This is the official blog of Northern Arizona slam poet Christopher Fox Graham. Begun in 2002, and transferred to blogspot in 2006, FoxTheBlog has recorded more than 670,000 hits since 2009. This blog cover's Graham's poetry, the Arizona poetry slam community and offers tips for slam poets from sources around the Internet. Read CFG's full biography here. Looking for just that one poem? You know the one ... click here to find it.
Showing posts with label Battlestar Galactica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Battlestar Galactica. Show all posts

Saturday, November 19, 2011



Triple Poetry Feature
Faldwin J. Bard, 
Frank O'Brien and 
Christopher Fox Graham
Sunday, Nov. 20, 6 to 8 p.m. at
Sundara Boutique & Gallery
22 East Route 66, Flagstaff, AZ 86001


These three poets won the high stakes slam 2 weeks ago, for the right to perform in their own show.
This is that show.
For just $2 you can't NOT show up to hear some of Flagstaff and Northern Arizona's best voices, doing their best work.



Faldwin J. Bard
Faldwin J. Bard is a 21-year-old student who does poetry about everything from garden gnomes, to the trials and joys of being queer.
There are probably other interesting things about Faldwin, but you'll have to talk to him to find out. Or go to this show. Preferably both.



Christopher Fox Graham
Christopher Fox Graham is a Montana-born boy raised in Arizona. A slam poet since 2001 and newspaper editor since 2004, he currently hosts the Sedona Poetry Slam and Sedona Poetry open mic.
A member of the first FlagSlam poetry team in 2001, he toured the United States for three months in 2002, won the 2004 Northern Arizona Poetry Grand Slam, the 2005 Arizona All-Star Poetry Slam, and was a member of the 2001, 2004, 2005, 2006 and 2010 Flagstaff National Poetry Slam Teams, which competed around the Southwest and at Nationals. He was also a National Poetry Slam bout manager in 2003 and a venue manager in 2011. He has performed for MTV, on The Travel Channel, published four books of poetry, appeared in 10 spoken word anthologies and on 3 DVDs.
Graham also runs FoxThePoet, a poetry blog.



Frank O'Brien
Frank O'Brien discovered slam poetry in Flagstaff in 2007, and has been a member of the ever growing FlagSlam family since. 
He represented the town at the 2008, 2009 and 2010 National Poetry Slams, and even remembers most of what happened. 
His favorite pastimes are epic fantasy novels, video games, playing with blind dogs and discussing the intricate workings of the universe with his nemesis, Ryan Brown.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

I Already Know You

Azami and I wrote this poem together based on a poem she started writing about me. We performed it for kids at Mohave High School in Bullhead City.

I Already Know You
a duo poem written by Azami and Christopher Fox Graham

Azami

CFG

Maybe I should have warned him

Maybe I should have warned her

that I’ve been through this before



that this is unfamiliar territory

because I knew from that first moment

but I knew from that first moment

everything about him

everything about her

without having to know anything about him


“I already know you”

“I already know you”

is what slipped from my lips



I felt it in her hips

but those four simple words



the way she looked at me

can’t begin to gauge the familiarity

can’t begin to gauge the familiarity

so I stayed

so she stayed

parting with old friends


and being welcomed by new ones


as has become so routine



moving in within days


like she belonged here


and I was the stranger

of my solitary lifestyle

of my solitary lifestyle

to know that I was in love with her mind

to know that I was in love with his mind

it also took one look at the Star Wars painting



mounted above the bed

and lightsaber adoring his wall



I bought her one, too

to know that he was a geek



and she loved it

I don’t have to catch him saying “frak”


to know he’s seen every episode


of Battlestar Galactica



limited edition box set with deleted scenes


and director’s commentary


worth every penny

I had chosen loneliness

I had chosen loneliness


one-night stands to pass the years

constantly falling in love


knowing that wanderlust


would eventually steal me away



but she wanted to stay


wrap her arms around me


and sleep like tangled vines

so while


I was familiar with the heartache

I was familiar with the heartache

of love lost and found



of love found, then lost

by the fourth day


I woke up in his arms listening


to the comedic ramblings


of Billy Collins



Sushi Haiku:


“Midsummer evening


alone at the sushi bar


just me and this eel”

and while we laughed together

and while we laughed together

I silently counted the minutes


wondering how long it would take him


to realize that which


I already knew

I already knew

but I think he figured it out


I think he figured it out

I think I figured it out

when I jokingly asked him to


“please regale me tales of ‘Star Wars’”


