One and the Same

I am watching this life behind many eyes
I am passing through many different minds

I see, hear, sense but can not touch you
If I had the strength to wish upon a star I’d be a God but that is no longer a possibility in these impenetrable days of waste and nights of lost prayer.
I am no longer willing to fall upon my own sword or lend you the determination to shirk the responsibility you owe so faultlessly to yourself.

I am no one’s kindred spirit
My inner children refuse to speak to me
Future Gospels the same as ancient days.

I am a remote viewer, remote lover, remote sage
I am the refuse you refuse to accept before turning the page
I am the amusement park closed down over a thousand years ago out of pure spite.

I was in Vegas
Took Communion
The Priest an Indian Giver who demanded I return the Host.

Charlie
May 9, 2009

Days On End

I can feel poetry flowing through my veins.
I’m not The Terminator.
Can decide for myself what crimes to commit or not to commit.
I’m not a serial typist.

When we forged our deal we were supposedly in love.
A deal requiring us to be honest and trustworthy.
Did either one of us really have the wherewithal to make such a deal?
When the going got rough why did we so callously throw our love out the window?

Say what you will you still went back on your word while I left too much to chance when swallowing my words for naught.
I believe we were complicit for not spending enough time going out of our minds.
I believe we committed the perfect crime by allowing the passage of time to pass judgment on our desires and our passions.

I can feel providence flowing throughout my body.
I’m not The Second Coming.
Can’t decide which pair of pants to wear or why it’s so important to even wear pants.
I am complicating things again by pretending things are in fact complicated.

Charlie
May 1, 2009

Fits & Starts

I am watching a story
This story is my life
The beginning and ending
Are secrets in my heart.

I am not telling you anything you don’t already know
Not spilling any deep seeded secrets or revealing any long
Forgotten truths. I’m not a harbinger nor am I a perfect storm.

Everything takes place in fits and starts
My birth was like this and so will be my death
You don’t remember but it only happened yesterday
You were born a smooth artifact and will pass away just the same.

I am viewing a picture show
This show another Power Point Presentation
The Alpha and Omega are tragedies and comedies alike.

You are nothing I haven’t experienced before
You’re nothing new and still you make everything feel new
You are a positive flowing influence and a purring pussy cat.

My dreams take place in fits and starts
My dreams a dwarf donning clown makeup and smoking a cig
My dreams a Bruce Davidson photograph come to life
You don’t remember, but I was there when you were created
I was the one with all the bad intel but with a heart of pure gold.

I was the one burning to tell you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God.

Charles Cicirella
April 24, 2009

NEW POEMS

GHOSTS 2008

(for Jim Volk & Albert Ayler)

Angels speak to us through your otherworldly music. Otherworldly not just another catch phrase when it catches us off guard and do you remember Irv’s Deli on Coventry? Of course you do. Of course that which occurs today could very well go unrealized tomorrow. When I finally got around to calling, her number had been disconnected and she had flown the coop like some cooing pigeon or restless terrorist. I’m not kidding. The last time I told a joke her mid section was still taut and my loneliness did not roar so loudly in my Bedouin ears. When we are alone in your upstairs studio I don’t need to make sense of anything because it all comes through so effortlessly and I prefer to forget everything including my own name as we float together down a translucent staircase. I desired a breakthrough I could call my very own, something that aligned itself with the Sun and did not treat Icarus so shabbily. I wanted to believe in something before it was too late and all the night-owl-worms recognized their alibis as worthless currency. What else can or should be done as this civilization does a belly flop into a Beverly Hills swimming pool drained of H2O over two thousand years ago. Rome still smolders as America gets its clock cleaned by the Chinese and what can any of us really expect when a sense of entitlement gets the best of us with every secondhand breath we take. I’m not a lover or a fighter. I’m not a romantic or a recluse. I’m not a Christian nor am I a very good Jew. I am a ghost haunting a doppelganger writing something possibly resembling poetry and you are a mystic very few will ever truly understand because the doctors prescribing all the really good medicine have lost their nerve and their prescription pads.

