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Sircharlesthepoet

~ Poetry by Charles Joseph

Sircharlesthepoet

Tag Archives: writingpoetry

gods of deceit

18 Monday Apr 2022

Posted by sircharlesthepoet in poem, poetry, writing

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

divinewriting, godsofdeceit, lifeofawriter, poem, poetry, poetrycommunity, worldofwriters, writersworld, writing, writingcommunity, writingpoetry

the truth in my writing is so sudden
the lie in my smile is so golden

the sun gives the paper a sniff of its blessings
illuminating writers as gods; wizards of words.

the words are not exactly
the letters are not really
the sentences are not certainly
what is being said.

scriptures glowing like gold on old parchment
with the wave of letters wiping the sermons out
of your consciousness and infusing it with spells

I’m a wizard. These words of god.

don’t trust our smile.
pain is a stain throughout our writing.
turning beauty into a thrilling madness;
extract aesthetic out of the destructions.

you’ll be moved;
you will need our suffering and stumbling.
all this gold in my smile

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The Canyon

11 Monday Apr 2022

Posted by sircharlesthepoet in journey, poetry

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Tags

creativewriting, Lifesjourney, montana, moutainousareas, naturepoem, peacefuljourney, poem, poemaboutnature, poetrycommunity, readapoem, thecanyon, Travelpoetry, writingpoetry

Montana.

the mountains watch from the edge of a journey
like religious statues waiting on
repeated praise and reminders from a lesser being

every morning it swallows us to an anxious path
through the shadows and silence
of its sometimes catastrophic, mesmerizing heaven

there’s no rescue because it’s only you amongst the intensity
held in a cold and suspenseful air
forcing you to face yourself, along with your failed intentions

the scenes repeat until they choose to reveal a destination
navigating between the footstools of entities
proceed with diligence until your arrival to a revelation

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Angel-Eye View (Video)

30 Sunday May 2021

Posted by sircharlesthepoet in Art, poem, poetry

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angeleyeview, artisticvideos, creativewriting, poem, poetry, poetryblog, poetrycommunity, writingcommunity, writingpoetry, youtubevideos

This poem is saying black people need to stop looking to God/religion to save them from racism. God is not going to save black people from the oppressive society and world they live in. Black people need to stop waiting on God to save them. Instead, black folks have to figure out their own ways to save themselves from this racist world. Therefore, black people have got to stop spending so much time and money in the church.

God works on a different time than humans. If we want change, we need to stop giving ourselves momentary gratification by praying and paying the church (then going back to our old ways). Invest in yourselves, invest in your black communities, invest in your black friends and family, not the church.

@sircharlesthepoet

I Wonder If Elijah McClain Had A Future (Video)

30 Friday Apr 2021

Posted by sircharlesthepoet in poem, poetry

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civilrights, creativewriting, Elijahmcclain, poem, poetrycommunity, poetryvideo, policeshooting, socialjustice, video, videocontent, writingpoetry, youtubevideo

Elijah Jovan McClain (February 25, 1996 – August 30, 2019) was a 23-year-old black massage therapist from Aurora, Colorado, who died after being placed in a chokehold by police and being sedated by paramedics. On August 24, 2019, an Aurora citizen reported to police that McClain was wearing a ski mask and looked “sketchy”, although the caller also indicated that he did not believe anyone was in danger, and that he believed McClain was unarmed. The three police officers who were involved in the incident, Nathan Woodyard, Jason Rosenblatt and Randy Roedema, said that their body cameras were knocked off during a struggle with McClain. McClain was forcibly held to the ground with his hands cuffed behind his back, after which an officer applied a chokehold and paramedics administered ketamine to McClain to sedate him. While being transported to the hospital McClain went into cardiac arrest. Three days after arriving at the hospital, he was declared brain dead, and was removed from life support on August 30. McClain’s autopsy was inconclusive.

