The Uber-friend Buzz: Christopher Reilley

Did you know that poets don’t actually write with feathery quills anymore?  There goes the prose neighbourhood, right?  Truthfully, I don’t know much about poetry, nor do I appreciate it for the genuine and imaginative self-expression of the senses that it is.  Generally, I’m either in awe of poets or I mock them.

Christopher Reilley has grabbed my full attention of awe—mostly because he graduated from the Ringling Brothers Clown College in 1984—but also because he has a vividly wide repertoire of writing that is boundless, and also because he reads the encyclopaedia for fun.  In his writing, Reilley has something for everyone.  He’s eclectic, entertaining, family-oriented and refreshingly honest.  He doesn’t give “a big fat hairy damn about an awful lot of things,” especially your Facebook farm, fish, park or mafia.  Refreshing, right?

His poetry grabs you.  It punches you in the face—but only if he wants it to.  He is the Chuck Norris of the poetry world.  His words are woven with homage to a man who is a visionary of thought and who is rich in gifted expression.  His dedication as an author keeps him travelling a 300 mile radius around Boston for speaking engagements and readings—and of course he’s in demand.  Why wouldn’t he be?  He’s the author of “Grief Tattoos,” poems of rage and redemption, and also the up-coming e-book, “Slippery Friction,” a collection of erotic and love poems.  Join his FB fan page here and see what I’m talking about—or check out his blog here.

Not only is Reilley a talented writer, he’s also an illustrator, digital artist, print expert, gaming-geek, father, husband, and self-proclaimed BAD saxophone player—although I couldn’t find a YouTube channel with recordings to verify just how BAD he might be. 

After spending some time immersed in this poetry world of his, I was officially inspired to dabble anew.  Reilley, this one’s for you.

The Christopher Reilley Lim’rick

There once was a poet name Reilley,
Who embroiders his feelings not shyly.
He’s a goofball at heart,
An aficionado of art,
And his poems will make you all smiley.


Now you understand the whole mock-and-awe philosophy I have.  I’m mock—Reilley’s all awe.


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