The past year has been a whirlwind of change,   I promise new work coming soon, cross my heart......

Thank you Curbside Splendor....

http://curbsidesplendor.com/index.php?id=150

1948......

the year of  the Revival....coming soon...

a wolf...

her eyes only hold beauty
so you are following
the scent is lavender
honey behind her ears
when you whisper you forget your words
her spell is binding
her mouth a opening of sunshine
 warm
oshun leading chango into the woods
darling
she wrote the chant....
she doesn't speak much
the move of her arms
 hold the glory
that you want to praise

she only smiles leading....

a love letter to James...

i wrote this in the morning
 darling
the morning

when sunshine poured  through my windows....
and
 i thought about my layers.
..darling...
my layers
my depth
and how i have shown you my good
bad
whiskey nights
fighting
you
a pearl in my eye for you
i know
yes...
 im drinking again
cause
 i cant cleanse you out of this house
your scent is in the walls
smelling you that night
brought tears
i reached for my knife....
then i thought of your arms
and
 my breath became quick
 i held the silver tight
and
i cried for you
i sang for you
all in my kitchen
humming to sleep
when will you come back to me
so i can rest....                                  

Love, Charlie Mae

a dedication....

baby girl
that loneliness will eat you up
your nights
 become blended into one
your mouth is smiling
inside
confusion is your twin
you nod at each other
in reflection
kiss
the nightingale serenades your
whiskey filled dreams
and her song is on repeat
toasting to something someone invisible
waiting
turning  to only see
a shadow of
salutes
the army of forgiveness
has
issued a retreat
holding your own hands
your sancturay
whisper spells
wondering where is your magic...
to conjure

new work

coming soon.....brief hiatus....working now.......

the wooden boy...

charlie use to smile
until summer
the marionette
came into her life
he dazzled her with words,
made wonders out of places
in her that she didn't know existed
sang her melodies of lies
his strings popped in
a rhythm
that began a trance
she found herself dancing to this beat
morning time
she shook her hips, open mouth laughing
he fed her fantasies
those wood arms expanding in her face
her eyes followed
she began plucking on her heart strings
carefully checking them at the end of each month
mid July arrived
and
indigo revealed
a dragons face
replaced kindness
she checked inside
and the strings were mangled
all her smiles
vanished
her blood boiled
her anger contorted her body
and she was mute....
the marionette danced away
his head a little titled
cause he knew damage had been done

darling...

your emptiness
fills me up...
till i am drunk
slipping in and out of conciousness
remembering
the touch
i sit alone
water back
cup running over
our secret
i wrote the spell
and
you cry witch
i reply with moist lips
valley of maroon
dont fear me
just
love me love me
james...
i will never leave you...

invisible clock...

darling my deepness
is smothering
where you might find yourself drowning
but i am always present holding a glass

the loneliness....

humming over a drank, charlie presses the cool glass against her forehead.....nodding to the words..."when i saw you and that girl"....blindness....beyond heartache.....each drink, brings the feeling back full throttle....she says a prayer out loud....longing for freedom....egh.....she hugs herserlf....and sings a note..."baby, i rather be blind".....tears streaming...she just wants her james. any kind of way, reeking of some womans perfume, obnoxiously drunk, she wants that scent, those eyes, to fill her up...the record is on repeat.....she has decided to listen to this song all night till she passes out....another prayer..."jesus help me", her neck wet from sobbing....help me she whispers.....BLACKOUT

dark water and the color red.....

James stands outside the door breathing heavily, charlie mae continues to break glasses inside, he hears her house shoes shuffle across the floor.

Charlie mae is searching for her favorite mug, she throws every other glass on the floor. she steps on glass, a Ouch doesn't come out , instead she screams james. with bloody foot, she stumbles to the bathroom, her tears pour down her face, sitting on the top of the toilet, she trys to patch up her foot, but her hands are shaking so bad, she throws the gauze. Her mind is spinning, along with the room, she gets up off the toilet, and vomits violently, slumps down on the floor, the cold tile becomes her pillow for the evening. she dreams of her dead aunt Rose, looking beautiful in all her splendor, not the alcoholic schizophrenic, blank eyed woman that told her that her eyes were full of the devil. Rose is sitting on a swamp bank, with green leaves, and dark water around her, Young and regal, her long limbs hang off the bank she is sitting on.. she is dragging her fingers through the swamp water, humming the only song that Rose in her right mind played for her as a child. on the swamp bank, Rose flicks water at her, and ask,,,,do you remember the story i told you? do you remember i told you about fire? charlie mae nods..
A little kingdom I possess, where thoughts and feelings dwell; And very hard the task I find of governing it well. (Louisa May Alcott)

