Poems by Benjamin Keyser
"b is for blaspheme"
holy,
dust covered closed minds
peer through open windows
to see kneeling little girls
bowed heads and easter bonnets
while mother mary drinks of
sex and scotch through
lipstick stained straws.
tasting wine disguised as
grape juice
with decomposed lips
that still laugh at them all.
"upon leaving planet earth"
this thin fortress
crumbles to the ground
as touch brings silver
into golden pentical horizons
feel quick emotions
race through time and space
as parallel brains
forge new light
into a dark hidden reality
sharp honeycut whispers
sink through weary ears
children hold hands and dance
around a blazen campfire
that destroy's some and saves others
a new love
marks the heads of the hungry
encompassing them within shadows
as the fire surrounds them
hiding them from the cult-like moon,
they become
"waterfalls lie"
forever
worlds torn apart
thoughts that sand moves
holding a moment
letting go without cause
dream
enemies in love
real seems so fake
fear my only embrace
is it worth it
life
fooled with poison
forbidden fruit
time can touch me
I lose hope yearly
faith
believe in what
rules to live by
I can see where others can't
closed minds can't get in
pain
consume me
let me feel real again
for a moment
open new wounds
love
surround this broken vessel
heal what I can't
will you last forever
no, you can't
me
I write the saddest lines
erase my existence
let me sleep
never wake up again
"the circle"
your face of silhouettes
dance gracefully across my inner departures
moonlight on this soft embrace
never suspecting you to put me at risk
my heart locked away for years
you have opened it daily with your magic
forging me into a new creation
no longer just me, but me and you
hopeful I find you there
weaving your innocent web into my soul
follow you to your secret place
where you have hidden my heart for days now
gracefully, you overstep my boundries
leaving me gasping for air, but submission is your destiny
helpless, I commit to you all I have
no longer love, but unconditional love
in your hands I find my resting place
like a soft cloud for me to clinge to
your outstreached arms seem so holy and safe
mercifulessly, hands that have killed me
trusting to you all of my open wounded heart
I gave you everything, you couldn't give me anything
disappointed, stranded from your love
no longer me and you, but me
"it's so pathetic"
and why is it
that i can't sleep
with you
resting on my mind
as i
crawl under the covers
and think about
the girl
for whom i've
only known
twenty-four hours
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Biographical sketch: Hello, my name is Benjamin Keyser. I am
a Psychology major at Marshall University. I enjoy writing, playing
guitar, and making short indy films.
Benjamin Keyser recommends:
any work by e.e. cummings
Reason: e.e. cummings is amazing. I'm not really sure I
understood poetry, before I encountered his work. He helped me find
that poetry is much more than words and rhythmic patterns.
Recommendations for writers:
I think the most important thing to consider is what's going on
inside you. Then convey that thought, emotion, or idea on paper. I sit
in silence and close my eye's. That is how most of my poems are born.
