The walls in my bedroom are blue like my mother's disappointed eyes at three in the morning. So blue I am a spluttering fish stuck on a hook before the final yank. Blue like the spiral staircase of expectations my father built for me since he kissed my forehead and gave me my name, with just enough teeth to leave lesions on my insomniac skin.
It's not azure blue like tender irises you keep pressed on your diary because the last time your lover tucked it between your tresses, your feline eyes purred like a fed baby on vacation but it's blue like blue bath and blue murder exploding into an orchestrated fragments of failures and heartbreaks.
And the witches on their brooms cackle and fly on the walls but a spell is not enough to wash this static heave and pull from my blue blue veins. The walls in my bedroom are blue mirrors and they only reflect this half chewed emptiness of a bedraggled martyr, toss turning on a brick blanket that crushes my clogged heart.
But the people in my town opines Yellow's the new culture, And the sooner, a new paint coat, Brighter is a face lift and Deeper, their burial ground. I have had too much of the whispers And a woman needs her quiet time as much as she needs her sleep. And the things you say at 3 am is too often a hammer down your bones, for all the weight it carries, or so it seems or so I was told.
I owe you all a hearty THANK YOU for constantly encouraging me. I realized today I have already completed 2 years of my mirakee journey. It's been a long ride, an on and off relationship with me being constantly absent. Nevertheless, you guys have always helped me get back on track and hayeee, I am truly indebted to you all. Hope everyone is doing well ❤️ @writersnetwork you have been my constant since my journey on this platform started. Thank you for encouraging me. Thank you for this lovely repost too. Truly humbling 💓 @miraquill THANK YOU for the gift of this pod. You motivate me. Thanks again for the prompts you painstakingly come up with daily, it helps me write. For giving us this platform, which is home to me,Thank you even more ❤️
crogers180Wow, you are an amazing writer!! Huge congrats on this amazing piece 🧡
mzcupcake11Hey! Congratulations on your 2year! You are truly amazing.. mesmerizing! Intriguing & absolutely stupendous! The way you weave a poem or prose around 1 simple word. You are so fierce in your penning, you voice is definitely heard by young & old.. tall & small.. believe me Ben.. they 'hear' them all. & Like you, when Ppl are struggling, or get lost on their way.. many read you.. & are back to their righteous byways. So if you ever feel down, or stuck in a rut.. if you ever get 'tude stuck up ur behind.. lol.. imma say this once more, cuz I been writing in rhyme.. (I Kno you will get it) in very short time.. you have so many friends, those you support along the way.. please don't ever forget, we need you to stay. ❤️💯
murryben@mzcupcake11 hi cupcake, thank you for the lovely message. I've been stuck in the rut many times, be it a writer's block or life getting in the way. But I have had the good fortune of coming out of it alive miraculously. I don't know how I will classify my poems or proses as such. It is just a candid confession to help lessen the burden and maybe tell the likes of me "hey, it's gonna be alright. You aren't alone". It's beautiful. The way you said. To have people read me and find their way home. The fact is, I could have left a long time ago but readers/writers like you gives me the fuel I desperately need to keep penning, even if inconsistently. I was telling a good friend of mine today, that I have the best readers reading me and they are the ones I admire and look up to. Thank you so much. You made me smile for so many reasons and for teaching me something valuable today. I admire you.
dazzling_sunlight_I LOVE READING YOU!!! Ik i am probably late but you write amazingly and congrats on 2 years. more to go 🥂
Where do unspoken words go when they die? Do they stay petrified in silence like the lips of Pompeii's offsprings when Vesuvius raged from the mount of her Sevenfold Height and buried the last of heart's tender outbursts in her liquid venom?
Where do unsaid words go when they die? Do they trail sore on needle stuck flesh to the wild wind's antic like a thread broken kite while Goddess Elysian from her baby blue crib frets and frowns and begs for it to find a safe landing?
Where do unspoken words go when they die? Does it flail its bony arms for the touch of its lover's familiar embrace from her six feet trench of a grave while the willow weeps her silvery leaves for the young burial that flows down river Lethe and never made home?
Where do unsaid words go when they die? Is yours as sour as the taste of blood on my mouth when I swallow the rise of rebellion on my teeth clamped coward jaw? Is yours as mournful as the drop of the sun in the West and the eerie hush that hang on the eaves of a forgotten ghost town when the Night comes to rest?
O where do words go when they die? Is it me I mourn for? Is it words I mourn for?
