"charmers" poems
apple
did you imagine red?
so did I
which is weird because the apples I eat are kind of yellow
asia
I said asia
not China
I remember the time
my history professor told my class to imagine asia
I thought of an exotic
country
with arab sheiks
and snake charmers
the Chinese
the Japanese
chopsticks
and the orient
it was then that she pointed out
"haven't Western ideas just messed with you?"
and it was then that I realized
"Wait; I'm Asian. I've lived in Asia all my life."
how come I saw it as something foreign
and strange?
I've never even seen the things I imagined.
I remember when I watched Big Bang Theory
and the four friends sat down to Thai food
Raj made the mistake of asking, "where are the chopsticks?"
which led to Dr. Sheldon Cooper saying
(in this paraphrased version:)
"they don't use chopsticks. They use spoons and forks.
The fork doesn't go into their mouth.
They use it to push food unto the spoon, which then goes into their mouth."
I sat there thinking..
well that's weird
when a couple of months later as I watched the episode again
I realized
that's how my people eat!
that's how I've always eaten..
the houses I picture in an average neighborhood
are two story
concrete structures
with shingled roofs
cul-de-sacs
and oak trees
my own house
is one story
of brick and wood
it is beside a highway
and surrounded by guava trees
and coconuts
I don't even know what a picket fence is.
Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 8:19 PM UTC
Scales on bodies
Of that of farmers
Sun bares no harm,
On swinging charmers
A drop of a bit
Gives no smiles
To the hand that feeds
That walk for many miles
Cracks flap, mudcakes
Steaming heat rise won't stop
Children doing rain dance
While egg fries on roof top
Clear sky, bathes no cloud
Just stroke of heavy rays
Heatwaves tants the skin
Bad are these days...
©sim
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 11:50 PM UTC
In the arid dust I can see a shimmer of you in the distance, the red of your hair mixing with the ochre earth
Amid the noise and collision of caravansary in Jemaa el-Fna I hear your soft drawl joking with Snake charmers, always in hustle
In souks the sweetness of fennel and myrrh swirl in the wake of travellers steps and I'm reminded of your desert scent, like cedar and musk covered dust
In the dissonance of the call to prayer I can feel your awe as struck as mine, while the roiling sound of voices lifted in faith erupt over the Medina
In the coolness of Jardin Majorelle, I can feel your head resting on my shoulder as I contemplate the reflection of Lotus blossoms in stark blue pools
I see your eyes in the green of the Atlas Mountains, echo your amazement at Saharan navigation, feel your peace as the stars appear over the Riad
But can't feel your hand in mine as the sun sets over Marrakech
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 5:06 PM UTC
(For Marg and Laurice, snake charmers extraordinaire)
Like the Burmese priestess
kissing the cobra
I must never take my eyes off
that steely, staring, coal-black serpent eye
lest the fangs swaying in that unborn smile
strike
in the split-second
that contains my salvation or my undoing.
Lips always poised between heaven and hell,
I advance on the servant of knowledge
hooded with an assumed mastery,
that hood branded with Nature's tattoo:
Omega, the end
and that flickering tongue that reads my body
temperature could cut it cold.
Cold as the smooth-bumpy reptilian snout
upon which I lightly lay
the final kiss.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 3:46 AM UTC
It makes sense that a mummy was required
For the exodus out of my king rut
By wrapping me in silk and satin
And embalming me with love
But my brief time as pharaoh ended
A tomb at the pyramid I once attended
Thoughts of my sins plagued me
Did I get too froggy?
Or maybe he just met another sarcophaguy
Or maybe I misunderstood him
When he invited me over for desert
I wanted to conquer you
Like Brendan Fraser
Now I just want to talk to you
Like John Edward
I tried unearthing artifacts to channel your spirit
But your grave had been robbed
And after swimming in denial for so long
Wandering through the Sahara feels wrong
Your carefree kingdom is where I belong
But the evasive Ra warned
That the ghosts of snake charmers
Are abrasive and horned
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 1:50 AM UTC
I am not yet defiled; O hear me.
