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    AC Benus
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Twenty-Two Early Poems - 4. left behind

.

Poem No. 10

 

Delusions

 

Sometimes when I'm alone

Just spending the day at home

I sit and dream of the day

When my children will come and say

"Papa, what was war?"

 

"What was it like when men would die

and mothers and children could only cry

to know that life no longer filled their lungs,

that the joy of being could no longer be sung?

 

"And what of hatred, Papa, do tell

could men really fall under its spell

could men under its lure be sane

to inflict such sorrow and pain?

Papa, what of war?"

 

 

Poem No. 11

 

Thoughts of words

 

I wish I could fill the page with words to an end,

A flowing stream, through eternity to send;

Through tragedy and sin, a thought to reclaim,

A finely flowing thing forever to blame.

Words stronger than a fortress to stand against time,

Phrases so grand, so lovely, tender – forever sublime.

 

 

Poem No. 12

 

My face will fall

and my hair will lay

my skin just fall away

leaving bones about the hall.

 

It is simple fate

but men deny

that it is human to die

as certain as hate

 

but, if these words stand

unchanged by time and mind

a piece of me will be left behind.

 

 

_

Copyright © 2017 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Liked them all, but 12 was my favourite. I just kept thinking this was a very old soul that wrote these even though you were a kid.
Don't know your age for the first one, but I wasn't thinking about having kids at 14. I just find the difference in thoughts is interesting. Not because of my life,but I honestly don't think I'd have been thinking that way, in any case.
Thank you for sharing. I'll be back.
tim

  • Like 1

I don't know why AC, but these three remind me of my youth as well. I spent a lot of time by myself, looking at the world around me, and wishing it were better...most kids as teens are concerned with friends, cars and just Doing--it didn't matter what.
For me, my head was filled with antique images of pleasure domes, Ozymandine statues and decaying halls where Greatness once held sway. It was probably dumb, but I imagined myself the Inheritor of an ancient Burden of History and forgotten places which could no longer be reached...and I'd dream of attaining those lost times and locales, but afraid that my contribution would be lost among all that had gone before.
Not for me the disillusionment of corrupt politicians, gas lines and hapless self-centered indulgence of the failed Summer of Love...I had my refuge in ancient tales and eroded poetry on stone monuments.
Thank you for evoking those days when my dreams were 'vaster than Empires and more slow...'

  • Like 1

Poem 11 leads to 12 for me. I understood the need to make our mark, especially with words. We die, it's inevitable... but words can live forever. I get the first poem because war touched my families in ways that lasted long after the battles were fought. It was a constant to be abhorred... in this way it reminded me of my youth... great work... it is standing the test of time... cheers... Gary...

  • Like 1

Youth wants answers to eternal questions. What is war can be answered. What of war. Is there an answer to that ?

 

Immoratlity. Bestowed upon only a few, who's works, long after the human flesh has decayed, are still read, listened to or looked at. But most of us after one, two or maybe three generations, are forgotten as the memories die out.

 

Delusions, indeed. But keep aspiring for leaving a piece of you behind !

  • Like 1
On 09/19/2015 08:09 AM, Mikiesboy said:

Liked them all, but 12 was my favourite. I just kept thinking this was a very old soul that wrote these even though you were a kid.

Don't know your age for the first one, but I wasn't thinking about having kids at 14. I just find the difference in thoughts is interesting. Not because of my life,but I honestly don't think I'd have been thinking that way, in any case.

Thank you for sharing. I'll be back.

tim

Thank you, Tim. Wow, everyone has left me such nice reviews for these…I'm a bit…well, surprised…? lol.

 

The 'Papa what was war' one was written when I was seventeen. I believe I was more going for a 'grand poem' than actually believing that I'd be a father one day.

 

Thanks for your support and a great review. I appreciate it!

On 09/19/2015 12:39 PM, ColumbusGuy said:

I don't know why AC, but these three remind me of my youth as well. I spent a lot of time by myself, looking at the world around me, and wishing it were better...most kids as teens are concerned with friends, cars and just Doing--it didn't matter what.

