illusions of
escape velocity
for us became
placebos like
a gentle darkness
gumshoes into
disarray.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

searching for
a world beyond
the glass where
ceilings melt
into blue sky.

refusing to
surrender on
the outside
looking in.

shadows speak
of sacrifice like
work has never
failed and

dreams are not
an endless staircase
into hell.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

In Memory of Carl Sagan

his pale blue
sense of wonder
suspended
in a sunbeam

taught beauty in
the faint sensation
of our atoms
put together.

a legacy of
dust and stars
billions upon billions
of stars

I saw the sky and
endless possibility
stretch over me like
broken shackles
form the past

and we remain the
momentary masters
of a fraction
of a dot.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

music hollows
out an empty
heart and plays
its strings.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

She walks in starlight
Coming of age
In a riptide.

Her lone synth chords
Reminiscent of an
Open mic motel.

Burning multi-layered sound
We don’t fear the dark now.

There’s room enough for two
And Technicolor in a
Hot air balloon.

I can taste the comfort
On another world with you.

Delicate piano dodging
Missiles from the ground and
Candy playing on the radio

Can’t sing like we can hum
And feel the undertow.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

Beautiful Lies

Every day
and every breath
we take remains a
beautiful deception
like the promise of
black coffee or
lemon seeds in tea.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

we tell ourselves that
comedy is tragedy plus time
but we don't have the time
or patience for perspective.

there's only tragedy, the walls
are caving in, and laughter
left us with the breeze like salt
poured down our open wounds

hiding from the air
and breathing flames.
take my hand, there's nothing
but the waves.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

lightning never
sees its fire burning
the trees

absent and forlorn
as love can be.

I can feel your
thunder on the
mountainside.

we will tame
the ashes, fan the flames,
and the pray the sky
returns to calm
forgetful sleep.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

Just as dusk
became us
lingered in
the air
reflections
overwhelmed
the substance
guided by our
breath.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

Never stand still.
Move in a direction.
Even if you crash or fall.
Take an exit and get lost.
There is something happening
Inside your veins.

Adrenaline, blood, and
Metabolic energy
Fight or flight
Response toward
Gravity…

Spin against
The earth
Become your
Own rotation

Agitate and race.
Be anything but stable.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

scratch off
your disease and
match the dollars,
instant cash from
bells and cherries
like the drawings
of a whistle aren't
symbolic or a warning
for bottomless desires,
buried dreams replaced by
objects cheaper than a
chance or step into
uncertainty.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

Breathing doesn't mind the rain
It takes its time
Moving through your veins
The chill sublime

It takes its time
Softer, faster as we kiss
The chill sublime
We are in bliss

Softer, faster as we kiss
Soaked by the sky
We are in bliss
I hear you sigh

Soaked by the sky
Your lips cry out
I hear you sigh
Releasing doubt

Your lips cry out
Moving through your veins
Releasing doubt
Breathing doesn't mind the rain.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

I fade a little more
I don’t want to disappear
But some of us are special
And some can’t belong.

There are thoughts burned in my head.
I wonder what they’re made of
I wonder if they’re real.

I’ll never know the truth
There isn't any truth.

We’re all just misfits
And we don’t belong.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

Almost never was
what we became

somewhat tired
somewhat hungry
somewhat vagrant
huddled in the ether
of our aspirations

possibilities in ruins
like hieroglyphics
crushed into the rock
our song reduced to
ashes in the sand.

the something that we had
becoming vaguely mythical
and somewhat lacking.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

lifelike confessions
play out like make believe

your metal warms
against my skin
reprogramming resistance

fabricated sweet talk
counterfeit concern
become too real

and I am drawn
more willingly
than magnetized.

© Ben Ditmars 2014

rain falls like
streams of our
subconscious
in a dream.

she was no
small dream
but she has faded
like a song.

paint your
dream town
red.

everything is
just a dream.

fall inside your
rabbit hole and
dream of cabbages
and kings.

scream my name -
make love like it’s
your dream because
it’s my dream too.

sweat and breathe
emotions as our
dreams connect

we will connect
and move like tides
of some forgotten shore
where dreams exist
in layers like the sand
and we can live forever.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

Remember,
you are still alive
and live for every
moment we can't
change. Remember,
love, remember that
we are the change.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

defragment your performance
and collect the past
like marbles
rolling
in the backseat
of a mini-van.

your hands becoming
chaos as we grasped
at straws and questioned
nothing but

our silent breathing
and the stars we left
behind a crease in
the old bench seat
where I learned
your name.

like marbles in the mini-van
our chaos will roll on.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

Let go,
Let love
Define you.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

The world just wasn't made for dreamers...
who live in some lost place between
the present and reality
where words are currency
and thoughts buy bread.

stolen kisses last forever
in the porch light.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

I want to blame you
and remain blameless
because it’s easier to hurt
than be confused or
lost in your reflection
like the tide without a moon
brings shorter days and
darker nights.

we face the wild
shore alone.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

I wrote a tribute to Maya Angelou in 2010 that I would like to share today in memory of a great poet. Please excuse the dated references.

I Know Why the Twitter Bird Tweets

The free bird leaps
on Google’s back
and scrolls down page
till the browser ends
and dips his wings
in Facebook rays
and dares to claim the internet.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow page
can seldom see through
his lists of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his claws to tweet.

The Twitter bird tweets
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tweet are read
on the distant hill
for the Twitter bird
tweets of freedom

The free bird may watch tivo'd Glee
And order up some good Chinese
and laugh as Sue Sylvester drones
On and on of kids off tone.

But Twitter bird stands on the grave of tweets
Getting “trends” for Trick or Treat
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his claws to tweet.

The Twitter bird tweets
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tweet is heard
on the distant hill
for the Twitter bird
tweets of freedom.

Dead weight
Living on the edge
Of burden casts a
Shadow in the light
For flat broke dreamers
Strumming their guitars
On broken strings and
Poets writing as the
Ink runs dry.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

3D print me into
something real, impulsive
and distinguished.

successive layers
built around a
pulse and backbone.

fused electrons hardwired
to my brain like therapy.

we are broken and
the sum of our spare parts.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

there's so much soul
inside a poet that
it makes me wonder
how they use their bodies.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

Don’t cry,
our memories
are only one
reality.

©Ben Ditmars 2014