(Insert witty blog title here) Charlie's

project updates, travelling records, random thoughts. teaching, travelling, designing, and the usual machinations people end up embrawled in.


When you suffer at hands given strength by your will
Who dares comment save the conscious at all?
Who gave the wrath, who offered the lash?
Who scattered the embers, which caused your fall?

Whose hand passed sword, bared the breast to thrust?
Whose eyes sealed blind, hears nothing, no sound?
Whose lips were pained, to betrayal of heart?
Who’s back to bare, limbs to be bound?

When given the chance to strike hot, it will be
Flee commitment, flee shackles, and flee animosity
When inflicted torment is little more than a siren’s call
Who dares comment save the conscious at all?

The first poem i've had inspiration to write in years.


A Silent-Screamed 'Okay'

A death knell, a single screamed-silent 'Okay'
Two syllables stretched across infinity, but merely a day
Trusting soul years to create, seconds to wither, die
Cutting words, vicious snarls break the mirror in my eye. 
As he wishes his own life to take
With such action, a second life to break.
The silent, screaming 'Okay'.

The silenced whisper, the finality of 'Okay'
Pulled from relation's wreckage with little to say
Selfish! What of me? A torn call to you
Quick to rebuff, hissed words and blinded view
Torn hurt by fierce rejoinder, leaving wounds bloody and sore,
Weary soul crossing his arms, little left of life within store.
The silent, screaming 'Okay.'

Don't think of it that way, the finality of 'Okay'
The boy, selfless by nature, yet rally, perhaps, may
Innate and good, a bird with a self-conscious song.
To call such a creature selfish, innately wrong.
Biting back retort, no wounds to inflict, a mistake
A lip bloody and thin, eyes staring, more to take
The silent, screaming 'Okay.'

Softly the shout in your mind, 'Okay'
How do I not make this worse? Care of an empath's breast
They've been through enough. Love, take care, rest.
Steal not my repose; make not my eye darken in fear
Allow not this wish to pass, nor my soul to tear.
The silent, screaming 'Okay.'

Some days, wishing the parallel of fates, to not hear 'Okay',
The shatter of mirrors, the soldering of heart
Fragile ties flamed, to wish us bound and apart.
Love speaks in silence, ever present in air
Which allows us to endure, no fate is fair.
The silent, screaming 'Okay.'

Your decree of steel, torn from depths of my heart, ‘Okay’
Spurned by glacial ice, a burn of heated hate
For one detested beyond life, perhaps could leave to their fate
Never one from indifference borne from fruits of care
Could wish death to entice to a sleep-dark lair
The silent, screaming 'Okay.'

I know. I'm waiting for the Call, a stolen response to 'Okay'.
Fare you well I could wish, staring t'wards yet another day
Our lives, so truly planned parallel, words still within heat
But for the sake of mind, should plan nevermore to meet.
A resolution, a wall, silence a fortress of mind
Preserver of hearts, eyes to film over blind.
The no longer silently screaming 'Okay.'



The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.”

So.. i'm working in madrid.


The hours are ridiculous and in split-shifts; the prep and paperwork required usurps most of the weekend, and you collapse into bed at 8pm some weekdays, but why should I complain?
Outside my flat (gorgeous) there are skips we use to chuck in random rubbish. every day without fail i see people rooting through the remains of the skip, flat refuse and my bag of rubbish filled with diet coke cans and the occasional noodle packet.

These people are so poor that, dragging a dirt-incrusted trolley behind them, anything can be of use. I even saw a urine soaked and smelling mattress, full of holes and stained with all manner of things, vanish into one of the said trollies.
I'm feeling not so much homesick as sad at my own reflections; that i feel within my selfishness i have a right to moan when there are people living like that right outside my doorstep. I can't settle in madrid, feeling i have left things unfinished in the uk and being unsure whether i will have paid off any debt at all by xmas, but also the guilt trip is quite profound. I could afford a trip back to see the folks; these people couldn't afford clothing.
Perhaps i should move into charity work..

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