Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tag Williams  Apr 2011
Sunday Jim
Tag Williams Apr 2011
Sunday, Jim would walk in the Park.
When he was young Mom and Dad would come too, but each
Sunday, Jim would walk in the Park.
Sometimes on Saturdays or Tuesdays they would go, but
Sunday, Jim would walk in the Park.
Sometimes through the rain,
sometimes through the snow,
sometimes through the fog, and
especially through the sunshine, each
Sunday, Jim would walk in the park.
When Jim was 12, his parents allowed Jim
to adopt a puppy from the Animal Shelter.
Jim named named the Puppy Al. Each
Sunday, Jim and Al would walk in the Park
Soon after Jim's parents stopped walking in the park
because Jim felt he was too old to walk with Mom and Dad . Each
Sunday, Jim and Al would walk in the Park and
Jim would think about his Mom and Dad and
carry them in his heart
Jim and Al got older and went off to College in Boston. Each
Sunday Jim and Al would walk in the Park.

One Sunday Jim met Sara in the Park, from then on each
Sunday, Jim, Al, Sara and Sara's dog Charlotte would walk in the Park.
Soon Jim and Sara graduated from College and found jobs and each
Sunday, Jim Al, Sara, and Charlotte would walk in the Park.
Soon Jim and Sara had a baby girl they named Emily, and each
Sunday, Jim, Al, Sara, Emily and Charlotte would walk in the Park.
But one year as Al got older he was unable to make the walk any more
and soon he passed away. But each
Sunday, Jim, Sara, Emily and Charlotte would walk in the park and carry the memories of Al and Mom and Dad in their hearts. And soon, Jim and Sara had another child that they named Bob. Each
Sunday, Jim, Sara, Emily, Charlotte and of course Bob would walk in the Park
And because dogs don't live as long as humans Charlotte too got older and and soon she too passed away. But each
Sunday, Jim, Sara, Emily and Bob would walk in the park
and carry the memories of Al, Charlotte Mom and Dad with them
in their hearts.And the years passed, Emily and Bob got older, but each
Sunday, Jim and Sara and sometimes Emily and Bob would walk in the park.

Then Emily left and went to College and soon after Bob did too, but each
Sunday, Jim and Sara would walk in the park and talk of Bob and Emily
and sometimes of Al and Charlotte and Jim's parents and Sara's parents."
Then Sara passed, Cancer, inoperable stage four, Still
Sunday, Jim would walk in the Park and think about Sara and Bob and Emily and and Al and Charlotte, some
Sunday's Jim would get a little tear, other Sunday's a little smile as he remembered the good times and the bad.

Copyright 2010 Michael Lee Williams.
Foo Faa  Mar 2016
for Charlotte
Foo Faa Mar 2016
Charlotte makes my eyes water
Charlotte bullys me
Charlotte eats my soul
Charlotte digests my soul
Charlotte poops my soul
Charlotte is a black hole
Charlotte is a wilting flower
Charlotte is an angry bear
Charlotte the wind that blows down your dreams
Jas May 2017
It was a heap of plaid,
Orange and vinaigrette
It dully blended the white washed denim
The sod contrasted around his knees
Pete Abrams Jonesy was a discovery on his own.

The glow of the night sky released
The party goers and the venomous tendrils
That loomed beyond the tree hats and
The milky grey drift of dust that
Skated around Jonesy’s fingers as he dug
Scattering the Earth,
Searching and searching for the creepy crawlies
Between the plates of dirt,
the patches he’s scabbed away before;
His mother,
Hard at work building a nation in the kitchen
And Johnny filling his swine
Slipping between the cushions of the sofa.
It was that very night
Tucked away under the fresh linen and the feeling of
His mother’s lips pressed against his forehead
Warming his entire body –
That he realized his kneading desire to take his journey farther
To take it to school.
That day on the playground,
His hands knuckle deep in the land’s treasure
Creating pressure beneath the stubs of his fingernails,
Did he meet her
He met Charlotte Anne Avery.
Her ladybug blouse was loosely cast away from her shoulders
And he felt the urge to push her into the sand
But he couldn’t.
Charlotte Anne stood with her
Pine cone hair mushed on either side of her face;
The chocolate spit smeared on her cheek
Was enough to lure the mosquitoes all around
And he wanted to be her friend;

She’s always seen him around
Though; never before had he been keen on
Gazing back at the eyes of curiosity
Or rather her brown ones,
The plain and wide innocence –
It loomed over her face as she knelt
Bent beside him and dug a hole into the cream sand
With her elbow, gently brushing the circumference of
The minuscule hole she created.
Her glitter pink glasses were
Riding down the bank of her nose,
With her bottom cushioned in the crevice of sand
And Pete Abrams Jonesy’s sandy-fingers
Shoving her glasses back up
To rest beneath the kind eyes
That laid on him.