Let not the crazed hornets or serpents or ophidian or the
buzzard bee come near me.
I am not yet defiled; console me.
I fear that the snake charmer may with rhythmic body clocks clock me,
with predatory hissing paralyze me, with authoritative power anger me,
on wicker constraints constrain me, in bamboo-patches pierce me.
I am not yet defiled; provide me
With beauty to free me, dressage to cover me, silence to come
to me, souls to save me, charmers and angels
in my wandering existence seeking fights to waver the war within me.
I am not yet defiled; forgive me
For the provocative glances in me, my presence when womanity holds me,
my mythological beauty by deities beyond me,
my head held high when they slay by means of my
crossbow, my addiction when they poison me.
I am not yet defiled; rehearse me
In the dreams and the prayers I must take when
art interrupts me, material disturbs me, splintered souls
gaze at me, smiles fade at me, the knifes edge
stains me and everlasting scars pain
me to shame and the shames taints
my skin and my heart abandons me.
I am not yet defiled; O hear me,
Let not Perseus who is warrior or who thinks he is King
or a rival to me.
I am not yet defiled; O fill me
With gasoline against those who would inhabit my
bones, would sink me into empty caverns,
would make me a prisoner locked, a monster with
blood dripping, a monster, and a passer of dis-ease
who would execute my self, would
flush me like ***** oozing and
***** and ooze and *****
like alcohol seeping in the
pores would drown me.
Let Poseidan not make me defiled and let him not **** me.
Otherwise **** me.
© Sia Jane
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
Expecting two wrongs to make a right.
Always ending up in a controversial fight.
Once brothers and sisters, hand-in-hand.
Now benevolent, immoral and divided we stand.
Pointing fingers at the ones who speak Gods word.
Accusations of intolerance, as their words go unheard.
'Thou shalt not judge" is our new favorite line.
Never picked up a bible, but that verse sounds fine.
Picking and choosing what we want ourselves to hear.
Overwhelmed with uncertainty and plagued by fear.
Twisting Gods words to suit our sin.
Becoming charmers of the flesh, rather than fishers of men.
Making ample lies out of such divine truth.
While sabotaging the future of our demoralized youth.
Blaming a God we now deny,
Cursing the heavens and wondering why.
If God's a God of love why would He leave?
Like we're some sort of dirt brushed off from His sleeve.
He hasn't left, nor turned His back,
We're the ones who got off track.
Following our own paths to a realm of unknown.
Creating our own world, trying to make it all alone.
Forgetting who was created for who.
Not You for us, but we for You. ©
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
Anachronous monogamy
Schwarzenegger gets to the choppa
Invisible maliciousness awaits to those who
Explore the jungles, Danny Trejo just wants help
Crisis in the management takes two eggs to heal it
Two eggs, two dregs, two more lines to make it through
The day. **** like howitzers, snake in my trousers, wearing overalls
Doesn’t make me gay. Pig farmers, snake charmers, **** undercover, pigs
Make the best companions. Dead of night, chill or fright, I’m here so talk to me.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 12:34 PM UTC
Spirits, sages, mystics and wizards
shamans and charmers
voodoo, hoodoo...wanga and juju
and..
old old women- those teller of tales
weavers of dreams....casters of spells
Warnings of darkness and deepness
conjuring clues or readings
from spangled stars on black nights
Guidance on this spiritual journey... this mystical quest
Sunrise into sunset... dark into night
Answers to questions you never asked
Questions to answers
long buried in self shrouded past
There are those who would lead you
to dark alleys astray
Those who would steal your hearts diamonds,
your trust.. and betray
You hear whispers and rumors
strange tongues, and hushed voices... muffled sighs
You search for everything and nothing in the shadowy mist
What are true truths... what are lies?
Keep your eyes open..receive the whole
and know..
That real truth is sometimes
in the unexpected, the untold, the unwritten, the uncharted....
Like..
in the moment of exhale from one true kiss!
