First Featured Event!

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Hey all!

It is with nothing but excitement, honor and great pleasure that I am saying to you: I WILL BE FEATURING AT MY FIRST POETRY EVENT!!!

The lovely people at Open Mic Renegades have invited me to be a featured poet at their event on January 11th, 2019! I always wanted to be a featured poet, but I never ever saw it happening so soon. Therefore this is a pretty meaningful opportunity for me!

For the event, I’ve prepared some of my favorite (and best) works–some about mass shootings, sexual assault and cultural appropriation. The most amazing thing about these pieces is that I’ve never publicized them before, so can I hear a, “NEW SHIITTT!!!”???

It would mean the entire world to me it you, reading this right now, could come the my first poetry event. And please if you will be in the New York City area, I really encourage you to come to the event, and bring some friends along. I will put all the information that you need below. Thank you very much for the support that I have received from you all, and I hope to see you there!

What: Featured poetry event with Open Mic Renegades

Where: Flower Power Coffee House NYC: 64-02 Myrtle Ave, Ridgewood, NY 11385

When: January 11th, 2019, 7:30 pm

Price: Free.99

 

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Jingle Bell

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Sand not born of land
Dust suspend without trust
Cause
Snow might have overran the wind
Or the wind has frozen to powder

Clouds blow
Clouds wave
Knaves dancing
Dances of the saved
The wind sings earnest lullabies

Winter is here
A wonderland
In the air.
The aches can mend
A few tears to spare.
Can’t you hear? The jingles are near.

IG: @Sircharlesthepoet

Mushroom

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As I settle into adulthood, I am realizing that I have less room to make mistakes. I am also realizing that instead of living in fear, I should have been more open to making mistakes, while taking as many risks as possible, when I was younger. Therefore, I wrote this poem to express my sentiments towards this realization. Thank you for watching and please comment your thoughts!

Spirit of the River

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Gather on the riverside,
The sand-less seashore
Escaping and rolling your fears away

Gather on the riverside,
And sit on the rocks.
Like a child sitting on the lap of her father;
His mother
“What’s your biggest fear?”
Hisses the Spirit of the River

I want to be remembered.
Like the mountain remembers every footstep along its spine
So I’m afraid.
That the wind will arrive, brush away the prints;
That humans,
Numerous as the rocks on a mountain
Will forget my effect.

The Absence

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Oh, how noise-free
Are the days of annoyance free

My hair no longer itches loudly
Like chewing sugar cane hungrily

The flies no longer have marching bands as they fly up.
Oh! Would you just shut up?!

The car engines no longer have furious discussions
As people in the city find themselves in the same situations

The trumpet is no longer capable of penetrating house walls
Like the screeching of teenagers after seeing sales in malls

The pillows are no longer broken in half like bread
And squeezed on ears like masks around your head

No more aggravating noises and ears claps shut.
Oh bless the day, when noise can just disappear.

IG: Sircharlesthepoet

Above the River

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Don’t listen to music when on the train.
You’ll find different conversations
Between the rails and humans
Or the silent angers,
Slight annoyance by others
That never escape the heart
Until the train escapes the tunnel
And light rushes in through the window,
Giving the rails much reasons to scandal
Rosetta Stone couldn’t understand them.
But they understood us
Leading our way through the serio-us
Escaping the hole of shadows with glee
Above rivers imitating the sea.
Then anger calms down to a blissful cheer
With the river humming, “Home is near”

IG: @Sircharlesthepoet

Common Beauty

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In perfect worlds of
Imperfect beings,
Explanations of common beauty
Is long lost
To the subconscious.
So the shape and sizes
Are taped as prizes.

Nature, at times,
Sneaks in,
Tricks sin,
Seeks through vein
Then, attraction is found
In the colors. Their brightness
In the unexplainable. Its art
In the different. Its authenticity

In a world of blinds crossing skies,
And the limped crossing rivers,
Very few take the time.
To see <
Converse ’till it’s late;

Ask clouds of their beauty:
Free falling; filling rivers

But those who do
Are blessed
With a third eye. So skin,
No longer,
Holds pockets-full of lust
It holds beauty: something to map the lost.

Clothes are no longer framed by Finance
To honor chance,
But are
Intertwined simply
Inter the simplicity
Of none other than artβ€”commonly viewed as beauty.

@sircharlesthepoet

I CREATED A YOUTUBE CHANNEL!!!

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Hey everyone!

I don’t have much to say, but I just wanted to stop by to say: I HAVE A YOUTUBE CHANNEL!!!

So one of the many goals that I had this summer was to perform more at poetry events. Not only that, but I also wanted to record my performances and upload them somewhere: YOUTUBE! So I created a Youtube Channel for my work!

Okay, let me give some fair warning. When it comes to media, the only thing worst than my knowledge on recording equipment is how to edit my videos. Haha. Therefore, I am recording with my phone and just posting it up on Youtube with no editing or anything. But things have been going well so far! If you have any advice on good recording equipments (cheap ones too because, you know…college student here) or ways to become a better Youtuber, let me know!!

That is all that I have to say today. The link to my most recent Youtube video is below. Besides that, check out my page for my other videos here, and LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!! Subscribe, like, comment, share with your friends and family (and enemies too).

Comment your thoughts on this post, please. Thank you! (I’m so excited!!!!!) πŸ˜€

Classies

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I never asked for the girls to snap my neck:
Why I never made it to class.
I never asked for the bus driver to be funny:
Why I always miss the stop at the student union.

Digging clouds to find my destiny,
Each hit, breaking a piece of different shape,
God never blessed my consistency.
Or was I in the lecture hall,
My head higher than the projector.
So it was hard to see

Maybe the optimist
(and I mean the proud)
Are begging for pity
In their rich successful laughters,
Fists bumping in the air
And voices penetrating
As if they’re the only ones there.

Learning math teaches
There’s a different way to solve every problem.
So you can get lifted, or settle with buzzed
Don’t know how, but this part of life is solemn.

The assignments mean our life is dueβ€”
Why they call it a deadline
We’ll be dead if we cross that line.
So we dance all near it
Then, entertainment down right before the second.
Not yours, but call it our lifestyle

IG: @Sircharlesthepoet