C h a r l z

Poets and fools like me will continue to write about your beauty and always fall short... Because beauty requires a perfect balance of light, mixed in with intricate shades of darkness It is a sensitive art that pours from your eyes like a river Perhaps, beauty is not meant for everyone for it is as elusive as love Yet everything your hands touch and all that you gaze upon: the mountain and its rocks, the night and its stars, even caves full of shadows — You awaken their hearts For hearts do not fall for you They rise... they laugh they sing, they dance, and go to war to dream, and love... I know a woman who carefully hands her heart out for riches And another who throws it away for free This is not beautiful. This is a mistake. But, throw me a quick glance, or something, anything — a smile, a kiss, a punch, a stone, or a flower — and I will sing you ten thousand love poems to the Moon to cradle you while you sleep in the heart of a star.

  Your silhouette falls in my mouth Repeatedly I could not speak, in pleasure You compel me to rise and fall To be lost and found In your quivering hands You confuse the bones out of me I look for myself in the rush And fainting ebb Of your sighs That I find myself in your soul As tonight, I love you with kisses Smoothly etched Between the sheets Of your being.

   She wanted to eat the Moon That is impossible  I said  the Moon is too big Do not be hilarious  she laughed and held a coin up to the Moon It is even smaller than this coin I will eat it like an almond Moments later, I heard that she rode a Lemurian crystal orb and flew to the Moon Next evening, I saw the crescent Moon and realized that she was probably living her dream of eating — eating the Moon Worried that no Moon might be left for humanity I rented a helicopter and flew high up into space I found her, sitting on the Moon as if thinking of the right way to bite it How are you?  I asked Come and sit beside me  she smiled I do not think I still want to eat the Moon  she said That is strange, why not?  I asked From here, everything looks more beautiful  she answered The Earth looks like a dream as it should be And if I eat the Moon, we would not have this place to sit together She reached for a star and plucked it I can have this ins...

Every night, her soul leaves her body and dances with the devil They hang on a string of moonlight and sway to a silent rhythm He loves her sometimes she loves him too Nonetheless, they always dance the night away and hold each other as if they were dissolving Someday, surely she will dissolve into ashes and stardust and he will have to dance alone His hands will miss her hands and his feet will search for her feet But tonight is unlike any other night: They do not just float, kiss, and bend for  they shall dance to the edge of the world Never to return.

  I will open you, petal by petal Slowly, amidst exchanging breaths Feel my fingers send ripples down your skin Tracing constellations made of desires, erupting Urges Watch me surrender my soul To every inch of your splendor While I examine the pages of your body Soft, glowing, and infinite Every pore, every curve Nothing will be left untouched Feel how my lips write my devotions on your naked self The blunt confessions of a soul, in lust with divinity And make your body tremble With your already trembling lips For I will eat you down, until your words falter Until your sighs learn to pray And beneath the curious moon and the shy burning stars I will look straight into your eyes Bask in every expression you make As I stretch you open, with my hard wicked body Digging into you — slowly, passionately And without mercy While love, that strange mysterious love, melts Into our sweat Then I will hold you, pull you, closer, closest Oh, my most sacred — now gasping...

Pursuing your dream is one of the best things to experience in life. Unfortunately, many people have given up on their dream thinking that they are not good enough for it. They fail to realize that every night, the stars look at them hoping that they will have the courage to take a step towards their dream, and shine. Know which mountain to climb You can only climb one mountain at a time. Thus, you should carefully decide on which mountain to devote yourself to. The best mountain to climb is where your passion and enthusiasm lead you. Remember that it isn’t about being on top of the mountain that truly matters, but every step of the journey. Do your best Most people don’t do their best because they are afraid that their best might not be enough. Do not be like them. Reaching your dream is not about impressing other people. It is about fully knowing yourself including your strengths and weaknesses. Like an arrow released from a bow, put all your energy and strength on the journey. Do no...

They warned him that she was mad.  He did not believe them... until she took his heart and started to write poems with his blood. “Do not worry,” she said, “for every poem is stained with a kiss.” She wrote a hundred more. It was a fantasy that was never meant for any human.  But he did not want to let go... until she evoked ghosts and ancient spirits  to hold him tight.  “Do not move,” she whispered.  “I also want to write poems inside your body. If you move, it might hurt more.” She stabbed her golden quill into his skin and wrote until midnight, until there was  no more space in him for another poem.  Tired yet smiling, she asked, “Do you like it?” “Whatever makes you happy,” he groaned,  not knowing if he was dead or alive.  “But, please tell me, do you also love me?” he asked.  She looked at him, her glassy eyes pure and innocent, “I only write because of you, my love. You make me a poet...