@sircharlesthepoet

Friends, For That One Night

01 Monday Mar 2021

Posted by sircharlesthepoet in Art, poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

friendship, friendshipstories, guardianangel, importantrelationships, narrative, narrativepoetry, poetry, poetrycommunity, writingcommunity, writingpoetry

To: Faye, with love.

Her name was Faye
It means, I think,
Faerie.
In some language. Some dialect
Russian, I think.

When I first approached her
It was with, “doesn’t your name mean faerie?”

Her face exploded into fireworks—a shower of stars—as she told me,
“Yes! It means faerie! In Russian”,
I think she said.

She went on to telling me that how
I am the first person she’s ever met
Who knows this.
She said she knows me.
That how in every class, she’d see me
Responding to the teacher, always in glee
Never holding back my personality.

Like the brightest star in the sky

She was always there. While I was always me.
I’d play with the thought that
Maybe
Something for us was meant to be.
Each time she smiles was an ocean reflecting the day’s light
Her specs magnetized her eyes to becoming two moons.
Glancing over your spirit. Waiting. Observing.

I wanted to make her happy
But the problem is, she was already happy.
Whether because of him, external of him
Just around me.

But I guess that’s not really a problem?

We didn’t go through much together
But what we had held so much.
We went through so much, in one moment.
I’m talking: me cleaning up her vomit with my bare hands
Receiving drunk texts late in the night
When her friends abandoned her in the bar,
Lowering the bar.
Sitting in a library room, talking her through it
Until she let it all out
“Here, take my jacket.”
“It’s cold outside”
“You’re in no shape to drive”
“Spend the night”
Arms around my shoulders. Supporting her.
As we take the long walk, stumbling, to my on-campus apartment.

“You can take the bed,
I’ll sleep on the floor”

Wait what?! No!!

Are you sure?…

At one point in the night,
She told me I was the perfect friend.
The bestest friend
That how no quality of friendship surpasses what I had to offer

I wonder if she’s already forgotten me.
I wonder if she knows
Her existence has already been deleted
From my phone.
That because the last few times I had texted her,
The friendship wasn’t really there, anymore.
That maybe what we had didn’t want to overstay its welcome
So it left.

Someone said, in the Kingkiller Chronicle,
We know how the story will end.
It’s just the process. The path there. That keeps us engaged.

I knew nothing was going to come out of us.
I do a great job of burying myself in the moment,
But if I had taken my head out
Look to see what’s ahead—
I knew it wasn’t us.

My star shined bright in her universe, for that one night.
When she was needing someone to reach out to
So she messaged the last person she had texted—
Which I’m sure wasn’t me
But
In that one night, I was the brightest star in the sky.
So, of course, the messages followed the path to me.

A whole friendship
With not too many in-depth connections
No substantial intimacy
Built for that one moment. That one night.

I wonder if she still remembers
I wonder if the story is being told, in places only the wind knows.
If the establishment we had built. For only that one night.
Has been visited by her.
Since we’d continued down our separate paths.

@sircharlesthepoet


This is to the people who God brings into our life for a specific reason. May they continue down their path with prosperity, and love.

Carving You Be Like (part 2)

22 Tuesday Sep 2020

Posted by sircharlesthepoet in Art, poem, poetry

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Tags

beingpatient, bittersweetpoetry, bodylanguage, freeverse, originalpoetrycontent, thesuccessstory, writingpoetry

Carving poetry be like… 
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.

@sircharlesthepoet

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  • Losing My Immunity May 23, 2022
  • On The Ferry May 16, 2022
  • Conversations For Me (unfinished piece) May 9, 2022
  • Indie Girl (Video) May 2, 2022
  • Carry On April 25, 2022

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Welcome back!

  • Losing My Immunity May 23, 2022
  • On The Ferry May 16, 2022
  • Conversations For Me (unfinished piece) May 9, 2022
  • Indie Girl (Video) May 2, 2022
  • Carry On April 25, 2022

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