In the folds of October's sapphire pleated skirt runs an archived tale of us, In zig zags of cave paintings, fanning wide like a peacock's feather, immortalized on red spit charcoal and mud, And God knows then, I had an unfettered wing for a limb, and an unhooked spine unrushed, gliding in sync with you on the dreamy lush of a twilight embracing an ember studded sky.
Autumn is as much a passing dream as Winter is an uninvited guest sipping on black dregs of melancholia and regrets, Burying hand stitched leaves of our psychedelic love in alien sheets of ice and frost. When the snow seeps into the roof of my naked shoulders, your furlough goodbyes that lodges deep into the doorknob of my heart, fester and wounds, like bullets fired point blank and the holler of a moribund echo recants.
I sit bereft of words now, And from the casket of ancient yesteryear's flutters the forgotten wings of an unweighed heart, waiting for the stroke of your thumb on my eyebrows and let loose my frowns into smiles. I sit bereft of words now, Waiting for the familiar touch of your warm hands to turn the doorknobs and usher the gold of Autumn in. I have never said it loud, never once in words, But God knows, the world was kinder when I had you by my side Then, I had lesser scars to sew.
murryben@tamanna3 not anything good but if you wanna look, it's copy pasted above there and as you can see from the chats, you know why now 😂
tamanna3I seeeeeeeee Also I do understand that not being happy with it still thing. That's me a lot of times but recently I've been bothering myself with it less haha. In any case, it's GOOD. It's different, like all your other poems. The style of writing. Like it's said, the thoughts of the mind are always simple , but the words of the mouth aren't. Who said it idk, maybe just me have a nice day
My anxiety sits in the corner of my dystopian heart. I am snow and dirt glistening morosely on mud and straw. I'd like to break a wall or two, this glass beauty that separates us and see if I spurt blood that puts to shame this fiery sun and come back anew in water and dirt like earth. Help me breathe!
There's a transparent ocean inside your eyes and a poet can, but only pen lyrical ballads in your favour that puts the envious Gods to unadulterated rage. But I am no poet and I see corpses your ocean eye houses. Sepulchres, fawning eyes never see, and I wonder, I wonder if this mortal agony will last till the peals of the final trumps.
I have never known the address of Happy Endings because Love held me hostage once. I know I paid a Kingdom's ransom, most times in salty tears and so you will find me on tiptoes now, waltzing to Hozier on a fine Sunday evening by the seaside alone and you can watch me collapse, collapse into infinite nothings.
PS: ah, eccentricity #start#podben#benecc @/writersnetwork : You made my day with your comment thank youuuuu. I adore you ♥️ Thank you for the lovely repost too. @miraquill this actually feels surreal. Never thought I'll get another pod. Thank you!
Edit: inspired by an interview I read about the moon. Thank you all. I don't even know if I deserve this ♥️
tamanna3Hehe okay, Ben. Or murry , I'll alternate between the two then :)
Ahh sure. That evolving is welcome!
maestralNo one does magic better than you. Wonderful poem with so many intricate and poignant layers. Its sombre mood and the nearly monochrome palette that you wield here are both disturbing and alluring. This is epic (and, that is something I have very rarely labelled any poem with). Your poetry is superlative Ben. Keep writing!
murryben@landscape good morning coral. I don't know if you have ever come across this but this is something I have always been proud of . For the fact I had enough courage in me to write this and be honest to myself and my father. I hope you will give this a read and not repost it. Thank you very much for your precious time already.
landscape@murryben Hey Ben, Good morning. First of all, thank you for the tag. This is something that would have needed a heap of courage and ability to express. The fact that the mindset of people in this society confines a closet, males shouldn't express their emotions. Rather they should gather themselves to be the epitome of so called strength. They are still ignorant of the reality that a father goes through struggles and challenges, also, they are humans above all. They should express themselves. We must extend our hand or be a pillar of support to our fathers. This is a thought provoking write and imageries are put to the finest. Congratulations!
murryben@landscape good evening coral. Thank you very much for going through my tags. I could reply only now because I was busy with work. You've said it. It's a shame the society always expects men to man up. A bigger shame because if they don't "man up", they become segregated and stereotyped under certain names This is a personal poem as you can see. Your thoughts are lovely. As for reposting this, there is really no problem at all. Please go ahead if you want. I will also appreciate it if you can tag me in a few of your poems. I have only been acquainted with you and your poems. I shall make it my prerogative to go through your feed even if you don't tag.