The world was a playground for fools like him Until she came, lily-like in the wind. He had to stop, he had to pause and look: She was a force of nature, A beauty of a fairytale in a book.  And all that he thought was best in the world Began to crumble at her feet.  He stared at her, quietly melting, As she walked past him Unaware she was glowing. 

   With her arms crossed behind her back trapped in a pillowcase, she was a candle in the night “Write a poem on me” she said and I obeyed, very carefully First, with my lips, then with my tongue, I wrote slowly on her canvas while she held me with her eyes – eyes that spread out like branches touching the biggest stars More luminous than the evening, I tore the night to pieces and dipped into her soul “Be gentle” she whispered with a sigh, like a soft flower to the moon while I continued to contemplate the fire, burning her secrets with my desire With my lips replete with her kisses and her breaths breaking on my skin to the sound of grace, she bit my shoulder, and pulled me up from the depths of the earth to the sun blazing in her body I pressed her cheek against the pillow and watched her melting, with every thrust The sheets, wet and swollen, wild with dreams She whimpered, crying tears of the moon – yet she was glowing We died that night We died that night when I sank dee...

The only  thing   that  matters  is what  you      write  on  the  paper. Everything  else    is  not  real.

She is full of earth    and bright   and solid nothing escapes   her light in her eyes   are dreams,  full  and torrid wild enough   to touch     and   conquer  the stars the wind  asks, where is the  fire? answer: fire  melts  on her  body like the waves that  find  the sea  in her hand and yet  love  is a  mysterious   sacred   journey  a  pure  divine art because  if  you  only look  closely you shall   find    her   in  my   heart.

Sitting by the bonfire, the stars fell upon us We were young enough to hold its light with our dreams But then we grew, and outgrew ourselves Now only the stars remember the dreams we left And yet a fire still burns the fire we carry in our hearts, forever burning reminding us to sit and watch the stars and be like the bonfire that burns, ever-still full of dreams of a child, alive with a Soul.

A woman walked into a village bending on tiptoes, swaying to a silent rhythm A woman walked into a village Yes, that woman in a white dress, with gold, flowing hair A woman walked into a village A little boy watched her smooth and fluid steps An old lady by the hut saw her liquid motion The man tending the field was enthralled by her sweet and tender frame, face divine For who would not love a woman with wild eyes, body of fire? A woman walked into a village and soon enough, the whole town was dancing in a frenzy as if in a hypnotic hold or was it all just her beauty? A woman walked into a village and they all danced without end for days and days until a child fell dead on the floor, and then the old woman, the man -- everyone danced to death... The woman walked into another village and danced, and danced. *In 1518, a woman entered the city of Strasbourg and started dancing alone. Eventually, everyone also danced, and they danced to death.  May their...

you are         a rare creature   a myth        buried    in a secret page      of literature one day   the world will have        to dig in and exhume you     from my heart to see  how your soul spills   from your body              giving light      to the stars

she may look like a rose but her soul is a sword before you can break her you have to pass through the blade

I am become Death for the soul finally died I left it floating in the Euphrates for having loved too deep nobody understood And now Death walks upon this pale and muddy earth holding a scythe for it is not Death that man should fear but Life and all that move and breathe. "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."   —Lord Krishna, Bhagavad Gita

Death is a beautiful woman with long, blonde hair and green, timeless eyes One day, she will sit beside you, smile coyly, and kiss you on the cheek She loves you and will save you from Life Therefore, live... Live with meaning and dignity Do not follow the mainstream crap Instead, yearn for things that have a soul And be mad enough to follow your heart For you were not made to be tame You belong to the wild among the brightest stars and the biggest flowers You bloom, you shine in a crowd of angels... So that when Death finally comes, you can greet her like a long-lost friend, smile back at her, and laugh as you tell stories of how you lived and died a thousand times so you could kiss her on the lips Because Death was once in love with Life until you came.

I hunger for things that have a soul If you have one, I will eat you... I know a woman who, in order to breathe, writes a line or two of poetry I also know a man who dances, naked in moonlight with the ghost of his beloved I ate them. I hunger for things that have a soul and I am starving Because when I show the world a beautiful red rose they only see the thorns.

I  have        loved      you    long  before the    mirror    did.

Fleshed out in flames, my hands find your body in every direction I tiptoe to the stars and meet your timeless eyes Your back arches like a naked mountain catching the rain You are water with a body of fire, fingers of wind your earthen mouth full of summer Trapped under the tresses of your hair I look at you as one looks at the moon Whole star, whole dream And the heart of the sky beats with echoes of your name.

I watched her from across the room I watched her glow and steady I watched how her body crosses the aisles of my dreams into a delirium of the senses an illusion of breaking voices and starving breaths I held her with my eyes in heat, scorching while the wildfires of my body crackled in lust, begging for one kiss deadlier than the last but she peeled my body the way she peels the stars and like a daisy waving goodbye to the last afternoon she breathed the sun into the moon.