Charlie mae stares at her in awe, remembering how at eleven years old, she trembled in her skin, when Aunt Rose stood before her, six feet of fear, the same wildness that charlie mae holds in her eyes, Rose asked her "anyone ever tell you about fire charlie....hmph....she lit a cigarette...the johnson women, we got fire in us, yeah fire...charlie stared in her eyes, looking at the dark circles....Rose blew smoke..."hmph looking just like ya mama", then she began to tell her about heartbreak....

AWAKE

the tile is cool, but charlie maes body is hot, she reeks of alcohol, her mouth is dry, and there is blood all over the floor. sigh. she gets up slowly , to walk into her living room and see broken glass in the kitchen, all over the floor, empty bottles, her door open. sigh. she searches for her broom, no she should drink some water, oh no she has to throw up again. tip toeing over the glass into the bathroom, she vomits again, holds her mouth under the faucet. finds her mahalia jackson record, and begins to sweep, her ritual begins in the kitchen, in the living room, in the bathroom, mops the entire house. collects all of james things, shirts, his favorite glass, a sock here, toothbrush, a photograph they took together, all these things are placed in a neat pile in the corner. She pours florida water into her hands, starts form her head to the tip of her feet, in a sweeping motion over her arms, her stomach, her legs to the bottom of her feet, trying to rid herself of anything negative. in the bathtub, she soaks, crying along to mahalia jackson...........

back to james....

coming soon....

pouvez-vous rappeler...

"i wish i was young again....


Charlie Mae was raised in a pentecostal church.
There was speaking in tongues, tarrying for hours, revivals. She would go to choir rehearsals, bible study, morning service, afternoon service, evening service. She was obiedient, she sat by her grandmother in the same pew for 16 years, her expression never changed, people never knew if she was happy or sad. Her Amens had perfect timing, her alto could be heard strongly, she wasn't considered fast, just Missionary Browns grandaughter. the day she was baptized, she discovered her fire inside. She walked slowly towards Pastor Rice, the water rising on each side of her, the bottom of her white rob becoming invisible, his tall stature, he smelled of olive oil, she looked up at him, he was smiling, arms open wide, the sun his background lighting, she felt the pebbles under her feet. He took Charlie in his bear like arms, and breathed "praise the lord little sister" to the top of her head, she looked at her grandmother who stood on the beach smiling. Mother Rice stood behind her and held her at the small at her back, fire burning...her eyes were on Corey Johnson, Deacon Johnsons oldest son, out of seven, 17 years old, hazel eyed, wavy haired boy,dark brown skin, standing on the beach, his eyes met hers, and she stared through him, saw the flames , as they dunked her under. Gasping for air, coming up, Mother rice, Deaconess Smith, patted her dry with huge white towels,whispering in tongues, Charlie Mae breathed lightly, they caught the water running from her hair,calling her a good girl, her eyes stayed fixed on Corey, her skin smoking from the cold air.......corey stared at the way her hair clung to the back of her neck....the way the water caused her thin white robe to slide off of her shoulder just enough to show a small portion of skin, corey was lost in her gaze, those cat eyes , he began to sweat......that night, charlie mae lay in bed tossing and turning, until, she climbed out of bed, pulled on her now dry white rob, walked barefoot to koreys house, stood outside in his yard....pacing.... corey sat in the dark, heard her footsteps and opened the front door...from the sky that night, if you looked down....fire was consumated by two in white....the beginning of the gift and curse that has followed her for years....

burn to learn....

