Passing By’s

Lust and dark thoughts
Empty corridors,
Bodies full
With doped smiles
And fire underneath the plastic

Wreaking stimulants,
Transient pleasures fill my lungs and enter my brain
The delightful fuck it
Whispering in my ear
Putting it’s hand on my thigh

Need not reason but a craving to pass the time
My heavy feet drag along the concrete
The taste of a dry mouth and a flaming neck
Seem so easy to quench with a sip or a toque of what they call ‘the good stuff’

Oh I know the lies
The passing by’s
The closed ears and blood shot eyes
Open mouthed gawping at the fantastic
Explaining like lion with mane
But not with pride
Something less
Something surface and without jest
A crack in the shell of machismo merchants
Who lurk in the alleys
Stinking of times passed,
Wounds to be filled with sugar-sand and broken glass

Never have I ever known the meaning of pleasure
Nobody knows better
Than a man who’s come back from the edge
Tasted the elixir
And swallowed it.
Bliss, Love, Ecstasy,
Then the anaesthesia ran out.

Not desperate
Now only does he drip with the sweat of his brow
Pure passion
Fire by love and fury
The only hit is his own fist
Sometimes does he tire
Never does he miss

He took the holy grail
Almost turned
But got rid of it,
How?

When tempted
Full of contempt
In thoughts
Stepping back from the ledge
Still falling but seeing
I count myself lucky
For the sight that is my gift
Sold easy for a trip,
The empty form of it.

No more second guessing.
From dark
I know the light,
And that’s a
Blessing.

 


-Ben

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Photographer: Mali Maeder

Master’s Trip

The Donkey carries his master on his back. With purposeful strides he makes his way down the tree streaked road. Prints from former caravans smoothen the path, and the Donkey traces them with the pride of a Son with his Father.

The master was on his way to a very important opportunity of his. He was going to be promoted to the head of the hood charity: An organisation that helped the poor and those in need by supplying them with food, and company on tough nights.

This is taking too long, the Master thought. I need to get there before sundown or I will miss the meeting.

He stuck his left hand in his supply bag, pulled out a loaf of bread. With his right,  he proffered it to the Donkey, dangling it in front of his nose.

The Donkey ate it, and felt ripples of energy pass through his body. The Donkey knew he would need more to really get his belly filled, but he enjoyed his bread and carried on down the path.

For miles they walked onward into the afternoon, walking over hills, and through the fields and forests. Occasionally they took breaks to rest and sit for minutes of bliss in the bask of the sun and the velvet grass.

Yet The Master was not contented. The Donkey has been well behaved, yes, but this was not fast enough. We will not make the goal of sunset, he thought.

He grabbed an apple from his sack and proffered it. The Donkey ate it from his hand.

The Donkey again was going to need more to really fill him. But munching on the apple, he felt even better, stronger, and could walk further than ever. The donkey enjoyed his apple.

In exchange, his Master demanded him to walk further in-between breaks.

This is a fair game, The Master thought. I gave him more food, and therefore he has more energy. I expect him to try his best.

A muffin for The Donkey. Or maybe two… He proffered 3 muffins in succession, and The Donkey bit into the buttery goodness delightfully.

The Donkey continued onward, over a bridge, and down under the shade of the trees, slowly digesting these balls of tastiness.  He felt great.

Although he did notice that he could not walk as quickly as he could yesterday.

The Master noticed too. He was now becoming agitated. There was no more time for rests. It was important that they sped up. I’ll give the mule more incentive, he thought.

A Pie… 2 Pies! He proffered them. The Donkey hesitated, then ate.

Now it will speed up, The Master thought. I expect that it will do it’s job and take me to take me where I need be.

The Donkey sweated, feeling heavier with every step. He no longer felt good. He felt tired, and could not walk as fast as he used to. Angered, The Master breathed heavily.

He gave the Donkey more.

This should do it, he thought. A cake for the Donkey: He proffered it as before. the Donkey, not feeling good, trusted his master, ate the cake.

After a mile of lumbering and gasping, the Donkey fell. He had been exhausted and was too large to walk. He did not understand why his master had given him the food, and why he felt so bad for eating it. He thought and wished that he had never eaten any of his masters food. He passed out.

The Master got off of the donkey, and walked off down the road and into the distance without him.

A few hours later, he clopped back down the road with another Donkey. Other caravans took the route, and upon finding one, negotiated a price.

The Donkey had awoken two hours beforehand, and the hope of his Master coming back had dimmed from a glow to a flicker.

Maybe I was too quick to judge Master, the Donkey thought, he has come back to save me.

The Master removed The Donkey’s clothes, his equipment, his saddle, and the boxes of food that The Donkey had carried on his back, strapping it all onto the new Donkey.

The Master hopped onto New Donkey and rode off into the sunset.

-Ben