April 29, 2008

Truth Cries Out Loud

By Charles Sapp II

Truth cries out
behind the opaque cloud of emotions.

She sings beautiful lyrics to my heart,
for nothing in return, except my acceptance.

Vulnerability exists in open spaces,
vast expansive roads—

I can hear her calling for attention,
in pursuance to console
and bathe in Truth’s tears purifying righteousness
and validating cosmic commons;
the juxtaposition of human violation.

The path before me is the desire,
the quest led by whispers
from children of the future;
aided travels with audible guides.
Holding mystique shadow’s hand to the unknown abyss
where pure light illuminates corners of inhabited doubt,
transformed to trust.

The voice of a thousand mothers,
cognitive synergy
with millions of familiar eyes
piercing walls constructed by insecurity.
The eyes are of those collective,
ever seen in a lifetime,
unified as a single entity.

Truth and her cries
echo from the core of spirit;
nearing the frequency becomes unheard,
soundless as vibrant waves amplify
and ring outwards silently like ascending stars
after relinquishing the essentials of life,
a fiery cataclysm
mute from a great distance.

Reason becomes clear,
question answered
and simplicity in itself coils inward
from the percussive personification
emerging from the depths of entirety.

This is where it may be found,
the epicenter,
the beacon of Truth’s cry
the song sung to my heart.

April 28, 2008

Symbiotic Release

By Charles Sapp II

The elasticity of time
and the skin of space
peeled back; exposed naked.

Teeth grinding with crushing jaws
retaining rage,
inverted sadness.
Modeling postures
tensely symbolic;
radio reactive, hardened rock.

Steady hand
placed on face,
surveyor of deep impressions,
motherly love,
echoed sigh of relief.

Exasperation of southern Sun
crowned highness,
heir to midnight throne.
A lunar guest
with goodbye kiss.
Tantalizing touched senseless,
the garden bears fruit,
shadow beneath feet
with gargled words
soothing sore throat
and unclogging air passageways,
breathe freely.

A distinct voice,
a distant relative;
pupils and iris to knowledge
as the Sun bursts into flames.
Earthly cadence
to a symbiotic release.

April 25, 2008


By Charles Sapp II

letting go of expectations,
relinquishing wrongs and errs;
the repeat of self trust without justice.

Broken flesh from compounded force,
repaired invisible wounds,
timeless tears drench cotton fibers
and leaving saline trails down face.

Kneeled prayers,
rocking like pendulums of faith,
crushed and bruised trust shattered,
reflected then inflicted inwards.
Guilt burns,
pride deflated
and human endurance tested.

Shapeless entities
reduced by ridicule
by haunting apparitions of the mind.
Balance shaky,
unsteady without bearings,
until the light reignites,
buried deep.

Seeking the surface,
standing tall,
proceeding with simple actions,
with a degree of difficulty.
Affirmation of events beyond control,
deceit retreats and evaporates
along with all developed stigmas.

Anxious as anxiety drifts to sleep,
voices settle and hand regains sensitivity;
the breath clears the mind
and focus becomes sharp with detail.

I forgive you,
and myself
for all the torment I’ve injected.
The water calms to stillness smooth as glass.

Only now may I see my own reflection.

April 24, 2008


By Charles Sapp II

from invisible vines
that dig into the skin
anchoring its venomous roots to invade the psyche,
behold the constriction of progressive thought.

You are capable of achieving anything you set your mind to,
heard as a household mantra.
Stroked and reassured early to accept gifts and talents bestowed upon,
second to no one, dreams are in grasp’s reach.

An ill child,
susceptible to all foreign bodies,
sheltered from the worlds germs;
including those of evil and persuasions that creep subconsciously from those infected.

Anthropology was the first lesson.
beginning with observation,
eyes bright,
wide and full of inspection,
watching the grim faces of those enslaved
without the benefits of nourishment,
overwhelmed with the burdens that life presents.

a sterile environment
cold monochrome hue of boredom
settles slowly without recognition.
A drone to emotion as sounds of joy dull,
yet it only takes one to revive the life of color to the people
offering hope and installing virtue to the seeds of the future.

April 23, 2008

Heirloom Relics

By Charles Sapp II
Rustic and weathered,
affluent namesake
secretly bolded clue;
a relic heirloom
to miracles graciously embraced
and imbued upon a few.

