Renaissance Activists
_JPG.jpg)
Hello world... I'm Charlie Poet... God bless you all... Keep on truckin'...Up!...Up!...Up!...
Articles
Episode 33- Extra! Extra! Read All About It! CharliePoet.com is here!
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-33-extra-extra-read-all-about-it
Episode 32- Christian Pirates
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-32-charlie-poets-1st-podcast
Episode 31- I Don't Have To Be Nice To You
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/i-dont-have-to-be-nice-to-you
Episode 30- Hope, Sand, Oval
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-30-hope-sand-oval-by-charlie-poe
Episode 29- Fire Breathing Virus Dragons
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-29-fire-breathing-virus-dragons-
Episode 28- Holy War On The 4th Of July
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-28-holy-war-on-the-4th-of-july-b
Episode 27- O' Happy Day
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-27-o-happy-day-by-charlie-poet
Episode 26- Bluebird In The Roaring 2020's
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-26-bluebird-in-the-roaring-2020s
Episode 25- Witches At Paw Paw Lake
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-25-witches-at-paw-paw-lake-by-ch
Episode 24- In The Name Of Jesus
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-24-in-the-name-of-jesus-jesus-by
Episode 23- A True Gift From God
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/a-true-gift-from-god-by-charlie-poet
Episode 22- Together Towards Jesus
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-22-together-towards-jesus-by-cha
Episode 21- Unteachable Spirits
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-21-unteachable-spirits-by-charli
Episode 20- Poems And Che Lynn
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-20-poems-and-che-lynn-by-charlie
Episode 19- The World Is At A Crossroads
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-19-the-world-is-at-a-crossroads-
Episode 18- And Your Whole Life Will Change
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-18-and-your-whole-life-will-chan
Episode 17- The Best Is Yet To Come
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-17-the-best-is-yet-to-come-by-ch
Episode 16- I'm Taking You To Heaven
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/im-taking-you-to-heaven-by-charlie-poet
Episode 15- Jazz And The Truth
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-15-jazz-and-the-truth
Episode 14- It's About Control
Episode 13- Strong Delusion
Episode 12- The Cure
Episode 11- Blame The Witches, Not God
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/blame-the-witches-not-god
Episode 10- God Pulled Me Out Of That Stew
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-10-god-pulled-me-out-of-that-ste_1
Episode 9- Viruses Are Voodoo And E = TC2
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/virus-are-voodoo-and-e-tc2
Episode 8- It Was A Good Day
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/it-was-a-good-day-by-charlie-poet_3
Episode 7- Surrounded By A Coven
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-9-surrounded-by-a-coven-by-charl
Episode 6- Che Lynn Loves Charlie Poet
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-8-che-lynn-loves-charlie-poet
Episode 5- Don't Ignore The Writer
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/dont-ignore-the-writer-by-charlie-poet_1
Episode 4- God Is Real, The Bible Is Real, Jesus Is Real, Amen
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-4-god-is-real-the-bible-is-real-_1
Episode 3- Charlie's Poems And Che Lynn
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-3-charlies-poems-and-che-lynn
Episode 2- God Spoke To Me
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-2-god-spoke-to-me
Episode 1- How The Virus Lie Started
https://www.spreaker.com/user/14074616/episode-1-how-the-virus-lie-started
Charlie Poet's Podcasts
Poems
I wrote nearly all of my poems between the ages 16-21, (1990-1995). I did not know I was a Christian, yet. At age 17, I was shot in my ear for discovering God's #FlatEarth; and was suffering from amnesia, paranoia, and ptsd, without knowing it, while writing them.
My original, handwritten poems, were stolen, and burned, by witches, in New Orleans, in 2001. I hope you enjoy them. God bless you... -Charlie Poet.
Part 1 Lost Youth
Weight
Wait...
Enter
Enter the new world, child
for you will be buried in the future...
