poems and writings by Charlie weeks
Another global warming weekend,
It’s like nature’s drunk
And we’re about to face
The hangover tomorrow.
Cutting off castaway prayers
Sticking with failed experiments
To everyone else’s detriment
Shivering insufferable silence
Playing to promised exuberance
Outsized for shatterproof needs
Maximizing whatever’s left to grind
Lying so bad you turn to thoughtless acts
Adhering to honesty’s pain dead on arrival
Recreating inevitable dread’s dogmatic habits
Inflicting complaint’s scenery dosing fallacies
For truth sorting hair trigger chewing the angst
Riding on obtuse uses mired in confused depths
Going along for the ride in an ultimate collision
With pre-apocalyptic phases designed to die for
A pill affords a straitjacket
Crunched and snorted for you
To great effect while wrestling
Down modes of raw affect
Trivializing moods’ contention
That suddenly struck old molds
Dimming the blinds’ illumination
Short-changed by the comedy
Never present but canned
Long after hibernation ceases
In a proper bed strapped down
Jolts to shock till homogenization
A cat calling eccentric repeats
Via denied epiphanies shy movement
Of a grandiose means representing
Status symbols’ ubiquitous quality
Squeezing out absorbed restrictions
Seeking empathy with a kind mind
Nestled in consolidation pudding
Leaving byproducts in good company
Ditches as sneaky beach movements
Bother accentuated rustic assimilation
While wiping off dust from his clothes
Dripping cold sweat yet still in vogue
Enticing provocative entrees of illusion
Ripe for civil cordiality solving citizenry
Composted combustible absurdity
Opting to still buy a custom wardrobe
Branded batches of sand still thinking
Appearance mattered in the game
The mad rabbit can’t stand
The demand of emptiness
Remaining from the answerless
Cajole of friends not knowing
When to end the revitalized
Wholesale messaging left
Feeding into his obsession
In finding that last call
For meaningless consolation
Paranoia’s pall predates fate
Poking holes through you
To tear you apart easier
Presuming insight
Was found in gut answers
Misguiding wholesomeness
Living life like a bad actor
Tainting the entire practice
While staying out of practice
With nothing left to gain
While there’s still something
Left out there in model remains.
Self-perpetuating isolation
Deprived of sober self-awareness
He periodically feared to have lost
As the perpetual outsider stalked
Semi-frequent loneliness still degrading
Slow blurs in time fading consternation
While trapped in regressive tropes
Avoidant distastes remaining at rebirth
Questioning if the hurt will go away
Unexpected parallels
Of mind numbing
thoughts
Clipped from meaning
With supreme beings open
To obscene gestures
From TV screens seen
On subway platforms
Never lacking in jesters.
How long till the lights go out?
Scaling my bedroom
From here to Broadway
Secrets are muttered
With unexpected nuance
Provoking subcultural flairs
Built for a riot of some sort
All contained in niche markets
Fanning the flames
Towards the abused spectators
A blurred sequence of images
Relate remnants of disbelief
From captivating nightmares
To be continued in waking hours
When you’re lost and old.
Ruminating in the cold
Deflating bold proclamations
Sold as an imitation brand
Contaminated by thinking
Going off habitual tangents
Content in re-litigating static
Descending a rabbit hole
Promising insight away
From the sky’s light
Another fool sacrificing
Days taken for granted
Retreating into an endless night
Stacks of books crept up higher
As the words turned unfamiliar
Each moment I looked away
To write and act with insight
Burst my pen checking my vitals
So I can gain some recognition
Out of life to figure what’s wrong
Freedom costs the agony
Atop a lonesome willow tree
Fraught with sacrificial blessings
Pleased from constant guessing
That set out to teach another lesson
Where shrill voices grow lost
As misused unease roams free
Perpetual journeys go adrift
In a breeze that keeps petrified
Another round of your pet disease
Sudden breaks taken
In the lakeside reflection
Tossing away an old face
Filled with contrarian makeup
For practical reconfigurations
Padding perceptive provocateurs
Realigning fines after the crime
Combining alternative delineations
Across circular finishing lines
Consistently changing your destination
Flailing to the sounds of that stupid mantra
Sticking around for a failed experiment
Glamorizing self-help universality
From an Intuitively correct sounding
Best selling book in antiquated papers
Delivering black and white crazes
On cheap gray pages made for ripping
Another blip in the rough draft of history
The job was easy.
Re-enlisting night shifts
Where little tweaking
For involved devolution
Signing away his will
With goods soon viewed
As unnecessary
Imagination taking repositories
Hostage in rearranged bedrooms
Spied through foggy windows
Yet perspectives always change
Blurry pictures left for blame.
He was angry.
Intense coordinates received
Bums borrowed dollar notes
Watching Twilight Zone episodes
Streamed on their smartphones
In the bad old days of class hijinks.
Bound by prescription coverage
The sarcastic autodidact spent
His college days sorting papers
On free knowledge library shelves
Protected by plastic covers’ grease.
Swallow the pill.
My voodoo witchdoctor told me
With a Tallahassee College degree
Setting me up in my favorite state
Keeping in mind a certain trust
Behind the white curtains he wore
Chronic confusion as his favorite
State of mind to leave me in
Burnt out weekends passing
Through estate sales to kill
The demons, so he told me.
On point and out of place.
Stealing discounted items
Out of a dead man’s cigarette
Stained shagged rug covered
Burnt holes with duct tape
To keep up appearances
The bereaved had told me
They meant to color it in
With a matching marker
So shiny industrial greys
Appeared naturally seamless.
Too much pride to be mimed.
They wore dark sunglasses
Reflecting my face as I chatted
Soon escaping to an empty room
Not asking them for assistance
In finding certain traces
Thinking it was a timeless theft
I stole a clock from the bedroom
Since one could use more time
Figuring this one-time owner
Didn’t have any more use for it.
Nostalgic provocateur
Caught himself
Through fluctuations
Of endless adoration
That left him sore
From circular feelings
He mistook for reason
Striking his core
As the arrows
Casually secured him.