March 25

I Like The Driving Rain

I like the driving rain

An angry pour

Spreading like a stain

Threatening for more

 

The grey is all pervasive

Stealing my peace and quiet

Making my thoughts invasive

Reminding me I‘m not the pilot

 

Damp rises

Flagstones cold under my feet

Rheumatic aches for prizes

Obvious to anyone on the street

 

Trees stand in the wet looking neglected

Bare mottled arms flex and creak

Yet under them I feel protected

Reassuring me it’s safe to speak

 

Meanwhile the earth drinks

Gullet full

Runnels at the brink

Submitting counterclockwise to the earth’s pull

As if it were travelling down my sink

~Charlotte Greer Slater  2.21.2011

Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry | Comments Off on I Like The Driving Rain
March 25

How?

How?

 

How does one make it stop?

How do you keep them from hurting you?

I run till I drop

But they keep getting through

 

You get lulled into a false sense of security

you think you are safe

you let go of your purity

and find that it only chafes

 

I am battered

I am betrayed

get in line

only to  be dismayed.

 

Won’t you let me go?

can’t I be free?

am I allowed to say no?

or am I succor for your greed?

 

Will you or any man ever admit his faults?

can I believe you when you speak?

I cannot jump all the vaults

only to come to the end and be meek?

 

Don’t you dare love me you traitor

You are not allowed to speak

I am cut as if by an abattoir

and I begin red blood to leak

 

You are not allowed my succor

you are not given my feast

you are cast adrift without pucker

and lacking courage of the very least

 

Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry, Hurting When I Write | Comments Off on How?
March 25

Hope

HOPE

 

I have hope

I have prayer

I believe what I need is

Definitely out there

 

I have heart

I have soul

I am smart

It takes its toll

 

I can almost breathe

Loosen the hold

My claws I sheath

I know I am too bold

 

I am in the moment

I hear birdsong

The sun’s ray sap me like a vent

But I still belong

 

It is a little after nine

I feel and look fine

I will not pine 

For what cannot be mine.

 

~Charlotte Greer Slater

4.28.09

Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry | Comments Off on Hope
March 25

Fittsy Valentine

On the internet they found romance,

That put both in a sexual trance, 

But each had a gripe, 

That it’s hard to type, 

With a hand stuck down in your pants. 

 

So they made plans to meet at the Rooster.

He bore flowers intended to impress,

The night ended up with creek water shooters.

And both in a state of undress.

 

Now words of love are often spoken

Between the man on the hill and the Southern Belle.

Their uncommon bond remains unbroken, 

And they can be found front porch sittin for a spell.

 

Now Marble Hill has seen its share of heartbreak,

But eventually by and by,

The partnership made for love’s sake, 

Might just give it one more try.

 

For my Fittsy,

Charlotte von Wolfle Greer

Valentine’s Day 2014

Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry | Comments Off on Fittsy Valentine
March 25

We Must Be Over 30

We Must Be Over 30

When I grow old
I shall dress myself in the artworks of my younger days
I’ll scoop them up around me to decorate myself
I shall rest on their piles in comfort
The life within them will reflect lively color into my cheeks
will cast a catch light in my fading eyes
My poems and prose, my photos and drawings
will tell the story of who I was, of who I still am.
I will repose on the life within them, my works, my joy
Their inherent verve will be my pulse
Instead of fading vitality, see the life and passion, the joy within,
the things that matter so much,
the sating fullness I gained from them,
the desperate importance I placed on the subjects within them.
Disregard my apparent senescence. It isn’t me.
My work – read it, look it in the eye, try it on, luxuriate in it
Sink into the images, visual and verbal
Let them swirl around you and take you to another place
That’s where you’ll find me –
Elegantly draped in their thriving essence
4/2/10
Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry | Comments Off on We Must Be Over 30
March 9

