a poem,



Japanese jar recreated with g gold to be more beautiful jars of clay

Jesus enters death embraces decay then dies

healing is imperfect here; never, ever to be complete; go on

this tent will decay; but on eternal soul attached to your, our human body will live by Spirit

How can I live my the spirit every day?

listen to…

London women’s voices

‘ I am so happy for you

He sounds so nice, a serious guy

It’s only been a week

Yea but he sounds like a truthful guy someone you can believe…

… better get on that,’


overheard tube voices: partners

I give my
seat up

she nods, then a partner with her, standing,

‘So Friday we will do to Ambleside from Euston and have our getaway.’ We can leave ’bout 3?’

I am not leaving the -the Germany game. It starts at 5. Germany
Can we-Let’s go Saturday.

‘But we lose a day-and we have dinner reservations’

World Cup, Germany, France

‘It’s one game’

It is a semi-final. No.

‘I am trying to help you here I can work out the times’

‘If we leave Euston at



We are cutting it too close; I can’t miss the start. Cn you go to the dinner with someone else? I’ll catch you on Saturday? I’ll come then.

‘Can’t we…’

the next…Moorgate station


He leans over for a goodbye kiss,

exits; she


orphan, 1st draft

I publish the finished poem ‘orphan’ at http://www.charles.osewalt.com

This was the first draft


there is No one, No

as alone as a twin, separated at birth from their other

there is -no memories, no moments, no image of your other; there is only aching sorrow of an unremembered, intense presence

there only is a pain, a hurt, a lacking. an abyss of-sorrow remains.

it is that which all the bitter hate of a world can not fill

try as I might yearly, daily, momentary

perhaps, if I could find my other, we could fill sorrow’s abyss- together,
with our combined bitterness and

women’s voices. London 1

women’s voices on London buses, trains. Angry, low, fast and choppy. Never too loud. Phone voices, voices. And a non emotional voice ‘this is a Central line train to Epping.’ Calm reassuring. A sister’s, a mother’s voice.


I don’t know how many times I have to tell you

You moved the project and didn’t listen to

But Scott listen to the sequence and hear why I am somewhat cross with you


Yes tomatoes -then drinks?

The outcome needs to change Scott. Can you see my side? Listen-

‘This is Hackney Wick. This is the London Over ground service to Stratford the next station is Stratford.’

‘Mind the step.’

Hello B… I am yes are you ok I am going into Stratford and have a cab to catch bye.

Black tonight. Yes. Tonight.

‘This is Stratford our final stop. Thank you for riding the London over ground.’

Scott, good, so we

to do

to do

she touched him

No love

yet she touches, her guilt

her, her touch is forced by
failure, hers and yours

yours, yours

she, yours, cannot do what she cannot desire to


I fail

love love


can you, you, smell lovely to me?

can you think, express lovely thoughts with your eyes

to for me?

Can, can, you wear a strawberry sweater 

& offer free & total love, a moment, of

for all?


All hurts

All forgotten moments?


All Marla’s?  yellow hair, too long and beautiful for me?

All Mona Leo’s? an ache in her voice because she could not come to The Band on New Year’s Eve?

All Barbara’s? ‘the loving me, killing, softly?’ room 937? the hiding and sleeping the lost? itself lost.


what can I offer you? alone, a searcher? My name? Yes & also just

just my deep Deepest needs, desires

a moment’s moments

only only one moment. alone you, me alone or only

 my offer? me


I offer, I can do

do the same for and with you.

& and forgive, Forgive your hurts, your & my aloneness,

I am in with love, I touch

 your past- but I


I fail