30 for 30 (Tides)

Down by the river

Just at the break of dawn

The grass has grown

The water is swamp

My youth is washed

Away

Somewhere

A long time ago

It was clearer still…

And the men go hunting

And time moves through my hands like sand

The physical and torn element

This is time

And I wonder about my place in it

And the women

Gather

And used to read

They said there was news shared

But in the world of men and giants and shadows

And ever changing fears

Months

Of cold Mondays

Where do you go

How have you grown?

Remember

Colette

Kathryn Hepburn

Zelda Fitzgerald

Mae West

Billie Holiday

So many more…

All of their shadows

In the water

Moving by

And by

how easy it would have been

To just sit

Quiet

And fit in the places made for them

I wonder what they thought

I wonder

What they wrote

I wonder

If you ever see them down by the river

Still

Making tides…

Woman

Woman of the earth

She comes out in the full moonlight

inside of the quiet

Her feelings like fingers dip into a little bit

Of everything

She runs they say

with the wild things

Ten thousand miles

Under the eye of the giants

She’s dived into the mouth of the volcano

Woman of the earth

See her under the weight of

Their poetry

Their weather

Their religion

Tangled up in star signs

Her roots spread deep

What have we done for her lately?

Everything we give her

Comes with a receipt

We’ve got her

Tangled up

Tangled up

In a card

In a headline

On a stage

In a bit

Overreacting

Like strings on a puppet

Where is she now?

I keep looking

She’s a woman

She’s a woman

You can’t label,categorize,

She’s a woman

I loved a woman

Love a woman

She’s a woman

And she’s damned if she doesn’t

She’s damned if she does

Woman of the earth

She runs

With the wild things

She rises with the moon

But what…

What have we done for you lately?

the blue cage 



I asked my grandmother 

About the war 

She told me that the year of the bomb

They named as many stars as they could 

And memorised them

So they could tell the difference 

The enemy and the war seemed very far away

While they collected stamps 

And learned to type and learned to sew

There was always  a fear of tommorow 

Later they hid behind fences on Sunday afternoons 

Falling in love 

While the world manufactured iron curtains to contain 

The human spirit 

Today,I woke up 

And our enemy’s don’t seem so far away 

Yet,we still fall in love 

Somewhere between the hours 

Of 12 and 2 am 

And while libraries burn 

And wars go on

And there’s fear of tommorow 

We kiss lips 

That taste like champagne 

My grandmother isn’t here anymore

But if she were 

She’d say 

“You remind me of someone I saw in a movie once!”

And if I asked her about all of this ‘fear’

She’d say  

“Whatever will be will be

The future is not ours to see

But 

The human spirit cannot be contained 

By walls,wars or fear 

We are stardust and earths crust 

We were born to create”

And if I asked her about the year of the bomb 

She’d say 

She learned to sew and play piano 

She kissed lips that tasted like champagne 

She fell in love.

(Click to see the spoken word of This)

Aug 15th lettres de guerre #5

Dearest -A

I read your letters
Don’t worry
It takes so long to get them out here
It’s a different feeling being this far out…almost difficult to believe that we are even at war…
But it is what it is…
I was thinking about
What you said about
J the other night
The world isn’t going to be this way
Forever,A
He’s innocent
And vulnerable
But it’s more than that
Like you said …
It’s a perspective of the world
And people
How you look at things
And interact with them

I don’t want him
To think he has to change because
Of someone picking him apart
I don’t want him to
Dismiss things
As “bad things just happen sometimes”
I want him to know
That his interaction and reaction mean something.
Especially his art.
It can go
Where a single person can’t.
Where we can’t
It’s an expression that is important

The world won’t be this way forever
Maybe there will be a day
Or a year
When we stop writing
When we stop painting
When we stop feeling
When we watch our brothers
Live in misery
Or die on their feet
And we will not be moved

But it’s not this day
Or this year
And that’s why I’m here
And
As long as
We look after our children
Like J,
Tomorrow won’t be that day either.

I’ll write soon
love, Charlie

Aug 12th. lettres de guerre #4

My , A
I don’t have but a few minutes..to get a line in..
But
I’m standing here on the deck
Somewhere off the coast of the Philippines …
I can see every star.
But you’re my north
Were I able,I’d reach out and pick the one that shines for you you’re looking at and ask it to shine a little brighter and let you know …Writing you.
Im here
I saw a comet,it was pulsating and bright and then it dropped
like your neckline …
I remember you,
I remember your lips …pulling mine…
I remember your accent gentle like the water…your hair like lavender
you
biting my shoulder and laughing ‘Sex on heels ‘
That’s what I called you…

I would that I could
Follow that comet to the edge of the Galaxy
Spelling sensual words
Along your waist…
Burning,layer by layer..
Down your inner thighs…

jusqu’à ce que je découvre chaque langue que vous chantez dans
(until I discover each language you sing in)

This is what the water’s made me…
And I miss you…

Love,Charlie.

June 17th. lettres de guerre #3

Dearest – A
I wonder if the military reads letters
Before they let them through?
I’ve always wondered that
Out here
You wouldn’t want a bad letter
But what would constitute a ‘bad’
Letter? Damned if I know….

When you’re young and just going in
You are told everything to expect and what to do
But out here….
You’re on your own
The guys
They talk a lot about their girls
About what they’re gonna do
When we get home
About fucking
Taking prostitutes in foreign cities
All the shit
But when it all comes down to the line
What you want
Is that last night back
Where I had you for a couple of hours
And we waited for morning
Close
That’s what we want
And we want this to be over
And we’re afraid of
What this will make us
What we’re becoming
What if I can’t be that close again?

And that line isn’t the heated battle
You’re a machine in that moment
The line
Is the nightmare of midnight in hell
Black as pitch
No sound
No sight
The air still as a plate
And you have no idea what the other guy is doing ….
All you have is a pulse
And a memory

Waters is younger than me
average guy like any of us
Always waiting for a moment to write
On a piece of paper
But he
got a letter from back home
Yesterday
His girls family
Their home was hit by a tornado
There were no survivors
I have no idea what came over him
He just started walking
Straight to the line
When Peterson jumped him and held him down -waters screaming and clawing at his face –
Every ounce of purpose was gone from that man…
We sent him back to psych…
I don’t know
I think we should probably not let letters through like that
I think
If we do
Please don’t let me know about it

I was just wondering ….

P.s
It’s midnight
I can’t say much of anything else
But I hope you are well
And
Thanks for writing…
I’ll send this through
If I don’t get another chance to write .
Yours. Always Charlie.