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Charlie Harman Oct 2023
It’s not easy,
But not that hard.
Nor that simple,
Or that odd-

The craveable nature
of it
appears to be a human one,
though

It's not easy,
But not that hard.
Nor that simple,
or that odd-

Generally speaking: Passion
is hot
and calculations
are cold,

~If things stay repetitive,
Then how can life be worth living?~


It might be easy;
Perchance it be hard,
It could be simple
and it should be odd.
Can you grasp the abstract?
Charlie Harman Oct 2020
I saw you perched there,
Like a cat in a window-
Cliché to say the least,
but beautiful nonetheless.

Moonlight glinting off your hair
bathing the room in silver.

Change the 'in' to an 'and' and remove the 'n' from 'window'-
A Cat and a Widow, humorous right?
"The old cat lady,"
Imagine that, another cliché.
Gentrified geriatrics fill the land,
to the brim I might add, and,
'perhaps its time we make a change' I've said,
not happy nor glad
about the situation at hand.
Lil goofy short political piece.
Charlie Harman Oct 2016
Alcohol is the devils brew,
I will never drink beer,
I will never get wasted...

His breath is sour,
His voice is raised,
My cheek stings from a slap...

Poison spills from his lips,
Alcohol spills from his bottle,
Fire spills from his eyes...

Though I can't blame him,
His father beat him as a child,
He grew up with it...

Shut the **** up you mother ******* liar!
I didn't do it dad I swear!
Shut the **** up I know you did!

Running,
Panting,
Crying...

I fall in the snow,
I can't feel my feet,
My hands are bloodied...

Alcohol is the devils brew,
I will never drink beer,
I will never get *wasted...
Charlie Harman Jul 2019
Alone;

Ups and downs
Highs and lows

Amidst them all you are thrown,
Tossed and turned like a ship on rough seas

Wondering;

Mistreated and forsaken
Broken and ******

Yet wounded you stand,
Shining brighter than even the North Star

Why;

Beautiful and ******
Bruised and bandaged

Worn down to the bone,
You fight through it all with grace
For the one who despises old people hands
Charlie Harman Oct 2023
Clumsily, cluelessly, capriciously;
Varying walks of life, and such varied
ways of walking. Crawling and or quickly-
they advance through the concrete corridors.

~Completely unaware of the outside world
or anything other than themselves, for that matter.~

The issue lies in the wanting of more.
I've not much left to give and I'm sickly
'cause everybody's got their friends-big leagues.
From me to you, its not simple. Like harried
marriage; marred and probably charred, but

this is war-
~extra judiciously~
Sigh, I'll add more to this at some point, but I think its pretty alright how it is (for now).
Charlie Harman Dec 2023
Underneath the boughs
of the great birch tree,
sank the sallow woman
down to her knees.

From such a stance
I took a glance
upon that withered ghoul.
I spotted all kinds of things:
kings on strings and golden rings;
but thus, they took their toll.

She lived her life
with some strife, 'but as a whole,' she extolled
'I am simply a happy old soul.'

And so I strolled,
and strolled some more,
with nothing to my name.

Except the shoes upon my feet
and the stories from that ole' dame.
Another mediocre poem I'll probably edit to make better in like a year or two.
Twenty-four.
A number just one before
twenty-five.
A number that signifies
one quarter
of one-hundred,
-in this case-
years of age.

I've circled the sun so many times
that time itself has begun to blend together:

Days spilled into
                       Weeks cascaded into
                                                    Months plunged into
                                                                                  years; incalculable.

I neglect to mention that throughout it all I have,
in fact,
been vaguely happy at worst and genuinely blissful at best.

And so I say to thee;
If on your birthday you cannot breathe,
If every moment is lost with ease,
I implore you, see the cost of these
things-and learn to set yourself free.
24 Years old...It sure has been one helluva trip.
Charlie Harman Nov 2020
Wandering aimlessly-
things bend and break,
take a deep breath; at long last
lay thine soul to rest.

Eyes bathed in swaths of silvery moonlight-
Reflections of past days and future nights.

Functionally dysfunctional,
Beautifully broken,
Stuck upon clouds permeated only by the occasional ray of sun.

Two sides to every story,
Light and dark; sun and moon.

That's where I found you:

Balanced precariously on the tightrope that divides the sky and the Earth.

A horizon
to
call
your
own.

Unable to bend, unable to break, for if you did, the world itself would rush up to meet you.