The richness of soil in hand
freshly squeezed Earth ripe with nutrients,
rooted deeply
as seedlings are seen stretching for light.

Caught by cosmic rays raining down from the heavens,
beneath the umbrella, sheltered and unexposed.
Bathing in oceans,
standing against the backdrop of cloudless skies and eternity,
naked in fields of green pastures
while the wind skirmishes in open space and skims the skin,
taking the scent of harmony to great distances.

True color never lies
in shaded regions of doubt,
outlining landscapes of imagination,
vivid offerings
transparent realities.

The song of voice to tone deaf ears
replay the sound of angel wings beating
suspended in time, felt through the heart;

No words may translate
or surrender the magnitude of everlasting presence,
yet may fade when memory fails.
All eyes straight ahead,
prayers to fill timeless gaps in the void of forever
ageless relics as heirlooms
the gift of insight.

April 21, 2008

Why I Write

Writing is a matter of perspective and inspiration is perpetual from awareness. As a man looking back from his childhood I’ve seen the conundrum of life and the malnutrition of human interpretation, this fueled inquisition and the seeking of truth, answers, and solace in nature’s disparity.

Only upon reflecting our involvement, the pain and suffering outweighed our triumphs and only then I understood mankind’s disposition. I wanted to change and disassociate myself from common belief, as an inhabitant of a world that is blind to the essentials, I began to write in nature’s voice; the desire to be heard, loud and clear.

The universe is a collection of all matter, rather intangible, ethereal or solid; however all may be in the form of thought which transgresses into realms of philosophy as a derivative of environment. I am ok with this as a treatment that exudes all restraints that counteract character exploitation and social ignorance. My objective is to capture the deafening cry of the world and our modern copacetic delusions and combine the two as a conscious and conscientious approach to deliver sanity through chaos while animating the inanimate. The ingredients are thought, love, dreams, reality, and a touch of imagination; imagine a world that talks back and responds to your every inquiry with knowledge and wisdom. The outcome is magic through awareness and that is what I plan to serve through my writing, a cerebral cocktail; from one mind to yours.

The human emotion is extracted from potent forms of engagement and through interaction this is where I find the beauty of human spirit and the determination of souls that continue giving, even when there seems to be nothing left. I recognize the innocence, wit, charm and engage in laughter when discovering the light of situations in times of darkness. I write to exemplify this experience as one of your own as we are connected and share the same air that purifies our existence and stimulates the courage to continue. I write poems of love to extinguish the hate that burdens our hearts as pain has been inflicted on the innocent that braved the exposure of their souls. I write to understand life, you and myself. Writing is a fragment of me given in entirety.

April 17, 2008


By Charles Sapp II

Unity bears the symbiotic love
shared blood, ruminations of brotherhood;
the fight, the struggle
as survivors of gene replication.

Separated at birth,
eternal parents,
born from two Suns
brooded to take flight
a creature of habit,
pretentious anti bodies
as dual pairs.

Strength in adjoining polarities
equation of one, factors of two
distinguished by character and amiable disposition.
Resemblance transparent with cause and effect,
truth and beauty heavily guarded
in steel rib cages.

Reflection off the surface of imagination,
conformed by dark matters
yet enveloped by light situations.
Similarities conflict as opposing forces
sermons drawn from old and new testaments,
doctrines that prescribe evolution;
abominations of the Source
as delusions of grandeur, disconnection from reality,
reality is a collection of absurdities
confronted on small scales
seeing one’s self
in the eyes of their child.

April 16, 2008

Richness of Life

By Charles Sapp II

Liquid shimmering iridescent green
from tropical plant leaves after an afternoon rain shower
and Sun approaching west
ending its day shift.

Sleepy trees nap while the wind plays
drifting sounds of music;
wood wind flutes from the limbs of trees and
tambourines from leaves,
in celebration of nature’s connectedness.

Life in movement
evolving, thriving and flourishing
its riches in cycles obedient to nature.
Purification of air
symbolic to buried relics
untainted by discovery.

Silhouettes running from the Sun
hide in the shadows cascaded by towering giants
waiting to conjoin as one
and lurk beneath the moon’s stage light.
Glowing eyes steal light at night,
peering from the darkness
feeding on silence.

A new day emerges
and the mist evaporates
trails of mystery dissipate
welcoming harmonious order;
a masterful array of life
abundant in richness.


