My New Artist Interview!

Good morning, Poets and Poetry Lovers! Check out my recent artist interview where I answer some in-depth questions about writing, my inspirations, and women I’d like to spend one night with!

 

http://ppigpenn.blogspot.com/2014/10/interview-charles-banks-jr.html

 

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All I Possessed After the Fire (Writing as Curiosity)

Photo taken from the WEB
 
The illumination of the blazing fire created
an amber illusion of my sentiments.
Brave firefighters ran into my burning residence,
but it was too late for my possessions.
All had been lost in the amazing house fire,
set ablaze by the unforgiving flames.
 
But one keepsake found a safety net
amongst the mesmerizing inferno.
The surreal image of Sophia’s exit
was that one lasting possession¾
every other had been burned to ash.
 
How could she have turned her back to me,
and showed the backside of her sultry frame?
How could she have been so frigid
as to turn her remorseless cheek to me,
disregarding the extravagance of our history?
 
I was in possession of one hurtful memory,
kept away in a tiny, jagged heart-shaped locket
that hung from a dulled bronze chain on my neck.
 
And as the illumination of the blazing fire
inspired my recollection,
I gripped tightly my one lasting possession.
 
© 2012 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
Excerpt from End of the Road.
Published by Lulu.com in Print and e-book.
 

Untitled (Writing as Curiosity)

Photo taken from the WEB

 
And October will always be the cruelest month,
for it homes the bastard child we conceived,
with a love so impure, it will surely doom our
unborn seed, who was nourished by hurtful deceit,
nurtured in the belly of a Judas.
 
The slit between madness and legibility has diminished;
my solace is restless these days.
It wafts in the drunken air that blows comfort into my poetry,
and drowns in a river of salty sadness.
I have covered the distance between madness and legibility;
and conquered the stripped fields amid,
a space where deprivation is acquainted with normalcy.
 
October will always be the cruellest month…
Now, my words are home where we once stayed together,
Sophie can feel the creases and wrinkles of me—
among my stanzas and around the curves of my honesty.
She listens to my murmurs,
She dwells in the lyrical content of my odes to her perfidy.
I, too, embellish my verses with her deceit.
 
…and October will always be the cruellest month,
for it homes the bastard child we conceived,
with a love so impure, it will surely doom our
unborn seed, who was nurtured in the belly of a Judas.
Now I die once again.
 
Inspired by Baishali Bhaumik Mitra’s Poem “Poems
 
© 2012 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity.
Excerpt from End of the Road
Published by Lulu.com in Print and e-book.
 

America’s Next Top Model (Writing as Curiosity)

Photo taken from the  WEB

 
Lean up against that prop and strike a seductive pose!
That waterfall backdrop will make a great Maxim cover.
Tilt your head slightly to the right,
arch your eyebrow, and relax for your million dollar shot.
 
Now our wardrobe director will change
you into something more befitting of a… Playmate.
The natural landscape will make for an exquisite
centerfold in Playboy’s newest Slut Issue.
 
Millions of men will bypass all the beer advertisements
and silly cartoon illustrations to salivate over
the gripping sight of America’s newest brunette beau ideal.
They will lose themselves in endless fantasies.
 
Hidden behind the mesmeric eyeliner,
The allure of your jaded eyes from afar,
The touch up of transparent blush for meaningful parties,
The Chanel shades you favor in the Hollywood summer,
are concealed truths that only one person knows.
 
I will play the role of heartless tabloid journalist,
and I plan on revealing every hidden truth
you buried so snug under your bedroom pillows
when you go to sleep at night to whoever will listen!
 
© 2012 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
Excerpt from End of the Road
Published by Lulu.com in Print and e-book.

Unhealthy Portions (Writing as Curiosity)

Photo taken from the WEB

 
Everyone wants a piece of me.
So take one,
Invite yourself for seconds
Indulge in a sinful third.
 
Use a rusted fork as your weapon of choice
Dig through the burnt crust of my heart,
Right down into the tart blackberry core.
 
But please make note of its bitter aftertaste.
You can blame my unfair Sophia for that!
 
She claimed to love me
But women lie…
They all lie!
 
Everyone wears masks
Everyone disguises themselves as allies.
 
So, please, take a portion of my soul,
Invite yourself for thirsty seconds,
Indulge in thirds, if there are any leftovers.
 
© by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
Excerpt from End of the Road
Published by Lulu.com in Print and e-book.
 

Male Intuition (Writing as Curiosity)

Photo taken from the WEB

Photo taken from the WEB

 

These gestures of purity are not wholesome.
I believe they accompany concealed motives.
Am I justified in my probing suspicion?
 
The faucet handle that dictates my tears is broken.
I cannot hold back my salty drops,
These transmitters of my growing apprehension.
 
See what you do to me?
See how you belittle me to such expression?
See how you give aid to my doubt?
 
These remarks of supposed reassurance
Do not calm my rapidly suspicious intuition.
They only chafe my distrust, Sophia!
 
© by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
Excerpt from End of the Road
Published by Lulu.com in Print and e-book.

How I Died (Writing as Curiosity)

Photo taken from the WEB

Photo taken from the WEB

 
One day, on the lowly terrace,
when fables and sugarcoats
left the Judas’ lips,
I died…
a slow, internal death.
 
Sophie!” I cried out.
I fell upon the cold ground.
She stationed over me—
with a calloused stare.
 
The last words from my mouth,
I struggled to utter.
I still love you… I always will!
 
© 2012 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as Curiosity

Excerpt from End of the Road

Published by Lulu.com in Print and e-Book.