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 Apr 2017 Ben At93
Traveler
Swirling winds of endless time
Slowly erode the weary mind
A mind programmed to forget
When a hundred harvest moons have set
When barn and wagon have termites eaten
Beyond repair to bear repeating
The sun shall turn, the earth shall set
When shadows of doubt become regret


Out here beyond few seasons
I bear the stains of logical reason
With eyes full of brilliant light
So as the devil out of mind and sight
Entities unseen, invisible beings
And the non-existing
Surely share a similar theme
....
Traveler Tim
 Apr 2017 Ben At93
Mary-Eliz
I could have loved you,
madman though you were,
would have been loyal
would have been true

there would have been no need
to struggle as you did
to find acclaim, acceptance
pleasure and comfort abed.

I’d have done ‘most anything
to keep you well supplied
with canvass, paint and brush
to build your artist’s pride.

I would have stayed near
loved your work…
your soul,
your all
and

you could have kept your ear.
 Apr 2017 Ben At93
Scarlet McCall
Your words were a
glowing ember
that kindled a slow fire
in the dead wood of my heart.

I could breathe oxygen again
and pass the spark
to another.
How can I ever explain it?
Not without a full disclosure
I will tell you every bit
Your kindness to which I demure

Soldiers fight their own private war
Mine to protect the Hill Tribes
Willing to suffer all the gore
All credit to them I ascribe

Upon arrival in Da Nang
I gathered my field gear and rifle
A mission with Colonel Vang
Preparation seemed but a trifle

My kind mountain Hmong Tribal ladies
Give a great gift to me, your sons
I will escort them through Hades
I'll teach them to ****** with guns

Wet their tongues in cobra's blood
I have come to save you from doom
The coming communist red flood
Boys already made their own tomb

We shall fly the flags of the Hmong
We'll rally boys from the villes
We must slaughter the Minh and Cong
The Hmong will have their own Bastille

I will take a dragon to wife
Boys will nurture in her foul breath
They will worship their ****** knife
We'll dance the ritual of death

I’m the lost soul forest monster
Others have come before today
They are pathetic impostors
We will flow through the night to slay

Other boys born beneath the palm
They have come to steal your life's breath
It's them that we target to bomb
I'll walk among you as Macbeth

My Duncan is among your kin
Banquo will haunt me til I rot
I will be fixed with mortal sin
Unable to wash away the spot

I will hide my hands from Odin
A conundrum in which I'm caught
Future will be among the Jinn
My destiny from this foul plot

Your sons buried in sacred ground
They'll not be stained with my darkness
Peace for them will be so profound
How many thanks can I express

Those boys in valor's selfless crown
From gallantry, their future gone
Sins I keep and can't beat down
For many years, I must atone.

I, far removed from battles roar
Do fondly remember those boys
Their smiles and laughter before
Stand out among life's greatest joys

No more the fierce warrior am I
Just an old man with memories
I am needing to just say goodbye
And maybe, maybe my conscience appeases
This is my lament.  It is extracted from my third life.
though I only own
one meager brain cell
it has through life served
me exceptionally well

of a singular character
in its decision making
not being influenced by
an alternate undertaking

the cell has always known
how to opine
there's a beauty in the way
it does clearly define

one cell of independence
not relying on co-dependence
of the tack only unto me
coming with a lifetime guarantee
 Mar 2017 Ben At93
Jasmine smiles
What can I say
That has never been said
What can I read
That has never been read
What can I hear
That has never been heard
Who can I say "hello"
Who has never heard "goodbye"
Who can I say "I love you"
Who has never heard "I hate you"

Everything is a Bittersweet Lie.
 Mar 2017 Ben At93
Traveler
And so starts
The day over
Never stay clean
Never stay sober

This is the death
Of all those cares
Subconsciously
Remain unaware

The bottle has been
An old best friend
A handful of pills
And numbness sets in

Just like no love
Just like no friends
And so starts
The day
Over again
...
Traveler Tim
This Poem has no real meaning.
I don't drink or do pills, that much...(-;

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_gvUjPxDuU

It is only an exercise in creativity
 Mar 2017 Ben At93
Traveler
Evidently I do
A Leprechaun Dance
It's actually more
Of a happy prance

I skip on one foot
And into the air I kick
Arms raised in a spiral
As I do a head over flip
Out of a tree
Off of a cliff
I tend to awaken
   Mighty stiff...
The Leprechaun Dance
Is a wonderful gift
...
Traveler Tim
 Mar 2017 Ben At93
Traveler
In an attempt
To form a confession
While lacking
Poetic expression
I put a tongue lashing
On my muse
Using words seldom abused
This and thats
With words that snap back
Now I'm really trapped
Not to mention confused
In this bottomless pit
Forcing words  
Without a muse
...
Traveler Tim
An exercise in creativity
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