Life Charlotte Poems

Charlotte kept the house cleaner than anyone else.
She washed and scrubbed and vacuumed until it was an obsession.
Her husband wanted her time, but she had...

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Gorgeous Charlotte was the goddess of illegal sex,
no restrictions applied to her naughty affections;
I met her last December at the Platinum Dolls...
she drove everybody crazy,...

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Charlotte and the bear came out of hibernation at exactly the same time.
The bear was irritable and hungry, and she looked tasty.
Don’t even think about...

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Charlotte Anne is an incessant talker
does not listen long
stays on track
back to herself no matter what the topic is
“I know. My family was a piece...

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I was a minister of the gospel, very happily living my life for the Lord,
Preaching the Word every Sunday, in the spirit of affinity and...

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Me: Say Charlotte, is your story true?
C: It’s fictional, now are we through?

Me: So are you rich from telling yarns?
C: I’ve got nice threads, but...

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She came back like she said she would.
Great grandma was not a typical ghost
She was a kindred spirit guiding for good
Just when we needed her...

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In early eighteen-forty-four,
In Cornwall’s heart; on Bodmin Moor,
Charlotte Dymond, a young farm maid,
Had her throat slit with a steel blade,
She crossed fast streams and deadly...

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In early eighteen-forty-four,
In Cornwall’s heart; on Bodmin Moor,
Charlotte Dymond, a young farm maid,
Had her throat slit with a steel blade,
She crossed fast streams and deadly...

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Act 4.

Marat

Where do these tears come from? My makeup
is melting in the spotlight. She has gone.
Oh, how I wished to tell her… I did not.
I...

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Act 3. A dark, empty stage.

Marat
(standing up)

My eyes went blank. That's how it goes when
you have been doubly knocked flat on your back
in half an...

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(A somnambulistic drama in four acts)

Actors:

Jean-Paul Marat; 
Charles Barbarou;
Charlotte Corday;
1st Philosopher;
2nd Philosopher;
The Commentator’s Voice.

Act 1. A tavern. Two philosopher sit at the table; 
Marat sits...

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Nostalgia captures my lone heart’s ear
as I drift along these mournful days.
Not sad for a life lost to death,
but of affections lost to time.

I’m fearful...

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“Perfect practice makes perfect”,  
Is Charlotte’s motto in life, principa:
She swims and plays piano, oboe, 
Loves musicals: Les Mis, Wicked.

Born without fully developed legs,...

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The chill of October--
Hanging from her web outside my window.
She does not move,
Although the air thrusts into her like boxer fists.
She stands steady,
The gray overcast...

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