.
I share with you a story
committed to memory in my castle tower,
an amusing tale of Benjamin Deamer
and his three legged dog named, Power.
Benjamin was nine years of age
and most happy when helping;
Power was two years of age
and most playful when yelping.
Benji's Grandma had a birthday
and was born in 1926.
She is, one might say,
at her best while showing off silly tricks!
Benji had a great idea for her birthday-
bake a cheesecake for a picnic
and she is, one might say,
clever with using chopsticks
to eat, to drum, to play
for all of her critics,
and as Benjamin would say,
"She has many nifty little gimmicks!"
"A cheesecake it is!
I'll fill it with fruit,
and I know she'll love this,
if I write on it with a cherry on top, 'I love you'!"
Power and Benji had a blast
gathering all the ingredients in a glass.
Power nosed Benji, "Please?", for cream cheese
while Benji made a crust from graham crackers he smashed.
Power fetched three eggs
and squished a lemon with his paw.
Benji was preparing strawberries,
sour cream, sugar and all.
In the blender for a spin
then the real fun begins,
when they get to beat the cream light and fluffy
and add some sweet pumpkin!
When all was done
Benji slid the cake in the oven.
Power and Benji watched intently
switching positions every dozen
minutes or so that time slowly passed,
patiently waiting forty-five minutes;
…..when, with a Ding!, Alas!,
Benji and Power swooped in like two bandits.
He let it cool for a bit
and grabbed his mom's basket,
carefully wrapping his gift
in some cellophane plastic.
Power was surprised
at the strength of the aroma;
it was quickly advised
to fetch Benji some grape soda.
The cheesecake was perfect
and Benji knew grandma would be ecstatic.
Benji had to leave with the basket
and Power, his bouncing sidekick!
He skipped and he jogged
carefully with his three legged dog,
carrying his basket with no soda
but a half gallon of eggnog.
Halfway to grandma's house
Power took to chase with a pigeon,
darting into a work zone
with three feathers stuck to his chin.
Benji thought of the hugs
he was going to receive,
for such a thoughtful gift for grandma
that she wouldn't believe.
Power had his own plans
chasing a bird 'round that work zone.
He was a little freaked by those wingspans
and of his playful, young world unknown!
Benji stopped at a gate
whistling and waiting for Power.
He felt that this might be the bird's fate,
surely soon to turn sour.
From around a corner he dashed
into the lap of Benji!
The cheesecake had crashed
popping out of the basket so easy!
Landing in a square of new cement,
bordered by a thin caution ribbon,
Benji and Power had no comment
about their gift that had fallen
into that slab of thick cement.
They worried what grandma would think
of how much this gift meant
left only with eggnog to drink!
With heads down they walked
the last mile to her house.
Sadly, they cried and talked,
never louder than that of a mouse.
Power galloped up to grandma
with Benji not far behind,
sitting erect with tired paws
not yet relaxing to unwind.
Grandma reached out her arm
and pulled in a bummed out Benji,
saying to her grandson,
and his three legged charm,
"the world's troubles stop when you hug me-
and I love you with a cherry on top!"
-Mark Lach
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/shallow-buddies/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/magnet-5/
Now or never
whether we want to or not
they've got us by the balls
and though we built walls
to defend against these invaders of free will
we will need to be stronger
build our walls bigger and better than ever before
and let them kick out the windows and doors
we'll just brick them up and no one gets in
and no one gets out
and no one but no one knows what this is all about.
but the walls stay because they want us to rot
they've got us by the balls and all we can do is build more and more walls
and who wins in the end?
when we're all sent to Coventry with bags of cement so we can lend some authority to the people up there
and they don't give a damn
they jam us into categories with the same krappy old stories
that it's good for our health while they're spending the wealth that they stole from the miners and while they're dining on beef
we're starving
good grief
and they've got us by the balls
in glass coloured test tubes lubricated,dedicated to the rise of the monarchs
and it can't be for real
we'd never allow that
but laying flat on our back and winking eyes at the sun
is where this begun.
