Charelle Landers
Bio
Published author, philosopher, business woman, and mother to six wonderful children. I find that writing is a healing passion of purpose and the ultimate pursuit to happiness.
Stories (25)
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The Government’s Treason
The government took more lives than any criminal I’ve known. Calling it a pandemic but death ain’t hitting their homes. Oil rigs causing cancer next to a colored home. No healthcare reform they wanna abolish what we own. Taxes on the rise that’s without representation, telling us it’s about black lives but they really just keep taking them. No convictions for killer cops, but they tell us the world changing. Athletes getting paid more than soldiers who’s risking their lives daily. The poor flood the streets from paper generalized evacuations. And I really don’t wanna talk about the food homogenization. The laws made for man but the government just keep breaking them. It’s really just a constitutional right of slavery. We’re not free we’re a number, sold off for some money but that’s just capitalization. If it’s in God we trust then the world seems faithless. Marching on the domesticated curses of liberations. The power to the people why we really gotta keep saying that? Protesting for protection from systemic racism. Can’t speak about love in a country built on hatred. The trespassing, the treason, the catalyst voted in office because it’s about power and greed yes. The man with the money make the power and power take the land, place us in contracts because they’re working for someone else. Are they really for the people, I think it’s economical. Waiting on Armageddon because god remains so powerful. Bowing to technology and the science of fiction, they got robots but no cure for the cancers that’s living. When is God gone get enough maybe this the ending. We are on borrowed times so it’s really the beginning. We need more fearless people to stand up to make a difference. The legislation isn’t for us, neither is any other branch of government that’s existing. Freedom never rings around here we’re still waiting on the bell, public school systems set up to make you fail. Jails overpopulated I know it gotta be hell. Where is the secret service because we secretly need some help. Calling out for the justices we fending for ourselves. Crime rate and gun laws a contract to our wealth. Mortality legalized when its contradictory to our health. Serial killers in offices masterminding their plans. On the front line greeting us without shaking our hands. Divide and conquer control and cease funny how every kid wanna be who they see on tv. Misled and distracted by the world’s populations. No leadership to trust because it’s all about that paper. Dead presidents on mountain Rushmore but we still sending them praises. Funny how we honor life in the death of our appraisals. Hollywood snatch your innocence then wonder why you hate them. Violence in the streets as we keep protesting for changes. It’s the silence of the meek that really has us blameless. Justice should be a reform and a congressional obligation. Peace is all we want and to be freed from the enslavement. America’s on our backs likes its a republic occupation. Death before dishonor, is not the land of the bravest.
By Charelle Landersabout 21 hours ago in Poets
Rule #4
Rule number four, pay attention to the details, never settle for a man because he buys you retail. How he treats you when he has nothing tells you everything he entails. The man in the mirror he hasn’t faced, no resells. He recalls information as if it was a transcription, gives you false hope as if you’re his last mistress, messages go unread, kids go unfed, but his team is full of bad bitches. He benches you, without pressing. Yet, you’re trying out for the team, with no directions. The questions that lingers in your head, self worth no questions. He’s already answered them, no repetition, the replies he made with the lies he changed, over the course of history, you stay hoping he changes. New face same victim, the vulnerable and innocent, robbing you of your sense of peace because your love was pure innocence. The scenery he creates, the masks he wears to fake, just because he’s dressed in designer doesn’t he doesn’t pay, the price you gave up, until he got his change up. He ran around town dragging your name through the mud. Rule number four dont sweat the small shit, details reveal why he can only fail, and the more he tries, rock bottom will be his sounders call again. A man’s best friend, weakened by the threshold of a woman building outside of his confinement. Lesson number four be refined then, gather yourself, don’t fall victim out of alignment. Walk in your purpose and let him find it. Better yet, boss up and get a man who found his. Rule number four never settle for less, just because he got a bank roll doesn’t mean it’s respect. Learn your lessons like taking L’s on the leader board, lead in all your ways and remember rule number four. How he treats you is a reflection of him, what you allow is the mirror you face, don’t be defeated by the makeup you chase.
