Until that day

Heart thumping in my head,
Sometimes my feet tingle.
My numb hands hold tightly in regret
If only I could just…


There’s nothing else to do,
Just the waiting game.
My friends are the raindrops
While the smiling assassin passes onwards on the waves.

Until that day,

The feeling screeches like a chalk
Dragged slowly over its board,
Stitching, Scratching,
Relentless, until it becomes a part of you.

Until that day,

I’m clinging to my chrysalis
Routines and creature comforts,
Keep me human,
Help me find my way again

To the blank slate

That gives me comfort
When I can feel it
Giving reason to the thumping,
That I can hold if I can make it,
That I might find
And meet my maker.

Until that day,

A smiling swallow limps
Through the valley of grey
To the end light
Where the wind carves
Around a Lotus Flower.

 

 

The Difference

…The Moon and the Water…

So much talking about normal
When I don’t understand
Why do you not understand.

Do you not trust me?

God knows I’m an amnesiac…
Everyone’s entitled
To their own great expectations.
That’s fine,
Pinpointed,
But I’m me, I’m mine.

Just trying to see
The fine line
Between the words
And the meaning.

Whatever the Mothers and Sons bring
If you decide to watch,
Not just me but the others too,
Let us Fall
On stone or soft grass.
As scars heal,
We’ll have the feeling
To know the difference.

Please,

Let me let the space in.
To be,
And to find the courage
To feel the difference.


-Ben

If you like this post, then I’d recommend checking out <a href"https://benharleyarts.com/2018/05/07/integrate/"this post also.

Her

Overwhelming joy

Like a fire flood rising and falling in my belly

The feeling of being stretched into the epitome of up and smiles

She makes me laugh like I don’t know myself anymore,

Beautiful blue eyes,

Talking in hums and squeezes

Sleepy faces and tight cuddles

She keeps me warm

Talking through the night about the problems of the universe

Singing and dancing to old songs from groovy times

Never cheesy, always cheesy, and we love it

A duo in performance

Double trouble

The dream team

 

In the shadows

We embrace them

Savour them

Talk of their necessity

In Low tones

And bland fact

Overtoned by squeaky voices

About mawnins and evenins

And aftanoonees

 

We wrestle and tickle

Because that’s the proper thing to do

And become the birds and the dogs

With their dances and calls

Then I kiss her forehead softly and warmly

And I tell her that she is the best thing that has ever happened to me

Because she just is.

And I love her so.