Charles Cicirella
Saturday, December 13, 2008 3:40 PM

Desert

(for Lori)

I was born in the desert.
Everyday I wake up in the desert.
I’ve only ever felt at peace in the desert.

Walking through the desert like walking through a field of mirrors.
Your mind plays tricks on you when you are in the desert.
Signs all around you when you are hitching through a dark desert night.

I remember the fish sandwich I paid for with the last three dollars to my name.
The rest area I stayed in for nearly three days before being rousted by the cops.
Thomas Merton befriending me and how writing shielded me from the cold.

I look into your answers and all I hear is the desert calling across long distances.
The Church a sanctuary for sinners, the desert a sanctuary for murderers and romantics.
I try to tell you some truth but it all comes out wrong because the suburbs kill.

You were born in the desert.
Everyday you go to sleep dreaming of the desert.
The only place you feel safe is in the desert.

Charlie
Friday, December 05, 2008 2:18 AM

Savior’s Tears

Standing in the rain
It’s cold
I am scared

Wind keeps me company
Cuts through my malaise
I wish I was stoned

Mother Nature answered my personal ad
I couldn’t believe my luck
I am busted and I have been blessed

Savior’s tears cover me like choice cuts of aged beef
You know there was a time I wouldn’t have understood
I am humorless

Praying in the snow
It’s freezing
I am happy

Charlie
Friday, December 05, 2008 1:50 AM

The Constitution of the World

The Bible a diving manual.
Dead Sea Scrolls a key and a divinity rod.
Our minds bigger than this world.

Do you remember when you were a child and nothing appeared out of reach?
Can you recall the first time you came face to face with your limitations?
The grave one more starting pistol like the womb and an open heart.

The Constitution of the World something that must be reckoned with before you can go the distance through desert, ocean and holy space.
The Constitution of the World never reveals its secrets until a trust has been reworked and the last sacrifice becomes the first in a series of cataclysmic events.
A constitution of words haunts mankind like a ghostly martyr in a wilderness of defiance.

The Bible a bridge to this world and the next.
Dead Sea Scrolls a life raft willing and able to rescue us once we’re ready to ask for help.
Our minds far larger than you can imagine once your imaginings are set ablaze.

Charles Cicirella
November 27, 2008 4:43 PM

I Will Find The Words

Start walking
Don’t ever stop
Glory our destiny.

Don’t wanna believe in genocide
But I know it’s with us everyday
Because in some people’s hearts
There is a darkness that wont go away.

I will find the words even though it’s too late for us
Finding the words both a blessing and a curse
Running out of breaks far more serious than running out of money.

Shadow governments will never eradicate the will of the people
A good breakfast the most important meal of the day
Don’t forget to brush your teeth and make your bed.

Here we go again
Don’t ever stop believing
You have been chosen.

Charles Cicirella
November 27, 2008 1:45 AM

I KNOW

(for Lori)

I know pretending will not last forever
I know eating a lion is not all it’s cracked up to be
I know when the snow arrives it’s only temporary.

I’m not convinced I have ever really been in love
I’m not entirely certain I’m really that good a man
I’m not sure being a romantic is all that romantic.

Perhaps I’m more scapegoat than lamb
Perhaps I’m more bronze than nickel
Perhaps I’m not all that idealistic.

My wherewithal got up and went
My willpower willed out of existence by an unwillingness to adapt
My gut instincts ended up in the gutter next to my whitewashed dreams.

Still I possess something resembling hope
Still I believe in something or someone that still believes in me
In the still of the night our shadows converge in a back alley of our own creation.

Charles Cicirella
November 24, 2008 11:36 PM

The United States Of Purple

It begins now
It begins today.

A change has come
A real leader to lead us
An honest to goodness statesman to show to us our better angels.

Racism has always been a non-starter
An ignorant means to no end whatsoever
A violent, vicious dark age now eclipsed by the audacity of hope.

Don’t be fooled by the naysayers
Led astray by the doom mongers
A united front replaces rhetoric with real love.

It begins today
It begins now.

A new President to lead the way
A new President to save America from itself
A new President to show the world how it’s done.