A vast cold place
a giant, hollow face
a colorful tongue
that eats it's food
with teeth for numbers
Enjoy a flower covered slumber
In a temple with birds
that have
radars for eyes
and bombs for legs
The clock in his stomach
tells time to the stars
so they know what they are
and who they are confusing
Miniature monsters
make the dead men
that float on the sea
finally sink
and breed
new bubbles to the suface
for the sun to pop.
as the giant apple tree
shits all summer
on the wet, stuck leaves
Welcome, welcome
Come in
A Poem For You
How can I write a poem for you
a pure and pretty poem for you
a "normal" collection of thoughts
expressed in beautiful
form--
about the world and it's
eternities
possibilities
and mysteries adorned
about man and his great travesties
Accomplishments and wars
his halos and horns
his crown of thorns
his soul, torn
with dark and light
wrong and right
pain and might
death and life
How can I write a poem for you
with my "strange" collection of thoughts
with no prosody or praise
or the will to change my. melancholy ways
all my own
all alone--
in my own form
Forlorn--
and adorned
how can I write a poem for you
a pure and pretty poem for you
Dead Stars Falling On Mice
You're like a bag of popcorn
you open up with fleas
you are dead stars falling on mice
you are rats eating disease
you are the end of a nightmare
tricking me with fun
you are the stairway to heaven
walking me downstairs
into the basement
trying to bury me
you are the one who doesn't
believe in me
you are the deciever
capturing me
locking me in your playground
so I wont leave
I am the one that stares at you
with my big brown eyes
trapped in your corner
hoping you will change
your mind
Crazyflower
Who are you, people of this world
and why are you stopping me
why wont you let me be me
let me be free
or let me plunge to my death
a broken sparrow
in the canyon of stolen dreams
let me be me
for I am the spirit
of a proud and golden bear
let me roam in the woods
and hunt in the streams
Let me be who I am
for I am what I am
a miraculous man, walking on land
let me be me, let me be free
for I am the spirit
of a galloping stallion
let me trample the hills
from sea to sea
Let me be me, let me follow my dreams
for I am the spirit
of the wizard of bees
let me buzz in gardens
eternally
Let me be me
for I am the spirit
of a smiling dragon
let me soar in this world
and paint the sky with my dreams
stop stopping me, stop stopping you
let you be you, let me be me
let me seek what I please
let me believe what I believe
let me go as I need
just let me be me
For i am the spirit of the wild
crazyflower,
that bloomed atop the magnolia tree
this morning
I am here but a short time
as you are
appreciate me
Or let me plunge to my death
people of this world
into what I must be
a broken dragon
Pummeling
into the endless abyss
of my demented
cemented dreams
The Child Confused
I remember my red wagon
the lemonade sale
"Five cents, five cents, get your lemonade!"
"Ding, ding! Ding, ding!"
goes the bell--
Quickly, it started to rain
the whole city went inside, except me
holding wet signs of five cents
staring at the inconsiderate rain
staring at the lemonade, the acid rain lemonade
I let it drain down the sewer
with the dirty leaves of the dirty city
I rolled my wagon, into the backyard
and sat under my tree, beholden to my tree...
I enter the kingdom of the worms
Frolicking in their garden
stretching on the soil, after rain
It must be nice for them,
to shimmy out of the earth--
I try to play, I try to dig too
I roll and wiggle in the mud
but they scurry, like ambushed soldiers
into their private underworld
and I sit back under my tree
beholden to my tree...
Whose leaves drip drops of rain on me
On Thanksgiving
When I cover my ears
I hear an earthquake in my head
The shuddering roar
Takes me out of a place
When I'm sad, or scared, or bored
I often cover my ears
And listen to the earthquake
With my eyes closed
and watch, joyfully
the end of the world
One day I opened them
and my whole family,
relatives and all
were staring at me, in shock, and awe
When I said I was listening
to the earthquake in my head
My mother smacked me
and we ate our turkey
And The Pain
I remember seeing my father
fight my mother
I remember it well
And often
It is a constant freak show scene
reeling out of control
on the corrupted side of my mind
I remember my father
And mother
they knew I was watching
they knew I was there
standing in the shadows
of the hallway
weak, compared to him
poor and angry I grew up
stranded in the echoes of the shatter
my little brother not yet
brave enough to watch
trying to catch the remnants
of a peaceful, childhood dream
myself watching the nightmare
of them, and hating them
for hurting my brother
my father, hurting my mother
myself completly numb
stuck in reality
with the sounds-
and the pain
Sophomore
I lost a shoe
running from the cops...
on the railroad tracks...