Take a deep breath and take the next step, just please...

Don't miss.
Charlie Harman Nov 2022
An end to anger.
Call me jaded
but I don’t think
that’s possible,
though I’ve been wrong-

before-I could have
told you the difference
between happy and
existing. Now,
I’m not so-

sure-Enough, is enough.
Call me emerald,
‘cuz I’m still green,
but not quite right:
Like an off-

White-Tee, by Lil
Peep is a great
Song. I think
you might like it,
kinda like I thought you might like-

me.
Charlie Harman Aug 2017
Perhaps my queen a heart was never something you had, instead you held a ***** with which you dug your own grave. This Jack of diamonds in the rough patches of life still shone ever so brightly until you decided to club his dreams to death with your lies...

This simple game of cards is more commonly known as the game of *life.
Charlie Harman Oct 2023
Move quickly-
silently-
breathlessly:
Rage steadfastly
against the man,
the machine that
churns you
out into this world.

**** each breath
through the gaps in your
putrid yellowed-teeth.
There has never
been air quite as
saccharine,
believe me.

Let them devour you,
those reeking beliefs of yours.
Let them dismantle you;
the very seams you hold
so dearly-
obliterated by it.
Those hand sewn
patchwork repairs,
strong enough only
to keep out the dust
and to keep in the rage.
The title *****, but I feel like its the only way to bring these three ideas together (that I can come up with right now. I'll probably edit the hell out of it later). The Top=Green, Middle=Yellow, and Bottom =Red
Charlie Harman Jul 2019
Take for example, the way that the sun bends the sky to its will. Bright vibrant blues and soft orange hues;

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,

That’s what they always say.

Take for example, the way that the moon murders the sun. Turning those orange hues into its own black muse.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,

That’s what they always say.

To liken this cycle to life is to say that every day is the same, a nightmare which in the end, you always die.

The most beautiful thing of all though, is life itself.
Live your life to the fullest, lest you end up in a cycle of pain.
Charlie Harman Sep 2016
The wine stained his lips like
blood
His eyes a wild red full of hate
spills
He doesn't throw physical punches  
not
He hits emotionally and shoots holes in your confidence
just
Love is only a word he knows when he isn't drunk
from
His anger is your burden
open
What did i do wrong father
wounds
you were an idiot...
*it spills from your soul which has been shredded by the same people you cared about
Do you even remember last night?
No what happened
Nothing father its fine...
Charlie Harman Aug 2017
You take the hand of a liar who says that you were their first, but that hand has been held tens of times before you. Highschool hearts are exchanged like currency between people, the more you've got the more popular you are. Some get nothing, some get everything...it's just like at the carnival, but instead it's a carnival of love.
Don't ask me what this is I don't even know myself
Charlie Harman Sep 2016
Go directly to go, collect 200 dollars,
That isn't really how chance works though is it.
I took a chance on you...fell in love, with you...
You didn't take the same chance on me,
It was like you were locked in mortal combat with the words pain and suffering, and I was the bystander.
I knew deep in my heart I could change that if I tried hard enough...
I'm sorry...
It wasn't hard enough...
I still remember the night you called me up crying because you'd broken up with the one you "loved"
I remember when you said you hated me, I remember when you called me on halloween night and said you loved me. Just how fast my heart went when I heard those three words. It was insane.
I was insane thinking I could get you...
But hey I took a

*chance...
For the girl with whom my first I love you lies
Charlie Harman Jul 2020
Time ticks slowly by-
the nights end draws near,
and blessed be the ones
I never saw so clear.

For changes are a comin'
and this I know is true,
for me and you and everyone
on our sacred blue.

Lest we fail in growth
and life moves on the same.
we have not much in this world,
besides ourselves to blame.
#BLMISNOTATREND
Charlie Harman Sep 2023
~Driven to make decisions
that decided the fate of me~

~I've entered into twilight
Left alone with only debris~

~Believe me when I tell you
there is nothing - like being free~

~And if you ever hear it
That sound we've come to know,
there's nothing could prepare you-
-We've got nowhere left to go.~
Uhhh Idk...is it 'Funky Fresh?'
Charlie Harman Aug 2023
Good day, my love; how could it not be?
I've got you and love and everything
else that could possibly be in between.

For without you, my dear, I'd likely be bare-
A cliché with no subject:
No leaves to be spared.
.........................................................­.................................................................­..