In the minds of the merchants and in the pockets of wise men
in the back alleys of bigots and bigshots
and what have we got?
you know it,
A box full of sawdust and a whole heap of shit
so the walls get a little longer
a little stronger
but they'll break us one day
and take us away to a recycle plant
and they'll plant us as seeds to service their needs
and their needs will get greater the later they leave it
there's a whole load of shit
a coming our way.
You felt a pair of hands
on your waist & a body
pressed up behind you
you know the outline too well
you fell into it
comfortably
like falling into bed.
Am I just another face in your clouded sky
An obscure vapor formation passing by?
Perhaps my desires are the same as yours
Beyond your horizon I would explore
Does human morality have you tethered?
Even I fare well in stormy weather...
My experiences span from fables to lies I fabricate
From animosities to the need to re-tolerate
I feel, I see, I know when I've been deceived
I love this life, its magical spells
I was forged in Heaven and raised in Hell
I am all these things and so much more
I hold the keys to many doors...
But most of all I like to sleep
And dream of worlds that exist in peace
Out beyond the stares where Darkness thrives
For I am merely a Traveler passing by...
I greeted future,
"Hello!" I said.
Future turned around and smiled,
"Hello my dear boy."
"Tell me Future, am I alive and well with you?"
Future frowned, "Young man you know
I can't tell you that."
"But Future" I cried,
"But Future why can't you tell me?"
Future chuckled and smiled,
"Because my dear boy that would be cheating."
I didn't understand what Future meant,
But then again I never understood Future.
Most times I find myself lost
Lost in times, places,
Held captive in my thoughts
It's ok it's ok it's ok
The grass helps me forget
As I lay absorbed in its warmth.
There is smoke in the distance,
Or is it right next to me?
I don't know anymore
Nor do I care
I just let myself go off most times
I love to go off most times,
As much as I loved my family
Who stood by my side 'til their end.
My dear sister was quite the artist
Quite the artist indeed
She had this distinct flight in her work,
Or was it flow?
I'm getting lost again.
These colors they did cling to each other
As if they've known each other since long ago.
I would get lost in these paintings
And would remember the times I saw these colors,
Like the blue in the bay
Protected by the army,
Like the brown windmill
That I climbed with my best friend,
Damn I forgot he was there with me,
Like the yellow in my dog's eyes
When she and I saw a man burn to death.
It's too bad Auntie hid those paintings
Beyond the basement.
My father died in the Korean War,
Oh captain, my captain
You failed to return
But don't fret
I raised my flag for you this morning
And every morning,
Waiting for your safe return.
You had dark eyes, right?
Yes, you had to have dark eyes
Only dark men have dark eyes, but
You did it for a good cause dear father
And for your country you swam on that iron boat
And died just like your sweet daughter:
Hanging yourself because you could not find success with your art.
Wait, that's not right.
Your art was success, Sun Tzu would be proud
Of your noble smooth sacrifice,
All the while taking on the pitter-patter of rain.
My mother died just now,
Yeah just now in front of my eyes.
It's weird to see her like this
All old, cold, and stiff.
Maybe she's nervous, don't know why
She's going to a good place.
Might just be the rigor mortis kicking in,
My mother was always a speedy one
Never skipping a beat
Or strum
Or note.
Funny for her to be sitting
Directing phone calls
Which would end up being lost anyway
Because no one knew how to talk back then,
Not after the Korean War.
There was one song my mom would sing,
Not sing actually just hum
I don't know what song it was
I believed she made it up,
Which was so brilliant.
Sometimes I would close my eyes
(Like I'm doing right now)
And insert words into my mother's song.
I would sing things like:
How long are you gonna let it rain
Shifting through the tides of pain
You lost yourself for good this time
Dear boy you got yourself a rhyme.
That's what music sounded like to me back then,
Hell it still does.
Guess that means I'm still lost then, huh?
I might never see you again.
I don't have a car, so I can't drive.
I have school and work, so free time is scarce.
But the night I spent with you,
Running barefoot on the turf field kicking and laughing
Kissing you before we went back to your place
Holding hands as we walked off the field and to your dorm
Turning on Entourage, not watching a single scene,
But basking in the adult content,
I was happy and I knew you were too.
I had not met someone like you in a long time
Someone who is dorky and funny like me.
