You Look Like A Slave

Tags

Interracialcouples, interracialrelationship, poetrycommunity, reallife, realpoetry, slave, Slavementality, Toxicrelationship, writetolive, youlooklikeaslave

If I told you that you look like a slave you’d think me offensive
but sadness droops down your face like the body has recognized
its youth will never return. Regret and dishonesty is a very heavy
feature to wear, so your face stretches farther from accountability

If your ears were not in his possession I’d tell you to run ‘til La Luna
de Dominicana caress your curves, make melodies with your laughter,
then build a nation with the force beating la tambora through your veins

But you don’t know better than being trapped
You’ve made a normality out of your captivity
Your bond to your owner is bondage in the end
Goddess of forests and islands in savage hands

When I first saw you, the splits in your hair told me this man don’t take care
of you. Honey, does he oil your scalp each night like your African Ancestors
did to worship their gods? Darling, does he kiss your flesh like the sun kiss the
Earth? Stopping only to move to another part begging for love. Sweetie, does he
know you need more love? In every crevasse of your smooth melanin skin? Bella,
does he make you moan so loud that the celestials hear and rejoice your purity?
Your natural form. Love. Mi’ja, does this man know how to love your black body
after taking all of your fruits? Una mujer elegante como tu. Una negra como tu.

Did you know a thriving line of your ancestry is annihilated each time you
bring this gringo with you? La Luz de mia, you’re a slave. Nobody knows
what hold he has on you. You refuse to know what curse this man is to you.

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Hymn Of The Sinner

Tags

christiancontent, crytogod, Personaladdictions, poetryaboutchristianity, poetryaboutgod, poetrycommunity, sentimentalwriting, Sinner, unfaithful, writingcommunity

Alas I sin
With this joy I sing—
The whispering in my Shadow’s inn

These “facts” and deeds, my constant yearn
Lay inside my veins, intensely earned:
A space to fill, instill with vain

Liquid so sweet, salt with brute
Lips of mango, among tropical fruit
Such pleasure often, I dabble in

I sing my hymn
Twas sung to Him:
The High of Seas, Thee sees all scenes

What if Jesus had called a legion of Angels to remove Him from the cross?

I lift and shout
With glories sprout.
I nod and praise, though raised with doubt

Perhaps, I’m a fool
The Satan’s tool—
The more, I wonder: am I of sin, am I A sin?

My flesh; such smell of swine’s curse
While in this casc’t, I land first…
Thy giveth me hope, but I tighten the rope

I stretch my mouth
I fist my chest—
Fighting the beast; upon the self, I feast

My whole is weak…
I ask not for strength.

@sircharlesthepoet

March 22nd, 2014

Tags

medicaldiscovery, medicalmiracles, mylife, mystory, tbi, traumaticbraininjury

Let me tell you a story I have never told anyone, anyone, ever in my life before. About a year after my car accident, my bestest friend in the whole wide world at that time got hit by a speeding car. Him, a few other friends, and I were skateboarding down a street going to wherever the wind takes us. I was halfway down the block, and he was ahead of me–crossing to the next block already. The light had just turned green for him, but as he was crossing, a taxi driver sped through the intersection and hit him dead on. All I saw was him tumbling on top of the car until he fell to the ground. We all immediately rushed to him. He was alive. It was difficult for him to get up, but he did. With shaky legs and our support, he walked to the sidewalk, and waited there until the ambulance came. He spent one night in the ER and was back in full motion the next day.

Some time after that incident, him and I discussed the difference between our outcomes: him, one night in the ER vs. me, 11 days in a coma, with 7 months in and out of the hospital. He looked at me, and told me that he saw the car right before it hit him. In the fraction of a second before the car hit him, he told me he did a quick hop! That hop, plus him being on a skateboard, gave him some elevation–which (he concluded) was enough to put him at a height where he just tumbled up the windshield to the top of the car. As opposed to me, who was on foot, probably didn’t even see the car coming, and was hit dead on. Just a few inches in height; 48% chance of living vs 100% chance of walking out the hospital the next day. Snake Eyes.

Just a few inches in height; 48% chance of living vs 100% chance of walking out the hospital the next day. Snake Eyes.

@sircharlesthepoet

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I’m a few days late :). It’s been a very busy week.

