Attempts to make
Meticulous marvels
Molded from mountains
Mindful of the minds
That mind it

With Poe-try you can surely
get your Words' worth
So many words are waiting
like a Wolfe at your door,
for their Cummings into being.

If you listen, they Pound
upon your brain
They Lamb-aste your viscera,
making you Nash your teeth.
They create a Millay in your head.
So many shapes, so many Hughes

Lusting for Moore they Lear
at you when you least expect.
Look back at them!

Like Frost upon the windowpane
they write themselves,
then, when all is said and Donne
melt away too soon.

Grasp them when you can.
Put them in a Rowe
Taylor them to your muse,
use your Whit, man !

Ruminating epoché,
‘I am…’ ‘Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay.
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay
Initiatives imperative consolidation,
Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
Forecast in vague extrapolation,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating the linguistics of silent enclaves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
The Apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging Aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.

Memories

How you linger
Stinging and staining
Remaining and reminding
Of the binding ties
The blinding highs
And lows so steep
Blows so deep
Reaping, creeping
Leaping from tower tops
Falling, flailing to the crops below
Knot on the head
Ears pick up knocking
Arms blocking
Stocking on locks
Rocking on the floor
Poor boy
Never had a dream
Bereave him and leave him the keys
Heaves up blood
Studded in his cellar
Paler than snow
No glow, so low

Woe
Lament for him
Repent for him
Resentment was not meant for him
Sent to the wrong address
Tested and regressed
Restless and directionless
Ingestion of confession became
Nestled, cottled
Modeled and bottled
Startled and shocked
Hardened, unpardoned
Parted like the Red Sea
Like the Red blood  
Running down like tears in those
Red eyes
Ready to cry like those
Fed eyes
Ready for demise like those
Dead eyes
Don't be surprised

And what a soul could know
How the memories linger

Manipulative, malevolent, mystified
Inevitably inverting our introspection
Waning away collected calculation

Like calcified cancer;

Contouring colors of passions
Which fasten franticly to oblique reactions
As fantasized antics;

Crafted daintily in packets
Jacketing the tactlessness behind the fanatics.

Hopelessly happy, helplessly harrowed.

Mania

Dear, let me startle you by slinking my hand into
your smart, ethical decisions while I touch
quite gently
ripping to shreds
your photon ends.

Dear, let me caress your supple virtues and vows
until they blow out of proportion
merging your interests with mine
like the longing of eyes
uncanny in its distortion.

Dear, let me rip off your clothes as I grip your tight notions
ideas slipping carefully into place
like a sterile, unflinching blank slate
inching towards computed devotion.

Dear, let me carry out some foreplay
as long as you bend, not break,
delightfully stroking the edge of your plate.

Dear, let me come so close to your face
so close that it becomes blurry.

Where are my glasses in all this flurry?

Of feelings resembling photo reels on fire
shooting flames out the window
beyond everything you’ve ever known;
beyond anything you desire.

Dear, let me kiss you to submission,
your brain waves in motion
as I twist and slip into them
hormones ablaze
lighting up for days
your synapses recapturing
in a binocular haze.

Dear, let me flop on top of you
like a floppy disk, uploading your lips
into my hardrive.

Do I make you hard as fire?

Slowing burning
my hot fingers curling
up your robust spine
cracking it into
chiropractor sublime.

Massaging your tired broad shoulders
like large sofa ends.

Is this keyboard only
made for pretend?

Dear, let me mind *******
take you and light you
brighten your screen
uphold and unseen
neurons fighting as I whisper ***** words
directly into the folds of your tulip ears
too large to hear, and

Dear, let me engage my rage
into a productive haze
bolting out words, unheard of for days.

Dear, let us become undone together
like the battery of a computer
rebooting after a hectic hardware phase.

Dear, let us breathe and walk through this maze.

10/31/2017

Why did I say that thing just now
And how do i manage to sound so proud around the people i want to impress
Im sure they can tell im just a little too loud
I talk a little too fast
Is it anxiety or mania that makes me act like that?
And why wont he respond?
Wait, which he am i on?
My hope for a lover shot down on the daily
But still i manage to feel ok when im not focused on waiting
Entertaining myself in other ways
Playing with words
Word salad, tossed in a ballad, tossed salad
Oops, did i say that?
Donno what im playing at
Dont mind me
Im finding it hard to wind down
If i run, my problems wont find me
Staring at the sun prolly wont blind me
If i pretend to be fine now
Will my demons remind me?
I just wanna share my poetry with someone that thinks like me
Whos likeminded, inspired, desires to climb higher
If knowledge is fire
Then my mind is a lighter
But my soul keeps tripping over her own shadow 
Boxing with my demons in the shallows
Maybe today I let them win
On the Eve of All Hallows, the winner is sin

Way up in the stratosphere
You’ll find me floating here
Trying to find clarity
Through these brown eyes
Finally, see the sun
lighting up these crystal skies
For deep down in the depths
Of this subconscious mind
Lies dormant lines
Waiting to be brought to life
Like a newborn child
I feed and breathe in new life
they are tended to
Fragile and with care
I watch them grow
as they mature into a complexity
So neatly and gently
These thoughts spill upon the page
Welcome to my dynamic wordplay.

©2018 Written By Benji James