THE FEAR SHARE

The power of his fearful stirring,
Became the center of my being.
The greatness of the turbulence that strained within himself,
Became the pivot of my life...
For a moment..
His fear consumed me.

Even though it sprung from him
And even though it reigned within
The strength of it was so unmade
It made me weak, frail, and fairly afraid..
Now I had the reigns and he was allayed.

Out it went, overflowing.
In it went, my undergoing.
Holding on centrifically...
His fear consumed me.

Like-the-death-grip of lonliness,
It reached out - transforming me.
I was born into his trembling soul,
Diluting him of excess depth.
A servant to the sorrow.
A hangar for the heaviness.
A reluctant resting place.

JESSICA & CO.
(Ben's first poem)

She neglects what does not appease her every fancy;
With the effortlessness that a bird soars
Her actions reveal her carelessness, stubbornness, and Apathy
as clearly as the water coloring of a two-year old reveals its skill.
Although these qualities appear extreme;
She holds her WAYS in the highest esteem.
You need not be wise to uncover her lies;
The Question Is WHY???????????????????

My indirect questions are extinguished with her generalities.
And more direct inquisitations
Trampled on Softly & Sweetly
By her roundabout Alibis.
To be burnt alive is as convenient as her selfish silence.
Her innocence is but a scheme.
Her thoughtfulness makes me sick.

Under her hot flesh
Lies Pure METAL CHOKING MESH.
She is like a fine meal TO my Imagination
But Behind the frills and Sex APPEAL
is the Real DEAL,
Which would shock a nation.

MY FRIEND, MY BROTHER

I AM a friend to my brother.
I AM his friend in all times of need
AND a friend in all times of his content.
I am the warlord type of friend ... OBSESSED.
To my friend,
I am Sweet
I am Joyful,
I am Brutal,
I am Destructive,
I am his Devil
I am his Savior
I AM my brother's drunken concubine of mental affirmation,
The shackled slave that builds his castle of hope and endurance,
The freedom warrior which knocks it down in demanding times.

I AM a glossy apple in an orchid to my friend.
To MY brother, I AM a cesspool of compulsive hatred,
I am too a swelling well of unfettered love.

A VIEW FROM PORCH STEPS

Furry Midget Feathers,
Jerking at their Frail Frames,
Falter by My Focal Point,
Feigning Flight with FLOPPING Motion.

Then Tiny Flickers FLASH,
On Distant Grass Blade TIPS,
And Command My Concentration.

Now PULLED to Mid-horizon,
By Floating Silhouettes,
First Fluttering in Falsity,
Then Taking over Sight,
By Shining Torso Outlines with a Sudden SPARK of Light.

And as they Dim in Yield to Mating Acquiescence,
Their Feeble Farewell Fleeting Frees the Final Fascination:

A Perfect Line of Tall Thick Trunks,
But Bent at Upper Backs,
By Branches Tangled from Dissension,
Now Resting Fins and Catching Breath -
Their Woven Bristles, Hanging Haggard, Sweeping Swaggard,
Brushing Green on Pink Grey Sky - A Panoramic Drool.

A POISONOUS STARE

She Can Appear Not to Care
And When She Does This
She Does it Well
Her Stare is a Sickening Poison

So Why This Intense Shield?
Why This Psychotic Forcefield?
Is This Really Her Portrayal?
Or is this Simply an Act or a Tale?
What is She Hiding Underneath the Veil?

Then She Snaps Into Laughter and Joy
She's Networking Now, Wow, She Really is Coy
For Those Really Watching, Not Under a Spell
This All Seems So Strange, She Doesn't Look Well
Is There Something Not Easy
She's Trying to Sell
Believe It or Not, I Really Can Tell

INSPIRATION

It has transcended me.
A collage of mental perception
Isolated they are weak,
Together they trigger a spiritual reaction inside me
Catapulting me in a effortful direction effortlessly
Through a spiritual adrenaline,
A positive possession gives me the strength of a god
and when it casually leaves, I become tired and miserable.

SMOKE

A ball of fire ignites with each soft draw from its source.
Smoke billowing down and through my insides,
This white soft stardust finds its way to my center, changes me,
And in a whisper dissipates at the pace of a cloud.
Mystification sets in and I am transformed with each breath.
Silent and curious, I watch it perform its ritual on me.
Same as always; Confident, secretive, and unyielding.

THE POMEGRANATE EXPERIENCE

From a distance it appears as an apple
But for a peculiarly majestic crown which sprouts from its top
And begins its distinguishment from all other fruits.
It lacks the glossy shimmering skin of the well-known apple varieties too,
And is instead cloaked in a leathery octagonal hide,
With butterfly glitter and exoticism.

It has no known cousins, a lone fruit
It lives a quiet life of solitude on a bushy tree, angling out in a hopeful stance.
Rarely seen or harvested, Humans partake in it irregularly.
They don't engage it in their daily talk or habit
And it continues to appear uninvited at the grocer's market,
Sought out only by long friends and spirited pioneers.

Once torn open, its tough worn out red hide
Is transcended by a countless array of bright red tiny fruits.
Their glassy appearance reveals
Each of their individual inner white seeded souls
Nestled snugly within their mother fruit's tough skeletal hide
Like the internal organs of a young child secured in its human frame.

These embryonic baby fruits
Shine out of their mother's protective casing
To the devourer's ecstasy and disbelief.
They appear to the inviting
While hiding themselves from the faint of faith
Like an ancient treasure in a rotted wooden frame
Turned away by greedy visionless bandits.

When the first-timer approaches a nestled quadrant of fruits,
He is a brain surgeon cutting and wading thru cerebral fluids
Torn between disturbing a natural resting place
And tasting an unknown essence.
He may pick one fruit seedling up
Then eat it after examining it lying in his black-red stained fingers,
Before deciding to venture ingesting a handful at once.

As he devours the seedlings at a pace rich with ponder and intrigue,
He experiences first a sharp rich bite,
Followed by a mouth-numbing bitter sensation.
That takes over his mind and mouth and ears and spirit
As his once cautious experimentation turns into a over-gluttonous race
To finish off every last seedling.