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Charles liked a quote
Just Listen by Sarah Dessen
“There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your own heart. So you'd better learn the sound of it. Otherwise you'll never understand what it's saying.”
Sarah Dessen
Charles rated a book it was amazing
The Dream of the Marsh Wren by Pattiann Rogers
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Airborn/Hijos del Aire by Octavio Paz
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Charles shared a quote
“One of the Maenads Speaks to the Singing Head of Orpheus as It Floats Downriver”

How can I explain what we have done to you?
We heard in your voice the mad longing to be broken

from the body’s reins, to return to your beloved
and put your lips to the bite marks on her ankle.

For too long you held to the blue-dark loss
that laid beside you. Didn’t you know we were always

meant to lose everything? Don’t mourn. After love,
there is more love. I have seen it. One sigh held

by another, held by another. I kept your head in my lap
while the others took your body from you, their teeth

on your collar bones, fingernails plucking chords
from your throat. Death and madness can be the same

kind of deliverance. Flies are laying eggs in the wreckage
of your neck, but you keep singing. The rain lilies you pass

gather your melodies, so I uproot them. Nightingales
open their beaks to swallow your notes, and I stone them.

Love is a song you sing in search of deeper water.
The body, you leave behind. The music travels wi
Traci Brimhall
Charles shared a quote
Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair by Pablo Neruda
“ XII Para Mi Corazon (Your Breast is Enough)"

Your breast is enough for my heart,
and my wings for your freedom.
What was sleeping above your soul will rise
out of my mouth to heaven.

In you is the illusion of each day.
You arrive like the dew to the cupped flowers.
You undermine the horizon with your absence.
Eternally in flight like the wave.

I have said that you sang in the wind
like the pines and like the masts.
Like them you are tall and taciturn,
and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.

You gather things to you like an old road.
You are peopled with echoes and nostalgic voices.
I awoke and at times birds fled and migrated
that had been sleeping in your soul.”
Pablo Neruda
Charles rated a book it was amazing
Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
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Charles rated a book it was amazing
A Personal Anthology by Jorge Luis Borges
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More of Charles's books…
“From here on in it’s all epilogue”
Michael Boiano

Li-Young Lee

The ash keeps dropping from the incense stick.

I keep turning you over in my mind.
I keep turning you over in my heart.

The stick shortens, burning.
The ash grows
and falls.

I keep turning you over.
I keep turning you.
I keep turning.

The ash keeps falling, piling up, more
of the silent reduction.

Burning earns such clean wages,
eye of ember, eye of ash hastening.

I keep turning your eyes over
to find your thoughts.
Turning your voice over
to find your meaning.
Turning your body over to find
a place to hide me.

And you keep turning inside me.”
Li-Young Lee, The Undressing: Poems

Wendell Berry

I part the out thrusting branches
and come in beneath
the blessed and the blessing trees.
Though I am silent
there is singing around me.
Though I am dark
there is vision around me.
Though I am heavy
there is flight around me.”
Wendell Berry, The Collected Poems, 1957-1982

Czesław Miłosz
“Earth Again"

They are incomprehensible, the things of this earth.
The lure of waters. The lure of fruits.
Lure of two breasts and the long hair of a maiden.
In rouge, in vermillion, in that color of ponds
Found only in the Green Lakes near Wilno.
An ungraspable multitudes swarm, come together
In the crinkles of tree bark, in the telescope's eye,
For an endless wedding,
For the kindling of eyes, for a sweet dance
In the elements of air, sea, earth, and subterranean caves,
So that for a short moment there is no death
And time does not unreel like a skein of yarn
Thrown into an abyss.”
Czesław Miłosz, Unattainable Earth

“Aubade (Lisa Lisa Lisa)"

Sometimes I kiss the inch
of air above your body
warmed by your skin.
Or I feel your heat
from across the room
where I stand stiff
as a robot in the metallic
air of moonlight, hand flat
against the windowpane
as if to feel light pass
through glass. Why
am I still that robot,
aware of what I can’t feel?
If I say your name
three times my voice
becomes a meadowlark’s,
not the sad creak
of a mechanical man.
So here I am with wings—
here I am, a robot boy
and his dream of singing.
I watch you sleep and feel
the light cool against
my hand, my hand
that soon will warm itself
with your body
as I search again for what
I know is there:
a tattooed lark sketched
in the curve beneath
your hip, the notes
of a song trailine
around your waist like
the frailest belt,
“hymns at heaven’s gate”
that you and I can hear
though only at daybreak
and only as we kiss, preparing
once again to part,
promising to return.
I promise. Please tell me
you promise, too.”
James Harms

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