The United States of America like a turtle on its back
The United States of America like a fish drowning
The United States of America like a Confederate Soldier with Amnesia.

The United States of Purple a game changer
The United States of Purple a blossoming flower
The United States of Purple a personal, passionate choice.

Charles Eric Cicirella
November 5, 2008

Pouring Down Rain

(for Cary)

Grab compass, crucifix, crutch.
I’ve removed blindfold, billfold, alibi.
Turned up volume on treacherous smile.

We’re gonna burn as one next time around.
All the best knowledge mustn’t dissuade us.
I slipped on the ice and was taught a lesson.

Climb out of coffin, compact car, nuclear submarine.
I promise I’ll cease and desist from promoting a united front.
Turn up heat on everything you hold both sacred and profane.

Charles
October 26, 2008 9:19 PM

Now I'm A Crow

(for Lori)

Listen to her crying,
Crying for worms.
Her loving dysfunctional and
Severe; her loving keeps you
Guessing and praying.

We pray on our knees like dead soldiers
Propped up by some mad dictator.
We pray like hungry children craving cereal
And a parent’s serial knowhow.

I imagine climbing into each other’s skin,
A hobo suit like Manson talked about during
One of his many rants from a desert outpost
Where young women became his slave and
Young men turned into innocent bystanders.

Now I’m a white devil
Now I’m a prisoner
Now I’m a peasant
Now I’m a surgeon
Now I’m a rolling stone
Now I’m a traveling salesman
Now I’m a painting
Now I’m a pyramid
Now I’m a poem
Now I’m a black night
Now I’m a blank page

Listen to her crying for someone to fill her with love,
Someone who does not question who she is or why
Her arms have become black wings.

Charles
October 19, 2008 1:14 PM

We Gotta Move

We gotta move
No denying that

You are Chosen
You are Blessed
You are Beautiful

We gotta love
Yes, yes, yes

Give yourself a gift of life
Hand yourself over to the mystery
Passion swims throughout our DNA

White book etched in red
White book proves we’re not dead
Pages like leaves change colors in autumn.

Charles
October 15, 2008 8:02 PM
(for Lilac)

Communicating With Ghosts

My best friend a ghost
And I speak to him
With my mouth closed.

My best friend a cauldron
Of strangulated guitar chords
And dire circumstance.

I will never forget the first time
I met his inner voice and how
We collided like freight trains blinded by light.

There’s so much I wish I could tell him
So much that got lost in translation
My best friend a ghostly remembrance.

They say take the high road
They say the path of least resistance is a godsend
But they never tell you how outdated recovery can be.

Twelve steps to Jesus
Seven steps to Buddha
Three steps to the gutter.

I went on the road in a white van
Preached about Divine Providence
The whole time O.J. was on trial.

My best friend stayed behind
I knew he was jealous that I was capable of letting everything go
My best friend hung himself because it was the only mode of Communication he had left.

Charles
October 15, 2008 1:11 PM
(for Charles Wince & Jim Shepard)

Promised Land

(for Lilac)

You are a land promised.
A land I wish to visit again.
The voices I hear are not my own.

I remember driving you back at night.
Sitting in the car and listening to the frogs.
How waiting for you always filled me up.

You are a land of promise and prosperity.
A land small children laugh and play in.
The voices we hear are not in our own heads.

I see you from across the room.
Light falls around you like bayonets.
The stand we take must be our own.

Charlie
October 13, 2008 11:05 PM

MORE NEW POEMS

Desperado

there’s a poem being written in my head
wants to come out and play for keeps
wants to call you on the telephone

there’s a poem standing on a bridge
cool breeze delivering these words fresh
I’m not telling tales out of school

you’re an empress of the blues
knew it first time I tasted your cooking
you’re a master of blending and purring

there’s a poem being written in the cosmic traffic
chicken soup for the soul a big fat disingenuous lie
discovering a stranger in a strange land god medicine

I feel the blues everywhere I go
they stalk me like pillars of pepper & salt
there’s a poem being written in my blood

for you

Charlie October 11, 2008 3:39 PM
(for Val)

This, That and the Other Thing

Write you a poem
Right some self prescribed wrong
Glue the wings back on a butterfly.

