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Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
lightning never
sees its fire burning
the trees

absent and forlorn
as love can be.

I can feel your
thunder on the
mountainside.

we will tame
the ashes, fan the flames,
and the pray the sky
returns to calm
forgetful sleep.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Inspired by Ed Sheeran
Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
illusions of
escape velocity
for us became
placebos like
a gentle darkness
gumshoes into
disarray.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
Remember,
you are still alive
and live for every
moment we can't
change. Remember,
love, remember that
we are the change.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
I fade a little more
I don’t want to disappear
But some of us are special
And some can’t belong.

There are thoughts burned in my head.
I wonder what they’re made of
I wonder if they’re real.

I’ll never know the truth
There isn't any truth.

We’re all just misfits
And we don’t belong.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Inspired from Creep by Radiohead
Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
Beautiful Lies

Every day
and every breath
we take remains a
beautiful deception
like the promise of
black coffee or
lemon seeds in tea.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
scratch off
your disease and
match the dollars,
instant cash from
bells and cherries
like the drawings
of a whistle aren't
symbolic or a warning
for bottomless desires,
buried dreams replaced by
objects cheaper than a
chance or step into
uncertainty.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
Never stand still.
Move in a direction.
Even if you crash or fall.
Take an exit and get lost.
There is something happening
Inside your veins.

Adrenaline, blood, and
Metabolic energy
Fight or flight
Response toward
Gravity…

Spin against
The earth
Become your
Own rotation

Agitate and race.
Be anything but stable.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
In Memory of Carl Sagan

his pale blue
sense of wonder
suspended
in a sunbeam

taught beauty in
the faint sensation
of our atoms
put together.

a legacy of
dust and stars
billions upon billions
of stars

I saw the sky and
endless possibility
stretch over me like
broken shackles
form the past

and we remain the
momentary masters
of a fraction
of a dot.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
rain falls like
streams of our
subconscious
in a dream.

she was no
small dream
but she has faded
like a song.

paint your
dream town
red.

everything is
just a dream.

fall inside your
rabbit hole and
dream of cabbages
and kings.

scream my name -
make love like it’s
your dream because
it’s my dream too.

sweat and breathe
emotions as our
dreams connect

we will connect
and move like tides
of some forgotten shore
where dreams exist
in layers like the sand
and we can live forever.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars May 2014
Dead weight
Living on the edge
Of burden casts a
Shadow in the light
For flat broke dreamers
Strumming their guitars
On broken strings and
Poets writing as the
Ink runs dry.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
defragment your performance
and collect the past
like marbles
rolling
in the backseat
of a mini-van.

your hands becoming
chaos as we grasped
at straws and questioned
nothing but

our silent breathing
and the stars we left
behind a crease in
the old bench seat
where I learned
your name.

like marbles in the mini-van
our chaos will roll on.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars May 2014
3D print me into
something real, impulsive
and distinguished.

successive layers
built around a
pulse and backbone.

fused electrons hardwired
to my brain like therapy.

we are broken and
the sum of our spare parts.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
music hollows
out an empty
heart and plays
its strings.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
searching for
a world beyond
the glass where
ceilings melt
into blue sky.

refusing to
surrender on
the outside
looking in.

shadows speak
of sacrifice like
work has never
failed and

dreams are not
an endless staircase
into hell.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars May 2014
there's so much soul
inside a poet that
it makes me wonder
how they use their bodies.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
Almost never was
what we became

somewhat tired
somewhat hungry
somewhat vagrant
huddled in the ether
of our aspirations

possibilities in ruins
like hieroglyphics
crushed into the rock
our song reduced to
ashes in the sand.

the something that we had
becoming vaguely mythical
and somewhat lacking.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ciara Ballintyne asked if I could write a poem called Ode to Somewhat so I ran with the idea
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
lifelike confessions
play out like make believe

your metal warms
against my skin
reprogramming resistance

fabricated sweet talk
counterfeit concern
become too real

and I am drawn
more willingly
than magnetized.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
I wrote a poem inspired by Charity Parkerson's book Inoperative: Cyborg One. Be sure and check out her awesome story on Amazon.
Ben Ditmars May 2014
I want to blame you
and remain blameless
because it’s easier to hurt
than be confused or
lost in your reflection
like the tide without a moon
brings shorter days and
darker nights.

we face the wild
shore alone.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
Just as dusk
became us
lingered in
the air
reflections
overwhelmed
the substance
guided by our
breath.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
She walks in starlight
Coming of age
In a riptide.