You've speared me straight through, impaled one might say, and that makes it quite difficult to get far away. A fine sharp knife, that tool you named love, now tear me apart from below and above.
Because there isn't much left; time and all, but you'll pay for this theft no matter how small.

For with you, my dear, I live truly in fear-
A deer in the headlights of a fast moving car
Clichés abound everywhere-no matter how far.
This is just that goofy goober type beat poetry you know how it is.
Charlie Harman Jan 2020
Hidden beneath a silky veil,
Those eyes tremble with the truth.
Confused, lost, misunderstood,
These words you hold dear.

Perhaps it would be best if you stopped holding on,
Just let go-
Or instead perhaps you should grip tighter,
Holding on to a moment that will soon slip away;
Lost in a moment to the tumultuous sea that is life.

Confusion boils like water,
Though it does not evaporate.
It only hardens into mistrust and desperation,
But there is nothing easy that can be done,

Because the easy way out will leave only a void in which nothing but empty promises and white lies reside.
Charlie Harman Sep 2023
I've got a funny feeling-
~tingles running down my spine~
thoughts that leave me reeling
for all of nothing is mine.

Yeah, I have ****** it all up.
I made mistakes-too many to list,
and I know I overfilled my cup-So,
I wish I didn't exist.

Everything is slipping; falling;
careening into the dark.
I swear I heard her calling, but
I guess that's the end of an arc.
But at the end of every rainbow is a *** o' gold! (YEEEEHAWWWW)
[I'm going insane]
Charlie Harman Oct 2023
The totality of it; lost,
upon the moment we awake-
from the permafrost that is sleep
though this is only one take.

It must be a mistake, opaque
lies commandeered; drowned us
in our beds, downy lips have let
it slip-The truth? I hardly know her.

Moreover, when we castigate
our offspring, the ones we love the most,
we have castrated their minds at best-
at worst, the fires of hate, we've stoked.

So next time that you blame the youth
whose marble towers we've destroyed.
Ponder protractedly the ways
in which this outcome, you would avoid.
I work in a school, and we have absolutely obliterated these poor children's creativity and love for anything other than technology (tho, technology is to blame too, but so is the American school system).
Charlie Harman Nov 2017
Desperately* I tried to save her from herself,
She writes her suicide note in the blood that spills from her arms.
The rivers run red with the hundreds of cuts that form on her legs,
Her eyes fill with tears as she desperately clings to the life she once wished to throw away...

Please don't go I whispered to her the last time we spoke,
She turned around and whispered back at me...

You won't have to worry for much longer,
I'm sorry for the pain I brought you...
But believe me I am a goner,
I'm sorry for what I put you through...


So I desperately held her until she slipped away into the night,
When she held a gun to her head I prayed for the first time in my life...

Desperately I prayed to god to make everything right, I wished for him to take your knife, I pleaded for him to save you.

If I ever believed there wasn't a god, a part of me believes now.
Because what else could it be but a miracle that I woke up to your smiling face on my too bright phone screen the next morning...
Desperation leads to destruction and tears...to many tears...
Charlie Harman Sep 2017
Yeah we all got dreams, people tell you  to follow them to the ends of the Earth. The thing people don't tell you, those dreams can fail you and you fall hurt from the pedestal you put yourself on.

People say don't let your dreams rest with other people, but for me so far its working out and they are the one putting me on a pedestal not me nor myself neither I.
#totallynotpoetry #itstruetho
Charlie Harman Jul 2017
Angels arms open wide to receive the soul of those whose lives ended too short...

To the sound of a gunshot, the silence of disease whatever it may be it took them to early...

I've lost too many in this war known only as life. I have watched as their lifeblood drips from their fingertips and floats blissfully into the sky, coloring it a crimson red in the early morning...

He was too young, taken by death at the ripe age of 15...why I ask every morning as I remember the final smile I ever gave him wishing him luck on his math test later that day...

I remember the look on his face as we parted ways, it was one of hope, only to be dashed by the hell that we live in.

Taken to early he was, forever he will be missed...
I hope that your own personal star is glowing brighter than anyone else's Dylan...never stop shining up there...
Charlie Harman Jan 2018
Eight days a week he lays upon his bed of bones,
Filled with nothing but the ashes of his dreams.

Eight days a week she stands upon his grave,
Flowers in her hands for the one she couldn't save.

Eight days a week the memory of his smile fades,
From her poets mind come the blades;

Why him
*Why him...
Never forget the smiles he shared with you, for if you do then his memory will be lost...
Charlie Harman Sep 2016
Hate
What a powerful word,
What an
Emotional word...
You hate this and that,
But do you know what it means to hate?
You say you do...but do you really?

Love
What a powerful word,
What an
Emotional* word...
You love this and that,
But do you know what it means to love?
you say you do...but do you really?

Love and Hate,
Both strong emotions,
Both felt by many.
Charlie Harman Oct 2023
The common facade portrayed
by the majority of people
tends to be a **** poor
way of dealing with pain.

You know what I mean.

That mask that people don
as if it will save them,
save you,
from endless misery.

It doesn’t have to be this way-
It’s 3:06 A.M. And I can’t sleep,

****.
Charlie Harman Sep 2017
Across the sea my lover awaits me,
Its funny you see how many might agree.
Perhaps she'll run to my side,
She'll kiss me on the cheek and hop in my car.
Of course then we'll go for a ride,
Only stopping for a few drinks at a bar.

Upon these far flung shores my lover waits for me,
Just how long she'll wait we will have to see.
Wow i finally rhymed something haha.
Charlie Harman Jan 2020
Unconditional, Unintentional,
Yet forgettable in every aspect.
The only memories had slowly fade to Black,
Dwindling to nothing as dusk settles in-

Simple as that, forgotten

-Though from it's frigid grave the sun rises,
And your world is illuminated once more.
New memories to be made wait on the horizon,
But in the end you'll always be:

forgotten
A troublesome tempo
that I so coolly kept
locked 'way inside my chest
for far too long-
Brought forth in time, at your behest.

Those silvery eyes must truly be
like slivers of marbles made from the
dawn high. As if an angel -in perpetuity-
had plunged from the heavens
directly to me.

She is soft, like the beat of a butterfly's wing-
and her hair, it flows like water in the wind, though
the greatest thing of all
which will, or won't, appall,
is by luck alone I've somehow become her beaux.

And truth be told,
She's got me sold.
For Her.
Charlie Harman Aug 2019
Sly smiles,
Hiding miles,
Stabbing backs,
Hiding behind their stack;
Of lies.

These foxes hunt for prey too weak to fight back, taking swipes at those whose hearts are still soft and malleable

Fighting *****,
Lying mercilessly,
Unceasingly,
They are foxes...

The lot of them
Cold sweats-forgotten regrets
miscellaneous thoughts about
all of the rest of my ****** debts
that I don't even owe to you, or anyone else,
for that matter.

For this matter, it doesn't matter what I think
or what actions I take, or don't take,
wishy-washy is my middle name
and sometimes
-it feels like you hardly know me-
my greatest friend: anxiety.

You've ground my teeth to dust
and creaked my bones the last,
I've done crawled out of bed
-which for quite long you've asked-
Take a long look at all the nothing
I've amassed.

Lately my years, they've blended together.
An amalgam of my bittersweet thoughts
too tasteful so that taste itself becomes meaningless,
a blur of flavors, a blur of time, a blur
in the sole blink of a singular eye-

-General-eyes-d Anxiety.
The FitnessGram Pacer Test is a Multi-Stage Aerobic Capacity Test...
Charlie Harman Oct 2020
Thine soul is fragile-
Inorganic hammered steel;
A fabrication
Charlie Harman May 2021
How do I exist?
questions of reality;
At night and alone.
Charlie Harman May 2021
Hozier said it once:
“Sweet as cherry wine,“ lovely-
But wrong nonetheless.
Charlie Harman Aug 2021
A series of un-
Fortunate events, they say;
can change your whole world
Unfortunate or Fortunate, either way, something changes.
Charlie Harman Nov 2020
I've got nothing left
My mind completely empty;
Thus I drift to sleep.
Charlie Harman Dec 2020
What am I doing?
Living and breathing for sure;
There isn’t much else.
#****
Charlie Harman Dec 2020
Swept under the rug;
Forgotten-as if i had
Never existed.
**** rip
Charlie Harman Oct 2020
Church bells rung slowly;
A sound unfamiliar here-
In my sinful mind.
Charlie Harman Aug 2022
Sure, it smells like cat ****,
But it’s not really the process
That matters.

It’s the end result,
The final product,
That matters.

It isn’t so much the hair itself either;
Rather the person the hair grows on,
That matters.