After days of pacing the floor, screaming into telephones, drunken cab rides, cussing everyone in her path,Charlie Mae sighs and exhales, sitting at her kitchen table, housecoat on, head down, still drinking whiskey. James is beating on her door ....."c'mon baby, let me in". She stands on the opposite of the door, lights a cigarette, puffing quick, quiet exhales, unconsciously patting her hair, "i can hear you charlie....CHARLIEEEEEEE ....CHARLIEEEEE", she giggles to herself, this fool is screaming at the top of his lungs..... "i hear you laughing Charlie...baby let me in....he beats harder.....the door opens.
James walks in, the record player is spinning at the end of a album, empty whiskey bottles by the couch, empty whiskey bottles by the sink, he knows that she has drank herself crazy, she turns to look at him. but god look at that face, still soft, light brown clear eyes, no trace of hard living, but those eyes, set him on fire unforgivingly, he follows a invisible smoke trail back to her apartment, after each time he disappears. No matter what softness, pink lipped, perfumed,perfect woman, he has decided to entertain himself with for a few days, Charlie Mae is his hex.
She looks at him, tears running, she begins to laugh....eyes closed, she holds her heart...its as if at this moment....she realizes his treachery, and she feels it, she feels the ache that she has had for several days, she feels the longing, she remembers the tears under her chin, her foolish heart....vision blurred by rage....
she grits her teeth, picks up one of the empty bottles so quickly, james blinks, and there is a bottle flying at his head....GET OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.......

Charlie Mae .......a sweataholic....for james....

sweat
sweet
sweat
sweet
sweating sweetly

sweat is apparent
on temples
on lower backs
blending
sweet
sweat
sweat him
no
sweet on him
called too many times
answered too many times
silence
is the soundtrack
touch is the trouble
wraps your mind up
smiling to yourself....
is he enough
are you too much
searching for just enough......
a whisper behind your ear

waiting...

Charlie Mae waits, it has been two hours. she continues to cross her legs, every time she thinks about her james, armpits over his back, legs wrapped around his waist, eyes closed, when she snaps back into reality, she sighs, and anger ensues. She looks at the payphone in the corner, a war begins in her mind, call him, dont call him, you need that, naw you need to call him and cuss him, she taps on the bar, the bartender steadily cheesing in her face, he fills her drink, and she suddenly begins to drink faster. "i am losing my cool", soft smile, eyes full of sadness, these are the second words she has spoke to him, other than "jack straight up". Mr. Bartender notices the gap in between her front teeth, "damn you beautiful girl", charlie mae stares, until he walks away. she gets out of her seat, and walks to the jukebox, howling wolf "moaning for my baby", she sits back down, and stares in the mirror behind the bar, the tears start, and she doesnt wipe them away, her heart is a beast, that overtakes her, it begins a storm, she puts her head down, laying on her arms, deep sighs...."you okay sugar", she moans "nooooooooooo, and buries her head in her own arms. pull it together honey, wish good thoughts, she sits up, neck straight, (mantra) i will not be affected, lights a cigarette, pays the bartender, walks out, and switches down the street, switching to the horn blowing, and catcalls from the streets......

the bar....

Charlie mae waits, she smokes cigarette after cigarette slowy, pulling a mirror out each time to reapply her lipstick. looking in her mirror, she looks over the bar behind her a man holds his glass to his temple, crying, and singing along to a imaginary song, down the bar a couple argue, whispering loudly, she recognizes the wildness in the woman's eyes as she sips her drink , he is clearly under her spell. charlie mae sees it. see, she was born with a veil over her face, that gave her seeing powers. the woman slams her drink on the table, mutters something evil, causing the man to get up and storm out. the woman continues to sit, not loosing her stare, her eyes follow his back out the door, she finishes her drink, and leans back in her seat. muttering muthafucking gemini's...minutes later...the guy walks back in, sits back down. he looks over at charlie mae, she sucks her teeth. the woman gently grabs his hand, and mouths i love you....alcohol love yall....he looks around to make sure no one sees his softness, he melts into her hands, rubbing them all over his face, they get up and leave. Charlie mae smiles, where is her james? he has kept her waiting for over two hours..........

hot mouth...

hot mouth
painted maroon
red finger nail polish
perfectly coiffed black hair
smiling over a glass full of brown magic
black lined eyes
small sweat beads at her temple
gap between her two front teeth
switchblade glowing in her pocket book
teal green dress
yellow roses pinned to the left side of her hair
legs crossed
black high heeled shoes
looking at the clock
the bartender preparing drinks
keeps glancing at Charlie Mae...
he figures she might purrr instead of speaking words....

excerpt from Cheshire...

humming to myself
certain songs are on repeat
in my head
smirking
walking through streets
watching myself from above:
i would poke myself
to stop the frowning
guide my chin up to the sun
let it cure you
push air into you
to breathe
when you need to speak
those words
that mean so much to you
hold your arms down
no fisticuffs anymore
send wind to blow out that match