Sircharlesthepoet

Poetry by Charles Joseph


A Cry From Imprisonment

I’ve been reaching out to her in every way that I can from my cell

You see, patience is not my best feature

So I tap on the metal bars in search of a rhythm
Only her and I understand
I launch a sound in the air, hoping I know where her ears are listening

I summon her in the middle of the night in my lucid dreaming
if that’s what it takes to see her
I tell her I’m here. I’ll always be waiting and looking for her

You see, patience is not my best feature

So my spirit rises in the atmosphere to transmit my prayer
The wind causes turbulence. Sometimes I’m cold, and I envelop myself
I leave all I have behind because my interests are not pleasing her

There are some possibilities I must accept. But my heart doesn’t understand patience nor defeat
My soul doesn’t accept an outcome until it’s bold enough to face me
So I strum a guitar chord in her direction
“I’m sorry. I’m back. I’m waiting.”
So I speed through my daily commitments to leave an eternity of time for her. Forever.
Until she decides to come back.

You see, patience is not my best feature

So I apologize to my past.
I go back to the event that changed everything
Then create a reality where all of our dreams are accomplished
Where neither of us suffer and serve punishments

I recreate a bond so inviting
We’d have reasons to leave our unimpressive realities
We’d abandon the happiness we started forcing ourselves to rejoice in,
And go to that part of the multiverse
Where we nurtured freedom, peace and safety
All of our comforts.

So what are we living for? If not to amount into a higher self that exists throughout the universe
how long will it take until my higher self exists with her?
In the same room, where we go through our grocery list, separate the laundry and rip our hair over tax forms
Did you forget that alternate future?

How bad does the present have to be destroyed to rewrite a future set in stone?
How many times must I kill myself? How many times should I volunteer to die before my spirit arises to deity?
How holy must a human be to enter the presence of a Goddess who is cursed to these streets and mortal moral? Humanity morality

You see, patience is not my best feature

So I lay in bed unimpressed by lateness
I calculate these possibilities. Bringing the guardians of time to anxiety
I ask them to pay their debt for my frequent trips to the future, in the past,
Because the present had matters to be tended to and resolved
But I was convinced these matters already destroyed our future.

You see, patience is not my best feature

So I shoot the dream down out of anxiety.
I abandon the boat before it sails
I remove the moon from the sky claiming it’s to protect it
“Fear” is too similar to “care” so one is often confused for the other
So instead of waiting for doomsday or our ticket to paradise
I figured it’s best if I never find out.

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I wrote this about 7 hours ago. So it is still pretty new and unedited. If you have any suggestions on how I can improve it, please do let me know. Thank you!

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