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AC Benus

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AC Benus last won the day on June 14 2017

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About AC Benus

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    Love, cooking, history, classical writings, Queer politics, chatting with friends, finding more in common with everyone than I thought possible, architecture, design, dogs, Airedales

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  1. AC Benus

    Lyrics for K.

    Thanks, Mike. I wish I could give you a ‘hug’ emoji, but the ‘love’ one will do very nicely 😊 Thank you for reading and commenting
  2. Lyric No. 12


    Ballade des sens


    Sometimes a lost breeze will bring you to me,

    Simply because of its kinship to scent

    I find well-known; whose cleanliness can free

    The place in my mind where I keep you pent –

    Where your manly smell’s allowed to present  

    The joys it feels like to be pulled to you

    Before any drop of passion is spent,

    So I might fall into your arms anew.


    Sometimes a guy will laugh a certain way –

    Settled, his bass resonance like your sound –

    Shimm’ring as lure in the manner you’d say

    It was time for us to be bedward bound;

    For there that note would great music expound

    From my framework ringing all through and through,

    When once my deepest parts your voice had found

    So I might fall into your arms anew.


    Sometimes the mere brush of the sheet’s enough

    To centralize memory’s closed sensation

    And your touch return, both tender and rough,

    Gripping me to heightened meditation,

    Ready to take your profoundest stroke too

    Where our pulses join in expectation

    So I might fall into your arms anew.


    Sometimes my eyes close to see more clearly,

    And when they do, I spy your little smile,

    The one you make and bite your lip merely

    To whet the edge of my want for awhile,

    Letting me watch your pleasure spread in style

    Hov’ring over my mouth, those eyes to view,

    Pausing as you enter to gauge my trial,

    So I might fall into your arms anew.


    What taste then over-washes my senses,

    Primal and fresh; primordial and bold;

    The essence of you without pretenses

    Sinks into me now like the days of old,

    Slaking my thirst where our lips are ensouled,

    But instilling a need that must make do

    When you flood only recollection’s hold

    So I might fall into your arms anew.




    Kevin, my heart with your past seems all blent,

    But my sixth sense always trusts what is true,

    Knowing the light of your love never went

    So I might fall into your arms anew.       



    Lyric No. 13


    Does every weary heart contain a ghost?

    One which must be given up at some point

    When the flesh no longer can play the host,

    But still mourns with broken tears that anoint….

    For you it seems my inmost soul is dead,

    Rebuking my shell for continuing

    As if there were any more to be said;

    Like flowers in dirt, an ‘Amen’ strewing.

    Yet, I met a man who took both in hand,

    The way you used to do, and he could feel

    The fracture tween clay and spirit you demand

    And patched all smooth again to finally heal.

    No more quiet, self-fired immolation –

    I’m done with dying through fragmentation.






    1. Show previous comments  2 more
    2. MichaelS36


      Each of them are wonderful AC!! 

    3. Drew Payne

      Drew Payne

      I liked the images you created with your lyrics.