I’m listening to Jim
I’m not obsessing
A golden rule still holds dominion.

We talked on the phone
The silence brought us closer together
So thankful you saved me from self-wreckage.

Caucasian White plays in my Grado Labs SR60 Cans
It’s like a dead angel kissing you when your heart is open
It’s like driving off the road toward oblivion or Columbus, Ohio.

Charlie
Thursday, October 9, 2008 12:04 PM
(for Val)

Space The Final Frontier

The sun a spaceship we enter and ride.
The moon a covered wagon
We sleep inside like drunk cattle.

When I dream I swear it’s not of you.
I dream only of strangers sleeping with strangers.

I wish I understood personal space
And why intimate encounters are too often
Devoid of prayer or solitude.

The sun a mother-ship we must learn to respect.
The moon an automobile in need of clean fuel.

Charlie
August 30, 2008

Revelatory

I’m a poet
I’m a Jew
Been writing this same poem for two thousand years

I was ignored
I was crucified
I was forgiven for someone else’s sins

I’m a romantic
I’m a cynic
Been complaining since before I was conceived

You are a princess
A refugee
Been planting the same seeds for twenty two years

You were placated
You were compensated
You were driven out of the garden for crimes you refused to commit

Together we are a dream come true
The monsters under the bunk beds gave up their ghosts when we United
Nightmares were less scary when we listened to each other with open Hearts.

Charlie July 24, 2008
For Lisa Lisa

NEW POEMS

Dust Up (1)

(for Jim LaClair)

Choking on the ashes of my dreams
They crucified a crow two thousand years ago
It was spoken and then it bled.
It was written and then it burned.

Does this civilization deserve any better than what it’s getting
When up is down and down is up and I really don’t feel like lying
Any longer about the state of things or why a fall from grace can be
So damn appealing.

She is gonna take a bite out of the big apple and I,
Well I feel like some kind of sewer rat hell bent on
Self discovery through the denial of One and maybe
The healing has begun or maybe just maybe we must
Wait patiently for another two thousand years but
I’ll tell you this; my Chosen status will sustain me for only so long.

Choking on the dust from dreams not yet dreamt
And I didn’t step out in front of that truck; no that would have been
A waste of both my time and my energy.

Charles Cicirella
May 15, 2008
12:20 PM

Dust Up (2)

(for Jim & Jacki LaClair)

Burn baby burn
Don’t forget nor forgive
Your origins and how far
You’ve come.

There was a burning bush
And water that was turned
Into wine and there is a Father,
And a Son and a Holy Ghost
And you needn’t ask any questions
Because the answers have all been
Vetted and shot into our veins like
Stardust.

You were there when the world began
A teacher teaching that a breath of life
Can and does make all of the difference
And you must meet your maker more than
Halfway if you really want to see a return
On your investment.

I remember falling in love for the first time
And how weightless she was; yes I recall
Holding her hand when romance was still in
Vogue and selling your soul was not so easily
done.

Learn baby learn
How worthwhile it is
To build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung.

Charles Cicirella
May 16, 2008
12:33 AM

Dust Up (3)

(for Lisa)

Fire not water next time
My dreams are coming back to haunt me
Telling me of things to come and how
We must be prepared to fight our stereotypes
And lay down our guns.

The writing has been on the wall since before many of us
Were born or for that matter born again and a child will
Lead us and maybe her name will be Joan or Mary or
Rose; all I know for sure the status quo and all of its excuses
Is not getting any easier to accept or ignore and at some point
A minority must raise its voice saying once and for all enough
Is enough; we’re not going to take it anymore.

I remember the very first time I ate crow and how it tasted
Nothing like chicken. I remember the first time I held you
In my arms and how it felt like for the first time in my life
I was doing something right.

Charles Cicirella
May 16, 2008
7:08 PM

Romance Not Ridicule This Time

(for Lisa)

Need to move on
Something I’ve never been very good at
Or quite understood.

Too often for me unrequited love
Is like a ghost beckoning me to the edge
And that time we were at Bob’s Big Boy
And I refused to smile what was I thinking
And why was it so hard for me to be human.