The end of germs and suspenders came fast,
Summer sped around the corner
While Pete Abrams Jonesy and Charlotte Anne Avery
Flew through the highlights
And the untouched parts of the forest –
Gallivanting beyond the age of the bell toll of adolescence,
Did they lie beneath the Sugar Maple Tree.
The promises they made of an un-relinquishing friendship
Grew beyond compare
And ever so did a union of love between him and her;
Every day was a hot hurricane of journeys spent
Devouring the wilderness together
Until the occurring reign of school
Sprung up again.

A new appreciation for the human body
Was as much as Pete Abrams Jonesy
Had accumulated for the first semester
Attending Mayfield Middle –
His life was horribly array without the presence
Of Charlotte Anne Avery.
His new herd of acquaintances
Brought about a new kind of education,
One that was foreign to the halls of Mayfield
And while his afternoon lunches
Sparked a flame in his soul
He became well oriented with the hypnotizing effects
Of Rummy and Black Jack 21,
His mind still sauntered to the round table
In the bull’s-eye of the café
Where a cloud of pink headbands and perfume
Captured the interest of his Charlotte Anne Avery.

She couldn’t believe the variety of books and music
That were made to live in this world
Sharing the same space as her –
It was enthralling, thrilling, and slightly frightening
The tales and the morals were anything but limited
Was it possible to live a well versed life having heard them all?
Would the chance ever be presented?
Her friends were of everything that was made to be
From sports to gymnastics to video-games to art;
It had all been opened to her in a flurry of welcoming gestures
From the minute she sat down at this particular table.
Even as her best friend now swung in the birches
As his friends, the panthers, ran low
She’d always be welcome on his other side;
Though, surprisingly, she was comfortable in this
Shade of manila spotlight.

A second semester, of many years,
Was a gift in its own
A surprise gesture wrapped up in a bow
Of questions, tutors, late night studying
It all amounted in a pile of stress –
A mound of snow
Of tests and quizzes and failed homework grades;
Pete Abrams Jonesy wasn’t alone in his mind
There in the far corner of sawdust
And memories of the plethora of parties he attended
Did lay his old friend from miles ago;
Charlotte Anne Avery had moved away across the lake
On the tips of his fingers so far away
For whatever reason she had moved away
It was amongst him unknown.
“Should I feel an ounce of sorrow, of grievance
For this new found distance between us?
I suppose not; we have new friends now
A new family
I haven’t known her in a while.”

Solemn years passed.
Days of solitude and confinement,
Days of pondering and guilt – heartache
Mr. Avery had passed away
Lost to his kin
His pristine precious child
Charlotte Anne Avery.
The wake had been nothing more
Than shades of black and blue and grey
Uncomfortable heels and rough tissues
That rubbed her eyes and nose
As raw as the pain she felt for the absence
Of her father
Her mother’s happiness and
Pete Abrams Jonesy.
It’d been years since she’d uttered a word to him
Years since they’d even been in the same room for long,
Though her hands still cowered
When she shoved the letter in the mail
Serving him the news of what transpired –
He made no appearance
Her expectations should have dwindled over time
But they remained the same
As strong as ever,
Slightly calloused with time
Until there was nothing left but a sore spot
Of where he should’ve been.

The rumors still rang clear as she began to heal
She fell in love with Marcus Stalling
The final year of puerile days
Now left to rot in the past;
Graduation was held at noon,
Her cap was arced on her head
Perfectly set in place
The rumors still rang true.
Pete Abrams Jonesy was the
Shadow of a boy she once knew when she was
Figuring things out
He didn’t even make it to this day.
The rumors of the hit and run, the drunk driver
It spread around the halls like wildfire
She had been ashamed to have once claimed him
In any form of the word –
She missed him still.
What would his life become?
“No one will visit him. What will become
Of the adventurous and jovial mind
I used to spend time with?”
When she heard the news on the local station
She’d lost her father all over again
And still no one had the answers
To any of her questions.

College and Marcus
The grand scheme of life begun with those two
Wisdom came with age
Anger subsided
And joy was restored –
The life she once dreamt of having
Still rendered mist to her eyes
So many individuals were supposed to be
Toe to toe;
Charlotte Anne Stalling the center of it all
Yet she felt the same orbital satisfaction
Yielding around her with only those two elements.
All mornings were the same
Her sanity strove from cycling about
In comfortable routines and an endless screenplay –
A memory of a future once shielded her sight,
The warm bodies were anything but familiar now.

