Impregnated With Meaning

Chrischo explains why his poems aren’t as gay as Noahs – and certainly not as good

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Yet Another Love Poem

There she is again, The girl from my dreams, Every night at the hour of ten, She comes back to me, it seems. But she’s not a dream, not made up by my mind, She’s real, she’s my friend, but to my feelings, she is blind. She knows quite a lot, She’s rather clever, But […]

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Mediocre Poem

Sometimes I have bad days where people and life in general fuck me up. And so at the end of such a terrible day I sit down and think to myself “Screw them, I’ll show ’em”, and so I turn on my light, and write a gay-ass poem, in the middle of the night. And […]

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Lost Places And Lost Friends

Some time ago I was exploring some old structures near my hometown. I had no idea what exactly I was looking at, and to be quite honest I still don’t, but I guessed it was used for loading gravel or maybe sand into trucks. It occured to me how weird the process of losing stuff […]

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