I know I need to stop thinking about you
But I wont do it, rather keep myself holed up
In this juke joint of spirit and unconditional surrender,
Rather travel on this highway of unperturbed silence
Where the hum of the Greyhound’s wheels puts me down
Like a rifle once welcomed Old Yeller to slumber.

Need to move on down the road apiece
Where the faces are not so easily reconciled
And the songs on the radio come gently into my mind
Like a cool hissing summer rain and our outlaw status
Ceases and desists from breaking our hearts again.

Charles Cicirella
May 17, 2008
11:47 PM

Rainbow Pie

(for Townes)

I write what I feel
Sometimes black
Other times white
Oftentimes in between.

How does it feel to be at the top of your game;
To be so high you don’t even know what low feels like
And you never entertain conspiracy theories because
The left has always let you down someway, somehow.

I write what I experience
Sometimes hard
Other times soft
Oftentimes in between.

And I remember when we were in the womb together
Getting all squishy as we hung out learning our trade
Never not once looking back; yes I recall how divided I was
When you were delivered first, knowing I would not see you again
For a very long time.

Are either one of us truly the Son of Man and does any of this
Even matter when we’re at opposite ends of the spectrum
And daydreaming is too often frowned upon.

I do not write slight of hand.

Charles Cicirella
May 18, 2008
12:32 PM

no distinction no nobility no romance

We’re mired in shit - kissed oblivion smack dab on the lips and all we got was tongue – I push everyone away and then I wonder why I am alone – another dead man – dead poet – dead Jew waltzing to his grave – his last stab at fame and homosapien ill advised fortune – I wanted needed to watch the puppy dog Asian girl hostess bump and grind as she seated me and knocked me out with her big eyes and bigger virtues – here we are waiting our turn – turn to burn beneath a disingenuous sun – a sun that knows no wrong only right only fortitude and what it means to go the distance but still come up short like some serial killer who is afraid to pull the trigger and take their first victim – we’re all victims aren’t we? each and every one of us out there on the fringes before being pulled back into the fold and shown just how badly we need to be accepted – need to be loved instead of abused and conditioned to only love those who kill us with diseased kindness and strangulated Cyclops parenting misadventures – I am not coming out to play – rather stay locked deep inside with my dog Bogie – Noodle – my cat Abby – Pookie – find some other way to survive – to make all the freckles on my skin disappear or finally reconnect making me invisible once and for all – make me imperfect in the eyes of the supposed beautiful people who only know how to judge and hate – I am looking for Kong or a Universal Mother something or someone that can and will erase all this envy and jealousy baking inside of me like lava or lactose – we’re mired in our own rainbow bliss if only we could give ourselves half a chance to do more than just recover – more than just live another day – another resounding triumph – another horn of plenty blown – another insignificant other given the slip in this or that departmentalized store of urban waste and pisspot renewal – performing with you was so great – watching you perform was so true – we lit Doowac on fire with our ancient notes and futuristic strokes – infamy is in our rifle scopes – we are not scapegoats – will never be the patsy for a shadow government to use up like tampons or tissue paper – when we pull the trigger – tighten the noose - everything will change for the better – self preservation has seen us through – no more self denial – Anne Frank wanted me to tell you she is sorry for leaving so soon

Doubting Thomas and the Electric Light

When the end of the world arrives it will be like nothing you could have ever possibly conceived of just like when the world first came into being and you were off some place doing something you refuse to admit to now. Bob came into town riding on the back of an ass or with some disingenuous medicine show - a troupe of snake oil salesmen who believe in the power of prayer like once you believed in Mother Goose and Father Night. And God said: 'Let there be light.' and Dylan walked out onto that stage because it was time for his chosen work to begin and for everything else to fall away like a snake's old skin or a child's perfect laughter. We begin in a disassociate state of 'Mama's in the fact'ry she ain't got no shoes daddy's in the alley he's lookin' for the fuse' and before you know it it's all over and that which was off the mark hits the bull’s-eye dead center and the guitar is your only lover now. When the end of the world comes up around the bend don't forget that the pistol is loaded and a game of solitaire is oftentimes more rewarding than Russian Roulette could ever hope to be.
Charles Cicirella Saturday, November 24, 2007

Self Portrait One & Two Front Covers

Self Portrait 2

Ocala National Forest

Followed yellow butterfly
Discovered Evolution and Thought.

