FORTUNE'S MINSTREL

poems and writings by Charlie weeks

[charliewykes]

causal connections

Ceding the head trauma filled lesions

That once were seeds planted in my head

Struck by a riot’s kisses

The violent idealist was telling me

Over a meal at his favorite place.

I shrugged and nodded with a half grin

Struggling to keep the food in my mouth.

“At least someone out there understood”

I thought as my smile stretched

From crooked sides

As his blank expression grew

Setting out lines across his face

Reminiscent of tree roots

In symmetry and rhythm.

"Repression grew out of adolescence"

He continued after another gulp of fine wine,

Wiping off his nose

When such behavior 

Was out of season.

I was drawn to his confidence

Like a painting that sucks you in.

Caught off guard by words 

Reinforced by self-taught thinking.

Taking to me kindly,

I continued to keep sipping

My glass of wine as he poured

Both he and I another.

Deeply impressed

By this rare trust in humanity

He ordered another bottle.

He then said with a grin

"It’s gonna take a little more

To make the pain go away."

[charliewykes]

home pollution

The open water catches fire. Dark secrets flickering in open, night Lurking behind closed doors anonymous Ambivalent airplanes that have taken flight Unaware over the decay in endless fights As pressing tires rumble along the crumbling Streets, bumbling motors spitting stagnant Running eternally adrift over open air I can not breathe Another thought. Whether to return Back over there.

[charliewykes]

underground back-and-forths

Riding alone on subways In the rip roaring calm Roaming the constant city. Playing that song out loud For too long while pretending There’s nothing wrong with it. As nothing and nobody quits Each time I sit in a metal box Twist, and turning as iron burns Stainless steel tracks squealing In tunnels painted black As there’s no looking back And yet, you can’t stop staring. In cracked mirrors Reflection When doors slide open, You’re taken aback. You step off Return You’ve arrived On a platform, You’ll always be back

[charliewykes]

sleep made useless

Night terror Stricken scared Worn out and up Creaking stairs The careless bind Constant toward Spinning Forwards Out of reach You move again Under worn out sheets Scraping the floor The bed still speaks

[charliewykes]

time diminished by now

Descending back to fetal positions The ocean of time turns from tie dye To black and white through the eye Of the needle fantasizing commotions Needlessly devolving back and forth Beyond the highs up greedy outposts Designed to extinguish hope for most As a future ghost dystopically dissolves Some dreams aren’t designed to leave in

[charliewykes]

small talk actualizing nonsense

Combating contemplation Erasing all inner debating Conflated by my last mistakes With nothing left to take Away from this last day Tracing fading tracks Along a roadway forgetting A continuous lifetime’s worth Of rusting road blocks erected Long wandering a way’s trek Till I find that appropriate sign Saying it’s alright to fall in love again

[charliewykes]

hashtag the madness

Too busy tearing myself apart I can’t stand the insider glance Can’t stand such passing chance Can’t stand the rough rough dance Refined condolences lasts in lost romance Who, what, where, why What do they mean? I’m cashed out clean In my dreaming schemes Rendered foils of toiling Around to blank sounds Dropped while raining. After fighting for that spot Given to restraints infinite refrain Continuously taming lost loose shock Before returning to cheap comforts Found in precarious self-containment

[charliewykes]

cause your meaning

Subjects spewed held back words In sequence, all at once. Where a frame of mind That's unable to discern Whether anything is good or not. But it's just so raw and honest Despite it seeming like nonsense Upon an immediate first read or two But only to leave yourself With a smirking grin breathing Through the smoking gun Of your mouth just a few hours later

[charliewykes]

caught in thought

Three dots mark The possibility For further remarks As a fourth one Tends to reveal Not much else For one to say 
One day maybe As pauses begin To rot as thoughts Still go astray

[charliewykes]

casual down pours

Probability in hostility’s leisure Caring as cultured ordinance Seethed supplies’ moving Slow hauling conceit’s wave. The monsoon of exuberance Took pride in consumed particulars Responding to exact amounts In solemn predicaments Song-schooled toiling roots Of the movement’s responsibility Grabbed as toast morose Corroded gaps in reasoning Seasoning to numb senses Overwhelmed by the offensive Decrying permanent diseases As far as the ocean can see Arguing tropes with hopes Spun solemn marks spoken With a mess of messages To continue poking holes

[charliewykes]

caught up

She held old memories Of masculinity crossing Androgyny in his long hair Kept shiny and cleaner Than his troubled soul He’d repeatedly sold out For instincts he was taught To not feel nor think thus making Him such a walking contradiction

[charliewykes]

contradictory behaviors

I’m beginning to realize That the more I observe And interact with people The more sane I am. While those around me Not so much. But hey, Isn’t that what they all say Who go mad end up Saying in the end?

[charliewykes]

conventional senses

Different languages grossed confusion Teetering off crossroad yield for masses. Signage titles confused antagonism Towards simplifying hourly drag races. In old cruisers painted with angular rays Reviling for clarification’s point of view. Purposed while resorting to the abstract Painterly signs to decorate chipped rooms. Honoring the muse before a sunset cruise With lilac hues glossed over dreaming.

[charliewykes]

caught nodding (off)

Glamorized retribution Readily achieved hope With transpiring ghosts From the past's fortitude With an expiration date Crossed out to continue While spoiling audiences Retelling old stories hints Shutting down glorified doubt Singling out instilled habits Settling into institutionalized Sprouts of living situations Mocking harems to monarchs Driven as masculinity whores The good luck bolstering an ego Selling out castles of vanity Rather than contracted leasing Madhouse conundrums Spinning to motionless living Popping tablets for madcaps Passing tragic lifestyles off As valid means of blind living Took a toll hanging off tragic polls Caught soliciting nuanced sincerity Before falling back out of bed

[charliewykes]

catch the traffic

Surreal sarcasm settled dream sequences Built from humiliation screenings Conducive to illusion’s task force Growing a knack for finding meaning To fit in a suitcase cradling around With broken handles stained hope Multiplied recessive blue jeans Spawning discomfort giving ethereal Coordinates down desert highways Seeking pyramids on another continent Looking at directions, can you see it yet? Double dip that chip for wet sensations Sensuality’s sin crumbled in silence Resembling rejection easier to make More than uncomfortable confessions Saving your receipts of the adulation You paid for separate from a hotel bill Colonizing town-to-town a willful self-obsessive Remarked to the deaf talk radio show host Forgetting the vehicle he was driving in Was last year’s model reminding him Of the long road trip complete and ahead In vast landscapes surrounded by nothingness

[charliewykes]

cobwebbed trap doors

Black dogged fog fills the empty stage Set with a lone spotlight slowly adrift For an imagined gaze you try to ignore That self-consciousness tries to control While leaving shadows nobody noticed Jagged movements of a pacing neurotic Leaving behind a pleased the audience With pointed fingers and howls seeing Seen from a freak show's standing room As rhythmic footwork never mattered Entertaining such pointless honesty While a stage floor illuminates illusions Revealing all that was left of the remnants Where performers and freaks had no place Left to return that's drifting in the dead zone Devoid of passing lights in worn out wood With nostalgia's trapdoor left for the outcasts

[charliewykes]

stay a little while

Dawn's yearning arrest shadows In the face of continued journeys Following no accelerated traces Hindering speeds of imagined races