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Sircharlesthepoet

~ Poetry by Charles Joseph

Sircharlesthepoet

Tag Archives: writer’s

I MET RUPI KAUR!!!

12 Tuesday Nov 2019

Posted by sircharlesthepoet in poetry

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

creative writing, fame, poem, poet, poetry, rupi, rupi kaur, writer's, writing

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Tonight, like a regular Monday night, I pulled up at the Bowery Poetry Club to warm my soul with some Poetry. While observing the crowd, I saw her. Looking at her, I thought, “ummmmmm (x1000000), she looks familiar 🤔” then, “ummmmmm, she looks like Rupi Kaur”. I pondered on it some more then concluded, “naahhh, Rupi Kaur is taller than that”…but man, moments passed and I just couldn’t shake the thought. So I turned to the Bowery Poetry interns and manager, and whispered, “y’all, is that Rupi Kaur???” Confused, the manager responds, “nnoooo” with certainty. I replied, “but she looks sssssooooo much like Rupi!!” At that, he said, “well, go ask her, man”. So, collecting all the courage and strength in my youthful body, I pulled up on her with a, “hey, you look A LOT like Rupi Kaur”. At that, she replied with a smile, “I am Rupi Kaur.” I froze. Then exploded with, “omg! You’re Rupi Kaur!!! Wait, YOU DO KNOW YOU’RE RUPI KAUR, RIGHT?? Like you’re famous-famous!” Then I blabbered and fanboyed some more, and we took a quadrillion selfies!
.
Tis was a good night, y’all.

These City Boys

30 Saturday Jun 2018

Posted by sircharlesthepoet in poetry

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Tags

city, citylights, lifestyle, newyorkcity, NYC, poem, poetry, skyline, stars, wordpress, write, writer's, writing

Sometime, down the road in your life,
You’re going to meet another guy
A City Boy.
Then you’ll remember:

These City Boys!
They always tend to their phones
Face planted inside the screen
Like caring for a baby that screams
Asking for an endless attention

These City Boys!
They are never doing
“One thing”
Their full attention is never present.
It’s texting while “paying attention”
Working while watching a movie
Listening to music while…Just living!
So the radio in their head
Never. Turns. Off.

These City Boys!
Never have they never ever
Not take a breath at the stars.
They’re used to big lights on poles
On all streets.
As soon as the timing hand strikes six
There is no such thing as late night walk
Through sticks.
Have they ever tuned to the melodies
Of crickets before?

These City Boys!
So busy staying connected
That they all are wireless:
It’s Snapchat this
Facebook that,
Instagram now
Make time to tweet later
As heartfelt connections disappear further

These City Boys!
Would they please listen!
Lacking the most basic skills to navigate
A fluid conversation
Flowing observation
To what the partner might have truly mentioned

These City Boys!
Their sight of trees resides in public parks
That are rarely clean.
It’s only buildings here
Towers there
Skyscrapers everywhere!
So chins are raised to the heavens in awe
As the environment becomes non-existent

These City Boys.
They’re so Conserved…
But the ones who are free, damn are they infectious?!
A personality so contagious:
Like Gold dripping out of the mouth
Of a triumphant Elephant wearing the Divine crown.
Their freedom is treasure
Not of this world.
They are struck by that peaceful joy
And, it’s as if you were witnessing
The skyline of a million stars in your eyes

Except, it’s not stars.
It’s the City Lights.

IG: @Sircharlesthepoet

When I’m Gone

09 Tuesday Jan 2018

Posted by sircharlesthepoet in death, life

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

creative, death, gone, imagine, metaphor, poem, poetry, reminisce, thoughts, wordpresswrite, writer's

67552b2dab8d249f3be7364bbb45a06b--starry-night-sky-night-skies

As I die, I always wonder
If birds will pause their chatter
If singing will bow, in the shower
If spark is found somber.

Before my eyes close and I give in
To unknown and imagine,
I always wonder
If television will snail through dull scenes
If train will be. And its behavior not bothered.

As I lay in depth, I can’t help but ponder
If my bed will miss me when it’s time
If pillows will repeal masks, wear sackcloth’s in ash

Before I take my last breath, I question the ever
If eager, creative minds will hide and gnash
If fuss no longer must
If in memory, I will remain stronger
If factual stories will have me live forever.

IG: @Sircharlesthepoet

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