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Jake Bentley Jun 2013
I rest my temple on the windowpane,
Not a thought in my head
save for the clouds in the sky.
Looking at greener pastures
Looking inside golden souls and ashen holes.
I want to find the right place, the right one
And I'll write to her everyday.

Refracted light while raindrops fall
A sunshower amid the cloudy nights
She glows, she glimmers, blinding to the naked eye
Reminding of the image in the corner of my mind.
She's alone, she's home, a golden soul in an ashen hole

Your heart you can hear, rejection you fear, you require more bear
To say the right things, at the right time, to the right one,
You overthink, your thoughts stink, is she the missing link?
Jake Bentley Jul 2013
Am I capable of so much pain?
Third eye shut, an illusion of fear
Nothing to gain?
I wish for the world to stop and to spin,
Instead of falling down under Him

Perhaps the cracks will heal with some glue
A couple staples, some scotch tape--
Good as new?
Pretending instead of mending I keep on the road
The grass is inviting but the signs forbid

Instant soup remedies the common flu
But what I need is a cure for you

Laughter calls me back from catatonic
A ripple of reality comes rushing in to fill the holes
I lay down on the grass, staring at the shapes in the sky
Why did I have to get so high?
Jake Bentley Jul 2013
Yes I was too forward for sure,
I whispered, I shivered, she shivers no more.
And I knew better than to go out into the cold
To battle the warmth with a stick and some stone
Perhaps later I'll retire to my home

Blue colors drawn on windowsills between the cracks
The recesses open up and swallow me whole
A vacant shell with no home and no soul
Jake Bentley Sep 2012
Bruised, broken, tattered.
Stabbed, ripped, shattered.
Eroded, exploded, and left to burn:

Searching,
For a calamity that may heal
For the sincere smile
For the meek glance
For an island in the storm,

Searching,
But still lost at sea.
Jake Bentley Sep 2012
Little freedoms in the in-between moments
To conquer grassy hilltops in the countryside.

A silence deafened in deep space,
That not even the constellations could illuminate.

The freedoms were in the journey they'd say,
But these horrors,
my memory would not entertain.

Darkness veiled the stars
As the asteroids pounded the sea.

While you siege my shore,
You will not bury me.

Perhaps I will crash and burn.
Perhaps I will stumble,
But the Hills may never claim anything 'gainst me.
I was trying to write a poem about my thoughts on nihilism. success?
Me
Jake Bentley Mar 2012
Me
I got unruly hair,
And I got a blank-slate stare.
I got electricity running through my veins,
Trying to make a break for my remains.

I got a heart falling out of my chest
And I got a night lacking of rest.
I got a paper full of erasable feelings,
Trying to break the glass ceilings.

I got spiders climbing up my walls,
And I'm making circles round these square halls.
I got a hazy, crazy memory
Trying to set the beast within me free.

Yet, I can't remember
What happened yesterday or last December.
All I got to my name
Are my words--which are all the same.
This is a bio--inspired by Pink Floyd's Nobody Home
Jake Bentley Jun 2013
Parliament's headquarters--Back alley for smokes n' such.
Politicians deliberating on the bread and the butter
While the starving go hungry and the Truth begins to suffer.
Never point to the signs on the wall
12 steps, Denial before the fall.

Consumerist, zombie shuffle back to the car, the market's full up.
Look for the polyethylene creamer. Metallic coated groceries
For the plastic (PORTIS issued) consumer.
"Coke is it" they would say as they take the morning grind (black/two sugar.)

Racists make the sea of Policy makers and warmongers,
Bathing in other's poverty, hunger and pain;
Fearing death before the climb, G-d before the fall
Slashing at the necks of basilisks until they turn to stone.  
Blind and petrified to the core,
I swear God, Parliament will smoke no more.

Comes along the Harbinger, you've got one new message.
Message one, There is no god, only me. I'm your Hypocrisy.
Cry to an empty thought, kid the kidders, sin among sinners.
Shamble back to Parliament's sanctuary, the legislators are in,
Let Smokes n' Such begin.
Again, wrote this while listening to Eyedea and Abilities, thoughts I've had and personal experiences (sometimes simultaneous) Some of the content is also influenced by White Noise (Don Delillo)
Jake Bentley May 2013
Feather tipped tree trunks outside,
Mother bird's gone to bed.
Hatchlings with so many questions,
Poachers for natural insurrection.

