Triumph

Sometimes I like to look back to where I have been and map the progress of change and the bouts I have fought in the arena of life. I believe that this process is how we evolve as people and how the unexplained becomes explained. No matter what life has dealt us; if we are still here, we’ve prevailed.

By Charles Sapp II

The Sun’s tidal forces take over my body.

The Heavens and Earth hold dominion of my physical self.

My internal being shivers with recognition of loneliness and captivity,

until the awareness unthaws and breaks free from the molding of confinement.

The adventures of a new frontier await me,

as the sound of distant discoveries beckon my desires to investigate.

Eyes wide open in the dark,

scanning surfaces to detect a glimmer of hope, resting with inertia.

The strength of change,

emotionally transforms the human landscape as seasons approach,

where destiny reroutes its destination as we confirm truth from ideology.

My soul basks in nature’s light,

to absorb the current condition of existence

as it rains down with flash floods of awareness

where the weight of the world rests upon me.

At night the Moon consoles me;

she spotlights the key elements that make us dream

and leave the insignificant hidden in the dark.

The process leaves an open wound

and the reparation of mankind is symbolic to the healing.

I dive head first into the abyss of my body,

swimming deep to revive my drowned soul of the past

by breathing new hope and restoration of faith

into a body that has been beaten, bruised and cut by life.

My outer shell has toughened as my inner self has grown stronger.

Reality is what you make of it

and I realize that I am a hero to myself.

Truants

By Charles Sapp II

Those truant to the encompassing magnitude of tribunal gatherings,

where the world has spoken in unison.

As the perilous planet pirouettes through space,

beings cling to her surface with heads bowed with prayers of mercy.

The future has come,

what was told has been said;

what was written has been read.

Time’s translucent dictation of the past

and reoccurring present, will heed no more warnings.

The Earth has crumbled under the sheer weight of burden,

and trees have walked away with their roots.

The untamed wind hunts stealth with savage fierceness

and the tumultuous seas trespass the shore’s boundaries

in pursuit for vindication from unlawful treason.

The soil that has given birth to nameless children,

must now identify their selves.

The watchful eye of the Sun will now look away

as the Moon marks shame to the naked walkers of the night.

The planet will claim its independence as it existed before.

The world has spoken,

we have not listened,

evolution is in progress;

the delay is negligent

and time will not wait.

Voice

I have pondered and reflected on the age of my writing and its process. I found that it was influenced greatly by various of my favorite writers and poets. I realized that my voice was a mirror of those that I aspired to be like. I was most influenced by those that had a knack to verbally paint pictures with descriptive ease and utilized the powerful imagery to motivate, inspire and reflect.

By Charles Sapp II

I’ve been searching for decades for my voice,

foreign and unfamiliar it has been.

My voice has been hidden beneath the layers of influence and inspiration,

found within the writers and poets of the past and present;

my identity was not of its own.

My voice

became the voice of Saul Williams’ spoken word that was heard from the distance

and echoed the whispers of Khalil Gibran and the words from the Prophet

and the Neon Vernacular of Yusef Komunyakaa illuminated my written verses.

The power of these writers and countless others have transformed my voice

and the development of heightened states of awareness.

My voice,

surfacing through the ages towards maturity

and conceptualized to define the soul and spirit of the collective,

My voice is merely the intertwined vocal intonations of self,

manifested through my predecessor’s dialectic wisdom.

My voice,

verbal with optimism as it reflects the surface of galactic waters,

and reverberates the serum of truth that pours out of each spirit encountered,

while journeying through the vocal cords of life.

My voice

has grown, enriched vision

with human awareness coalesced with cosmic concoctions

that speaks my words into existence.

My voice is the voice of humanity,

my voice is the soul that is buried deep within,

my voice has always been my voice,

made up of you and me.

Blackness

I was fortunate enough to watch the first part of the CNN Black in America special yesterday evening. It became my inspiration to write this poem and allowed me to reflect on my experiences as a Black man in America and in the world. Interesting enough the experience I had in the world speaks volumes to how Black is perceived and how it was established.