    4. Lyssa


      Those are as amazing and sensual, as I rememberd them. So wondeful. 🙂

  3. Ran into a little song this morning. Hope it inspires you; it's about preachin' "in church" ;)


  4. If you're looking for dating advice, let Alberta Hunter help 


  5. It’s a rose from my front garden. I took this picture a couple days ago, and yesterday it was raining when I left home in the morning. Steady rain like we’ve been having is a bit unusual for May, as we’re entering a dry period now (won’t rain again until November).
  6. Tanka: May rain falls upon Roses already in bloom – When Nature dictates Gilding Iilies, all is fair For hearts then at war with love.
  7. A definite must-read! The skill of the author shows in how he takes us on a realistic journey into these peoples' lives. Be prepared to meet and fall in love with not only a kid needing a safe place to live, but also with Louis' mom and aunt (and her gf) back on "The Rock." There is so much life, vitality, and above all, love shown in this work, you will not fail to be captivated. Keep some tissues handy though, because like real life, sometimes things get complicated. Read this!
  8. You mentioned pestering me, and not being sorry 😋 I'm glad you're not sorry either. This was the first poem cited in the Tender Tiger book that I tried my hand at. I showed it to you, and you objected to my reading. As I do usually in such cases, I set the poem aside. I was not willing to give up my interpretation entirely, believing I knew a key to unlocking it existed, but I respected your opinion and reasonings for saying I missed the mark. After setting it aside, I was compelled to try other poems of Goethe, and slowly, I made my key work. Or put another way, I was able to make the several disparate parts of 'Goethe' work in my emotional view of the man. It was only a lucky accident that I rediscovered this abandoned attempt and looked at it with more experienced eyes. Your final critical push gave me wonderful clarity, and the poem seemed to make such simple sense at last. In your comments here, the most wonderful to me is hearing how you read both versions aloud and can feel the poem in both. I always want to give both the feel and relish of a poem in translation if I'm able to. I try to pay tribute to it on all the levels if I can, and pray I can keep them in balance. Thank you, once more, for your support. It means a great deal to me
  9. Well, here it is almost a month later, and I missed my chance to come back in a timely manner. Belated, but, I need to say you are my guide and lodestone when it comes to feeling German poetry. If not for this Tender Tiger book exploring Goethe's same-sex loves, and YOU telling me about it ( ), I would never have ventured into thinking about doing more of his work in English than his The Violet poem (as lyrics to Mozart's song version). You opened up a vista to me. As I mention somewhere, Goethe in English translation is this monolithic man of stone. I can honestly assure you, I had no idea he was a poet as passionate and sensual as Walt Whitman, but now I know he is. This beating heart of passion and yes, tenderness too, is totally missing from the man in translations that exist in my mother tongue. That you say I can "do him" right humbles me. You friendship and support has been all important to me, and it's something which matters to me deeply. I have gained depth as a poet by simply understanding this stone statue of a man has one of the most beautiful of beating human hearts underneath. How would I have ever discovered that without you...? For that, and for many more gifts you have given me, a million thanks and kisses. Muah!
  10. I'm sorry for being slow in answering all your wonderful comments to this piece. Life is getting in the way a bit, but know your thoughts and support mean a great deal to me. I'll be answering as soon as I can make worthwhile replies
  11. Brian poem No. 34


    What can all the fierce greenness of spring

    possibly mean to a heart without love.


    The emptiness there

    cannot be filled by

    the entire intake of the eyes.


    I cannot see the spring for its worth;

    cannot fill my heart empty of your love.




    1. Lyssa


      Wonderful poem. I guess, spring is not only the time seeing life awake, but also a reminder of passing away and transition. But what does this all mean without love, or if one you care about is not there anymore. For me, I listen to the cuckcoo call remembering what it stands for. Hugs

  12. . Poem No. 30 My worth is gilded with grime, Leaving nothing to me Except inexpressible longing. Poem No. 31 There must be no retreat from the fact. I must return every look for the value it was given, with no fear that it was ever less or more. I must force my sun to rise, for they to see, the ‘they’ for whom my light will have its meaning. Poem No. 32 Must I stay in this mask of my own making, Pretending the world knows not the difference Between who I am and the possibilities forsaken, Showing only mistaken deliverance? And so, as the option wanes, and I for want of better, look at what little remains, by turning it into a burden. Any longer need I the mask indeed, But for the weight of years of feared accusing. Poem No. 33 My brand of sorrow is their livelihood; their brand of sadness is my muse. A Poem about the Psychiatric Profession _
  13. Thanks for your kind support, Tim. You've certainly grown as a wonderfully connected poet since I've known you. Keep up the great work!
  14. Thanks for reading it, Lyssa. I appreciate it!
  15. I've posted this little essay for everyone working on the Couplets Poetry Prompt challenge. Let me know what you think :)



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