‘Confessions’ now available on Barnes and Noble!

Hey, Followers! Good news, my latest chapbook of poetry, Confessions of a Hopeless Romantic is now available on Barnes and Noble’s online site! Check it out now!

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/confessions-of-a-hopeless-romantic-charles-banks-jr/1120674597?ean=9781312467965

Also, if you’re interested in a copy, I am accepting payments via PayPal. If you’re familiar with the site, just send $12 along with your mailing address to spiltinkpoetry@hotmail.com, and a copy will be mailed to you!

Here’s the synopsis for the book, written by Poet Sonia Di Placido:

“Classic poetic forms combined with the modern confessional of free verse, these poems inhabit succinctly woven rhymes, verses and stanzas while professing the profoundest faith in romantic love–entanglement, desire, erotic sharing and compulsion. This is a “”hopeless confession”” filled with the irony of hope in love. Soft, gentle, fearless and shameless admonitions of losing oneself in the other are no threat. The delusion and sacrifice towards the profession of love remain an insignificant pleasure. The confessions here return to Neruda’s erotic–loss of self parallels and postulates entirety. Love resonates as the opposite of self gratification and self preservation. There are no boundaries. A poet speaks in tandem with the ancient scribes of Egyptian Love Poems–sharing an exotic papyrus of altruistic love.”

*As written by Poet Sonia Di Placido.

Here’s a poem excerpt from the book:

LILY
(For Leslie)

Still magnificent
Is Lily
In spite of this cruel, cruel world.
Even through this depression of sun
And repression of soil,
Lily is still beauty personified.
She always bats her butterfly kisses.
Lily, so graceful
In the aftermath of violent winter’s storm.
I am in her awe.
Gentle and giving
Strong and stern.
Others gather ’round her
They stare with appalling jealousy.
But when I look at her
I do so with lighthearted affection.

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.

Writing as Curiosity

Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr. Writing as Curiosity ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5 Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5
Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

Confessions of a Hopeless Romantic now available on Lulu.com!

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr. Writing as Curiosity ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5 Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5
Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

 

Good morning, Poets and Poetry Lovers! Today, Confessions of a Hopeless Romantic is officially available over on Lulu.com! And beginning in Mid-November, the book will be available for purchase on Amazon.com and Barnesandnoble.com! Check it out now!

http://www.lulu.com/shop/charles-banks-jr/confessions-of-a-hopeless-romantic/paperback/product-21839154.html

Here’s the synopsis for the book:

“Classic poetic forms combined with the modern confessional of free verse, these poems inhabit succinctly woven rhymes, verses and stanzas while professing the profoundest faith in romantic love–entanglement, desire, erotic sharing and compulsion. This is a “hopeless confession” filled with the irony of hope in love. Soft, gentle, fearless and shameless admonitions of losing oneself in the other are no threat. The delusion and sacrifice towards the profession of love remain an insignificant pleasure. The confessions here return to Neruda’s erotic–loss of self parallels and postulates entirety. Love resonates as the opposite of self gratification and self preservation. There are no boundaries. A poet speaks in tandem with the ancient scribes of Egyptian Love Poems–sharing an exotic papyrus of altruistic love.”

*As Written by Poet Sonia Di Placido.

Midnight (Writing as Curiosity)

Photo taken from the WEB.

Photo taken from the WEB.

 

MIDNIGHT

At the stroke of midnight
in the middle of winter’s bed—
Sophia.

The morning will bring an end
to our sweet affair—
The dawn, a curse!

Cloth of darkness, night,
please hide the sun.
His face reaffirms reality.

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5
Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr. Writing as Curiosity ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5 Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5
Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

My Dearest Sophie (Writing as Curiosity)

Photo taken from the WEB

Photo taken from the WEB

 

MY DEAREST SOPHIE

In spite of my greatest efforts
To ignore actuality
I am still able to recollect
How many sunsets have occurred
Since your departure.
Though, I have not seen
Any of these sunsets
Firsthand
With my biased eyes.
It would pain my soul
To visit our sacred place
Where the last rays of day
Helped to alleviate the burdens
Of our everyday lives.

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5
Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr. Writing as Curiosity ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5 Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5
Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

October 6, 2014

Hello, Poets and Poetry Lovers! I am excited to announce the release of my seventh book of poems and fourth poetry chapbook on October 6, 2014. It will initially be available on Lulu.com, and starting in November, on Amazon.com and Barnesandnoble.com. From now until the book’s release, I will be posting poem excerpts on this blog!

Here is the synopsis to the book, written by fellow poet Sonia Di Placido:

“Classic poetic forms combined with the modern confessional of free verse, these poems inhabit a succinctly woven rhymes, verses and stanzas while professing the profoundest faith in romantic love–entanglement, desire, erotic sharing and compulsion. This is a “hopeless confession” filled with the irony of hope in love. Soft, gentle, fearless and shameless admonitions of losing oneself in the other are no threat. The delusion and sacrifice towards the profession of love remain an insignificant pleasure. The confessions here return to Neruda’s erotic–loss of self parallels and postulates entirety. Love resonates as the opposite of self gratification and self preservation. There are no boundaries. A poet speaks in tandem with the ancient scribes of Egyptian Love Poems–sharing an exotic papyrus of altruistic love.”

*As written by Poet Sonia Di Placido.

 

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr. Writing as Curiosity ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5 Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
ISBN: 978-1-312-46796-5
Published by Lulu.com and Spilt Ink Poetry.

My New Book Cover!

Check out my new book cover!

“Confessions of a Hopeless Romantic” (Writing as Curiosity) is coming soon! Stay tuned for details!

