Author: Charleston Poets

I am incomplete
Many things
I do not have
One by one
Each thing will come
And I will be complete

A queen in my eyes
Is clean within inside
Conscious of her life
Her strength moves mountains
A tornado within her storm
Climbs to the horizons
And moves the clouds
Her pain strikes lightning
To move the ground
Her heart is courageous
In silence she’s sound
Of art innovating
Kneels to the ground

Close your eyes

I am right there, close your eyes,
feel this, feel my finger tips, they are fascinated
by your skin while stroking your spine,
feel me breathing down the back of your legs,
kissing the tops of your shut eyes,
pulling your face in towards mine.
this is almost a kiss, this air between our lips
is one breath. As your shirt slides
onto the bed, and my head falls upon your breast
I do not care what happens next.

The whole world has agreed to quiet
so I can whisper through my heart,
listen everything is going to be all right.
I will be there in the drop of a dime.
I will dance, until my body is no longer mine
Then I will keep dancing in the clouds
with the best view of the sky. I can live
forever remembering those moments
drifting off in the gaze of your eyes.
the tips of your fingers stroking my palms.

Close your eyes now we are on an
empty plane, toes out of the window,
catching the rain. No where to go
nothing to gain, nothing to loose, Our day.
Our day, Our day to choose, Our day.
All are quiet nothing to say. Just a piano
and a violin playing. Open a well aged bottle of
blush, blowing bubbles on your belly button
barely breathing begging for bare skin to touch
bathing you in coconut lotion, melting into the rub.

Close your eyes, come with me,
everything is ok, Just breath. You are not weak,
Just breath, its a perfect day to be.
starring at your face just you and me. My eyes
are so tired, they are scared to blink.
they are scared to miss a glimpse
of just your finger tips, touching my skin.
forever is to long never to hear you breath again
Close your eyes I am right here always by your
side. I will die for you till there is no longer time.

Spinny Chair

You get in the spinny chair, about to spin,
You know you’re about to spin, but nobody else knows,
You start to spin,
All you are able to see is simple flashes of color and light,
All you are able to hear is splurges of noises and murmured sounds,
You start to get tired, dizzy, and careless,
It soon becomes almost impossible to stop,
All the colors fade to black,
And the murmurs go silent,
Once the spinning stops on its own,
The world becomes blurry again, and simple thoughts hurt your head,
You start to realize,
It’s been hours instead of minutes,
Days instead of hours,
When you try to get up, you’re dizzier than you had imagined,
You’re so exhausted and unfocused,
You don’t even have enough energy to keep your balance,
And then they ask you to remember each detail,
While you barely remember the main event.

Read more poems and short stories here.

Click here to view the great poetry video submitted by Amber Basares!

I speak truth, heartache , love and political notation. I am like a love potion leaving you hypnotized by my movements of flow, transfixed on my words as they leave my master’s lips heads moving like in ectasy , trying to understand the deepnes  of my lines, the very movements as we connect an d flow as one.

I am forever changing, evolving.

        I am poetry

I am the ghost of botany bay
I sit in the oaks and watch you play
You search for shells and walk the beach
Just short of being within my reach
I look out across the sea
A sad existence is for me
Alone I walk this desolate place
I pine to see my true loves face
But alas I have to wait
For His return who deemed my fate
For once with just a flashing whim
I made a wish as heard by Him
If when I die this lovely place
That I should haunt to be my space

Pummeled from the pressure
Crushed in a way
3 atm can’t make a deposit
Doesn’t talk much
Talks too much
Can’t really tell, can’t really decide
Because they tend to think of these pipe-laden dreams as unsettling
Self-medicating isn’t real medicating
But sometimes I just like to take some time
Watch the water for a spell
Reverberations, energy pulse
Or is that just me getting in my philosophical feels
Because i like to think a lot
Overthought from these drawn out processes
And each detail is traced to perfection
But still sometimes i get this uneasy feeling
Because i didn’t take time to watch the water for a spell

We all end up somewhere
Coming to these crossroads
End of the street, back to the house we used to break into at night
But we were just kids we said
Just getting the jitters out
Because we are young and free
But we all have to grow up at some point
Float through it, drifters fade through those cracks that seem second nature
Coming home to the place we were meant to be all along
They say home is where the heart is
Wipe your feet and come through this door
Because there is no dirt in his house
Complete and shining bright of exaltation

Of course its pride I’m referring to
Because the young men of our age stand too tall
Grow up too fast halfway to an early grave or so i was told
But turn the other cheek because they just took a wrong turn somewhere
Some type of dirt road
An elementary passage
And they think it’s some rite of passage
Who got it in with who
Locker room confidential
And this isn’t the road not taken
Nobody could have seen it coming
When young men and women go sprinting into it all
And i told her to quit being so emotional
To just let it roll off of her back,
That he wasn’t worth it
But we keep making it so hard on ourselves
When we stop keeping everything under lock and key
But instead we keep it on the hush hush
On a need to know basis when it should have never happened at all
And they pin it all on that damn music television
Yet when responsibilities go unattended
And we find ourselves witnesses to victims
Our hands are just as bloodied as theirs


Send us a poem, or tell us about an event!


Yay! Message sent.
Error! Oops. Something went wrong.
© Copyright Marcus Amaker Design