2020-11-24 – Another Blue Balloon — hands in the garden

Tags

imissyou, intotheair, longingfor, longingforyou, poetryblog, poetrycommunity

let another blueballoon go just to seewhere it wouldup and driftoff to, then i reached up foryou like you weren’talready part of anew family, my feet are blisterstones and all iwant is to bethe air wherever youbreathe itfree. Grumpy Gormanigram: https://www.instagram.com/gèèrumpygorm image adapted from artwork here –https://fineartamerica.com/featured/dandelion-blue-balloon-artmarketjapan.html

2020-11-24 – Another Blue Balloon — hands in the garden

Such a powerful piece. I definitely needed to share it!

Keiken Media

Tags

art, creativeendeavors, creativepursuits, creativity, digitalmedia, digitalmediacompany, digitalspace, keiken, keikenmedia, media, mediacompany

Hello everyone!

I hope you all are having a wonderful day and week! I haven’t been posting poetry this week because I’m actually working on a small poetry book/series. It’s going to be free so I hope to be able to share it with as many of you as possible. Comment if you would like to have a copy of the series.

Anyways, while surfing the internet–searching for what’s out there–I came across this company that caught my attention: Keiken. I thought the name was interesting. Looking more into the organization, I became captivated by the work that they do.

I’ve never written about other companies on my pages before, but after checking out their page and reading about what they do, I decided to support them more. Additionally, what they do is right up my alley: support people’s creative endeavors. I have a brief summary of them below. Please, CHECK THEM OUT!!! 😀

Keiken Media is a digital creative agency that specializes in building clients an online presence. The company has a proven portfolio of crafting logos, websites, and social media content strategies from scratch to increase brand interaction and recognition within a desired audience.

Keiken Media delivers photography, videography, and creative direction with technical knowledge on all production ventures. With the new shift in the world the company has adapted from creating in physical locations to managing creativity in the digital space.

Inspired by life in Osaka Japan, Keiken; meaning “one’s own experience”, is infused with the electrical energy of two of America’s greatest cultural hubs, New York City and Atlanta. The world traveling team can always make an impromptu office on the coast line which allows for tranquility and fluidity over everything they produce. 

Learn more about Keiken Media at Keikenmedia.org

Keiken Media does a broad range of things to support the creative community, and the environment. For the next few days, I will be posting more about them! Keep an eye out for that, and definitely check out Keikenmedia.org!

Carving You Be Like (Video)

Tags

artcelebration, artvideo, artwork, carvingyoubelike, fortheancestors, makingartwork, poetryvid, poetryvideo, youareart

So this girl came up to MY FACE and said, “Charles, write me a poem”. My first reaction was how(tf) do you know you’re a poem?! Granted, she was. Awww man she IS a poem! One that walks with grace and security–her steps so firm it could be traced back to the African Ancestors that still don’t know how to put their heads down and give up.
.
You must have some stainless audacity to ask me to turn you into a poem though, because how do you know you’re a poem? YOU ARE a poem, but how do you know? 🤔
.
If you listen very closely, you’ll hear my aunty in the background talking (screaming) on the phone. She is about three rooms away, and one of them is the living room. You see what I have to put up with when recording? 😭🤦🏾‍♂️🤦🏾‍♂️🤦🏾‍♂️

@sircharlesthepoet

Carving You Be Like… (part 3)

Tags

creativewriting, culture, lacultura, poem, poetry, poetrycommunity, spanishculture, writing, writingcommunity

Consuming you be like…
“¿¿¿CÓMO ESTÁÁÁSSS???”
And you know I’m here,
They know we’re here.
 
Your existence in the North,
My joking through the South
Our energy creates a balance. An importance that never misses out
Although, they all miss, when out.
 
There’s a unique experience we carry
That’s exclaimed into forms of incomprehensible beauty and art.
If you haven’t been through it,
You wouldn’t know.
If you haven’t traveled in-between worlds to exist in the between of worlds,
You can’t quite comprehend the existence of our Universe.
 
Consuming you be like
I could reach out and touch you:
Something delicate, yet not fragile.
 