 

Confessions of a Hopeless Romantic

My Guardian Angel (for Simone)

thPhoto taken from the WEB

My Guardian Angel

I remember taking that dreadful one-mile walk thirty-seven times. Most of those mornings were sunny. Though, in my mind, they were the gloomiest, murkiest, and haziest of my life. I remember the building, modern in its outward appearance, and the uninviting smell once I entered. I remember the patients that sat in the lobby who greeted me with cheerful smiles. But I quickly learned that behind those forced, almost customary gestures of kindness, lingered specks of doubt that could never fully wane. I remember the array of colored candy in the glass jar on the counter next to the magazines about all things cancer. I remember the nurse calling my name and taking that long walk down the bright hallway filled with medical certificates and degrees and pictures of former patients on display. I wondered if all the plaques and certificates were supposed to somehow ease my anxiety, and if the pictures of former patients who had come back to offer thanks to the doctors were supposed to give me hope that this moment in time would eventually cease to exist, someday. I remember the darkened room where a large machine sat in the center, and the chill of the slab that was attached to the large machine, and that god-awful mask, perfectly molded for my face.

Every day that I endured radiation treatment, I clenched the side of the slab with my left hand. Somehow, this ritual brought me closer to my guardian angel, Simone. She lost her battle with cancer a year and a half prior to my diagnosis, and in witnessing her rapid deterioration, a part of me died with her. The other part endured a similar fight seventeen months later. Simone did not have many material possessions in this life, and the few she had were kept in a black backpack as she traveled from residence to residence. She did not have a ‘home’ in the typical sense. Sure, she had children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews and sisters and brothers, and a host of friends and others she affectionately referred to as family. Simone and I connected when I was thirteen over a similar passion for books and tastes in music. I enjoyed how our casual conversations about the most mundane of things always turned into deep-rooted debates about life in general. She never judged me, just listened, and offered her suggestions. There were no proverbial walls, constructed by my utter distrust of people.

Simone was a cook at a small café in downtown Long Beach. And though she loved cooking at the café, she loved cooking for her friends and family even more. She cooked for her family on most every holiday. She had a gift for arts and crafts, always making homemade Easter baskets for her grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. She made the best homemade cheesecakes of all-time, too! Every year on my birthday, I sat and watched as she beautifully crafted a special one just for me. Her main ingredient was love, always love. No ulterior motives, no hidden agendas. Just love!
She taught me many lessons before and after she died. But the one that will sustain the tests of time, “You are not your condition!” She always said that. She never made excuses for herself, or allowed anyone to feel sorry for her condition. Simone was many things in her life: a mother, a grandmother, a sister, an aunt, a friend. But she was my guardian angel. I held her hand thirty-seven times on that cold slab, donning that mask, that uncomfortable mask. And I always whispered to myself, “I am not my condition!”

by Charles Banks, Jr. (Poet/Writer)

Announcement (3/24/2014)

Announcement:

It brings me great disappointment to have to announce that I learned on Friday morning that my cancer has returned, this time in my right lung. As of now, the only method of treatment is chemotherapy. I want to first thank everyone for their support in the last year during my first battle with cancer. I will remain persistently busy with work at Spilt Ink Poetry, diligently helping poets publish their work, as well as attending college. I look forward to releasing Spilt Ink Poetry’s Inaugural Newsletter in April, as well as working on the (re)publication of Melissa Medina’s first book of poetry. I am also collaborating on an erotic chapbook of poetry with Elizabeth Castaneda. Further, I have also signed on as an editor for Melinda Cochrane International Motivational Magazine: Summer Edition, 2014.

As I mentioned, I will remain actively involved in publishing, and I will reign victorious in my second battle with cancer. Thank you all again for your continued support, friends, family, poets and poetry lover!

Respectfully, Charles Banks, Jr.

 

cropped-dscf9444.jpg

 

 

Beauty of Butterflies

I remember walking in haste
One sunny day in May,
As many of us often do—
Unattached from nature.
It was chance, I guess,
Or fate, I assume—though
I’ve always relied on the empirical,
That I stopped by this particular garden.
Rich in flowers and bushes,
It was like having an optical orgasm.
I fixated on a group of butterflies,
Five or six, resting on a bush with
Strange flowers. They were striking
Shades of red and purple and orange.
I found a connection with them.
“Maybe I am a butterfly!” I thought.
Maybe cancer is like the lifecycle of a butterfly.
Maybe my life before cancer is like
The caterpillar before the butterfly.
I remember smiling for the first time
In ages it seemed. I had something
To look forward to, life as a butterfly perhaps,
Colorful and vibrant, after the cocoon of cancer.

© 2013 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
Published online at Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets.

The Love I Desire (Writing as Curiosity)

 

beautiful-lovers-couple-lip-lock-kiss-hug

 

The Love I Desire

Boiled
Passionate
Unsolicited
Exposed to society
Unscripted kind of love.

Disobedient
Indisputable
Repulsive to others
Fourth of July kind of love.

Defiant
Eternal
Dangerous
Living-on-the-edge
Risky business kind of love.

Envious
Seductive
Unable to fathom
Soap opera kind of love.

© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
All Rights Reserved

A Leaf Dried (Writing as Curiosity)

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A Leaf Dried
 
A leaf dried
Stepped on
Purposely
Scattered self.
 
Everything is dried
Parched goods
Loses life.
 
My heart
My trust
My reality.
 
Hope
Flutters by
Deserts…
 
A companion?
Another leaf dried?
 
Someone to share in the loneliness.
 
© 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Curiosity
All Rights Reserved