The winter would always be cold
Rushing the blood to the tip of her nose
But spring came about
In a parade of confetti and open arms
The coffee shop on the girth of the boardwalk
Met her every day during the breakfast of the sun
And the coffee kept her warm.
It was a morning where the tide was crashing down roughly
The sun fried her skin,
She was glowing
Her attention was snatched away from the scenic grounds
Stolen away by the scream and shouts that traveled
From the end of the boardwalk,
There stood Pete Abrams Jonesy
Clutching his arm while peering at the welt
Given to him by a Sugar Maple Boer.
I wrote this poem with the intention of it being a small fairytale about finding a soulmate, whether it be friendship or more. Instead, this poem became a long tale of what some - if not all - of us can relate to: surviving youth, acceptance, and growth.
#tale #growingup #youth #love #friendship #circleoflife
Erin Jun 2015
As I'm sitting, sitting waiting,
As all my thoughts are congregating,
I find my mem'ries to be tainting,
Forgetting about my Charlotte May.

At Minerva's School of Pristine Boarding,
We first began our timid courting,
And it was clear that she was hoarding,
My heart belonged to Charlotte May.

We got married in December,
Rung in the new year close together,
But soon after she got the letter,
The letter drafted Charlotte May.

They sent her back in shrouds of silver,
No longer living just to wither,
And her coffin made me shiver,
Deep in the ground was Charlotte May.

As I'm sitting, sitting waiting,
Lonely, lost, and always hating,
I realise my thoughts are fading,
Fading away like Charlotte May.

But I remain here, quite unchanging,
The scenes around me rearranging,
My days filled up with hoping, praying,
Until I reach the final day,

And I return to Charlotte May.
June 7, 2015 /itsjusterin
Kayla Lynn Nov 2013
Just a little snippet of a book I've been writing here and there.. on and off..
Any feedback would be just lovely =]
((Sorry that it's not an 'actual' poem.. but it's by a poet so maybe that still counts?))

There's one memory that sticks out more than most… I'm not sure why, but it does. It's a simple memory really. Nothing out of the ordinary. I think the reason I've been hanging onto it for so long is because of the emotion in her voice. I don't think she lied often, or at all, actually… But this was realest I had ever heard her voice sound. I'm not sure if my description of it makes sense, and frankly I don't care. In fact, I don't think my specific emotions could ever be felt by any other human but me. I was the only one that could ever know how it felt to see her that way, because I was the only one that actually felt it. Anyway, it went a little something like this…

"Why are you so worried about me?" She folded her arms and turned her face away from me. She could be so dramatic sometimes.

"Look at you! You're a mess! I don't understand… I hate seeing you this way because this is not the woman I want to marry!" I screamed at her for the first time in my life. I will always regret that.

"You mean I'm not allowed to be upset? Ever? Our whole lives together you want me to be little miss sunshine?" I wasn't sure what she was trying to prove, but I knew she was furious. I should have spent that time making her smile. I should have spent that time buying her flowers. I should have done a lot of things that I never did because I never realized how short our life together really was. I always thought things like 'we could do that tomorrow' or 'I'll get that for her next year.' As if I was so sure the next year would arrive. How foolish could I have possibly been back then? I hate myself for snapping at her like that. She deserved to be treated like a queen and I was kicking down her like a peasant.

"Well no! Actually you're not! I love you Charlotte. I love you more than the breath in my lungs. Hell, you are the breath in my lungs! You know that! You're my everything and I'm not ashamed to say it! I don't care how stupid it sounds! I love you like an idiot! I will always, always, always love you! I don't care if you're upset, or angry, or lost all your hair, or half way across the world, my heart will always be in your chest. It kills me to see you this way, that's why you're not allowed to be upset. You may be frowning a little, but seeing you this way completely destroys me! It rips my heart out and I'm bleeding right in front of you. Don't you see that? So tell me, what can I do? What can I do to make this better?" I sounded so utterly desperate, like someone had tore me right out of a John Green novel. I didn't like being that vulnerable, but I knew she had to hear every word of my plea.

That was when she said a sentence I never wanted to see spill out of her mouth. "I need you to leave." She was stern, honest. Charlotte stared out the window with the saddest eyes in the universe. Giant pools of liquid mercury streaming down her cheeks. Her tears were poisonous.

