My Soxy Collection


, , , , , , , , , , ,

To my dear Sock Buddy,

I have the utmost respect for people who appreciate funky socks. Believe it or not, I actually do not own a single pair of black/white or single-colored socks. I started collecting funky socks (yes, I collect them and they’re called my “Soxy Collection”) towards the end of my senior year of high school. By my Sophomore year of college, I had quite the impressive collection of socks.

Sophomore year was also the hardest year for me in college. I was in and out of the hospital at least once a week, I ended up switching my major—which felt like giving up on my life’s dream that I had since childhood—I strongly considered dropping out of college, and I was in a losing fight with depression. I was fighting a monster that was not physical, yet, it was taking so much from me.

This story sounds a bit crazy whenever I tell it, but something that helped me through that hard time in my life were my socks. Every morning when I slide a sock onto my foot, I looked at the funky design, felt silly, blissful then I cracked a smile—despite what I was feeling or what I wasn’t looking forward to for the day. The socks played a crucial role in my mental stability back then, and they still do till this day.

I hope that, in your beautiful life, you always find bliss in the smallest things, in the most unreasonable things—no matter how people may judge you about it. I hope you’re able to find joy in the simplest things until that joy has a permanent place in your heart, being with you everywhere you go.




Indie Girl


, , , , , , , , ,

I have a soft side for Indie Girls.
Girls I’ll never get; girls there are no formulae to getting
I have an addiction with just spectating.
Knowing I cannot do anything, but never testing that theory

Sometimes I’d much rather look
with a virgin mind filled with possibilities, fantasies
than to try
then be left with a mind filled with regrets
and intellectual ways to improve next time

Ones that will probably, just as well, fail.

I constantly have this need: step into another’s world
and I have. But their similarities start to blend
until they all look the same
until I can predict the probabilities without delving,
I tell myself.

I have a keen attraction for pieces that do not fit; bodies that can flow with the current
but they just DON’T!
The Indie Girl steps me into another world, into her world
outside of this world (filled with commonalities, similarities, and coincidences)

I’ve always had a passion for adventure—although with fear
I’ve swarmed myself among creatures whose speech is unintelligible
I’ve been trapped in infinitely expanding forests, caves of no bottom
some, I was only able to escape by opening my eyes

The Indie Girl is an adventure waiting for an outburst
an estranged world in a society that has evolved to normalities and routines.
It’s a dare we all have the outburst for—though with fear
because comfortability is addicting so flux becomes threatening
It’s a love I want to get lost in.
but I guess I’ve gotten comfortable with my potential achievements and sins
So, instead, I spectate.

Click to support my art on Ko-fi!

Click to see more of my content!



, , , , , , , , , ,

a scene to relive my life
i am filled with regrets
as i imagine the potential possibilities
while my present has no flux

i sing, i rain
i whine, i design
i curse the earth
question common sense and sanity

my life is lived more in my imagination
where the wisdom that me, myself and i have discovered
paints everyone as the opposition

you will suffer if your consciousness affirms you’re meant to
the world will demolish into your haven if you know it is meant to be
you are, where you show the self it is meant to be

Click to support my art on Ko-fi!

Click to see more of my content!



, , , , , , , ,

Hello everyone!

I’ve decided to make the PDF copies of all the poetry books that I’ve published so far free for anyone to read/download. The link under this paragraph will take you directly to where my books can be accessed. I plan to keep this link active and only add to it as I complete more projects.

This second link is a master platform that has everything relating to “Sircharlesthepoet” on it. That includes links to all of my social media platforms, a link to where you can donate money to support me (if you feel moved to) AND MOST IMPORTANTLY the link where all of my books can be found:

Now, let’s talk money. You may be thinking that my art should be sold–and you’re right–but, honestly, I do not like taking people’s money. My biggest downfall as an artist is that I have a hard time putting a monetary value on my work. That does not mean my work is worthless–I have created priceless pieces–but, knowing the impact that my work can have on someone, it pains me severely to know that this person may miss out on that impact because of a price they did not want to commit to. At first thought, this is the most beautiful idea, but, at the end of the day, I need money to support my art goals, become a better artist, and to support my life as an artist.

