this isnt supposed to make sense to anyone but me

i wish we could've worked out...
i feel like we were closer when i was in
forever wanting of you
and you just accepted
without giving any clear signs.

why did you let me kiss you?
why did you take my love poems?
do you know how much that fucking hurt?
knowing you took it
knowing what i said
not knowing what you really felt

fuck it

i filled the hole you were supposed to fill before
i'll do it again
it'll be easier...
when i'm gone
and don't hear from you

i doubt you'll follow through
and write me
you did say you were bad at letters
i understand
i never wanted you to change
i just thought
you wanted me too

i've been wrong hundreds and thousands of times before,
i'll do it again

i'm following through on my promise
i'm not
being "emo" about it
i'm just mad
i wasted all that time
i wrote those fucking poems
some of my best
for someone
who never really got them
cause to get them

you'd have to feel it back

you'd have to feel it back
and i wouldn't be writing this

i'm mad that i want to hold you
and kiss you again
but i cant do it...
why kiss someone
you have no chance with anymore

it doesnt work that way
so i'm going away

i am not a player, it doesnt make sense to call me one

buhhhh

another backstory/dissection, elemental poem

sandpaper throat
desert inside my mouth
cuts like so much glass
making me weep
granite tears < this whole stanza came from a sore throat i've had for a few days. no it doesn't make me cry, but it hurts like a bitch

you are water
flowing, shimmering
slowly wearing down my points
into rounded sea stone edges
digging deep within me
until i become a canyon < then the poem became a love poem, thinkin about some random girl of my dreams

my stone exterior shines
quartz stone to be polished
by water
by you
we can shine
light reflects
refracts
making fire < i've always had a thing for quartz, and although i dont think its possible to have it reflect and make a beam strong enough to start a fire, the transfer from one element to the next was kinda important

we can burn down this forest
just the two of us
with friction
reflection
refraction
light beams
making sunbeams
ignite brush < the forest is a representation of stress and problems being burned down by our passion and combination. together the girl and i would make it all ignight

elemental chaos
and i'll weep granite tears
into your waters
as you wrap around me
softening my edges
the fire's already begun < this is to tie it all together. the stone tears, her waters wrapping in embrace, softened edges with flames... then the last line gives a feeling of loss, or should... because by burning all those things away, we've lost them.

just look at what we've done

the first of many posts like this i think

i think i'm going to post some poems and talk about where they come from and dissect the lines, so that it can give a little depth to the poem.

this poem began as an erotic piece, but as writing it i just left my idea n went with the flow making it a poem about the innocence of the relationship.

two bodies entwined hidden from the moonlit sky
cliche in simplicity and passion
everything else was forgotten
both time
and place
and pain (< this is where the erotic stopped)
they clung
two lost children
in the darkest cave (< this comes from the fact that outside my window there are bushes that have little dark cave-looking parts to them)
the mirror
concave (< i actually had to check and make sure this was right kind of mirror for the following>
reflecting
imaginary and
upside down
they are too far from the focal lines
to be focused on anything
but themselves (< i failed my physics class this year... it sucks)

but even in the darkest cave
other senses see sights
unknowingly
other senses see sights (< repeating lines alliteration help with)
never seen before
these imaginary
upside down
images
reflect in ways
you could never see
only know
with sights seen
by other senses (< separated third repetition to put really get the point in your)

come with me
to the depths of the darkest cave
you wont need your eyes anymore
we'll never see what we're looking for
these concave mirrors
reflect upside down
and imaginary images
only to be seen by other senses (4th appearance in this stanza i try to tie all the imagery together)

come with me
to the depths of the darkest cave
cling to me
and i will keep you safe
from all your nightmares
even yourself (< this stanza talks the reader have a hero complex and really want to save people. i don't know why)

poem about how i used to claim i could be a player, and how i regret that i am becoming one.

it took years
but i knew the
"i think i can"
method would work
this little engine that could
did

years of telling people
"i could totally be a player if i wanted to"
then wanting to
then succeeding
then feeling terrible
for winning my own game
shit

i just want what everyone wants
tender, love, and care
little TLC in the air
from a nice girl
who likes what i am
not

empty flirtations
with cold calculations
on success rates
and seeing strings to pull
goddamnit

this was not my goal
but i wont lie
and say i'm not enjoying
these escapades

i just wish i had time
and the girl
to fall in story-book love in
rest her head on my shoulder
and watch our hearts
embrace with little arms
and gentle fingers.

