Inheritance (Writing as Black Angel)

Photo taken from the WEB

Photo taken from the WEB

I originate from the land where everything goes wrong.

Devious children amputate the wings of butterflies

And trap them in glass jars with no airway channels.

Mothers with displaced emotions proceed with no warning

To strike off-spring with closed palms.

 

There is no hope in my hometown.

The streetlights fade out and shadows dominate.

Zombies run amuck, paying homage to defeat.

I am the only one who resembles a human being.

 

I originate from the land of the abandoners.

Selfish fathers ignore paternal duties

And go on long prison stints.

Ambitious brothers leave behind siblings

To give chase to the honey jar.

 

There is no hope in my hometown.

The streetlights fade out and shadows suffocate.

Zombies run amuck, paying homage to retreat.

I am the only one who resembles a human being.

 

© 2013 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as Black Angel.

Shadow in the Midnight

Shadow in the Midnight (Writing as Black Angel) was published online at Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets

Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets

Foot 3
By Charles Banks Jr.
(A Rewrite)

Black I am, and I am hiding
from the man with the black beater in hand
and the shiny badge on his chest.
He is relentless in his pursuit
of finding and locking me up.

I hide in the alleyways
with overflowing dumpsters
that have been neglected
like most black men.
I have never pointed the finger of blame
but now my hand may be forced.

As I see the truth
while knelt down on the cracked alley floor
avoiding the racist white cop
I have come to the realization that
life is unfair
and it never will be fair and just.

One of the many sad realizations
we have to face in America.
I never completely understood why
foreigners’ longed to come here.

Everything that’s printed in books
advertised in magazines, shot on film,
sensationalized in music
slant the truth.

People are not…

View original post 97 more words

Announcement (10/17/2013)

Hey followers! Two days ago I received an e-mail that informed me that three poems from my last book Concrete Promises will be published in an international anthology of love poems. I will post information once the anthology is complete. Also, I’ll post the three selected poems! It is always a humbling experience to get published, I admit. Again, thank you all for continuing to read my blog.

If you are interested in reading excerpts from my book Concrete Promises, feel free to do so. Also, if you wish to buy the ebook copy, head on over to Lulu.com!

http://spiltinkpoetry.wordpress.com/

 

– Charles Banks, Jr.

 

Concrete Promises (Cover)

 

A Particle in a Large Bubble (Writing as Black Angel)

Photo taken from the WEB

Photo taken from the WEB

America was founded on
insecurity, the ripeness of
darkened bodies dangling from
southern trees.
 
I wish I possessed a gun
loaded with the
proper knowledge.
 
The gun, invested
my soul utters deception.
 
I am alone in my journey
to find real truths.
Everything is blurry and I
remain blinded by lies
and media frenzy.
 
© 2008 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as Black Angel.
Excerpt from Angel’s Passion
Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.
 
Here is a link to the MP3 audio performance of “A Particle in a Large Bubble.”
http://www.reverbnation.com/blackangelcuriosity/songs
 
Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.

Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.

Urban Renewal (Writing as Black Angel)

Photo taken from the WEB

Photo taken from the WEB

I have a brilliant idea!
I don’t know why a person
more brilliant than I hasn’t thought
of such an idea.
 
Let’s burn down the infected city
and rebuild everything!
Start from scratch!
 
We’ll force all the negativity to either
die or squirm into the unknown.
 
We’ll burn down the schools and
venture home by home, setting ablaze
to all the pessimism in the city.
 
We’ll lead the charge into infected neighborhoods
and burn down gang fronts and hideouts.
 
We’ll walk the stairs of City Hall
and burn it to ashes.
 
We will burn down the Hall of Records,
obliterating all recognition of this town of infection.
 
© 2008 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as Black Angel.
Excerpt from Angel’s Passion
Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.
 
Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.

Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.

Throwing Out the Garbage (Writing as Black Angel)

Photo taken from the WEB

Photo taken from the WEB

The deception and defeated tanginess…
behind me.
 
Mistakes…
buried six feet deep.
 
Heartbreak…
a figment of my imagination.
 
The dream…
still afloat.
 
The tunnel of darkness…
I escaped.
 
© 2008 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as Black Angel.
Excerpt from Angel’s Passion
Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.
 
Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.

Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.

The Tunnel (Writing as Black Angel)

Photo taken from the WEB
 
Eight, seven, six, five
four, three, two, one.
 
The chance I’d been
fighting for my entire life
was upon me.
Directly ahead,
there it was!
 
Would I fumble my only chance?
 
Would I give in to
the temptation of quitting?
 
As I walk down the dark tunnel,
into the light,
the crowd noise increases
with each anxious step.
 
I don’t want to leave
the darkness of the tunnel.
For the darkness is my home.
The darkness has birthed me.
 

© 2008 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as Black Angel.
Excerpt from Angel’s Passion
Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.
 
Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.

Published by PublishAmerica, LLLP.