By Charles Sapp II


I was told that Black is the color of darkness

and represented by the negative nature that looms

in shadowed corners and dark alleyways.

They said Black is not beautiful,

but an ugly representation of ill fate

and the absence of the Sun in full gloom.

I was told that the word human is the derivative of a man with hue.

The complexion of culture symbolizes this true,

The Sun has not forgotten us,

the brilliance lies within the melanin.

I was told that my flesh does not determine how the world views me,

although the world blindly mistaken me

for having the mindset of centuries worth of castigated slaves

instilled with an inferior complex,

When spoken, my words undulate on deaf ears.

The Earth remembers

while the universe forgets as scars fade with time

and knowledge is the remedy for the future.

From what has been said and what I’ve been told,

spoken is the translated language of ignorance,

a language I cannot comprehend;

passed on by generations, its effects are evident.

The Black that I represent,

is in the unity of color

found in all human skin.

Thirst & Hunger

By Charles Sapp II

The sensation of thirst and hunger intensifies daily;

examining the better half of self and its desires.

Identified by the mirroring image of nature inside,

the reflecting heart of the universe, coiled into radiant love;

the perpetual emotion of self love

that acquaints its alignment to raw truth and rare elements

fused at the core of all that matters,

exempt with no words to taint the composition of purity

found in all human integrity.

Silence is golden as the weight of the world

becomes buoyant and gravity ceases to exist,

succumbed by the magnitude of presence

and the sense of oneness,

one must retreat to the source of common equality.

Only there,

it breathes and swells upon inhale

as a collection of cells represent that within star systems;

within personal universes, time oscillates experience for comparison

past versus the future as an amalgamation of knowledge.

Only here,

I find peace and recycled love from the beginning

as it penetrates my personal space and quenches my thirst and satisfies my hunger.

Inward Recognition

By Charles Sapp II

The first of my journey has been complete.
The winding roads have taken a straight path towards home.
The comforting arms of familiarity truly exists, like tomorrow’s nested hopes that bear fruitful futures.
Normalcy lost, in search to be found.
Faint subtleties appear then disappear into the calm waters of recognition of what once was,
as time changes paths and altered in accordance to the law of contentment.
The stars look back with recognition awaiting approval by the morning Sun,
granting a new day and rejecting yesterday’s doubts.

A colorful wheel of fortune spins for my choosing, but not for myself,
but for all whom may encounter my touch.
A conscientious decision made with eyes closed
and silent gestures of prosperity enriched with happiness
with an edge of fulfillment as I inhale opalescent colors and exhale translucent words of expression,
manifested silently as emotions that soothe thy soul
and atone my transition as a whole, like the eclipsing shadow that shrouds the visionary quest within,
questioning the day’s moment.
The digestion of time,
full from life’s experience and the exposure to truth.

Embrace of Change

The homecoming back to the States has been a warm welcoming from family and friends. It has been a little longer than a month since touching down on California soil and since my farewell to China blog entry.

Ever since, my perspective has never been the same despite the economic grim, my optimism for a bright future grows exponentially. The road towards adjustment proves to be difficult from the ever present culture shock to the looming inflation of gas prices, but motivation of starting anew has kept me stable and the love from family has kept me grounded.

My writings have been put to the wayside during this transition period, as I filter through my experiences to project the new found consciousness my life has yet to be explained. This entry is my first step towards releasing the newly acquired forms of ideas, perspectives and outlook of the future when compared to the recent past.

To summarize my time back home, it is nothing more than self evolution in progress and I am happy to introduce a new chapter of me, while exploring limitless dimensions of unchartered regions as they are encountered.

I embrace change.

Imagine

By Charles Sapp II

I look back at time’s youthful face and see this child full of inquisitive wonder
with their involvement in this world, while wearing it on his shoulders,
trying to cram its volume, density and mass within the cranial plates of his head.
Even though it could never fit, there was more than enough room in his heart.

Passion for answers consumed every waking frame,
when at a lull, boredom plagued idle moments and child’s play was just that.
He’d close his eyes and choose a color and run with it,
imagining the crystalline purity of aquatic blue water rippled with drops
from a tropical shower and the Sun playing peek-a-boo through the cumulus clouds
and casting a double rainbow with a game of hide and go seek of hidden treasure
where X – marks the spot.