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
I wish I could use words the way a woman can
Not struggling to let go of each one
But pouring them out like water
A smooth steady stream to comfort others or herself
A raging torrent to wear away the most recalcitrant earthen lump
A sudden drenching that dumbfounds the dignity of the pompous
A steady drip that will break the coldness of self serving reason
The pretty, witty music that entices one to dance
The shrewish cackling mockery that makes you feel you’ve got no chance
The calm murmur that can reach the loneliest, most troubled soul
The endless seeming wittering that will always have its goal
Or perhaps her words don’t mean anything at all
They just break the surface of previously parched land
Making little bubbles that pop before they’re seen
With a puff of freshly made air
The tiny gasp with which life can begin
And even when she’s silent and alone
The words will not stop
Going round and round her head until someone can be told
Pressing to express her joy and stress
The wild life she struggles to control
The dear words she wants to give with love
Which may escape to wreak revenge or savage the innocent
Which may be used against her by ruthless charmers
With echoes of what she wants to hear or damaging quotes
Of things she said but no longer feels or means
So sometimes even the best of women may feel defeat
Beaten by words she said that have been ignored
Or twisted till the love has been choked out of them
And they come back to haunt her, weary little beasts
That she must contain all over again, even though she knows
That soon they and the thoughts they hold will return to demanding life
And she that was once their mistress will become their slave
And that is why though talking with women has been one of the great joys of my life
Though I love the verbal jousting and respect a sound tongue lashing
I still hope and dream of the time when the woman I love and I
May be together in wordless peace
Comfortable enough with each other not to speak
Knowing that the immensity of silence
Is easily filled by our mutual love.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 9:17 AM UTC
this society of ours is so gargantuan,
policed by the daylight we hold at night for ransom,
Like a Jesus or a black Aphrodites,
I'll be your daddy if you let me call you my mommy,
give me your milk, the nectar that forms at your eyelids
We can go out in public on a weeknight Ireland,
I won't drink, but I'll wrestle every penny you
throw into each fountain, unless each wish
you make puts us together in California. At 55º it's as
cold as it seems your heart is, you whisper the omissions
of lies over mute. Every silver trinket on this charmers'
bracelet abused. Be the freeway and I'll be the car, drive around my circles, and we can drive the map of the Hollywood Stars. This circus- paddy-wagon, sewer stardom, I've always been the over-roasted beans from your local Starbucks. I grew up to grow up, I got up to throw up, I sought you to show up, and give you this leigh garland. Egyptian or pitiful, critical mister 'are not.' My words were worthless and wounded by such ardor of this perfervid martyr. Enveloped by threading the eye of this tempestuous hourglass, just another sign of being extremely intolerable to the minutia, the worried, and nervous curse of being so human and the fear of being, quite heart broke.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
And the cor anglais
Plays
The snake charmers
Medley
In the oriental artifice
Created for you
And the jasmine soaked
Velvet
Of the cushions and curtains
Masks
The devotion
Engendered by you
And the blue tiled
Fountain
And Moorish arched garden
Cool waiting
For moments
Gifted by you
Jul 28, 2011
Jul 28, 2011 at 3:38 AM UTC
outrageously funny
the matters of the heart
makes clowns of us
when we play the part
the cast keeps changing
with the part
from stalkers to streakers
charmers to weepers
lovers to cheaters
playboys to loners
the cast keep changing
with the part
walking out of the theatre
of dead spectators
i think i played
each part
the cast was nothing
but only my past
and my heart
it plays no more parts
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
clue time game of bluff-man blind fuss of obstacles scold up my mind -(the-vermin-are-quite-rife) / portrait, ambitious portrait racing a train - broadsword toward - a fertile pocket of prissy death ;/ crown, fist and sprawl in the court of The Charmers sole hissy-fit upon your knees
Jan 15, 2024
Jan 15, 2024 at 6:21 PM UTC
We got the ocean breeze and the seven seas.
humming birds and buzzing bees
plant's and creatures
the beauty features .
farmers armer's and those midnight charmers
we have food not hard to search for,
kids who have to line at church door's
there'e are stores to by our sneekers others off to be a tweeker.
we get clean drinks with out no kinks it's the U.S.A with out no pay.
with a clean head, and a nice bed.
some call it lucky to live in a shed...
a different country roomate with a monkey ,
roof made of hay the dirt bed a lay.
we live like survivors , we search for our dinners , how is it made to be u.s.a winners?
with you're cool cars and movie stars,
you get ocupied ,
and well supplied...
what a cool plate i'd wish for in fate
you have you're singers we eat with our fingers.
you roll those dice and hope for some nice,
lets go find dinner and cope with some rice....