Somehow, I woke up this morning
It was 5:30
Still half drunk,
I had to get ready for school
undress and scrape off the
ripped, soaked clothes
from my shivering body
shower on
never enough pressure
ouch! I forgot about the bruises
all over my body
and broken eyeglasses--
No clean towels!
I shake myself dry like a dog
Where is everybody?
there is nothing at all to eat
Defeated-
I crawl back in bed,
I'm flunking out-
but I'm too ashamed to flirt
with her, the joy of my youth
I'm too weak to face the cold fog today
the muddy puddles, and long frozen grass
like soldiers, waiting my arrival
My Childhood Memories
Redeem to me
My childhood memories
give them back, I ask
There is darkness in my future
confusion in my past
Redeem to me
My childhood memories
I don't want to go forward
I'm not part of this herd
I need to go back
to see it again
if it ever was at all
To see me
And my family, happy
just once in my life
Please-- redeem to me
My childhood memories
Poemreader
Please don't read my poem
poemreader
please don't read my poem
you already know
what I have to say
so please don't read my poem
poemreader
Adrift, lost in the seas of the streets
A teenager sleeping in garages,
behind dumpsters
a kid with nowhere to go,
it's too cold
the land is frozen,
the lake is frozen
Time is cracking
the nuts of my soul
Who can feed me
when everyone is hungry
How can she save
her starving child
when her mind is caving in
How can a child re-cover
if he looks in the mirror
and his eyes are shaking
Is your mirror ignoring you
wishing you would go
are your ceiling's caving in, like mine
are there faces in your memories,
laughing at you-
mirror, mirror, on the wall
who's the most shameful of all
Is your shadow hiding, like mine
My eyes are closed, the pain is too great
So please read my poem,
poemreader
tell me what to say
I am adrift, lost in the streets
tell me where to go,
poemreader,
let me stay,
poemreader,
tell me what to say
Intense Dreams
Escalating intense dreams
of blueberries dipped in whip cream
and strawberries on light beams
lighting my intense dreams
Banana cream pies floating in the sky
luscious red tongues and lips
licking giant pies
Angels swimming
in waves of peace
Devils drowning
in pools of grease
Humans immune
to all disease
living forever
in my intense dreams
Candy striped women surrounding me
as honey drips down the trees
along with the bees
that fly me away from disease
and gardens of roses
that show all the poses
and tell me which way
the sun goes
and the sky is bright blue
with images of you
embraced within the clouds
and for centuries I stare
in the heated warm air
mesmerized,
by your cotton candy hair
The bellydancing gypsies
and ruby rock candies
and chocolate medallions
all dancing the mamba
where the air is of crystal
and we dance on the ocean
as the seahorses play in the show
Where golden yellow sunbeams
illuminate the ice cream
that we devour with scrumptous joy
And all my friends are there
shrinking and growing
and eating everything
as they fade along with the show
and my intense dream
Vanilla moonbeams
and apples in my head
and I wake up--
happy--
with the sun
glowing on my
Drooling, starving smile!
