Ben West » love

A Sonnet on The Subject of Interplanetary Travel

Ben — Fri, 09 Jun 2006 23:15:18 +0000

And if you’ve ever seen the World
hanging on a thread
And gazed into the nightmare sky
Of all the things you said.
And if you’ve ever been to Venus
Send a postcard of the things you saw
Like the girl gazing at the Sun
Eyes blind, heart sore.

And if she now asks you how and why you’re here
Tell her my search has ended
And yet I have no fear.
If still sometimes she gazes into the wild night sky
Remind her I still drift out there
And the spark-It never died.

Remember

Ben — Thu, 25 May 2006 22:33:26 +0000

Do you remember, the way it used to be?
Back when things were simple
back when all this was a game
before we had so much at stake
before all of this pain.

Before the days grew long and numb
before we understood
the best the worst the world could store
when it felt that anything we wanted was ours
and be anything, we could.

There was a time when we knew who we were
and what we wanted to be.
There was a time when the World waited for us
There was a time when we were free.

And like a lamb to the slaugher
we ran towards this in delight
we wanted love we wanted to live
we wanted to see the truth and fight
for the world thought was ours.

We ran towards it willingly
love lured us in.
The greatest beauty
the greatest gift
the greatest glimpse of heaven we’ll ever get.
A fanciful hope, for maybe there’s a chance….?
So much more for which to live for
on red hot coals we dance.

For even love comes with a price
and gives us so much more to loose.
We become slaves to our dreams and hopes, yet freed by the vision of a better day.

So here we are now, forgive me for my cynicism
I am not a cynic or wise.
I merely see a World that just won’t work
a World I have come to dispise.
I am not a cynic
I see a world beyond this
I see a world when things were straight and pure and good
When screwed up ragged people were who they were meant to be.
That World was not perfect
merely straightforward, you knew where you stood.
I’d do anything to be back there with you now if I could.

Do you remember the way it used to be?
Throwing away the rose tinted spectacles
smashing them as our lives were smashed to pieces.
I’m sending in the salvage crew to find the parts of a broken heart
And when I do, I’ll go back to the start.

Interplanetary Travel

Ben — Sun, 07 May 2006 22:37:53 +0000

The Ice Queen

Ben — Thu, 16 Jun 2005 23:08:26 +0000

Poetry that doesn’t rhyme is a fucking waste of time
[I'm wasting time here]
dribbling on the page.
It’s all over isn’t it.
Thank God for that, was starting to drag
lover turns to recreation which turns to obsession which turns into occupation which takes over
your mind
your thoughts
your life
and you realize
that living life
waiting for you to come to your senses
living on the knife-edge
for you
really isn’t worth the effort.

All possibilities are landing at my feet
and as I walk the empty street I feel free again.
It’s time to start afresh, it’s time to start anew
it’s time to face a brand new world
without you.

sure I miss the good old days
the times the places
etc.
they’re gone
the who you were is gone
and who we were is gone
and who I was is gone
but who I’m becoming is real
and the paralysed limbs are starting to heal
and the feeling is returning to a heart and mind previously numbed by you,
the ice queen, my dear beloved, the her and the who and the brand new you.
But yes, the ice is thawing.

I tried to build a warm cozy igloo inside your heart.
It collapsed.
Well today, ice queen, my dear beloved,
a blue arm grasped the air outside your avalanche, and felt the still sweet air for the first time again,
and breathed its first breath again
and felt the sweet touch of life again
and said to the ice queen never again.

Everyone Gets What They Deserve

Ben — Mon, 07 Feb 2005 22:36:01 +0000

The storm has ended
the fall that went on for ever has gone on forever and is now complete.
The rain has stopped smashing cold hard hammer blows
and the fire which engulfed us all has engulfed us all and we are now just ash and the fire has burnt itself out.
The war to end all wars has ended ready for the next to begin while the gallant heroes limp home having exchanged a leg for gold and glory.
The revolution promised in exchange for our hopes dreams and aspirations has revolved into the revolution to revolutionize revolutions is about to begin.

But for now the ground lays flat the cold damp earth simmers
the dreams the foolish idealism turn to hot air to inflict their vicious lies upon some other poor unsuspecting fellow.

an arm reaches out of the warm sticky mud into which the whole world has sunk

drowning in its own waste and hatred and mistakes

the arm reaches out and a mouth touches the surface
the fire and fear and anger and regret and loss in the widowed mother of orphans eyes

she looks to the dark green empty sky

gasping desperately as the vicious price of her own viciousness encircles her

and she pleas to the world to help her, but it is too late
and she screams for mercy from a world of which there is nothing left
and as a candle drowned in petrol she burns as a candle for what is left of the world, for as long as there is a flame feeding upon her dying flesh there is hope.

She grabs into the air for a non existent hand to drag her to safety.

She disappears under.