Unravel Me

Unravel Me

Unravel me, a distant cord
that on the outside is forgotten
for the river I continually ford
manifests a constant need ill begotten
The road is long, the memory slides
to the whole of my undoing
I put aside, I put away
I push it back to get through each day
And all I feel is black and white
and I’m wound up small and tight
and I don’t know who I am
Once again flunking life’s biggest exam
Mama needs for me to be okay
So like Edison I send the keys to me up the line on my kite
It is only my psyche to defray
as little me heads out of sight
He just needs me to behave
be the little adult and I win affection untold
willing child motivated by the attention I crave
Who knew Pandora’s box would unfold?
Parents who gave me the finest they had on offer
I am reminded their best is sometimes second best
So I became a little child busker
at my well meaning parent’s behest
Everybody loves you when you’re easy
everybody hates when you’re a bore
everyone is waiting for your entrance
so don’t disappoint them anymore
Unravel me, untie this cord
key to the very center of our union
all’s caving in and we have little to afford
the archive of our failures I do blazon
My façade has pushed beyond the brink
a delicate thing intended for nurture
Now into my abyss only I must sink
and retrieve the child on the poster
When the kite reveals little one riding the camber
and the floodgates do open
I will fight the urge to sail my kite ever higher
instead draw it in, allowing Perdita to burgeon
My sincere desire to attain contentment
my prize a beautiful family to lead
determined to make pleasant a remnant
It is my singular focus to succeed
For everyone should know how to cry
and no one should submit to such cycles
rejection should be saved for a later tide
and children should be little rascals
Emotions should be felt intrinsically
admitting parents can’t always be paragons
relationships should be cultivated from genuine honesty
and our true selves equipped with pitons
And all I feel is black and white
and I’m wound up so small and tight
and I don’t know who I am
with emerging emotion fighting the deadpan

~Charlotte Greer Slater 8.24.11

Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry | Comments Off on Unravel Me
March 9

I Chose

I Chose

Today I chose it over the ocean
Over the trees, their fall leaves
A hawk perched high on a branch
Over the chandelier of sunlight broken
By a cathedral of trees
On azure waves: over sweet smelling flowers
Shaped like teacups and trumpets
Over my ivy garden where I once dreamt
Today I chose the steeper path
I stare defiantly at God’s wrath
I dare the world to encumber me
For I shall chose to shed its weight
And dwell with the stars and moon
Above the treetops
With the owls and night noise
Today I found a reservoir
I chose to find the font inside myself
I will lie down in crocuses
But rise again to the treetops
With owls and night noise
To lift me high

~Charlotte Greer Slater 3.10.09

Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry | Comments Off on I Chose
March 9

The Ox

The Ox

Charlotte Greer Slater 8.21.2011

My feelings vacillate in a boustrophedon fashion
Back and forth like an ox plowing his plot
Except my plot is unknown and full of passion
Which leaves me increasingly distraught
All I write is amphigory
My thoughts a muddled farrago
Decisions with no boundary
As the ox and my brows furrow
Time is my advantage unexploited
Sadly unable to address my desires
By deep seated feelings I am haunted
Too deep for divining even from lit pyres
Steely resolve is my episemon
As I flail in my phrontistery hell
Loved ones cringe as they watch from the panopticon
As my urge to prove myself I do quell
The ox is a strong and dutiful creature
Sagacious he will never be
But I am compelled to end the debate by cloture
And set the dumb beast and I free

Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry | Comments Off on The Ox
March 9

I Know Your Secret

Hey Grandma, I know your secret
To be young and wild and free
I read your diary and see the gauntlet
I can see you screaming inside like a banshee
Long raven hair shines like mink
Eyes pale blue like mine
Youth and vibrancy completely in sync
Belle of the ball for all time
Your suitors were the pick of the town
Young beaus showed promise left and right
But your promised suitor let you down
Left you with a burden in the twilight
I imagine the fear you held inside
Every stigma haunting you and pressed for time
Your only shelter a man that could provide
Your choice in matrimony I can only divine
I wish you could forgive yourself
I don’t think you ever did
Please put your diary upon the shelf
You paid penance tenfold for the secrets you hid
Life is complicated and scandal is rife
We oftimes fail to hit the mark
Attempting damage control on our unmitigated strife
When left with ugly secrets in the dark
~Charlotte Greer Slater 7.5.11

Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry | Comments Off on I Know Your Secret
March 9

The Journey

The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice —
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do —
determined to save
the only life you could save.
~ Mary Oliver ~

Category: All of Charlotte's Poetry | Comments Off on The Journey