Charlie
8/6/2007


Wakefulness

There’s no objectification
There is no reason
No longer divided
Ready to fall

Woke Up
Sleep uneventful
No tossing
Little turning

I want for her to twist me
Around her littlest finger
Look into my eyes with her
Passion and her violence

There will be an Exodus
Nothing to do but wait
And crumble.

Charlie
8/6/2007


3

Don’t take drugs
Don’t drink alcohol
Don’t have sex
Wasn’t breastfed
Lactose intolerant
Threw away all my yellowing piss stained underwear
Threw her away just because I can’t seem to get straight
I’m narrow
Not often open minded
Weighed 120 pounds for a long, long time now I weigh 140 soaking wet
I’m about 5’2 maybe 5’3 if I stand on my tiptoes
I don’t hit myself in the face as much as I use to
Maybe it’s the Lamictal maybe not
Still swear like a sailor
Still not working enough to stand on my own two feet
Still writing poetry.

Charlie
8.08.2007


Swanson Classics Mexican Style Fiesta

I miss the aluminum foil tray
Miss God tucking me in at night
Don't miss Pontius Pilate passing the buck
Miss being Jewish and praying to one God.

I don’t miss beating myself up like a piñata
Don’t miss the frustration of being told no
Don’t miss not eating and not drinking
Don’t miss not feeling and not thinking.

I wish I’d not used all of the sour cream
Wish I’d taken it slower and easier with you
Wish I’d been a nicer more respectful boyfriend
Wish I had learned to love you before it was too late.

Charlie 8/9/2007 11:31 AM


FATE

you say eternity
I say infinity
let's call the whole thing off

you say oblivion
I say oblivious
let's get it on

Don't stop!

Charlie 8-12


Gin Rummy

I saw
I felt
I know

This heat
This fire
Your warrior heart
Your burning sun

No one is holding out any longer
We were hostages until shooting
Ourselves in the head

I saw you as a child
Spied you as an adult
Hiding in plain view
Terrified of being found out

I want to wrestle both our demons
Until there’s nothing left but shiny stones
I want to learn to swim, meet a mermaid
And settle down for good.

Charlie
August 17, 2007


Do Unto Others

It’s time to unwrap the package
A gift of angels
The sacrifice of a pale white horse
Regression replaced by rebirth.

I thought she got my sense of humor
Until she became permanently angry
Over my refusal to support myself.

Went out today to deposit my paycheck
Was in a trance as I overheard other’s conversations
Left a waitress a four dollar tip on an eight dollar bill
It’s time to unwrap this package.

Charlie
August 21, 2007 5:11 PM


Discipline

Smell the coffee
Smell God
Smell God brewing the coffee

Smell bodies burning
Smell God
Smell God burning the bodies

Is there any real discipline?
Our dogma dogmatic
Instant karma suspect

When push absolutely comes to shove
Is it better to be a do-gooder or a
Do-nothing?

Smell the moonlight
Smell God
Smell God hiding in the moonlight

Charles
August 29, 2007 11:13 PM


Convergence

Three Monarch butterflies came to visit me today
I believe they are protector spirits and that they
Not only represent God but are God.

I feel safe when you’re around
More certain of why I am here.
When cradled in your arms I feel
Less likely or willing to give up
On myself.

One Monarch flew straight at me, then virtually out of nowhere
A second one appeared, both danced around me making me feel
Happy and free.

God blesses me
Made it crystal clear
I wouldn’t die with the rest of them
That I was here for the young hearts.

Charles
September 1, 2007 12:03 AM


Convergence 2

A convergence must happen within
Before we can look our DNA in the face
And dispel all this negative energy
Taking hold.

Charles
September 1, 2007 12:48 PM

Self Portrait 1

These poems are from a series of new poetry discs I'm working on entitled 'Self Portrait'. There are 7 CD's in all - ten poems on each disc.