and while

I rolled my eyes

OK, Han shot first,

Jar-Jar is a racial stereotype

and while we

cuddled skin to skin

and they didn’t show it,

but Luke and Leia were conceived

on some lazy Saturday morning

on some lazy Saturday morning



I don’t have to believe in prophesies



I believe in prophesies

to understand my human nature

to understand my human nature

so I begin my relationships

so I begin my relationships

with apologies and explanations these days


hoping that if I cover my tracks


it will soften the blow for later


so I begin my relationships

so I begin my relationships


with coffee and a countdown


hoping that if she leaves by sunrise


I prevent the blow from ever landing

realizing that if you live in the moment

realizing that if you live in the moment

you’ve got nothing to fear

you’ve got nothing to fear

besides, I hear broken hearts


make for great poetic inspiration anyways



my poems about broken hearts


could fill libraries

so maybe I should have warned him

so maybe I should have warned her

that I fall in love often



that I never fall in love

and that I’ve seen Battlestar Galactica, too


in the arms of a boy who reminds me of you


I’ve been through this before



I’ve seen this before

and that same force that brought me


into your life like a hurricane



breaking all of my rules

will someday bring me to the doorstep of


someone new



someone new


will one day fill your shoes


we can only last so long


before time parts our paths


onto diverging roads

the time we share

the time we share

is to learn and teach each other

is to learn and teach each other

learn to love and live in the moment

learn to love and live in the moment

all of this has happened before

all of this has happened before

and all of this will happen again

and all of this will happen again

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Love Like a Scar

Betwixt my eyebrows
a three-second mistake
of my 6-year-old self
dug a pox mark divot
forever into flesh
the reminds me daily
in the reflection of mirror,
glass frame and inverted spoon
how a reckless moment
marked me months and miles
after context collapsed into confusion
and left me with a scar that pulls me back into
that moment with increasing vividness
so that the facts
enrich and embellish themselves
a vibrant fiction
worthy of Vonnegut or Tolstoy or Tolkien

she scars memory in the same fashion
breaking my heart
whenever her image emerges from picture frames
or she slips into my peripheral
to hang on every unsaid word
I refuse to speak
knowing the desperation
with which she longs to hear them
I revel in sadistically parrying
her stabs toward my affections
and hate myself for it
the burning pleasure that lurks in abusing power
seeped beneath skin in shameful celebration
best elucidated in how children kill small animals
then tearfully confess to parents hours later
part of me wants to crush her beneath my boot heel
while the other half of me wants to save her from it
unreconciled, the two factions vie for control
of my unsatisfied electorate
whose ever-changing pulse pollsters calculate

I've longed a decade
for a lover beholden to my whims
whose loyalty could dance on my fingertips
and here, she twirls,
a paper doll
I want the conviction of her sincerity
the fire of her resistance
to burn my palms with any attempt to hold fast
she yearns for a master
but I require no puppet
I left my toys in a box
when I chose to play with words
she finds new boys daily
who seek the newest shiny thing
to touch and prod and jiggle
until it breaks or they get bored
I learned too quick
grew up too fast
calculating the physics of matter
while most boys were adding lips to lips
I solved her equation long before I met her
and now want new math
to entice my interests
she bears potential to spend my head like a top
but refuses to try
misbelieving I am some dull creature
like those she's met before

I want to want to love her
free from scars or fictions
let her slip into my mind
as easily as she slips into bed
when I'm too drunk, too tired
or too uninterested to resist
I won't share the parts of me she wants
because she hasn't earned them
she can't invite the army of fingers or
heavy artillery of tongue
or invasion of cock
if my mind generally refuses
to fall for an ambush
I’ve read Sun Tzu too many times
to acquiesce to her bait
or be drawn into the conflict
from which I know there is no swift retreat

I should erect a Great Wall between us
hold back her barbarian mess
stand guard all along the watchtower
and prevent her flanking maneuvers
something in me
longs for a pitched battle
a contest of wits
strategies, forces, and tactics
the conflict between worthy adversaries
a sparring match
a fencing gambit
a card game with control of an empire on the line
because so few past lovers
offered challenge beyond the moment

I pull back too often
shelter in my warm deceptions
hold back from feeling
the fall of water
the touch of soil
the warmth of fire
the caress of wind
and the shutter when nature shatters shelter
too afraid of the stain
I resist hearing the sound of rain
just grab my gun
and bring in the cat
before she gets close enough to harm me
I stand mome with mimsy sword in hand
against the fabled frumious Jabberwock
with jaws that bite and claws that catch

the men who know me
just want me to get laid
“it’s just one more pussy vacation
to notch on the headboard”
but I’ve been down this road
chipped so beaverly into the wood
that it fears collapse if I orgasm again
and new ports match old harbors
I don’t care where I drop anchor
because no storm yet has sunk me
she’s merely a summer squall
shimmying the jibs and fluttering books on deck
but the crew is sleeping drunk down below
oblivious to the winds stirring the soup outside
she wants to swamp the boat
but her crests fall below the gunwale

I should sleep through her winds and waves
remember her as a crossed-off calendar date
but she scarred me in a moment
somehow, somewhere, some when
so that my fiction-focused protagonist
fills in the potentials of how and why
I’m unable to withdraw my rearguard
trapped Slaughterhouse-style
on her Vietnamese hillocks
Tễt transfigures into Groundhog Day
whenever she walks into my room

this divot forged a new history
once the flesh that filled it
departed my skin for an undiscovered country
but its secession stares back
a perpetual absent passenger reminding me
how adults can be broken
by their own childish naïveté
reminded with every wayward glance
every new “hello”
and every “good to see you again”
how she marked me the same
although the evidence lurks beneath skin
I can still see her with these eyes
and gritted teeth
I yearn for a plastic surgeon who can fix me
restore me to the way I should be
before I met her
made the mistake of loving her for a moment
longer than I should have
but enough to mark me with the reminder
of how the absence of her
will ride shotgun into my last decade
separated only when my final campfire
frees my visage from this flesh frame
and converts Earthbound skin and bone
into the ash of a million gray angels