I don't know the next time we'll meet,
I don't know if we will still be single.
I might never see you again,
But I'm glad I met you, if only once.
One day, when I awoke,
I remembered a nightmare I had that previous night.
I was at a school, a haunted school,
With a group of girls I didn't know.
They were there to release the spirits of three sisters
Who were trapped there by a mysterious phantom.
The first girl was named Clara,
She had hazelnut hair, hazelnut eyes,
A heart that could only be described as infinite.
She was the oldest of the three.
The second girl was named Nora,
She had a sense for adventure and heroics,
Her eyes only looked forward,
And would sacrifice herself to save her friends.
She was the middle of the three.
The third girl was named Mary,
She had a tame body and never really spoke up,
What she had in shyness she made up with her smile,
And she liked to sing and dance.
She was the youngest of the three.
We climbed up the fire escape behind the school,
The ladder was sticky,
We couldn't tell what it was because it was so dark
No one had thought to bring a flashlight.
We reached an unlocked door
That Nora keenly opened up.
Bella scolded her to be more careful,
But surprisingly Mary was the first to enter
And she hid behind the door to let us through.
It was me, then Nora, then Clara
As we entered a brightly lit hallway
With a door all the way at the end.
And so we walked.
Nora jumped ahead of me,
While Clara stayed behind with Mary
Who regretted her jump start.
So we walked down the hall quietly
With Nora making giggles here and there,
I would look over my shoulder every now and then
To make sure Mary and Clara were fine.
Mary held her hands behind her back
And was looking at her feet,
Clara was looking ahead with her hands together in front
She titled her head, and smiled.
For someone whose sister is lost
She seemed quite content with the people she was with.
Eventually, we reached the door
Which looked like a plain old door,
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary about it.
Nora haphazardly opened it only ajar
Because Mary shouted to stop.
Nora looked back with a questioned stare.
Clara took it upon herself to slowly open the door
And make sure everything was safe.
I just stood there breathless.
Clara called us over one by one
To the strangest wooded area.
A wooded area in a school
It was covered with black trees, dead orange grass,
And a purple sky with a yellow full moon.
There were no visible creatures,
Yet I felt like we were being watched.
We walked through the crusty grass
Whispering where we should go.
Nora pointed her finger to the distance.
Clara, Nora, and Mary marched ahead of me
All determined to move forward,
Although Mary let Nora and Clara walk in front of her.
At this point I realized
I was like a ghost to these girls,
I seemed more like a wish
And more and more
Like a wish to save them.
We entered a clearing
And saw the large faceless dark phantom
Breathing cold air.
The girls and I stood stiff
And the phantom took it upon himself
To come to us.
He stood in front of the girls,
All three of them were crying bloody tears.
The phantoms pat the girls on the head,
Comforting them genuinely.
He took them into his darkness,
And they disappeared from my sight.
The other day in therapy we talked about my fears.
She asked me why I was afraid of the dark.
At the time I didn't know, I've always been ,
But I've given it some thought and I've noticed
The dark holds untold secrets
It is something you cannot run from
When it comes, it is usually unexpected
And it envelopes you
Until you become enclosed in everything else you're afraid of
The dark holds your freedom
And refuses to return it to you
At night dark becomes powerful
Because there is no escape
No amount of light is bright enough to snuff out the dark.
The dark holds you
In an intricate web of danger and exposure to things unseen
Worst of all,
The dark holds me
And I, do not enjoy being held by things.
I dont feel your words
Not like a slap, or a sting
Not unless its fucking me
In the brain
Reminding me what you lost
When you were scared
I tried to explain
That I care, that I cared
Only now I regret it
I wish to take it back
I miss the smell of your skin
The taste of your lips
But not your slap
Or the harsh grab of my wrist
Your hands in my face
Lips in the wrong place
I miss the way your skin smells
Like adrenaline and old Hollister cologne
But not the sweat of exasperation
From giving me elaborate explanation
"I didn't mean to hit you so hard.."
But I haven't been here to care
"Did I give you that scar?"
Back then you didn't care
"Who the fuck have you told?"
They haven't been here to care
"I'll still love you when you're old."
We both know you won't be here to care.
