#stratosphere
Lavender lingers to mask the hues of the wounds inflicted by memories of what once was,
A somber retreat past the stratosphere is where my heart now seeks refuge,
Away from this dismantled construct - the fantasy you led me to believe,
I sit solemnly to listen to my spirit and how it yearns for the beloved,
The distance enforced left me astray,
Now my days are painted in lavender as I hope to heal,
Brighter times of union and divinity,
Of peace and prosperity,
Filled with redemption and revitalization.
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 11:46 AM UTC
I’m afraid to sleep on earth
for the fear of having to fight again
battling for rest
only against myself
Past the stratosphere
no one can hear you dream
like they were trying all along
And I can’t either
which is what made it so appealing
but you can only wrestle with nothing up there
for so long
until the sky comes down again
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
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
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 6:03 AM UTC
I must report the passing of a dear old friend today
I'm not sure when it happened, but I felt I had to say
That the Vegas that's in movies, books, and on TV
Is not the one that you will find, it's not the one you'll see
I know your expectations are of glitter and of lights
Of singers in the lounges that play into the night
The lounges now are empty of the singers and the bands
Instead they're full of djs, and bad magicians badly tanned,
The song that was Las Vegas is not one thats in your head
The one you know with Elvis, is now gone, you see it's dead
The old hotels are gone now, It's not like it was before
The new buzzword in Vegas is now just, MORE, MORE, MORE
It's now a culture aimed at being bigger than the rest
For now it seems that bigger, means you're now known as the best
There's hotels full of bedbugs and the service is the *****
But, the casino doesn't care if there are people in the pits
The strip is nearly two miles long, and almost half is blank
It's like the desert opened up and ten casinos sank
At one end is the Stratosphere, it's got a real cool view
But, because of it's location it's not easy to get to
The Sahara was next closest, but now the Lady's gone
And to walk from this tram stop at night, well I cannot say it's fun
It's dingy and it's ***** and it's not a place to be
I wouldn't recommend this part, it's not a place to see
Freemont Street, The Old Vegas is off the beaten path
It's an hour ride upon the bus, and a taxi...do the math
It's just a place to go to once, there's no reason to return
And if you ever visit here, I think that's what you'll learn
The middle part of the strip is glitzy and spread out
It's kind of close to what Las Vegas is about
It's not all geared to people who have childeren all in tow
These ultra cool casinos is where you might just want to go
The other end is busy, but it's full of gloom and doom
And on every single corner, you can get girls to your room
There's people handing out small cards with women with a price
Who'll come up to your room and well....let's say they don't play dice
On every bridge across the strip, there's beggars and there's hawkers
They're selling everything from cds to bottled dollar water
It's tourist town, a fast food mess, it's Disneyland on crack
There's lots of things to do down here, but you must always watch your back
Did The Mirage **** it?, when Steve Wynn said let's go really huge
Hotels like this were ten times larger than the Moulin Rouge
It wasn't when Hughes came to town and bought the Desert Inn
You know the land that's now the new home of the casino known as Wynn?
It didn't die when Elvis left, it sill was full of life
But at someime since the town has died, it has fallen on the knife
The strip itself is two miles long, but you know that that's not all
In the years since Elvis left, it's become a big strip mall
There's stores here selling plastic , and the people shop in streams
I'm not sure, but to me NIKE is not the Vegas in my dreams
Rolling in their graves, I bet the stars who made this town
Are sitting in heaven or hell, saying when did it go down
There's more shows now of tribute acts and hypnotists galore
And you can find a Circus from Quebec through nearly every hotel door
At some point rigor mortis set into this old girl
I wish they could revive her, at least give it a whirl
There's buffets selling fried foods, obesity....my lord
And if you don't go out to Denny's, the restaurants you can't afford
My mind has got an image of Vegas that is cool
It involves going out late and spending daytime at the pool
You dress to go to dinner, maybe dancing and a show
And the concierge at the hotel is someone you should know
But now, you go out shopping to the outlet in the day
The casinos are all empty, since there's no one left to play
Getting dressed to go to dinner, means you switch from shorts to jeans
And the ways some people act now, well it's borders on obscene.
So, today I'd like to ask you all, for you may know more than I
But, can anybody tell me, just when did Vegas die?
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 2:11 PM UTC
---
this is a day of
high clouds
my mind
roams up to
where they are
in the upper stratosphere
cold christaline skies
a bowl over
the marbled earth
the sky cracked open
revealing the
ionosphere
black as a
stone egg
where stars waited
to be
birthed
soulsurvivor
(c) 5/12/2015
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
sometimes
there are rocks in my hands
and only tight clenched fists
can keep them from smashing
the mirror world below
into delicate shards of broken promises.
i long to float among the clouds -
one with the stratosphere -
but the rocks weigh me down
so that i cannot touch them.
reaching
but never reached.
people in glass houses
aren't supposed to throw stones.
so i am sure to keep locked
my loaded palms
hiding in plain sight.
only your lips
with homemade ice-cream touches
can coerce my stagnant fingers
to melt back into warm flesh.
skin bones knuckles joints.
i release the stones over a waterfall cliff -
rushing rolling rambling -
and they ripple in the water
and sink to the soil of the riverbed
making a home for fragile fish
in search of shelter.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC