How I Won the War (By Curiosity)

HOW I WON THE WAR

It was a pivotal battle between the two of us…

The most decisive of all our intimate encounters.

Ten years from now I will look back on

This critical contest and I will marvel in my victory.

We attracted each other like

Negative and positive charges.

Cinnamon spice laid its siege

A gentle touch of Vanilla Musk

Stabbed my nostrils with a Swiss Army knife.

Sophia’s bullets of affection penetrated my defenses,

Almost paralyzing me for life.

I was guarded in my retaliation—

A cautiously planned counterattack followed.

My tactics… flawless.

They brought her to her knees.

A white flag appeared…

Perhaps it was a strategic ploy,

But it didn’t matter,

Because I gave in to her surrender.

She had never looked so desirable before.

Temperate touching commenced…

Then sinful sweating,

And melodic moaning,

Which led to hours of pulsating pleasure

On the campground.

2011 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as CURIOSITY

More Flyers (End of the Road)

2011 by Charles Banks, Jr. Writing as Curiosity This is a CAUTION TAPE POETRY chapbook! Artwork taken from the WEB

 

 

2011 by Charles Banks, Jr. Writing as Curiosity This is a CAUTION TAPE POETRY chapbook! Artwork taken from the WEB

 

 

© 2011 by Charles Banks, Jr. Writing as Curiosity This is a CAUTION TAPE POETRY chapbook! Artwork taken from the WEB

 

 

New Flyers (End of the Road Poetry Chapbook)

© 2011 by Charles Banks, Jr. Poem Written as CURIOSITY

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

© 2011 by Charles Banks, Jr. Photo taken from the Web

 
 
 
 
 

© 2011 by Charles Banks, Jr. Photo taken from the Web

Au Revoir (By Black Angel)

AU REVOIR

It’s Friday night—I scramble in my medicine cabinet

For some Motrin to munch on. I feel like swallowing

The whole damn bottle and waving good riddance

To the glitz and glamour of this bullshit that devours my sanity.

Nagging Mother, Father and all your expectations,

You can all have my defeated carcass if you want it.

In fact, you can even invite my most antagonistic protesters

To stand over my open casket and spit in it!

Then you all can share a sinister laugh of approval

In unison as you strut your gutless asses away.

Au revoir, finally, to the glitz and the glamour

Of this bullshit that keeps surrounding me

Like a greenhouse effect of perpetually draining poison.

I only wish I hadn’t unleashed my anger

Out on that defenseless, hallow door.

I don’t want to be that guy—but he does reside

At the pits of my existence—I assure you that much!

It should have been his face.

Yes! Yes! This realization rings true now.

The Motrin has awakened me rudely,

Just like that faithful day when my doorbell rang

And he stood on my front porch, a salesman

Selling some shitty dreams in an old ass briefcase.

Writing as BLACK ANGEL

2011 By Charles Banks, Jr.

Tonight, I Will Write (By Black Angel)

TONIGHT, I WILL WRITE A POEM

By Charles Banks, Jr.

I will write a poem tonight!

My pen will glide on the leveled

waves of this paper before me—

to explore the motionless

oceans of my mind.

I will sit to my desk tonight,

after supper, when all the children

have been tucked away—

When my beloved Sophia has blown

out the candles in the living room

and rests her restless soul.

I will look into blank space

and search for a glimmer of

inspiration—hours will pass,

unaccounted for; lost dreams

will suddenly float ashore.

© 2011 Writing as Black Angel