My art will remain free for as long as I can sustain it. But, with that being said, if you ever have some extra change but you’re not quite centered on what to do with it, please consider donating it to me. If you ever feel a strong urge to support me financially–with whatever amount you may have (a dollar is a dream)–I now have a way for you to do so. There are three links below, PayPal, GoFundMe and Ko-fi, through which you can donate to me any amount that you please. PayPal requires an account (I believe) but GoFundMe and Ko-fi will work with your card. All of the money goes to a special bank account that I only withdraw from for art purposes. All of your money will go towards my art. I am committed to doing things such as taking art classes, learn new types of art, buy art materials, and whatever else it may be (like finally buying the WordPress domain to get rid of these pesky ads), to improve my work, and to deliver better content to you. This is very difficult and strange for me to do, but whatever you are able to give, I strongly appreciate your support.




Much love,

Charles “Sircharlesthepoet” Joseph

When You Run Your Life to Ruins


, , , , , , , , , ,

Inspired by: “The Ballad Of Cleopatra” by The Lumineers

Which choice leads to permanent fulfillment?
Which to an eternal inferno?
Which single decision will destine my life to ruins?

I wonder if Abby ever went on that road trip?
If the unavoidable ever rolled out of her path?
Reveal a road to fantasy, though normality—
Bypass health complications, pauses on life, medical visits;
Beautiful boys with flowers in their mouths, poison in their hearts

Perhaps Artiana has kids by now
By now, she’s probably risen a chateau of plants.
A forest in her backyard. A garden in her front lawn
Though you wouldn’t recognize the difference between the three

Very often, I wonder which motion will adjust the course of my life towards destruction
Sometimes, I wonder if I’ve already made that choice?
If my life sometimes feels like a déjà vu because in the last second between life and death,
You relive your life.

A part of me knows I’ve written this poem before. So I’ve always wondered
The story is usually written after it all has concluded
But what does it mean if I am sitting here, amidst the chaos
Scripting the events surrounding me?

So, is it true, then?
I’ve already walked the path of life, but it led to its own destruction?
But what was that Ultimate choice?

Life is a yarn of choices, a pile of possibilities, an Olympic “What If?”
But nothing saves you from the choice that runs you to ruins

Click to support my art on Ko-fi!

Click to see more of my content!

Regret My Happiness


, , , , , , , , , , , ,

I wish I had written more Happy Poems before, now
I’m begging myself to remember what happiness feels, like
A sentiment outside of this hollow ground

The decisions to surrender are some inevitable, causes
The pensive decompression in my chair to, happen
To be one of the many moments my eyes open

That’s when I regret a family that was never mine but always, false
Beliefs that brought me a happiness outside of, reality
Stepped in to reproach US: this normal is delusional

Whenever I wake up sad, I wish I could flip back through the, pages
Filled with poems archiving all my moments of, happiness
Is something I was too distracted to write about

Click to support my art on Ko-fi!

Click to see more of my content!

Awake In My Dream


, , , , , , , , , ,

In the name of sleep,
These dreams will be kept alive.
When the chase has halted,
Something wrong has arrived.

A waste!

But what else is to be done?

So pauses, but never stops.
Even when the light is red; the sign is an octagon.
Even when fear stands in the middle of this dark, lonely road

Hinged to this potential
Lost in this dream, I am.
But you will never catch me sleeping.


I’m always working on something.

Young Blood


, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A trick of blood trickling down my palms,
Give me your hands

Your soul strapped in the barrettes clipping your hair shut
It longs to scream, shout and fly with the clouds
But you won’t let it.

A sinister flower killing your light little by little
Surrender all of you, as you do every day,
And taste my blood; the soul of youth.
Retrieving the truth long lost in your soul

Let me bestow youth upon you.
Feel young once again so you’ll drown in your emotions
Jump to the clouds and land in a pool
Back first. While starring at the sky

Feel young, once again.
Taste my blood.
Then, honey, you’ll realize you’ve been living a lie
Because, tonight,
You are young.


Stay as young as possible for as long as possible.

So, This Is Goodbye :(


, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Say goodbye, my love.
My thoughts enraged
My feelings revolting
To escape in tears

Say goodbye, former partner.
Uncertain of my wants
Pushing you away
The farther you go
The harder I pull

Say goodbye, dear friend.
This termination is best
Though my heart won’t rest
A piece of you is needed in me

Say goodbye, my soul.
Before I survive your absence
I might in every sense
Lose myself first


Here’s a song I think of whenever I lose someone I once loved: Click here.

Rain Parade


, , , , , , , , , , ,

Cloudy skies
The sun dies

Gentle orchestra on my window
I have fallen far below

The moist, the tears
The parade in my ears

Are we finally sober?
Or are we sobbing?

Sliding down the glass
I swear, this is my last

Until the sun has risen
To silence my siren

This rain will drop
Sorrow won’t stop.


Click here for link to picture.