Look who's at bat and serving at war,
you're lifes just so hard with you're one choor.
I want MY MONEY!!!
HA!
thats shit's just funny...
_---Look at this world--
with a breef glance ,
Think of it more then some school dance.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC
Miryam walked with you
through Tangiers
miles from the base camp
still feeling tired
from the previous night
after the late evening
on the beach
hugging and kissing
each to each
not going further
that time
back to the tent
(your tent colleague out)
you and she
lay there
almost making out
but then he was back
and she had to leave
mouthing words to you
as she left
behind his back
then the morning ride
to Tangiers
on the back
of the truck
the smell of the city
the aromas
the people
almost Biblical
the snake charmers
the shops in alleys
the kids
trying to sell you
hashish on corners
and she held your hand
clutching her bag
with her other hand
her curly hair
orangey red
and she talking
of bags and clothes
and how back home
there was
so much more
to buy
and her hand
warm in yours
her small thumb
on the back
of your hand rubbing
as she walked
and you felt
and sensed her
and recalled her
a few days back
on the beach posing
for a photo
with a camel
and a Moroccan guy
in that skimpy
bathing suit
( giving the guy
the heat)
and you taking
the photo
with the borrowed camera
and she stopped
in a side street
looking at clothing
beautiful colours
and this guy
brought out
two cups of mint tea
while she decided
what she wanted
and you sat there
beside her
smelling her perfume
looking at her hair
and lips
and how she held
the small cup
in her hands
sipping
breathing
talking
her eyes
bright lights
her small **** pushing
against the cloth
of her purple top
and the tightness
of her jeans
on her thighs
and the whole scene
like something
you'd seen
in one of those
coloured pictures
in the Bible
the people passing
some with donkeys
one guy
with a camel loaded
and you watched
her sipping
her hands holding
the fingers curved
about the cup
and she talking
of what to buy
and you drinking
her in
all aspects
with your greedy
all too human eye.
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 5:35 AM UTC
We're danger stalkers
searching for the modest
at dawn in the garish part of this metropolis.
And my soul sprints
when everything is secure and sane,
and I want to stalk the danger again.
So I make meager attempts at blackmail,
to attempt to satisfy all the charmers like me
frozen in the frigid north.
because discipline is gobbledigook
in balmy compartments.
I have a charcoal rosette
taped to my chest.
Is it honorable?
It calmly smolders my heart
at this banquet with all my company.
I leave nonchalantly at the hazy end of the night,
-casually slip on my gloomy boots-
and build up my wails for creatures.
I love the heinous beasts
and stories of lad meets lady.
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
It's here with me now
I can soak up the universe
Into the needle
With a plunger
It's satanic charmers are going to the bowling alley
They are smoking cigarettes and talking about being human
****
If I am not the moth
slamming my full
weight against the lightbulb
at the bottom of your soul
I want to kiss you
and tell you that the universe is not a secret
It is right here in front of you
Words are sure strange hunh?
Ever think about it dipping its finger into the energy river
and it dripping off into black nothingness
The black universe
like an eyelid
like shadow
it becomes needle
and I am dead
Everything I am
bashed against the wall like a lightbulb
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
You are a drink of warm water come to fill
The void in my chest, ease its ache for
A desperately needed hour of rest,
His red hair and charmers smile
Set fire to the things I said about
Being so void I was numb,
Seems dumb now as heat
Rushes through my veins.
I think of him and his laughter
The next night and every after.
And how his broad chest and long arms
Protect me from all the pains
Of complete maturity.
