Chris Yokel is a freelance writer, independent musician, published poet, avid movie watcher, amateur photographer, voracious reader, music junkie, and connoisseur of chai tea. He holds his B.A. in Philosophy and his M.A. in English. You can read his various musings and keep up with his poetry and music at www.chrisyokel.com. Chris lives in Fall River, Massachusetts.
Where does our current trajectory of information overload lead us? “Choruses from ‘The Rock'” may a clue
Let us become masters through the gentle art of perseverance.
Recently I went through a bit of a creative lull. There was about a month or more where I didn’t come up with a guitar riff or write a poem. During the first week or so I wasn’t too bothered by this fact, as I’d gone through dry spells before. But when several weeks stretched […]
Christmas Tunes of Another Sort
In my personal quest to avoid becoming a musical Grinch, I’ve spent the past few years looking for solutions to the Christmas music predicament. Here are a few great albums that I’ve discovered…
Standing Stones II Like you might label peas, carrots, and beans freshly seeded in the rich brown earth to know the plant that springs up in its season, these standing stones denote the seed of man sown corruptible. Here Charles Gray was cast to earth, the dirt swept over, patted down. There Tillinghast, aged seven […]
Lately I have wondered whether, in our consumer-driven, individualistic society, taste hasn’t started to get the better of us.
The wall of stones marches on, straight as an arrow into the infinity of forest. It does not care for tree or trail, for it was here before their birth. It stands as a mark of Adam’s dominion flowing through New England farmers’ veins. Like human bulldozers they wrestled with stone to make an […]
The Still Point of a Turning World
The artist is one who must stand at the still point of a turning world and simply watch, and in watching, see.
I have come to untwist myself, to become unbent, to be alive and to groan, knowing that to groan is to hope for the end of the aching.
The “wisdom” of youth is exalted—and getting younger all the time.
“I tend to think of [the island] it as a symbolic microcosm of the world itself, and the struggles of life that we face.”
I used to feel like George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life, stuck in a crummy little town, bursting to get out and see the world.
Darkness and Redemption from “The Boss”
“Everything dies, baby that’s a fact, but maybe everything that dies someday comes back.”
And there in front of you, as you are whipped by the winds, is a window, framed softly by curtains, and inside is a light on a side table, and next to it a comfortable chair.
“Really? It’s just three lines. It’s a mere blip of words.”
The True Source of Inspiration
Where does an artist’s inspiration come from?
Much of pop culture’s art is simply on our level, pointing us to nowhere but our own surroundings and thus to nothing with perspective.
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