I look into the eyes she painted,
The eyes our creator created
Eyes of nausea
Eyes of peril
Eyes of violence
My lips sealed by the kiss of a blue butterfly
My nose smashed and repaired by a raging bull
She stands close by a white silhouette doing her best
To remind me we’re both human and wanting
The remains of another prescribed day
Looking at your yellow railroad warning us if we breathe in
The air around Tom Paine there will be nothing left but our
Imprint and impassioned souls
She’s not painting anything less than my real face
White shafts of paint and plaster shoot from my head like
Greek or Roman pillars and I’ll never forget the way her
Antiquity smelled like wildflowers
I study the remnants of a portrait she breaks down
With every fire stroke of her bewitched fairy tale
And I’m both horrified and elated
I’m still a young lion, a novice savage desiring
Sinew and space to consume or take sanctuary in.
Charles
June 10, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Extrapolation (Part Two)
I believe I have a greater purpose
I refuse to tell you what it is
The one & only time I talked about this
I was looked at like I was crazy
And I never want to feel that way again
Where there is life
There is hope
Someone once told me hope equates fear
I no longer choose to believe this
Fear equates fear
Out in Nevada at a rest area reading Thomas Merton
Waiting for God
I must motivate myself to act
Waiting on God
The drive & willfulness exists inside of me
God has always been right here
Charles June 5, 2007
I believe I have a greater purpose
I refuse to tell you what it is
The one & only time I talked about this
I was looked at like I was crazy
And I never want to feel that way again
Where there is life
There is hope
Someone once told me hope equates fear
I no longer choose to believe this
Fear equates fear
Out in Nevada at a rest area reading Thomas Merton
Waiting for God
I must motivate myself to act
Waiting on God
The drive & willfulness exists inside of me
God has always been right here
Charles June 5, 2007
BIRTH (Part One)
There is a poem fighting to get out
I feel it moving around
When it starts to scream and kick
I will attempt extracting it
I am not your father
I am no one’s father
What I write is often not
What I am feeling and still
I attempt wrestling
Supposed genius
From this starved,
Unyielding intellect
One word leads to the next
Haven’t I seen you here before
One line begets another
Didn’t we once attempt
To love each another
There is a person fighting to go in
I can feel him beneath the surface
It makes no difference how much you resist
He’ll scratch out your eyes before surrendering
To this endless diatribe
You are not my mother
You are no one’s mother
What I believe is not often
What I cop to and still
I’m praying for something
One poem possibly leads to the next
Haven’t we already played this out
One poem like a watchtower admits failure
Haven’t we seen better nights and days
One failed relationship will hardly end your life
Or so it would seem
Charles June 2, 2007
There is a poem fighting to get out
I feel it moving around
When it starts to scream and kick
I will attempt extracting it
I am not your father
I am no one’s father
What I write is often not
What I am feeling and still
I attempt wrestling
Supposed genius
From this starved,
Unyielding intellect
One word leads to the next
Haven’t I seen you here before
One line begets another
Didn’t we once attempt
To love each another
There is a person fighting to go in
I can feel him beneath the surface
It makes no difference how much you resist
He’ll scratch out your eyes before surrendering
To this endless diatribe
You are not my mother
You are no one’s mother
What I believe is not often
What I cop to and still
I’m praying for something
One poem possibly leads to the next
Haven’t we already played this out
One poem like a watchtower admits failure
Haven’t we seen better nights and days
One failed relationship will hardly end your life
Or so it would seem
Charles June 2, 2007
Template
Must swim out of here
Find some other place
Emptiness never ending
Loss of hope a cold chill
Did I make this bed of isolation
Construct it from childhood memory
Remember calling myself on the telephone
How I never picked up until the last ring
So self conscious as a kid
Before I began writing never felt comfortable in my own skin
Martyrdom created from ancestry and failed attempts at discovering peace
Both my inner and outer selves screaming for autonomy
Must light the fuse destroy this fortress of solitude
A kind and benevolent doctor prescribed poetry
Must get back in touch with synchronicity and sacred trust
Tell myself the secret withholding nothing not even reverie
The template of our lives forged in silver and gold
Blueprints checked and rechecked before granted wings
Read the syllabus convinced there was nothing left for me
How wrong I was as my beginning and ending became one.
Charles May 28, 2007
Must swim out of here
Find some other place
Emptiness never ending
Loss of hope a cold chill
Did I make this bed of isolation
Construct it from childhood memory
Remember calling myself on the telephone
How I never picked up until the last ring
So self conscious as a kid
Before I began writing never felt comfortable in my own skin
Martyrdom created from ancestry and failed attempts at discovering peace
Both my inner and outer selves screaming for autonomy
Must light the fuse destroy this fortress of solitude
A kind and benevolent doctor prescribed poetry
Must get back in touch with synchronicity and sacred trust
Tell myself the secret withholding nothing not even reverie
The template of our lives forged in silver and gold
Blueprints checked and rechecked before granted wings
Read the syllabus convinced there was nothing left for me
How wrong I was as my beginning and ending became one.
Charles May 28, 2007
Heat and Flame
Standing next to me
I feel her heat
Reminds me of summertime,
When I was a child
Before I was born
Standing next to me
I witness her flame
Reaching fever pitch
Revelatory in
Primal speech
There is another plane
Beyond borderline and
Graveyard, a smiling desert
Filled with living souls
And roving gamblers
Our existence the gift and the promise
Heat and flame directing us toward
Inner strength and declarations of
Independence.
Charles May 26, 2007
Standing next to me
I feel her heat
Reminds me of summertime,
When I was a child
Before I was born
Standing next to me
I witness her flame
Reaching fever pitch
Revelatory in
Primal speech
There is another plane
Beyond borderline and
Graveyard, a smiling desert
Filled with living souls
And roving gamblers
Our existence the gift and the promise
Heat and flame directing us toward
Inner strength and declarations of
Independence.
Charles May 26, 2007
Alphabet Oxygen Soup
words untie the noose
tell right from wrong
pull down the curtain
last longer than breath
We must fight sickness
ghosts in the machine
hopelessness
God killers
does your skeleton possess the key to the lock
walk through walls unscathed
believe in magic
understand we’ve been sent
not abandoned here
words tie everything together
are closer to me than my next of kin
I wore an oxygen mask for the first thirteen years of my life
then I sat down and began to write and have not once looked back.
Charles May 23, 2007
words untie the noose
tell right from wrong
pull down the curtain
last longer than breath
We must fight sickness
ghosts in the machine
hopelessness
God killers
does your skeleton possess the key to the lock
walk through walls unscathed
believe in magic
understand we’ve been sent
not abandoned here
words tie everything together
are closer to me than my next of kin
I wore an oxygen mask for the first thirteen years of my life
then I sat down and began to write and have not once looked back.
Charles May 23, 2007
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