He hurries to encourage me
To dance in the rain, and play make believe,
Maybe that’s how he got me to see
I could be happy, I could live in rapture
Created by captured moments of his touch,
Collaged out of memories of us
Like running across campus
Bare foot and key in hand,
Single piece of hair like superman.
Your hand in mine despite
Angry words misplaced and
The feeling of your chest
Rising and falling beneath my cheek.
Your eyes mean everything.
A Band-Aid across my brokenness,
Long desperate kiss
To fill my chest with butterflies
And play and bliss, no one means as much as this.
You are a complete twist ending,
To the way my life was spinning
And half my reasons to still exists.
Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 5:17 PM UTC
We got the ocean breeze and the seven seas.
humming birds and buzzing bees
plant's and creatures
the beauty features .
farmers armer's and those midnight charmers
we have food not hard to search for,
kids who have to line at church door's
there'e are stores to by our sneekers others off to be a tweeker.
we get clean drinks with out no kinks it's the U.S.A with out no pay.
with a clean head, and a nice bed.
some call it lucky to live in a shed...
a different country roomate with a monkey ,
roof made of hay the dirt bed a lay.
we live like survivors , we search for our dinners , how is it made to be u.s.a winners?
with you're cool cars and movie stars,
you get ocupied ,
and well supplied...
what a cool plate i'd wish for in fate
you have you're singers we eat with our fingers.
you roll those dice and hope for some nice,
lets go find dinner and cope with some rice....
Look who's at bat and serving at war,
you're lifes just so hard with you're one choor.
I want MY MONEY!!!
HA!
thats shit's just funny...
__---Look at this world_--
with a breef glance ,
Think of it more then some school dance.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
It's not actually a flower
It's a painting of a flower
No definition beyond
The flower's we see
Out on the lawn
Merely an image
Paint fumes replaced
The charmers scent
That once
"Meaninglessly"
Drew our mates
An orchestrated opus
Of wayward heart
Galaxies of lyric-less
Wayward stars
Glimmering
From who knows
Afar
Meaningless poetry
Is all we are
Why do morning dove
Insist to sing
Meaningless songs
Birds of prey scream
Blinding beams of sunlight
Reflect off mighty seas
Blinding our eyes
Yet still we believe
What meaning has
The giant ancient trees
Majestic mountains
Purple beauties
These impressions
Of nature only define
Meaningless poetry
That beautifully rhymes
.................................
Nov 26, 2019
Nov 26, 2019 at 5:15 AM UTC
the phases of moon devoir every night
I get more far away,
these days repeating themselves,
a miser might know better,
collective thieves,
and the charmers of the night,
just want to be better than yesterday,
yet the undeservings won,
but till when, until then
so many questions have been asked,
so many have got unanswered,
can this be called crescent
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 12:39 PM UTC
Be forever watchful for the charlatans , the snake charmers
of certain Baptist denominations ...
The monsters in need of jet airplanes to spread the Gospel of
their convenient , malleable Jesus that scour the Earth ..
They tell of Gods word in privy , ****** the elderly and the afflicted out of every last penny ..
Jeweled Temples built with iniquity , ever reaching for the clouds will find a scarlet termination , an incredible hard fall one day to the cold , unforgiving ground ....
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 7:43 PM UTC
Cocktail slamming
She grabbed him and reached for the sun
And returned after a while
Seeming like she had to tell me
Said she was the one who loves me
Now my nerves are all riled
And I just don’t know
Mismatch socks yeah, I know you
Won’t pay your late fee
As long as the snake charmers around
Temptation will **** ya
Fetish paraphelia
You wanna be gagged and bound
In the most intoxicating wine we will drown
Rain clouds come and heal this drought
Table for two
Room with a view
Thunder’s heavenly sound
Go down
To the other side of town
I know a few
That might be able to
Help us out
Insane romance
No more chances, you can afford
Another drink although you say you could
It really goes to show
Even though you’ve sworn
You’re not on board
And your judgments not so good
Let’s just wait a little while
I’m not proud
Of how this all turned out
Who could have knew?
And look through
And seen what she was all about
They count
The treasures they have found
Conclusions drew
Captain and crew
Discovering the world is round
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 6:06 PM UTC