Touched

After having a spiritual encounter, I began to write and as I wrote all the words seemed to come from another source. I knew that I was within a special place and this special place stayed with me for quite sometime and most of the writing I was able to capture. After it was all said and done and the feeling subsided, I was left with a brand new view or vision of writing that was stored deep within. I believe that most writers or artist understand what this phenomena is, but can rarely explain it. This is my encounter:

by Charles Sapp II

Face to face with the empty void of uncertainty,

full with endless possibilities.

Staring at the future with eyes of determination,

eyes wide open as a leap of faith has been committed;

the black hole of entirety.

The point of singularity encompasses the events of yesterday

through tomorrow with series of sequences.

Human chaos to harmonious order,

written to remember,

spoken to be felt.

Touched by her voice,

records of time fill the backdrop of space;

free falling faster than light can see.

History becomes now.

Shadows loom in the distance,

in various degree,

arranged by the highest concentration of purity from the original

divulged from memory.

The choice is yours. Tomorrow is the rebirth of today, reclaiming innocence.

Cumulative faith,

balancing of power,

to be touched through impenetrable walls

and feel the organism of life.

Slowly the descent halts,

a suspension to the ether,

crossroads of the divine.

The rest of these writings can be found at www.spoken1verse.com

New Blog and New Features

Where have I been in the last several months?
I have been toiling away at the design of my new journal adventure. I am happy to announce the launch of CharlesSapp.com ! This has been an enduring task to come away with total control of the way that I want to express myself.

The experience is quite different, I wanted to be able to express the hidden meaning and inspirations in my work. So, this is a companion guide to my previous website, Spoken1Verse.com which hosts all my poetry and music. It is also a companion to my published book "External Noise and Internal Silence," and the many other endeavors that I am pursuing. It is my plan to document a writer's progression within an indefinite time frame. All of us writers know that when we look back at our earlier works, we can see an evolution or transition throughout the moments of our lives. I will do my best to capture these developments via online journals, video documentary and a host of other interactive features.

In the past I have had many requests for obtaining my content, now I have made access to the material that has received so much attention. Thanks to my faithful readers. One can only say so much, I can only say come and visit, while there please sign my guest book, drop a comment or two, and sign up for my RSS Feed. I hope to see you soon!

Blog Recess During a Recession

I found myself apologizing for not keeping up with my blog, website and other future endeavors, but lets face the real facts. A brother has been trying to deal with this recession and life takes precedence. However, I managed to still plug away and write and record music during these times. I guess real soul searching tends to emerge.

I could not motivate myself, therefore, I took a 3 month hiatus to look inward. Upon this three month journey, I noticed that most traffic seemed to derive from Entrecard droppers. I began to realize that most of what was written was a waste, if people only visit your blog to drop a card.
This is not what I intended, I did not want be apart of the random generated blogs.

I was lucky to have a nice group of regular visitors that interacted and engaged with my motives, assisted with my book promotion and constructive criticism; I reciprocated the love back. I think that that is what I missed the most.

Superfluous Design

A collection of twisted signals
perpetual idiosyncrasies manifested to a bubble of fervor.

evaporated words lost in vapor
shrouds of ego disintegrate to reemerge victorious upon recognition.
superfluous design, immaculate perfection with hideous beauty.
treasure these fractions of time’s parting.

chronological dreams stringed together,
motion’s picture with no dialogue interfacing interaction.
graffiti on the walls of jealous hearts,
flamboyantly expressing its dramatic love and emotion.

full of sight’s gluttony, prohibited to touch.
to feel the outer boundaries of imagination, its surface becomes malleable
and conforms to interpretation.

this is what you’ve become,
exactly what you’ve always been,
the same way I’ve known you then,
is the same way you are now.

Change is Here

Art by Ben Heine

The Sun rose over the horizon and changed night to day; the birth of a different future.
The Sun rose today…

Change has been called out before in the past and has been answered in the present.
My ancestor’s voice spoke the words of change into existence, so that I may see them with my own eyes.

What I see is a man with a dream fueled by his passion and who looks just like me, telling me that all you believe, you could succeed. It is that seed of truth that I preserve and transfer to my future me; that what I’ve witnessed, you will soon to be.

History is the never-ending story, rewriting itself as a documentary of time. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. saw the future and spoke it as he envisioned it, as distant as his vision was, the illumination of its presence traveled many light-years like far-away stars, before it reached us, but now it is here so we may all see.

Creative Process

I was given wonderful constructive criticism about my poetry, which stated that it stops short from the potential it has. I could not agree more from the pseudo to the classic poetry perspectives, however from the beginning of this blog, I stated that I never edit my work, it stands for something and the creative process that imbues from it. The motive is the motion of emotion that transpires from the writing, when too much thought is put into the writing, it denotes the qualitative meaning as the relationship from the artist and his medium bond. I firmly do not disagree, all work can be edited into a plethora different ways, which could then alter the message entirely, yet you have a stand-alone piece of work that has deviated away from its original intent.

I titled this blog 1VERSE for the relationship that all accumulated writings are written under the pretense of 1 epic verse with 1 breath spoken into existence as time progresses. The original aspect is that the poetry I have displayed is equivalent to the scribbles, scratched out words, misspellings, crooked writings that are found within my journal; all in its raw form and element, just in digital context. I wanted to personalize the blog with a human touch without dressing.

I welcome and thank all open forms of constructive criticism, especially when it allows me to focus on how the reader interprets or follows my work. As I revise and edit the formatting of my writings for the upcoming book, I find myself more receptive.

Thank you for your feedback and support.

Triumph

Sometimes I like to look back to where I have been and map the progress of change and the bouts I have fought in the arena of life. I believe that this process is how we evolve as people and how the unexplained becomes explained. No matter what life has dealt us; if we are still here, we’ve prevailed.

By Charles Sapp II

The Sun’s tidal forces take over my body.

The Heavens and Earth hold dominion of my physical self.

My internal being shivers with recognition of loneliness and captivity,

until the awareness unthaws and breaks free from the molding of confinement.

The adventures of a new frontier await me,

as the sound of distant discoveries beckon my desires to investigate.

Eyes wide open in the dark,

scanning surfaces to detect a glimmer of hope, resting with inertia.

The strength of change,

emotionally transforms the human landscape as seasons approach,

where destiny reroutes its destination as we confirm truth from ideology.

My soul basks in nature’s light,

to absorb the current condition of existence

as it rains down with flash floods of awareness

where the weight of the world rests upon me.

At night the Moon consoles me;

she spotlights the key elements that make us dream

and leave the insignificant hidden in the dark.

The process leaves an open wound

and the reparation of mankind is symbolic to the healing.

I dive head first into the abyss of my body,

swimming deep to revive my drowned soul of the past

by breathing new hope and restoration of faith

into a body that has been beaten, bruised and cut by life.

My outer shell has toughened as my inner self has grown stronger.

Reality is what you make of it

and I realize that I am a hero to myself.