By Charles Sapp II

Human touch
warm impressions on flesh,
nerve endings on alert,
responsive as information is reported
and recorded to the central system of emotion
converted to chemical
in reaction, I respond.

Reciprocated action,
heartfelt to the core of the soul,
fulfillment, anti-loneliness
a truth serum,
beloved hope drizzled with language
coaxing anxious desires
to be touched again.

Angst and detachment
rigid and course
untamed strength,
and seeking stimulation.
Cured by god’s caress
during the duress of living;
reality becomes real
and touch is the medium.

April 15, 2008


By Charles Sapp II

Rapid breathing,
pulse racing
heart pounding complicated rhythms
and blood streaming at the speed of light.

Eye fluttering REM,
adrenaline overdose
verbal murmurs in native tongues
of an ancient language.

Possessions of ancestors
inhabited body
escaping mortal rest from invigorated souls.
Dreams of the days
when the Earth’s heartbeat was strong and mature
and man had a conscience and embraced nature.

Solar eclipses foretelling the future
and fire was the spirit of ghosts
with fiery passion,
spreading their knowledge of light in the dark.
God spoke freely and often to those that obeyed.

Restlessness invades sleep
as centuries of the past overloads the brain
and bones become brittle to the countless walking of landscapes
without borders and limitations.

All this at the age of 9
as the cyclic cycle of moon phases
return once more and the seasons prevail
shortened and lengthened by the elliptical nature of orbit
One will awaken with history
and that of another’s voice.

April 14, 2008

Glacial Dreams

By Charles Sapp II

Glacial ice,
chiseled fractal sheets drift slowly,
sleeping giants awake from dormancy.
Atop the peak of sleep,
the cold numbs the senses as blue ice
sinks deep as cavernous mysteries
evade the imagination.

Dreams of polar escapades,
kissing the sky and summoning
the moon’s gaze as
spectral rings
glow, the crystal halos reflect light
in starburst patterns that dance above the atmospheric disturbance.

Auroras of mystic myth
reveals themselves as the Sun abandons the day
and electricity skates across the sky,
dominions divided;
solid, gas, liquid—
Ice, sky, and water.

Hands of Time

By Charles Sapp II

Wrinkles in time’s hands
as minutes and seconds slip from its grip.
Bones protrude the thin surface of skin
and veins rise from being overworked.
Callous from weathered leather
yet still sensitive to the slightest touch.

Interpreters of reality and messengers
that writes our future and records the present
for tomorrow’s yesterday.

Dexterous manipulation
of physical and inert material
crafted from imagination and brought to life by action,
molded by crushing fingers,
smoothed by the caress of grace and softness
adding the finishing touches of detail on
a living masterpiece.

April 11, 2008

The Harvest

By Charles Sapp II

Creativity is harvested from the fiber of dead trees
wrapped in dried animal flesh.
Thunderous thoughts rain words on pages
and concepts are pulled out of the air,
only those of select choice.

The melodic structure soothes the beast within,
harmonious order from chaos brings peace.
Colors meld to vivid gradients
and light displays the spectrum roles we play in life.

Life is a dream
we cognitively construct our influences
that becomes our character.
Hands cusped for receiving,
giving self to the source—receptive

Positive nature presents itself
as offerings of love pour into outstretched palms.
Eyes closed, open to dreams
envisioned as power streams through the limbs
like solar light to trees, igniting life to fruition.
This process,
divine and evident is the cure to all man-made illnesses.

April 10, 2008

The Longing of Me

By Charles Sapp II

Subtle yet soft comforting warmth of your presence
addicted to the sublime roots of your heritage,
that is missing from mine.
I look into the mirror it is a mystery
my face is blank and invisible with centuries of ancestral blood
flowing through my body.

My soul has amnesia
culture shocked from kidnapped ancestors,
I cannot see them but I hear them.

When I look at you,
I get glimpses of my history
and it is beautiful.
Beautiful like children receiving answers to their questions of life,
and spins a new set of questions fueled by inquisition.

The longing of me
has brought you me
to understand the depths of love
acquired through the synchronized breathing
as two souls sharing their past
and conceiving a future for generations;
by mapping our love’s time line.

Again, I look into the mirror
and my eyes are slowly materializing,
so I gaze closer and deeper
till I find my mother, leading me to the genes that make up me.