By Charelle Landersa day ago in Poets
The Last Days
The Last Days Part I Kinsley clutched her throat and began squeezing harder and harder. As Lacy lay on the ground dreaming of mermaids. She couldn’t help but wonder as her mind drifted to darkness. The night grew silent, as Lacy lay on the ground lifeless.
By Charelle Landers10 days ago in Fiction
The Streets Talk
When the Streets Talk I heard him say “that’s all you get, when all you know is the streets.” I thought long and hard about the response. Reason being, that’s all you get when you choose to not want better. When you make excuses for ill mannered behaviors, using code words from the urban dictionary, robbing, and embracing terminologies such as YN, and YB, it automatically ignites a fuel to fight for change. Not just within myself or the community, but also inside the threshold of the world, whatever that may look like at the time.
By Charelle Landers19 days ago in Confessions
A Prayer
As we brace for change, let’s all bow our heads to his amazing Grace. In Yeshua’s name. May we pray. Dear Heavenly Father, I know you can see, the weight of the world has been heavy indeed, we need your decrees, your wisdom, your light, to shine abundantly in this horrible fight. We march, we scream all for our needs, we speak from our knees as we plant more seeds. More seeds of hope that one day, peace becomes the resting platform of the chosen. We search for essence, just to match our potential, been in situations that blocks our intentions, manifested in wholeness, tried to call on a breakthrough from practical emotions, yet still we feel defeated. Fighting in our Egypt, the wilderness is cold, you always see it, you gave us mama and a new fight for hope. We search for our leader to call upon our needs, not patronizing the fact that the pews need to have seats. Your alter was built on the back of your strength, your word, the creation that empowers this nation. I say father God, I draw near to you in these times with a heavy heart. Modesty and humility leaning on your conviction, the predictions, but everyone refuse to accept the premonition. The gifted left in a field wandering, knowing that the land is milk and honey, but hungry still. In the stillness of this peace, you’ve centered me to see that the cornerstone of rock bottom has been the alter to my callings, yet some refuse to retreat. Not fighting a battle that’s yours in deed, in my God like energy you bestowed upon me. You poured into the cup, it overflows from your love, your mercies multiplied through the mirror of your son. The sacrifice of consciousness, how do we imply wisdom, learn from the last mistakes it’s called repentance. I stand in intersession, not in the intersections, can’t rush through traffic you’re the only direction. The pressing, the oil, the refined testimony that’s already won again. We come to ask for forgiveness from what we did to your son, we come to shower the joys of love that’s given to us, grace and hope, happiness to be woke, desired to be love. We thank you for choosing us and we already know there’s no one else above. As long as there is the word there is law. And as long as there is law there is man, thank you Heavenly Father, once again.
By Charelle Landers28 days ago in Poets
Cute But Ugly
Cute But Ugly Society tells us we have to be bold. Yet, treats us badly if we speak too much. Society offers us limited beliefs based on a bias and a contradiction of ourselves. We need titties to be loved, sex appeal must match the drive of a man, we need a big butt, our insecurities plagued through ads and models.
By Charelle Landersabout a month ago in Humans
My Pen is
My Peace is My Pen Arguing happens again, the police at the door making reports of domestic abuse. Screams can be heard down the alley from my bedroom window. Gunshots ricochet from the bricks of my home, on the floor we sleep. We wake to see the damage, blood spilled in the streets where we played. Let’s see who can catch this football in the vacant lot of a church that supplied the neighborhood with supplies such as clothing and food. The neighbors running trap houses as kids wait for seven o’clock to hear Mr. Frostee tunes blaring from around the corner. I can remember begging for dollars from the locals just for a vanilla soft served cone. My mother always liked hers dipped. We get ready for dinner, another soulful meal prepared by the man and woman that loved us.
By Charelle Landersabout a month ago in Fiction
Give You - Give Me. Top Story - January 2026.
The Giving Hour I woke up ready, but went to sleep unprepared. I had no idea what the day would bring, in fact the day had started whacky. I had one sock on, my hair was a mess, and I had a cup on the coffee table.
By Charelle Landers3 months ago in Fiction
