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 Aug 2018 Ben M
egghead
We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you
Heart.

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.
Inspired by the Vanity Fair article of André Aciman's reaction to his book *Call Me By Your Name* being made into a movie. Specifically the quote, "I couldn't write silence."
 Aug 2018 Ben M
Nuna
Unfinished
 Aug 2018 Ben M
Nuna
I spill my heart out on paper
Bleed words that I carry, unspoken
I write and write and write
I write just to cross it all out just to crumple the paper
And miss the bin

Everything’s unfinished
The poem,
The painting,
My coffee.
The phone call,
Our talk,
The text.

They say I’m too ******* myself
But how can I not be
When all I know is half
Never full
Never whole
I never seem to make up my mind

I change my outfit according to my mood
Cut and dye my hair to match it to the sunrise that keeps me awake at 5am
Yet nothing feels right

I have to change
be more of who I’m not
Less of what I think I should be
Others seek happiness
I seek change
 Aug 2018 Ben M
jt
Routine
 Aug 2018 Ben M
jt
Inspired by As I Walked Out One Evening by W.H. Auden

As I walked out one evening under the blanket of dark blue sky
Thinking about the week to come
Will the days be remembered, or rather wasted and forgotten?
Each tired child thinks the same thought.

Sunday nights slip into Monday mornings
Mondays slowly become Tuesdays;
Yet somehow the days become one
Each tired child unable to differentiate each day from the last

Wake up, brush teeth, brush hair, repeat.
Math, English, read, write, factor, and repeat.
Return home, work, eat, sleep and then repeat.
Each tired child thinks, “Is this really living?”

Stuck in a labyrinth of concrete
Routine forces every move
Taunted by the warm blanket left behind, only to leave a blanket of papers
Each tired child stares at the ticking clock.

Thoughts interrupted by bells at the same time
Routine consumes every thought
Each indistinguishable day
Where each child struggles to lift heavy eyelids.  

Same faces seen every day
Same places seen every day
Weeks blur into months, which in turn disappear in the minds
Each tired child fights every robotic move.

Closing doors and opening books
The teachers scream and roll their eyes
Where thoughts aren’t thoughts unless they are in Times New Roman
Each tired child strives to be heard.

As I walked out one evening under the blanket of dark blue sky
Thinking about the years to come
Routine is inescapable while spontaneity is a distant myth dreamt up in the minds
Of each tired adult who forgets what it’s like to be a child.
 Jul 2018 Ben M
b e mccomb
it's six o'clock
in the blessed am
and the coffee in
the bottom of my
mug is getting cold
the day is starting

with the familiar sound of
pen caps snapping on
and off sliding back and
forth in their plastic sleeve
she sits in her chair
in the dark only a tiny
blue light to shine on a
sigh here and there

i am fully made up
and totally cold
listening to the furnace
and snores that hum through
walls the scratching
of my own pen on paper

all is quiet before
sunrise
but if you listen
you can hear

what can you hear?
peace and quiet
close to that found in the
middle of the night
only less anguished
and more stoic

and so on this morning
we rise to our grind
rinse our cups
and carry on
copyright 2/5/18 b. e. mccomb
 Jul 2018 Ben M
b e mccomb
i fell asleep last night
buried in sand on a
soundstage sunset
all maroon velour and
puffy yellow cinnamon
maple leaf squares

the gold and rose
shimmer my eyelids
were made of ran
down in sweaty
rivulets that dried
into fairy freckles

and i was neither
happy nor relaxed
and yet i was
content

drinking silver wine out
of a deep brown glass
quietly and bitterly
warming my twisted back
until a white robed
bedouin breezed in
on a gust of his own
cool half of the desert

shook me to my feet
and told me that the
blissful gauze over
my minds eye
couldn't last forever
and i had better
catch a camel before I was
consumed by the night

so i handed him a yawn
with a ribbon round it
said that it was not my
responsibility to know
the history of the
ceiling fan by heart
rolled upon my stomach
returning to happier dreams

and still the bedouin
could do nothing but
stare through me with
sun bleached eyes
that pulled my bones
out through the skin
of my back and turned
them whiter than the
moon before the night
had even clambered in
on top of dewy skin
and blushing cheeks

and i drifted away
on an inflatable raft
into the night where
nothing could hurt me
copyright 4/25/18 b. e. mccomb
 Jul 2018 Ben M
Nuna
who am I
 Jul 2018 Ben M
Nuna
I'm an unfinished letter
a poem you would never read out loud
the cup of coffee you never finish
and the sweater you keep in your closet
unworn, brand new
the book you're forced to read
and the color that ruins the painting

everything that I say is far from who I am
don't believe my words
I know no trust
no such thing as simple or easy

there is no home in my body
run away before you're next I
will welcome you with arms open
you will be forced to stay
the emptiness will suffocate you
like it did me
 Jul 2018 Ben M
Nuna
it's been 6 years since you last seen her
8, since you last talked
you wonder where she is, or how she's doing
you left with no goodbye, no let's keep in touch

it's Sunday evening and you miss her,
sitting on your terrace wishing you could kiss her,
wondering in whose arms she slept last night,
you stare into your half-filled glass of coffee and notice the resemblance to her eyes, her dark brown eyes you never thought were special

all you can think about is the sound of her laugh and how she loved to hold your hand
you know on her shoulders she carried the world
she didn't have much to offer but she promised you her world
so fragile yet certain to keep going
a universe as big as this, she always talked of meant to be
I guess we weren't, you think to yourself

as you light another cigarette you wish you had kissed her
she told you she loved you and you panicked, letting her slip through your fingers and now wishing you had held on to her a little tighter
all you can think about is who else is kissing her, does she tell strangers about him and write poems about his eyes?

the sun has set, your mug is empty yet your heart is filled with regret and anger
you know you can't get her back now
you know you've never seen eyes as beautiful as hers,
you just hope she's laying in the right arms,
even if you're not
 Jul 2018 Ben M
Jo Barber
Blumen
 Jul 2018 Ben M
Jo Barber
Sun bounces off leaves,
hopping from branch to branch,
reflecting across the whole world.
Flowers bloom - red, blue, and green,
sending succulent scents to you and to me.

This soft breeze
floating from the bay
blows all my troubles away.

Book in lap,
Coffee in hand,
Please understand -

if I always felt this way,
life would walk with a much sweeter sway.
‪As I ‬
‪lie on ‬
‪the ‬
‪shore, ‬
I see the
warm
amber,
orange
and yellow
sunset
‪with a ‬
‪cup of ‬
‪milky ‬
‪coffee ‬
‪and a‬
‪paper ‬
‪notebook, ‬
‪I begin ‬
‪to write, ‬
‪I am no ‬
‪different ‬
‪than the ‬
‪words ‬
‪flowing ‬
‪as rivers,
and I soar,
as the wings
of seagulls
above,
‪for my
poetry ‬
‪is the ‬
‪ocean ‬
‪of my ‬
‪heart ‬
‪coming ‬
‪in waves, ‬
‪asking the ‬
‪reader to ‬
‪open ‬
‪themselves ‬
‪to healing, ‬
‪when truly, ‬
‪I am a drop ‬
‪within the ‬
‪universe ‬
‪of my ‬
‪everything ‬
‪and all, ‬
‪the lover ‬
‪of my words ‬
‪and the ‬
‪song of ‬
‪my soul.‬
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