For me, my head was filled with antique images of pleasure domes, Ozymandine statues and decaying halls where Greatness once held sway. It was probably dumb, but I imagined myself the Inheritor of an ancient Burden of History and forgotten places which could no longer be reached...and I'd dream of attaining those lost times and locales, but afraid that my contribution would be lost among all that had gone before.

Not for me the disillusionment of corrupt politicians, gas lines and hapless self-centered indulgence of the failed Summer of Love...I had my refuge in ancient tales and eroded poetry on stone monuments.

Thank you for evoking those days when my dreams were 'vaster than Empires and more slow...'

Thank you, my friend. I suppose you have sussed out that you and I were both teens spending more time in our heads than out with friends, etc. Well, at least for me it was that way.

 

I hadn't quite put these youthful poems of mine in a 'romantic' bucket, but there must be a part of that here as well. In fact, there are only about 3 or 4 poems from this period that I decided to leave out of this collection. Two are about Scotland (which I went to the summer I was 17), and one about music.

 

Aside from those, there are many more really early poems (from about 14-15) that all deal with Christmas. There is so much of that material, I think it can make its own little volume (but they're not very good, so be warned).

 

Thanks for the review and support.

On 09/19/2015 01:43 PM, Headstall said:

Poem 11 leads to 12 for me. I understood the need to make our mark, especially with words. We die, it's inevitable... but words can live forever. I get the first poem because war touched my families in ways that lasted long after the battles were fought. It was a constant to be abhorred... in this way it reminded me of my youth... great work... it is standing the test of time... cheers... Gary...

Thank you, Gary, for a great review. Ten, eleven and twelve were all written within a few weeks of each other the summer I was seventeen. That was quite a spurt of activity for me at the time, as nine was written 6-months before, and if I wrote any poems in-between, I do not have them.

 

Thanks for your kind words and support. I appreciate it.

On 09/20/2015 12:58 AM, Defiance19 said:

Like Gary, these bled into each other for me too. I wonder when you wrote them if that was intentional. Very thought provoking this set.

This reminds me why it's important to have a care now, because what we leave behind, our legacy, is so critical to future generations.

I'm still processing the age at which you wrote these.

Thanks, Defiance19, for a great review. Oh, I answered Gary's review with when I wrote them, and that they were written pretty close together.

 

At this age, I was pretty sublimated. Why I'd be thinking of these things is probably all wrapped up with me not seeing myself as a 'productive member of society,' and maybe hoping I could still contribute something through repression.

 

Thanks again, I appreciate the support.

On 09/20/2015 02:50 AM, J.HunterDunn said:

Youth wants answers to eternal questions. What is war can be answered. What of war. Is there an answer to that ?

 

Immoratlity. Bestowed upon only a few, who's works, long after the human flesh has decayed, are still read, listened to or looked at. But most of us after one, two or maybe three generations, are forgotten as the memories die out.

 

Delusions, indeed. But keep aspiring for leaving a piece of you behind !

Thanks, Peter. I love your provocative read on my slight shift of wording in the war poem. I can't say what I had in mind all those years ago, but I love to experience someone thinking about it. Especially if they are offering such generous thoughts ;)

 

I might as well put down here that I intend to take a pic or two of my green folder from this period. The one that is overflowing with loose-leaf verse of the kind presented here. Maybe I can even find the original of the war poem to show you how bad my scribble has always been. If I don't decipher them now, I doubt anybody else will be able to…

On 01/19/2016 08:35 AM, Roberto Zuniga said:

Poem No 12 reminded me of the inevitability of death. I haven't shared how terrified I am of it. AC, once again, your words just send chills down my spine. What a wonderful soul you are.

Thank you again, Roberto! It gives me an awesome feeling to read that one of my poems sent a shiver down your spine.

 

Thanks for reading and commenting on these.

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