I didn't even argue with her. I didn't try to win her over. I knew Charlotte. I knew that she was no damsel in distress - she simply didn't want to be saved. She didn't need to be rescued, not once. If she demanded that I leave, then I left. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

Before I left, I studied her face for a handful of seconds. I didn't know how long she wanted me gone, I didn't know if our forever together was ending right before me. I didn't want to forget her angelic presence. I wanted her to haunt my dreams. She probably thought I was crazy, staring at her like that, and I kind of was.. in a way. I was completely crazy about her. That expression had never made so much sense before. She made me utterly insane. I belonged in a mental hospital because of her, and I was okay with that. It was worth it. Man, it was always worth it.

When the door shut behind me, I didn't look back. I was too afraid to see that she hadn't chased after me. It was foolish to think that she'd do something like that, but sometimes I loved to pretend that we were in some wonderful romantic comedy. We'd kiss in the rain. We'd sleep under bridges. We'd steal food from the local market. We'd ride roller coasters together. We'd have friends over for brunch. We'd sip earl grey in front of the fire. That was how I imagined our life being lived. It never worked out that way, though. People never do the things you expect them to do. Just once, I wanted us to be a couple worth remembering. I wanted other couples to judge us in pure envy. I was a monster, back then, that fed on attention. I was ugly, but I knew what Charlotte needed.

And she needed me gone.

I don't even remember where I went that day. I don't remember if I was gone for minutes or weeks. I just know that every second without her was a millennium. Our relationship was never a healthy one. I never knew that it was possible to love someone too much, and then I met her. Charlotte made my heart sick. Every thought I had when we were apart was about her. I loved her more than I had ever loved myself, and that was extremely dangerous.

I suppose she took me back at some point, found me hanging out on the corner by my job. Told me to come out of the rain and back into her arms. She could always find me; it was almost eerie how quickly she could hunt me down. I swear all women had stronger intuition than I could ever begin to fathom. If a child was hurt, a woman would come in running with bandages before the child had even begun to cry. Before someone could mention they were cold, a woman would wrap a blanket around them. I often wondered if two X chromosomes gave people the ability to read minds, or hearts. The weird thing about women was they never realized how truly powerful they were. We knew, we always knew. They were goddesses.

The cracks in her voice still ring through my ears sometimes. It bothered me a lot because she had said something to me that I could never bring myself to say to her. How could she not want me around anymore? It simply didn't make sense to me. I couldn't logically put it together.

Now I laugh at the irony of it all. Back then she wanted me gone, but she was the one that ended up leaving first.

I still plant flowers next to her headstone. The saddest part about all of this nonsense between me and Charlotte is that I've gotten her more flowers after her death than I ever did when she was alive. That broke me up.

Anyone that claims to have no regrets has lived a very boring life indeed.

These were the things I thought about when I visited her. I am so lucky to have that memory of her. I am so glad that she made me leave, because I paused time for a moment. I actually stopped and focused a hundred percent of my attention on her. I committed her smile, her laugh, her voice, her face to my eternal memory. I burned those seconds into my brain. Now I knew for sure, that I would remember her forever. The way she existed when I loved her the most. I am so fortunate that Charlotte was so clever. I'm sure it's a bit of a stretch, but I was under the impression that Charlotte always knew exactly what she was doing.

It was a stretch, but I had to believe it. She has always found a way to outsmart me. That's why I loved her dearly. She was the only one that cared enough to challenge me.

Our time together was brief, I think in the end it only added up to three years or so. Sometimes I think that it was better that way. Maybe we would have been toxic together. Maybe we would have grown old and bitter. Maybe we would have gotten a divorce. I am so grateful that we never grew old enough to make those mistakes. When I think back on our time together I will always smile. We were happy, we were so ******* happy.

Maybe it is better to burn out than to fade away.
But I'll never really know…
© Sarah Lynn
preservationman May 2015
A woman of sophistication and beauty
Princess Charlotte carried herself with eyes on community with unity
She worked hard all her life
Heiress to the throne and not needing advice
Intellectual being her vibe
I am not telling you a lie nor jive
Princess Charlotte enjoys being her outgoing stride
The beauty in how she maintains the Castle garden
Princess is her own Eden
But what makes Princess Charlotte’s characteristics distinguished is her personality
She gets along well with everyone in the colony
Princess Charlotte never acts like she stands for royalty
As she has respect for herself and others
In fact, you would never know Princess charlotte was of high anarchy
It is only because she lives in Honey Suckle Castle
It is also the royalty attire
Doing the right thing being her desire
Nonetheless, Princess Charlotte is always at her best, as evidence, everyone that comes in contact with her can contest.

— The End —