I was a hungry, hungry child
K
Let's ride horses
and jump through rings of fire
and gallop- in slow motion- to the palace
the horses are spotted purple
the pumpkins are day- glow yellow
and ghosts lead the way
we are flying and dreamy floating
we reach for the rabbit
and pick it off the ground
and give it to the princess
as a gift at the palace
and she covets the rabbit
and loves it's pink coat
and stripes of blue
At dinner we eat pineapples, and plums
bananas and pears
and peaches
and we drink wine of centuries old
when Jesus drank
and the bottle never ends
nor does the feast
and we lay in soft, forbidden passages
in the secret garden
the flute, the harp, and slow hollow drums
entertain our delighted ears
as we gallop on the horses
in the field of epiphany
where moons and stars
Jupiter and mars
float around in the bright orange sky
and yellow clouds
and fields of daisies are all around
We picnic by the river
the glowing red river
and the blue grass
and we look out over the abyss
and jump to the bottom
and swim in the river
and fish swim beside us
and lead us to a cave
and we are in caverns
where bats wearing sunglasses
drift sharply about and smile at us
like we are the sacrifice, in their ritual
We reach land in the tunnel
diamonds, gold medallions are shining
and a treasure chest of dreams fills our heads
we look through a curtain
and in the sky we see. black, magestic
floating fingers
telling us to follow, so we follow
and we drop
out of the sky
and land in an inferno
of burning souls and green eyed midget devils
with glowing, ivory white pitchforks
who begin telling us what to do
so we close our eyes
and open them
and a kaleidoscope of stars fill our vision
we pass the toy
to the unimaginative being
who looks for a moment
and passes it back,
and we float once again
The Fool in my Soul
There is a fool embedded in my soul
he sleeps with tigers
he roams with writers
He shows his name in alcohol
He shows his name in ganja
He is He
while I am me
but we both control my destiny
There is a fool embedded in my soul
he cries with Jesus
he tries to please us
He throws his love toward us
he adores us
He is He
while I am me
but we both control my will to be
There is a fool embedded in my soul
his joy is creating
his tool is dreaming
He shows his name in imagination
He knows that is my fascination
He is Her
while I am me
I love the fool that lives in me
the fool embedded in my soul
the fool in a bed in my soul
Autumn's Lie
The boat eschews above the
tainted, tortured waters
immune to all thoughts of sinking
"How long will you float, ocean misfit?
Where will you go?
What will your travels bring
but stories for back home?
how many years can you ignore
the inevitable
anchor?'
"Why do you insist on floating
the same old waters
don't you want to see
the end of the horizon?"
How can you be happy
tossed and controlled, tossed and controlled,
just to settle down?
Your soul is a ship!
you were born to find the hidden waters
so travel hard and fast
bare the fruits of being lost
bare the labors
I will travel to the Amazon
I will travel to Atlantis
I will hide in the Bermuda triangle
And conjure sea tales
For what is a hero
But the one who bares all odds
to save his kin
Or is the hero the one who
slowly sinks, like a boat with a hole
into laughing, waiting waters?
The Dreamer
Still a dreamer
The slave
steps to the edge of the pond
undresses
and walks into the slow, heavy, water
a different version of the sun
sits atop-
a green version
a reflection-
curing him from the great battles
of the hot farm
a winner
an earner,
of a shimmering, respectful
blanket of water to cool his soul
and help him recover
from the tiring hours
of working in the blistering sun
a grateful man
smiling
escaping, however brief
from the south
Poison in Grannies Tea
A lemon being squeezed
into a cup
makes a sound I don't want to describe
but it's almost like a clock stopping
and the graham crackers are delicious
but what time is it?
Oh, I really must say goodbye
For
and you can keep running
and dreaming,
searching, praying, seeking-
no matter what has happened
as you are now,
you can look at this world
and find something important to you
or at least
something important
for you to do, until tomorrow
and remember,
no matter how long you've wandered
naked and sick in the fields
the flowers will always love you
and the dream will still be sitting on it's throne
awaiting your capture
and your queen
will whisper
into the candle
until you come home
so don't give in
you may still have a long way to go
down a winding,
golden road
Thanks
So Rarely,
the faces I remember in my dreams
return from the past
and gaze,
at me, with curious eyes
One night in New Orleans
a dear friend of my youth
simply appeared
like a thief of time
a bowler striking ten stars
jarring my soul with pride,
and surprise
a memory, suddenly, alive
It was so good to see him
the man with the heart of gold
smiling at me
with his bride by my side
shaking off the dust
clouding my memory
reminding me of something
I thought I no longer had-
Pleasant thoughts
of back home