#bvpoetry

[benjamin-vague]

Sweetling, Southern Tea

Strum the strings for me, sweetling, and

Let me sink into the sea between the things I see

And what they mean or seem to be, sweet as Southern tea,

And now wandering free am finally at ease with distant

Memories. Long on roads I’ve wandered without ranging very far;

Look into this mind of mine and taste the fruits thereof--the things 

I’ve seen, the things I’ve seen! how I wish I could forget them and

The woeful truths I’ve gleaned in time, trapped inside, all tangled

Up in miseries I tend to bend without effort into rhyme 

Without ever knowing why.

Seamlessly senseless,

Like a clock gone rogue from patterned time yet still circling, circling,

Like a moon in orbit pulling wilder tides. A fly and glue, never friends, now trapped am I (like they) in this story that just

Goes on and on and on;

It never really ends. And I don’t know what it means no matter

How much I think I see.

I want--need--deserve to be--gone from this;

Free.

[illuminationsandghosts-blog]

Prompt- Today I edited an old piece I found in my notebook

[benjamin-vague]

“Cradle me, silent, and be cradled. There is no lie

Between us if we never speak. There is only this

Stillness not yearning to be anything but what it is,

Full of love so eloquent of itself in this act.  “Is it terrible that I less fear your touch than I do

The parting of your lying lips?”

[benjamin-vague]

Listen Now, Only Listen

Listen now.

Silence seems now a greater song

Than any audible thing, wordless-ness

Vaster and more pleasing than any silver-syllabled 

Mouth. From laughter to books, from a flawed love

To perfect stillness, from a raving society to a society

Of one: my pleasure, my home, and my peace.

For one who turns from these things is not broken

But tired of a collapsible cardboard world 

Choked with collapsible cardboard

People. Silence needs no introduction:

Only listen.

[benjamin-vague]

A Pleasing Sort of Guile

Silence soothes me much more 

Readily than words can say,

And the sun across the lake

Takes my mind away from here;

My private kind of play.

I have elected to be

Lost and lost and lost,

Away from human chaos

And that ugly human way,

No accounting for the cost

And that’s the final say.

“Hello in there,”

The world cooed with

A pleasing sort of guile,

Selling sweets and knocking

At the door.

“Go away,” answered silence.

“He doesn’t live here any more

And hasn’t for a while.”

[benjamin-vague]

The Irrefutable Sum

This is the irrefutable sum: being.

Being what? Now that is refutable, arguable,

And worthy of questioning. Shall I be tall, or fat,

Or slender as a lily? Shall I be boastful and vain,

A prideful thing all wrought of rage and pain?

Or shall I be gentle as chronic solipsism,

A dreamer dreaming dreams dreaming dreams,

To wake and find them

Existing, themselves now irrefutable?

So this is why I work so hard at beauty,

At creating it and being it and thinking it,

Because if being is a necessity,

It is necessary for me to dream

Of beautiful, bountiful things,

Burgeoning from my pregnant mind

On thought-wings into seemly being

Too.

[benjamin-vague]

This State of Learning

To teach, learn. To learn, teach. Be a teaching a learner, a learning teacher. Learn that fear is a process of learning and not just its own end goal, and understand it has no ultimate purpose beyond what it allows us to turn from or confront. And then teach it to others. Fear is the departure of previous states of ignorance--it's the potential for that, anyway. It really depends on me, on you, on us; on which way we choose to look.

This is really all I, or you, or anyone can do. Fear allows us, finally, to understand that there was never anything to fear but our own minds. Either you will ride your fear into the darkness to create light, or your fear will drive you out of the light and into your own darkness--forever. Choose understanding before instinct. Please?

[benjamin-vague]

The Sound of Lives

Many of my loves went to play in the waters of the world. They frollicked and laughed, so lost in the sound of their lives. It was music. Some of them cried, and from this they learned. From them I learned too. But I, I wanted only to watch them; they were magnificent to me. 

From the shore of their lives they cried, saying “Come, come and join us! We love you so and wish to play!”

My heart beat faster at this, for it was beautiful to be thought of by these perfect animals. “But if I come,” I replied, “who shall record the sound of your merriment and loss?” 

They laughed and shrugged at this, for it was strange to them, though they knew they wished to be remembered. And quickly I was forgot, as I wished to be. The song went on, and I was able to listen. From this I learned. Such music it was! 

Such music, and I was able to catch it.