Not too agile, but what’s a good story without Scars?
So, dime. Cómo estás?
Cuéntame tu historia

@sircharlesthepoet

Carving You Be Like… (Part 1)

Tags

fortheculture, immigrantstories, lacultura, spokenword, talkingculture

Writing poetry is strange
Because I’ll have to… 
And in-take you-in
 
With all your beauty stamped by a warning sign:
My smile is not a sign.
Your beauty is not an invite.
But the way you walk is a story. A fight. A flight.
Strength drawn from your spine.
 
And that of your mother
Your people. Mi gente.
La cultura.
 
A song that does not make sense to most
Yet, you play it so well.
Break norms and expectations with what you tell.
So we have reasons to judge and complain,
Perhaps drive you insane.
 
But, honestly, nothing about you is our business.

@sircharlesthepoet

Carving You Be Like…

Tags

culturalpoetry, fullpoem, immigrantstories, poetrycommunity, prosepoetry, readbodylanguage, readingpeople, writingmeditation

Writing poetry be like
*deep breath…
…slow exhale*
 
And I in-take you-in
 
All your possessions that you profess
Behind that nervous and reluctant smile of yours.
All your perspectives
On the prospective,
Whose lives you’ll change.
 
Rearrange. A deep quite strange.
 
Writing poetry is strange
Because I’ll have to
*deep breath…
…slow exhale*
 
And in-take you-in
 
With all your beauty stamped by a warning sign:
My smile is not a sign.
Your beauty is not an invite.
But the way you walk is a story. A fight. A flight.
Strength drawn from your spine.
 
And that of your mother
Your people. Mi gente.
La cultura.
 
A song that does not make sense to most
Yet, you play it so well.
Break norms and expectations with what you tell.
So we have reasons to judge and complain,
Perhaps drive you insane.
 
But, honestly, nothing about you is our business.
 
Carving poetry be like
*deep breath…
…slow exhale*
 
So, I turn the poem into a blooming being; a human being.
More truly, I carve the success story—your hidden trophy
Into poetry.
 
Read the message in your uneven smile;
Dark, slick hair running a mile
Read the story your eyes tell as it sparks, every once in a while,
Complementing bliss.
 
Sometimes, the poem writes itself.
 
So, one must be patient enough; open enough
To read it.
Sunlight takes its sweet, slow time to reach the Earth.
Then to reach you.
 
But when it does,
Gosh, is she a sight to see! A light to consume. A brilliance to erupt.
A human being; a journey; a story; bittersweet Poetry.
 
Consuming you be like,
*deep breath…
…slow exhale*
*bright smile*
“¿¿¿CÓMO ESTÁÁÁSSS???”
And you know I’m here,
They know we’re here.
 
Your existence in the North,
My joking through the South
Our energy creates a balance. An importance that never misses out
Although, they all miss, when out.
 
There’s a unique experience we carry
That’s exclaimed into forms of incomprehensible beauty and art.
If you haven’t been through it,
You wouldn’t know.
If you haven’t traveled in-between worlds to exist in the between of worlds,
You can’t quite comprehend the existence of our Universe.
 
Consuming you be like
I could reach out and touch you:
Something delicate, yet not fragile.
 
Not too agile, but what’s a good story without Scars?
So, dime. Cómo estás?
Cuéntame tu historia

Carving you be like,
*deep breath…
…slow exhale*
 
Maybe, I can just put you through a machine
And your poetry blurts out. On the other side
 
But someone said something about
Authenticity.
Copying your story is not so easy
Putting you to words is not so simple
 
Unless, machines could consume you like
*deep breath…
…slow exhale*
 
Gather the story of suns and universes.
Access your complexity and simplicity.
 
I could just put you through a machine;
Blurt out your poetry!
But it’s not so easy.
Not with authentic artistry.
Beauty carved by history.
Meditation of poetry.

@sircharlesthepoet

Inventions And Desires (part 4)

Tags

art, artist, losingmymind, lostmymind, poetrycommunity, reasonstolove, writingcommunity

You’re a beauty in written and photography.
 
After many pictures out in the open
I’ve come to realize that you know the sun thinks so
Too.
 
Everything about you is nothing short of natural.
A Natural Miracle.
 
Maybe nature does know what love is
Maybe there’s something about it that we are all addicted to
Maybe we love not knowing about love
Maybe we want to fall for an idea. A piece of imagination.
 
Maybe this poem has derailed. Like my mind does, each time I see a picture
Of you.

@sircharlesthepoet

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May you always find a reason to love ❤