He wipes the dried flakes of soil from his face as he comes to life.
He is called to his task in the air.
Rises, he rises.
With tireless love he takes his chair.

Angels touch his skin
Which glistens in the golden glow
Of an orb that burns eternal,
Or as long as lives a soul.

A new day begins
When Helio pulls the sun
In the employment of Saturn
For the service of all and one.

Would the world get by without him?
Would the day be ever long?
He never pauses to wonder
When he pulls his chariot along.

There never is a day
He thinks they should give praise.
Love means that he does the task
Without a question to be raised.

Rarely given Helio
Is a thanking for the light;
For bringing them the sun
Until the time of night.

Beauty is a fallacy.
It makes sense to us,
but who has the right to
determine it?

The majority of the
Population perceives that
they are given that right,
for beauty has been twisted,
manipulated and barbed into
a wire that is toxic and
vehemently grotesque.

Beauty is subjective,
Its core isn’t objective.
We like to think it is,
but in reality, in notions,
in principles, and in practices
it is not

For beauty is determined by grace,
by elegance, and most importantly looks.

Beauty of thought and process
is highly disregarded.
It has become but a mere
illusion, barren in both
the intricacy of reality and truth.

Beauty is subjective, yet
it is determined by predispositions
and implicit standards that
originated many years ago,
yet these originated ideals
still reign supreme today.

Beauty is far more than
an outward façade,
For beauty is truth,
beauty is compassion,
beauty is knowledge
beauty is humility.

their love isn't their own
it isn't a shared moment
like the rest who follow the
straight narrative.

they steal their kisses behind
doors, buildings, alleys,
places people wouldn't pay them any mind.
they flinch in fear.
Afraid to be seen, afraid to show
who they love.

their love is already decided.
They're birthed to follow
the straight narrative.
Having to be with someone,
their heart doesn't desire.
To be what others want.
To be safe.

Their love is too ethereal
for the people who hate them
to ever understand.

Their love is too different
for others to synthesize.
Their love is pure, wild, and spirited.
For they don't follow the bounds
or the narratives
Society has implemented.

As wild and pure and spirited as
their love is. They still
have to hide.
Afraid of isolation
and persecution.
Afraid of loving who
their heart aches for.

The boughs of a placid embassy
fall flat when the citizens
become the crumbling pillars
that hold up the already fractured foundation.

eyes heavy
body sinking
into oblivion
i'm tired.

i'm tired
of always
being so
**** tired

i'm tired
of commitment
and no
follow through

i'm tired
of always
being so
**** tired

i'm tired
of repetition
and the
lack of

something original.

i'm tired of
waiting on reality
to catch up
with my dreams.

Your crusty new day eyes
Have long been opened wide.
You're not at home.
You're out in the world,
Where I can't hurt you.

I know our time has passed.
I can't bounce you on my knee;
Look into your eyes and see
No matter what mistakes there might has been;
That you love me.

I ain't always been a white hat guy.
I got no answer, if you ask me "Why?".
I'll never have a claim to innocence.
There's no excuse for it.

I've no right to write
What your heart has kept inside;
I can't be forgiven.
Though I'm no longer your monster,
I am your ghost.
Sometimes, I bet I'm screaming in your dreams.

I caused pain and much despair.
And I know it's too late to save our past.
But hopefully these few lines
Can spare other lives from similar despair.

I know our time has passed.
I can't bounce you on my knee;
Look into your eyes and see
No matter what mistakes there might has been;
That you love me.

I ain't always been a white hat guy.
I got no answer, if you ask me "Why?".
I'll never have a claim to innocence.
There's no excuse...

And it weighs on me
Like sopping rags
That cling to my body
When caught out in the storm.

Can't keep up with these kids
Outrun, outclassed
Left flat on my ***
Trying to reach a new level
Making bargains with a devil
Got left in the dirt
Feelings hurt
That's why I sold my soul
Soulless, No emotions
Now try to read my cards
Opinions inflicted wounds
Labels covered me
Until I washed them clean
Now I won't let anybody place me in a box
I'm cunning, You can call me Mr Fox
Cuz I'm unique, Individuality, Totally me
May never be on top
But I am everything else that you're not.

©2018 Written By Benji James

Sleep called faintly, so
Whispers tucked me in tonight
Poems, I dreamt of them

But what is a poem
If a writer cannot write
Words that come to mind

Blankness overtook
So they reside in my mind
And not on paper

A cry for battle
Issues forth from your wicked mouth,
And finds a way to my ear.
I accept the challenge.
I will break your heart.

When darkness you need,
I will cast a light
Upon your duplicity
And broadcast your faithlessness
Into the dark of a stormy night.

The snow globe will shatter,
The one you keep on the end of a ceptor as you prim over golden walls laden with your uselessness.

Sidelong glances await you,
And shouts from the street,
Though not the one you want.

Anger will crack your face. Nobody will care.
Solidity has melted away from all the heat;
and you’ll retreat
Down into a hole to hide
With all the crawlers,
But even they will not abide
Because of your lies.
They won't sympathize
With your short eyes.

Let me dream of love;
Let me dream of love tonight.
Sometimes fantasy can be
Greater than reality.

Let me dream of love tonight.
Let me hold a body tight.
Let me gaze into some eyes
That are kind and beautiful and wise.

Let me dream of love tonight,
Though it may not be real,
No matter how it may feel.
It will not be mistaken for a lie.