They consist of the compassion and sensitivity
to mankind and all Earthly inhabitants, the artistry that pours
like swollen clouds over deserts, the passion for love, and thirst for knowledge.
The feelings are reflections of my history and are carried like seeds in a wind storm,
and it is you who has been sent to me;
as the rediscovery of self unfolds.
I am blessed
and I am at one.

April 9, 2008

Influential Force

By Charles Sapp II

Burning hand dipped into the coronal mass
seeking the Sun’s heart,
leaving a radioactive touch,
an imprint while reaching
and searing the Earth’s flesh,

as it nears the atmosphere
it paints the sky with northern lights,
as auras of auroras
magnetic ghosts shielded;
prohibited entry into this domain.

The right hand massages the moon,
surveying its surface and land mapping each crater and maria;
diving into the sea of tranquility
in search for peace.

Gravity pulls planets and tidal forces give rise
to quantum love and secret rendezvous through the celestial plane.

Testament of the Ages

By Charles Sapp II

Youth in a glass
with an effervescent future
fizzing with dreams.
Young hearts beat hard and fast,
pounding chests of inquisitive spirits,
seeking worldly stimulation.

The world in revolution moves by this energy

The old and wise keeps it on path,
yet tired eyes watch the leaves leave the trees
beneath the currents of the wind.
The blistered feet absorbs the water from torrential rains
the same way arid land does,
quenching the parched, cracked and pervaded Earth.

Children witnessing men cry
as egos become bruised
and knowledge is outsourced by foreign thoughts and principles.
Women sacrifice
yet are comforted silently through their baby’s eyes,
as they see their future; bright as the reflected Sun on alloy surfaces and still waters at noon.

April 8, 2008


By Charles Sapp II

Uncoordinated patterns of footsteps
gradually increasing;
Doppler shifts gaining ground with repetitious movement.
The human sound is unequalled to any beast.
The murmuring drone of vocal chords
in crowded centers,
changing pitch with the escalation of exuberance.

All of this beginning from a primary objective
with one thing in common;
we were all brought to this exact point in time and space,
for a brief momentary interaction, whether consciously aware or not,
therefore, ever changing our course of action
no matter how slight.
This deserves attention as our encounters are fragile to the touch.

As hot and humid days moisten fingertips,
rubbing off ink from the water bottle label
transferring infrared fingerprints of red,
latent signature of me, marking my presence
as we exchange currency and courtesy with a smile.
Exiting without looking back,
never to know your name
nor your life story;our lives grazed unharmed.


By Charles Sapp II

Your spirit has been captured
and held captive by my eyes,
sentenced to life as a memory.
The witnessing of an angel,
unforgotten without sin.

Cherished moments
exceed time’s passing,
as retreating clouds disintegrate
with the penetrating solar rays
in hope to glimpse today’s blessing.

My love grows
expelling my findings as unique,
as the inspiration that flows
through the veins of human vessels
of cultivated feelings,
capsulated in the mold of flesh.

Spring blooms regrowth
as life compounds regeneration
and carbon copies of human interactions;
a stimulus of accumulated senses.
Love is like star clusters, collectively sharing their brilliance,
cooperatively transmitting radiance;
nonobstructive impedance through distance and time,
casting ripples and waves
under currents of deep emotion
moving towards the depths of abysmal cosmic waters.

April 7, 2008

Strands of Life

By Charles Sapp II

Twined strands,
intricate constructions
of braided hair draped over the shoulders
down the dip of her back.
The loose ends tickle the flesh,
until it becomes an agitated itch.

The smell of a fresh oiled scalp
when embraced with a deep hug,
admiration of a goddess’ mane;
wearing the rhizoid crown adorned by the Sun,
made of distinction;
the princess is queen,
mother of love.

The coarseness of hair
is the interlaced woven nature of mankind, time and existence;
grown as chaos and shed in order.
Healthy growth strengthens my bond,
illustrious sheen like photon beams
penetrating the depths and darkness of heaven
in search of you, seeking eternal blessings
as Creation lives through you.
Our people and existence is represented by the
interwoven interactions,
manifested by your hair.


By Charles Sapp II

Fragmented verses,
shattered by groundbreaking metaphors
ignited symbols as relics of a preserved language.
Clarity equates to purity
defined by time
as carefully chosen words
written then read
like enriched ingredients;
a potent dose of poetry
for the soul.

