The Works of Charles Thielman
Charles Thielman is a Poet and Artiste, and a co-owner of an independent bookstore w/adjacent performance venue; which hosts readings, book-signings, fund-raisers and musical events. He has had works hung in galleries and published in journals.
Born and raised in Charleston, S.C., educated at red-brick colleges and on Chicago streets, He's worked as a corrections counselor, truck driver, big city bus driver and shiny shoe salesman. Nowadays, He aspires to be one of the best Grand-Fathers west of the Mississippi!
All Poems © Charles Thielman
Branch Given to Water
Dusk deepens the blue heron
stemmed shallows as souls
are ferried to riverbank.
Cairns sky-brushed white
wax blue-gray. autumn colors
and shapes sink, taken by the current.
Scraps of names tugged from war debris
swirl inside a clutch of memories
as I walk on
to jetty then shoreline.
Years of erosion striate a bluff
as the tide brings in another rosary of agates.
Each transient flange of rising moon
threaded stone to eye softens
a buoy bell's tossed clangs.
I driftwood trace peace a dove in wet sand,
sing vowels of loss
to the brown swirl of undertow.
The ocean is fed broken wings all night.
Hummingbirds ply the reaches of azaleas
in the sunrise hour as he considers
the braille of a dream,
opening the small window,
feet bare on kitchen linoleum,
brown grass below an August sky.
This afternoon will lumber like a bear
gnawing long moments into points of friction
while yellow dust spirals cross in shipping yards.
Factories silenced, layoffs have diced
many plans into blank wants, hard times
birthing stunned beggars at city intersections.
He reaches for the oatmeal, hoping
to fill at least three bowls, her morning
tea ready, one page of want-ads on the table.
A dawn-filtered lake of wind fills the yard,
dry leaves rustling like voices flying
needs out of twilight onto dust.
Dream-hands tumbling jade ovals,
he scans over their toy box
then plucks out two favorites.