~
i smell of the moon –
one last time to kill the pain
and taste rock candy.
~
no, i won’t back down
among the wildflowers
we belong to them.
~
music and chaos
free fall into nothing, the
sounds of nineteen guns.
~
she was an american girl…
a nurse, a teacher, a veteran.
~
© Ben Ditmars 2017
Photograph Courtesy of Helle Gade
Stop by for fun and poetry tomorrow night!
Image Source: Flickr (cc)
~
if a solar eclipse can
swallow the sun, will
there be less darkness?
~
will we feel the speed
of gravity stop everything –
or will we carry on
frozen lifeless
shouting racial slurs?
~
i hope they find us staring
deeply at each other
after sex
or dancing slow –
~
i want to be a sculpture
of a swan or angel
~
anything but human.
____
© Ben Ditmars 2017
I wrote this back in the dark ages of July 2017. Has it really been that long?
____
Starry Isolation
pulses rising in the
desert sunset
branding us with vapor,
starry skies
we survive against
the night, entwined
becoming one.
____
© Ben Ditmars 2017
Photograph Courtesy of Amber AquaIntense Norrgard
i have been busy
writing poetry by sight
and sound – observing
fire and the fury
without words –
somehow less is more
than we deserve,
another Vicodin replacing cigarettes
when death is near enough
to Bedminster, Mar a Lago or
his tower –
it will be a national emergency.
___
© Ben Ditmars 2017
Image Source: Flickr
Image Source: Flickr / virtual_lotus (cc)
~
dense remnants of sky
are crushed into exhaustion
inside neutron stars
hot pulses, i have
felt from weakness with
my concentration
energetically
behind cold matter i am
less than tragedy.
___
© Ben Ditmars 2017
gas continues choking
casualties
like lab rats or
canaries in a coal mine…
next time, there won’t be
a next time
we remember
Aurora,
Sandyhook,
Manchester,
stray bullets in
an endless narrative.
___
© Ben Ditmars 2017
Photograph by Kim Stapf
passion lurks behind
eyes bloodshot with cocaine and
venti-sized coffee
a lover’s spat un-swallowed
nearly choked on sweet and lows.
___
© Ben Ditmars 2017
Image Source: Flickr cc