Her lone synth chords
Reminiscent of an
Open mic motel.

Burning multi-layered sound
We don’t fear the dark now.

There’s room enough for two
And Technicolor in a
Hot air balloon.

I can taste the comfort
On another world with you.

Delicate piano dodging
Missiles from the ground and
Candy playing on the radio

Can’t sing like we can hum
And feel the undertow.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Inspired by several bits of random thoughts today.
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
Breathing doesn't mind the rain
It takes its time
Moving through your veins
The chill sublime

It takes its time
Softer, faster as we kiss
The chill sublime
We are in bliss

Softer, faster as we kiss
Soaked by the sky
We are in bliss
I hear you sigh

Soaked by the sky
Your lips cry out
I hear you sigh
Releasing doubt

Your lips cry out
Moving through your veins
Releasing doubt
Breathing doesn't mind the rain.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
My first pantoum.
Ben Ditmars May 2014
The world just wasn't made for dreamers...
who live in some lost place between
the present and reality
where words are currency
and thoughts buy bread.

stolen kisses last forever
in the porch light.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Jul 2014
we tell ourselves that
comedy is tragedy plus time
but we don't have the time
or patience for perspective.

there's only tragedy, the walls
are caving in, and laughter
left us with the breeze like salt
poured down our open wounds

hiding from the air
and breathing flames.
take my hand, there's nothing
but the waves.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
Ben Ditmars Apr 2014
Don’t cry,
our memories
are only one
reality.

©Ben Ditmars 2014
when the cafe closed
our hearts were broke
and we spilled out slow
crashing milk on a kitchen floor
desperate to expand in any direction
with no destination across black and white tile
our fingers fumbled anxiously
to patch all the leaks
but there were just too many
that the eye could not see
so naturally
the flood unleashed
and all of us
were swept to sea
all including  
you and me


we had begun to lose sight
of reasons for holding a lover close at night
my face feeling safe
in the nook of your neck
our bodies melting
as we slept
now both of us stand
with shrugging hands
when interrogation
comes bursting into our brains
and throws its
coat on the floor
yelling
for what did you do this?
for what was it all for?
and the days where we passed
on buses and bikes have been
all used up
i can't plan a time or a date now
to see you stroll up ditmars
chalk full of confidence
with your hands like fireworks
bite marks and blood at your nails
don't you remember how easy that was?

when you'd come over and roll blunts on a magazine
and i'd never let you sit too close to me
but was always willing to flash enough thigh
just to keep you guessing
i was your goal,
and you were my friend
and everyone here knows
how a goal really ends
it's right back to being disappointed again

now i watch the back
of your black winter coat as you
turn down the moonlit alley
caught dead center
between your place and the cafe
where i hear the voices of our
friends still echo day to day with
green bottles in happy fists
guitars on backs
snow on the ground
light in their eyes
eveytime i walk by
there's cheers for your name
the neighbors are  gonna call the cops again
the yellow booth in the back
where we get snapped at for laughing
too loud too drunk on wine too proud
of  ourselves
and its fine
in retrospect
we were allowed
now the windows are bare
and a green light dimly lit
still sits on the brick glowing reasonlessly
a beacon in the dark for those of us looking

and i saw them remove the sign the other day
now i hear there's gonna be a new cafe
i'll have to stomach the mediocrity every time i go by
i'll have to learn to keep my head straight
and not turn to look down that drive
and we'll have to keep laughing
and we'll have to keep trying
though the ashes have scattered
ill keep the memory alive
Ben Ditmars Jun 2014
Let go,
Let love
Define you.

©Ben Ditmars 2014

— The End —