Maybe it is a coping mechanism,
But it’s better than a mental schism.
Charlie Harman Dec 2019
The way the moon drips,
Losing itself beyond the horizon.
Whilst the sun begins it's ascent,
That's the feeling I've got inside.

I'm sorry I really can't hide,
Though you know for a fact I've tried.

It doesn't make sense to me,
How two people can crash together,
And immediately fly apart,
Both broken in two.

I swear it's not you,
I don't know what to do.

The world is falling apart around me,
Oceans crashing into shores,
Leaving wreckage in it's wake,
What is left is damaged;

Broken.

Mangled upon the beaches of life,
Stranded,
forever reaching towards the horizon.
Charlie Harman Dec 2021
When You are old, will you remember me?
The good, the bad, the best and the sad?
Because time passes by as fast as can be,
And I think I’m going mad.

The clouds drift, the sky splits-
fire and brimstone baby.

Little sparks light up the dark;
A dance of intangible ideas
trying to make their mark.
But the deal is-

Nobody wins.
Charlie Harman Jun 2022
I apologize,
I’ve been dreaming
Hopeless, helpless, defeated.

Close my eyes
Kept breathing but still felt empty.
Airless,
Breathless,
But never friendless.

I can’t wake up,
Holy ****.

Filling up my cup,
It just isn’t enough.

Anymore.

I need love, need care, need to lay my heart
Bare.

Hopeful, wakeful, joyous,
Emotions scarcely known to me

Yet still I stand,
A person broken down to their very beginnings,
Powerful am I, and powerful are my insecurities.

For I am me,
Hopeless, yet undefeated.
Or
Defeated, yet hopeful.
Charlie Harman Feb 2020
I'd rather not be

It the way your lips crinkle at the sides
when you smile,
or maybe the way your hair curls over your eyes
But something about you caught my eye from miles

away

I'm not really sure why,
Nor how,
Nor what,
Draws me in...

But girl whatever it is,
I thought I'd say you're beautiful.
But all that happened is this,
I just looked at you with a giggle

from

The deepest part of my soul,
Girl you're wonderful.

Its all about

You
Charlie Harman Sep 2023
It takes bravery
blustering about so
haphazardly, like
unsecured cargo.

Cargo whose entire
purpose remains as
simple as moving
between two places;
undamaged.

Yet you cannot even do that, can you?
Remain undamaged?
Un-shorn from your moorings?
No.
Because you are unsecured-

-Insecure(d).

Perhaps it is your
own blind bravery
bolstering your beliefs-
Or perhaps not.

Perhaps, it is your lack of
any pondered plan or
predetermined paradigm
that hangs you out to dry-
Or perhaps not.

But what I do know is this:

Regardless of pondered plans or
blind bravery, all that remains
is finding a way
to fix yourself.
Wacky Wild I be spitting these poems out way too much recently. I guess its because I've got the time, but idk, sometimes they don't feel all that creative.
Charlie Harman Jul 2018
Tears fall from the heavens whilst the angels bewail humanity

It's hard to watch the sun go down every night; the yellow and orange trickling beyond the horizon like a wounded animal, bleeding out into nothingness.

Take the moon;

Cold, tangible, dead.

It's only visible because of the Sun. The same sun it sends to a dark grave every night.

Much like the moon, a family cannot exist without two people, a mother and a father.

Much like the moon, love cannot exist without two people whose love is tangible through *I am in love with you's
and the occasional will you bring me some nugs im really hungry.

Much like the moon, a poet cannot exist without inspiration.

Much of which, is inspiration through sadness.
I am a writer.

A pen-born pathogen
whose purpose is to infect and inspire.
A teacher who might light their fires
or bring them up from where they're mired,
before too much damage is done.

The disease of apathy is running rampant;
a lack of care,
tons of resentment.
Their education? 'Tis seemingly turgescent.
They've survived by only a hair.

Unfairly they've been told
to do or die-
fit the mold. But,
I won't lie when I say
neither they, nor I, are sold.
Charlie Harman Sep 2023
Along thine path
grow flowers; shapes
and sizes abound,
but nothing could
compare to all
the things you've
found

along the way-
Egregious liar
born-again friar
that woman briar
all to the ire
of your mother.

Thus I admire
this walked path
of contest and
clashing, both of
the asomatous and true;
incorporated incorporeal-
ism, what else could you
possibly do?
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