With escapism at a cost; sessions of imaginative glory lasting for quite some time,
with gaps of slow motion speculation and third person observation.
Nature was his only friend and the environment was his playground.
He later learned to control the bullying wind and tame its tantrums to his benefit.
Blowing bubbles as wishes atop trees
and watching them drift to foreign realms of fantasy without breaking.
His unselfish wishes were mere meditations through the Earth’s respiratory system.

To look back at the child with no suit, no lab coat, no degree and no salary;
he remained content with no control except the nourishment to his soul.
His responsibility further outweighed mine to date which allows me to reflect
on all that we take for granted with peace of mind, peace at heart,
or world peace which begins with the child within.

Elder's Path Through Time's Reflection

By Charles Sapp II

Mountains sculpted and carved by time.
As skin cracks with age and hair loses its color,
eyes become filled with stories,
told without words.

The hands have touched many
and smooth surfaces can no longer be distinguished.
Fragile branches sway to the youthful wind’s play,
revealing time’s passing, briefly;
memories swirl through the mind,
a recollection of childhood innocence
as wonderment fills the air.

Bare feet walk on hot Earth, slowly
like rechargeable batteries soaking leftover solar energy
to a spirit that has walked this path before.
No needs for words, as these lips have spoken enough.

All that needs to be said, can be heard through a smile of content
and basking in the rain of newfound excitement
as bones prove durable and mobility transports the energy
of a lifetime of love, sought for and collected riches.

An elder’s kiss, meaningful
and full with transference of truth, unhindered wisdom of purpose
withstanding the duress of time,
welcoming the progression through time’s reflection.

Clenched Fists

By Charles Sapp II

Balled hand and clenched fist
shot into the air, above head
a representation of pride.
Hope to be touched by an angel,
in desperate need of a transfer of energy or protected power,
while naked on a cliff’s edge – blindfolded.

These clenched fists can crush coal into diamonds
not from fear but with faith;
faith that positive will may pave the path to my righteousness.
Meticulously chosen,
dragging air through the gaps in teeth with concentration.

The wind swirls in a vortex surrounding my body,
from angel wings hovering over me.
A guardian of trust,
a watcher overlooking,
while asking without saying and referencing my devotions.
I answer with a second clenched fist punched through the atmosphere,
and suddenly opening to rain crystalline elements to the Earth
and giving back the riches that have brought me love, peace of mind and happiness;
with hopes to rain infectious joy to those of thirst.

Angelic metamorphosis,
transformation of wrongs
executed to become testaments of weathered flesh,
battered by self humiliation and tiresome guess.

A balled hand and clenched fists are symbols
of holding on to faith, love and all that have been true.
A personal quest from a series of epic prose
and quantified quandaries;
1 love,
1 voice
and 1 verse.

Forgiveness

By Charles Sapp II

Forgiveness,
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.

Freedom

By Charles Sapp II

Freedom
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.

Desensitized,
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.

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.

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,
incomplete;
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.

Untranslated Language

By Charles Sapp II

A soul kiss;

the soft brush of flesh upon moistened lips
pressed firmly on chest.

She awarded me with a silver heart so our love will never tarnish,
enclosed in a steel cage impervious to rust,
fortified, built to last, secure that love will never escape
but only she holds the key.

The key to passageways
forbidden, summoned
with encrypted words, keywords to intimate worlds,
portals of trust—
fail proof for self destruction; a cataclysmic end
from something beautiful, sacred and untimely.
These are the whispers that linger as a cold chill
of foreshadowed dreams and diaries
that read the same with different text;
all I know is that I will hold it forever.

I want to remember my dreams,
elaborate details with remarkable accounts of fantasy fulfillment.
The clear waters on clear summer days
dramatically become overcast
and my nightmares become evident and plague my sleep
like the invasion of rogue waves at sea, or the draft wind
ghostly seeping through cracks and sills of tightly sealed windows and doors,
only to be found and entered during vulnerability
when the subconscious least expects it;
fueling or fooling my heart to beat beyond my control.