1.

Took a walk around the block
Looked straight into the sun
Heat soaked into my skin.

Made eye contact with a dog
When I turned around it was still there
A woman chatted with her daughter.

A squirrel charged toward me
Bees buzzed like a symphony
A bird chirped hello.

Charlie
June 15, 2007


2.

Tell yourself a secret
Don’t tell anyone else
Seal your mouth shut
With black electrical tape,
Pretty flowers or a devilish
Grin.

Visit her when she’s gardening
Don’t wait till she’s in the hospital
And you can not find a place to park.

My story is not a tragic one though
Sometimes I like to pretend that it is
I told her I was a delicate flower and
She told me I was full of crap.

Tell yourself you only have 6 months
To live and see what, if any, response
This elicits from all the inner children
You refuse to speak to or support.

Charlie
June 17, 2007


Unclasped

No one owns your body
Not him
Only God
Only you

No one owns your mind
Not anyone
Not God
Not you

We are flying in the face of adversity
Clawing at the tiger’s striped skin
Staring in the face of a brimming volcano

No one can or should tell you what to do
Not him
Only God
Only you

No one controls your thoughts
Not anyone
Not God
Only you

Charlie for Joey 7/17/07 12:02 AM


Grounds

Drink the coffee
Goes right through
Too much sugar
Too much cream

Watch the news
Too much intolerance
Too many broken heads

Try to love you
End up alone
Try to love myself
End up loving somebody else

Alone too long
Selfish, stupid, a child
Wearing an adult’s skin
Alone for too long
My behavior insufferable
Praying for another type of sin

Drink the poison
Goes right down
Too many I told you so's
Too many daydreams

Charlie July 2007


Den

The lions aren’t hungry
I’ll surely be ripped to shreds
When they will be is anyone’s guess

I’m not a lion
Not even a wolf in sheep’s clothing
I once was a snake then I shed my skin

We aren’t here to fuss or fight
Aren’t here to be wrong or right
It’s pretty obvious if you just open your eyes

I’ve lost my appetite
I never cared much for apples or oranges
The fruit of knowledge an oxymoron

Come closer
Don’t worry I’m not going to kiss you
This time you wont get off that easy

The lions have gone south for the winter
Something about plummeting property values
I want to be cremated when I’m born again.

Charlie July 2007


needs and wants

I need to write another poem
About my ear and how it listens to the Earth
I need to say something I’ve not said before

I want to contact her
Stop confessing my sins
Just love her once and for all

Yes I am dissatisfied
Yes I question what went wrong
No I never had a master plan or hidden agenda

I need to decide once and for all if it's destiny I'm heading toward
I need to figure out how when I feel like I’m ruined if that is a strength or a weakness

Yes I very much want to live
Yes I very much need to give

Charlie July 2007


We must ready ourselves to fight

White snow turns black ash
White light turns black light
Bright day turns blackest night

We know black
We know white
We must diffuse the grey

We know life
We know death
Limbo must be erased

You are never out of your depth
No matter what you may condition yourself to believe
Hope does not lie dormant – fear a waste of time and energy

Time does not exist
We outlast past, present and future
There are no remedies until we fight

Snow turns to ash
Day turns into night
Sun protects us – moon deplores us

We know God
We know ourselves
Introduce yourself to possibility

Charlie July 2007


King of Kings

He was singing a song.
He was wearing a paper crown.

Charles
8/4/2007


Judas Saved Jesus From A Life of Perpetual Crime

No one was betrayed
No one was forsaken
No one sought refuge

No one died in vain.

Jesus Saved Judas From A Life of Perpetual Shame

No money changed hands
No blood on anyone’s hands

No shifting winds reclaimed any one Kingdom.

Charles
8/4/2007


A Pocketful of Posies

I like you like I like the sun
And I ain’t telling anyone
I like you like I like the flowers
No I ain’t telling anyone.

I believe in you like I believe in the Sacrifice
And I’m telling everyone
I believe in you like I believe in the Cross
Yes I’m telling everyone.

Charles
8/5/07