Poolee Training in the USMC:DEP

every time we have training, i love being around the other USMC:DEP guys more and more. the competition, the energy, the drive to succeed.
my only fear is failure...
but i wont let myself do that.
this is way to important to me.

odd bad habit.

i have this thing with ex-girlfriends. I like to, keep in touch, find out what they are feeling, how long its taken them to get over me, what kind of guy they date after me. I'd love to say i use this to then better myself but i know it is because i am a narcissistic poet with too much procrastination in his hands. Most of my exes are in good healthy relationships with whatever guy came after me, (making me hate dane cook even more with his fucking movie good luck chuck). Sometimes i use this trend to do less innocent acts, like pounce when an ex has been really sexual in her convo and try to hook up with her (because most likely i haven't gotten any since we broke up... i suck at hook-ups and pick-ups). i am not sure why i do this, but i do....
then i write poems on our relationships way down the line, and wonder if they ever read them.

Mesopotamia has cool myths

so i've been reading Mesopotamian myths after i bought a book of them at the Met in NYC. so far they are proving very interesting, and the most recent myth i've been reading, Etana, on tablet two, had an interesting tale of and Eagle and a Serpent.

From what i took from it, was the serpent was the obedient one of the pair obeying the gods while the eagle is greedy and betrays the gods punishment, ending with his imprisonment.

the story inspired these few lines:

Dear serpent, what has become of you
you're lack of greed
fear for the gods
kept you innocent
when the eagles attacked your young
slaughtering their flesh
you have now
damned your species
to be the betrayers
of man
of the one god
is this because the one god
was never your god?
Poor serpent
I forgive you
come out of your hole
the eagles are gone now
come out and welcome the day
with me.

wow that was amazing!

So today I received from what I have heard is the ultimate experience of being an artist in any form: Converting the Unbeliever.
I got told today via facebook chat and i quote:

"i just thought it was really cool how i just met you this semester and you've kinda changed the way i look at things like I'm more open to things that are out of my normal schedule and poetry until i read yours was probably not my favorite to read and i want to thank you for that because i feel like a different person than i was not too long ago"
this was from a girl i met in my English class.

so lets see, I've been involved in the poetry scene for only 3 years, and I've already gotten to co-feature, been published in a compilation chapbook, made and sold a semi-successful run of my own chapbooks. I'm still in my teens, and headed to a future filled with life experiences that will change the subject matter and way my writing grows.

I have dreams of being a poet full-time some day. Or maybe doing a troop tour with poetry...
Just a poetry tour would be awesome...
I think I might have to join a slam team first.
Or at least get some more attention from the pros...

Oh and definitely get better and grow drastically as a poet.
I'm far from skilled.

the first post.

so this account will be going inactive for awhile starting july 27th when I leave for USMC bootcamp. this is a warning to expect the inactivity.

For those of you who might read this and not know who I am, my name is Charles Xavier Lacerte. Currently a high school senior (graduating next saturday thank goodness!) then headed to USMC: Reserves, and Elmira College starting in January.

Why would I start a blog?
Whelp, I've done the online journal thing, and i post facebook notes all the time with poems...
I think I am going to use this to share stories, discuss my poetic endevours, complain about my life, worry about my finances, and things like that. I'll also be discussing my endevors into learning banjo!

Through comments I also hope to gain feedback about what I'm up to, and on my poems or whatever else I post. Feel Free to give opinions.