My dual respect for experience cannot help to love and hate your appearance.
How should I feel?
Should I embrace the guilt, or question the pain
as my life is independent and no longer adheres to the madness.
I say goodbye and farewell
simply by waking.

With a breath of extinguished fire,
words burn from smoke signals— spoken.
The signals undulate with the power of suggestion,
and I obeyed, even while they chastised my soul
to separate from spirit and relish in the beauty of composed lyrics,
enticing my movement upon command.

This soul is not for sale, it is a mere slave to sacrificial laws;
poetically combined to exemplify the mastery of craft,
dedicated to its passion.
The strength lies here,
between the message and the meaning;
from the unheard, unseen, and unspoken.
An untranslated language;
obeyed internally as it replicates
the encompassing sound of entirety
only found within silence.

Defenseless from Destiny

By Charles Sapp II

Destiny on a collision course with fate, cancelling one another out, leaving a gaping void in the ether of thought and contemplation; fizzing remnants of action’s ghost settling with what may have been. Moving on to the next, witnessing time’s vengeful acts of misfortune executed simply with malice in mind, faces melt to a questionable memory—till forgotten.

Face rests in hands with overwhelming worry, the sounds of the clock amplified, broadcasting the duration of energy at its latency. Love is motivation to the heart and soul invading all stillness allowing expansion and the capacity of understanding. Standing free of burden and guilt, since freedom of will is by choice. Laughing is the cure of self torment which laughs back in ridicule and poses no more threat to the mobility of consciousness. The visible light unfolds and reveals the imperfections as shame overrides the cascading flush of embarrassment of understanding our flaws that are exposed like fresh wounds awaiting infection by all who may notice.

Blissful Wish

Image Courtesy of Thane Gorek at http://thanatosstudios.com


With the constant need to change how I am living or how I perceive life; am I or will I always be in the pursuit of happiness, sometimes my fears get the best of me.

I’ve grown used to being tough, impenetrable, or impervious to feelings like most men—it’s a front. I wind up my sleeves as I go to work; mentally mind fucking my every mood with balancing rituals of right and wrong and replacing insensitive remarks with consoling potions and lotions rubbed on the shoulders that weigh heavy burdens.

The tug of war with Good versus Evil leaves blistered burns of callous palms along with a tired mind. I try to supplement what my life is deficient in, in hopes to achieve a healthy relationship with comfort in my own skin. I want to be guilt free and love thy neighbor, even with all of the suspicion and motives. I fear being the fool who dances his way off cliffs, yet I long for his ignorance leading his life as bliss.

Birthday Retrospective

This was actually written on my birth date Feb. 7th 2008. I was feeling good about the direction my life has taken. I feel like I have complete control as the driver rather than a passenger blindfolded.

Fireworks illuminate the night sky; the echoes reverberate off the buildings welcoming my birthday and the Chinese New Year. Thirty one years and the best are yet to come. Three years ago I almost let go, I lost myself at the mercy of abysmal defeat and was at the point of no return, although I gained more from the perseverance, will, and determination. Realizing that life’s greatest lessons are testaments derived from points, trials and misguided paths.

The beauty is that at thirty one, I realized that the best things in life are the ones worth the wait. Dreams are real, especially when remembered and dreamt often, self reminders become evident; what you lack, life replenishes only upon your own will.
The science of the matter is that, I’ve gotten older, my eye sight has worsened, but I have not given up my focus towards the future, allowing me to regain youth through discovery and nourishment of health by the nectar of love.

The Sun has blessed my existence and has illuminated my path by the grace of Goodness...

Deconstruction of Civil Wrongs

Introduction—Perilous Rights of Passage

By Charles Sapp II

Exaggeration of the ignorance;
intra-racial wars
with short term memory loss.

We have weakened our virtues
with self inflicted wounds
because of the hatred
of our mirrored self image.

False interpretations of love,
damned by persecuted minds;
we’ve stowed the seeds of selfishness
and our seeds have grown to learn
those bastards are born with egos as fathers
and insecurity as mothers and envy as siblings.