance over this, a test
which is the control of our spirits vehicle.