April 4, 2008

A Blogger's Paramount Reflection

Living life and taking each day as an opportunity for growth,
I encounter many obstacles and challenges each day that keeps me tested. Will I fold under life’s pressure? Will I have gratitude for the achievements I’ve attained? Will I stay motivated?

I return to the source and am astounded by thought and reaction. How well connected we are to our environment and the gravity we hold with our presence of being. The days I feel defeated are when my mind gets the best out of me, but as soon as I reverse the train of thought to evoke power and strength in all that I pursue. Transformation begins with clarity; perspective is paramount and focus is evident.

Writing has come of ease during the last month, better than most during the last year. I guess it took some time to absorb experiences and insights while living abroad. Also, having the responsibility to maintain a blog has encouraged the release as well. After 2 months of blogging I have to say that I’ve encountered and met many interesting people and have been able to share their perspectives.

The world smiles back in return when we walk and interact conscientiously. We are all products of the same material and what we become we give back to the Earth, our time here is atmospheric and may we touch each life, as if it were the hand of God; or at least what it represents rather you are a believer or not. I believe we all seek the good in life and this post is a reflection from the beginning to the present of my personal progress.

Eternal Struggle

By Charles Sapp II

Wrapped in time's coil,
seeking secret soft spots to slip stealthily.
Artistry as escapism,
elusive like the wind blowing east.

Clouds part from morning Sun,
transitioning from turquoise to pure light
raining divine on the day and
staining the sky blood red at day’s rest.

During the night of disorienting blackness,
time sleeps as light is lost;
holding a pocket full of light saved throughout the day.
Tomorrow outshines the present;
standing in water, reflecting the first sight of light
as blessings of purification
seeps at the feet
igniting the spirit;
atonement of yesterday,
a revision
molting self as a new version
visualizing the transforming essence of natural elements.

A phenomenon
of esoteric evolution
adhering to an eternal struggle
battling with time
during the face of light and darkness.

April 2, 2008

Leap of Faith

By Charles Sapp II

I said I would leap
8,000 miles in faith,
towards our future.
She said she would leap with me,
solidifying harmonious order
syncronized with clasped hands,
head first.

Welcoming the unknown in a single bound,
Love grips all fear
and alchemizes it into strength,
fortifying it to preserve the precious moments
that balance positivity as a weapon of virtue.

The Sun blotted by the moon
eclipsed as comets drift
escalating towards the return
marked as the beginning of beautiful things awaiting to come.

Pride emanates as glowing matter
dripping as each step is made facing due west.
using time to travel;
the method of journey via imagination,
thoughts run rampant,
leading towards final destination.

Landing on confidence and determination
as planted feet
rooted for stability
conquering the unknown
with a potent extract of Love by one's side.

April 1, 2008

The Fool Returning Home

By Charles Sapp II

The fool as mentioned before arising from ignorance,
achieving bliss that comes from aimlessly living.
I play the fool today as Time entices me something different.
Humble as the hand that begs with pride stuffed in pockets
with lint as dreams, beneath fingernails
digging and pursuing the forgotten.

The fool continuously dreams of stars
at their tranquil, peaceful and serene states
this is far from their violent, enigmatic, and cataclysmic character.
These are theirs and my truths determined by fate.

Raining their nutrients down to Earth as cosmic dust,
dirty and filthy
covered in Time’s defecation.
All I can do is wait,
nearing the end of my mission,
yet I’ve made way through the progression
arriving at my final destination;
the final stage of this venture.
Letting go of doubts and never returning to the sacrifices,
less than the experience and growth attained.

The fool is the one, who fears to return home,
not the one who relinquishes their abilities to existence
leading back to the nurture of love; yet
anxiety tremors through chest cavities
and heart rate escalates to a dangerous state
when thinking about reuniting with old habits and redundancy
settling with monotonous patterns.

Shuffling feet,
drudgingly as dead man walking
with suitcases in hand
returning to abandoned feelings and escape from uneventful fate.
The familiar feel of family and their hate,
returning is not an option
as there is no heart to bury emotions of invisible disdain.

The fool
is the one who repels
and dwells on grandeur paranoia
of being deemed a failure
and returning home as a disabled soldier.