Biography of Charles Monroe
Mr. or Mrs. Charles Monroe II is one of the alleged 'Four Horsemen', whom are rumored members of the international Underground Academia known as the 'Ghosts Of DaVinci'(G.O.D.) , a 'mythical' ficticious society said to be a modern urban legend about a group of Poets, Artists, Muscicians, Farmers, Playwrites and College Students from every continent. While the rumors of the group's existence have never been confirmed nor documented, the Pseudonym Charles Monroe II is an actual client of an independent Los Angeles based writing agency/workshop through which the works are published anonymously by the agency's classified staff members. The true identity of Charles Monroe II or his or her affiliations remain unknown. All that is known of Monroe, besides a name and works, is a letterhead from his correspondence which reads 'Knights of Montezuma', which is believed to be a Los Angeles based writing society. Other rumored 'Horsemen' include Spanish Poet/Philosopher Paz de la Guerra, Poet/Composer Sabado Domingo, and a fourth unknown member who is rumored to be an A-list Hollywood Actor and financier for the groups projects. While all these allegations are considered rumors, Charles Monroe II is in fact very real and always pays in cash. Written by Steve Stephalonavich 2013 *The views and works of Charles Monroe do not reflect in any way the views of the author of this biography or his affiliates and was written as requested with the consent of Charles Monroe. All Rights Reserved 2013.
Charles Monroe's Works:
Charles Monroe Poems
An Introduction Poem
I am. That is all. I enter this realm In Peace and Humility With Wars under me.
Dreams Of Kings
When the hills and the mountains someday are made low And rough places made plain, and untended seeds grow When the peacocks take flight and the crooked made straight Until Justice rolls down like an avalanche quake
Seven Syllable Sonnet
Greetings from across the seas Readings from the loss of peace City full of Boston teas Pity-fool-less Constantine(s) .
I learned my history from Murals These walls of hardened mud taught me more Than the biased archives put together by the invaders. There is a formula for Colonization-
Lovely. Finally something somewhat relative To my competitive arrogant narrative. Of Judges and Nurses
So, so true When value is hidden God: the poet Soul: is written.
Remember me not, For the battles I have fought, But rather at peace.
In a world that's flavored acidly Wish they all would think like Cassidy But unfortunately for us All the world is colored puss.
Puss So Peace Is
puzzled skid row kids in blankets play with string-less tennis racquets Alleys seem comical; buildings phenomenal empty abdominal tables with dominoes
We are the Villains because we speak truths While heroes are silent Divided in groups.
Smoking In Los Angeles
No smoking signs are everywhere I look Except in the Kitchen; I smoke while I cook A hot-dog/ quesadilla with the white cheese That melts away all while I smoke as I please.
To Think With Invisible Ink
These words, to you, may sound absurd I Haven’t wrote a single word Since like September 23rd Oh how I miss to twist and shape
December children in inner city days; sun rays refuse me over silver aviators police are bees and we the pollen menthol minted breath conversations are held
'Yoga-Fire, Yoga-Flame! '
My fire is thermal And spreading in turbo Orange nocturnal Dark purple Inferno
Why do I write on the ugliest nights of them all?
And on happy days I write none at all?
To enjoy the happiness I seldom do encounter
On occasions, I do on occasions
But on ugly nights I just can’t avoid the sensations
Imagination’s infatuation with the dictation of devastation
I am happy if only for fractions of a second, yet, infinitely
I am lost and dumbfound