Hundred degree heat
Hundred degree heat
Scrambled-Sidewalk-Eggs
Jake Bentley Nov 2012
Halted ahead at intersections
Of three rows the cattle would gather
With blinking lights alternating
Waiting for the Sheppard to motion forth.

The congestion down their arteries
Chills the cells to an icy stop.
Iron bars on the edges
And mankind's cholesterol in the middle.

No escape from the blinking,
No movement away from the Sheppard cane.
Soon the cattle go to slaughter--
Only then may this blinking falter.
Jake Bentley Jun 2013
Close behind the film layer,
A lonesome creature finds happiness.

And I disappear.

I recede into my shell
Hollow for most of the may out,
You're going to have to break through my skin.

You can't reach me, I'm already gone
This time Id is in full control.
Jake Bentley Mar 2012
Ever since I was five, I thought I knew it all,
With one glance into the microscopic telescope,
I could see the whole universe.

When I grew up I learned to read and write,
And even at a young age I knew big "werds"
But never did I think at the experienced age of five
To stop and think if I was alive.

So I stopped to feel the world turn
And to see the clouds move.
Just for a moment to recognize the five-year-old surprise.

But I remember on that day, the Earth and the clouds--
The altercation overtook He,
And only then would I know there was much more
Than five-year-old me.
its very difficult to talk about my early childhood, and this is the best attempt I've had in awhile.
Jake Bentley Sep 2012
It was a drunkard
A lashed, mongrel affliction
That let you escape

The double stepped forth
He split the shadow in two,
He took me from you.

The sands fled from me
The ashes would fall beneath,
Waves went back to sea.
Jake Bentley Jun 2013
Sometimes she whispers,
A soft spoken word that soothes the skin,
A melody that cools third-degree burns,
A tear that drowns a sea of sorrow.
Her melodrama is contagious, infectious, and mesmerizing.

She sits at the red diner, twiddling her thumbs,
And you notice her downtrodden eyes.

You grab a sharpie and write on her hand,
"Loneliness is not a function of solitude,
And you'll never have to be alone."
She smiles as she interlocks her arm with yours.
And the result is pure ecstasy.
Jake Bentley Mar 2012
Like the shadow beneath the sea,
And the fin of the shark from under me,
There is a distant problem up ahead.
But I don't fear it; No, not today.

Like the dust that falls from the stars,
And the sand that glimmers, like the lights and cars,
I will remain like the celestial bodies before me:
Revolving around and around till they collide.

And if the city blocks out the lights,
And if the sun doesn't shine behind,
Just know that there might be trouble ahead,
But you could always replace it with hope instead.
Response to theme entitled: Trouble Lurking
Jake Bentley Sep 2012
Crumbling pillars of the Parthenon
Like the gods be praised,
Are eroding away to bread crumbs.

And as the conquerors came
To claim the land for the king
Were reclaimed by the gaping tide.

And the forays into memory
Bring back nostalgia,
Breaking into burnt Polaroid past.

The sea swept the tide from under me,
Gone are the gods and their kings,
Gone are the photos of useless things.
A new poem is long overdue, I decided to address memory and the past.
Jake Bentley Jun 2013
How could I ever know the thoughts in my head,
Pursuing for the sake of sanity, Vanity's own identity.
But I've never been one for superficiality,
An Honest Abe down to the top of my hat.

I keep fighting, making friends, making fears
After all, I feel better having just one than lost
Hiding from my loneliness, from solitude and anxiety
I keep seeking, searching for the man inside of me.

Just the King of Paranoia, afraid of his throne,
And the hounds bound to the courtyard floor.
Use those diaphragmatic breaths to calm your panic,
Therapist may teach you her magic when you seek medicine.

Sleepless nights alone with those thoughts,
The person in the mirror is ambiguous,
A fanatic for The Game, a Worshiper all the same
The twilight shade comes through the window
The King's cape catches the light of the dusk
The King's crown glistens in the dark of dawn.
I wrote this while listening to Eyedea & Abilities.
Content inspired by my own personal experiences, therapy sessions, psychological problems and concepts in IJ (written by David Foster Wallace)

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