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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. 

A Man in a Room, and other poems - 17. three poems for the month of June

Poem No. 44

 

Prelude:

 

How can we spend our whole lives

looking at something, but still

never see it once?

 

Maybe in the same way we

spend our whole lives looking

for something, when all the time

it's in front of our eyes.

 

 

Poem:

 

The key to a happy life

lies in the fact of living

that all the pain and strife

is caused by useless striving

 

In two ways we suffer

from the danger of the moment

we look to the future with hunger

and we mangle the past spotless

 

We can't see the past remains

what the present is to us

nor can we see future pains

that lie there waiting for us

 

Our thoughts are filled with misery

caused by our own stupidity

handed to us by history

we think through our own timidity

 

There is joy in the act of living

this is what I have come to believe

do birds complain because they are breathing?

then why do we need to grieve

 

The key to a happy life

is within your beating heart

why not listen to it for a change?

you may recognize and like its melody

 

We are not born to suffer

and yet we act in that way

life is no sadder

that a blade of grass grew in your day

 

 

Postlude:

 

I dread the morning and what it means,

for I know I'll awake to nothing.

 

 

 

Poem No. 45

 

The day when I learned

that learning is more than grades

is the day I started teaching myself.

 

 

 

Poem No. 46

 

In Summer's song

 

Crickets cry

for a lonely mate

hoping for a happy fate,

while thinking that it can't be long.

 

You silly beast

why aren’t you building monuments,

don’t you care about your dead skin,

don’t you know, you're not living in the least…?

 

You don’t write books

you don’t have electric companies –

you don’t care about things that do

you don’t care what I think.

 

A silly beast

am I for not joining you

in Summer's song.

 

_

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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I am touched by every single one of these, AC. No. 44 is painfully accurate to how so many of us live our lives. Why can't we appreciate what we have instead of yearning for more? That discontent and the need to strive for more and more and more is somehow wired into our psyches. No. 45 is succinct and perfect. No. 46 illustrates not only the symphony of summer songs but also the plight of crickets and other creatures that do not live long in this world, just as summer never does, just as humans never do.

 

Thank for sharing these gems with us.

  • Love 1

Number 44 is so full of hard thoughts and questions about time and effect that I had to read it several times. Then I realized you'd made me live in several moments at once - anticipation, present and reaction. And that's so much of number 44. I could quote each stanza for a quote and discussion.

 

But of course, number 45 is a quote for the ages, in and of itself. 

 

And number 46; I smile a little as I listen to the crickets singing loudly outside my window tonight. They create nothing but summer's unending song, the accompaniment to sunshine and blue sky. And yet there is cold in this week's forecast. Unlike the cricket, we may not be so willing to end our season without some mark or memorial. So you put it far more elegantly than I ever could. 

  • Love 1

44.  Happiness..we want it, look for it, try to make it and like Dorothy said and you are saying, it is within you, in your own backyard.  Yet we are never satisfied with our job, or our homes, or that poem or this story.  We must continue on to make and desire.  But why?

 

45 is just a mass of truth in 3 lines.

 

46. Crickets and humans we are bound together, as is all life. Each is a necessary cog or wheel.. but why?  I know i will never understand it.  I left my building the other morning and there, dying was a cicada. Giant and ugly .. and to us a useles noisy thing.  It's life cycle weird beyond reason, yet it would be missed if gone ... but are they and we even good for .. too many questions  with few answers. 

 

Your poetry is always thought provoking.  xo

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On 9/24/2017 at 5:14 PM, MacGreg said:

I am touched by every single one of these, AC. No. 44 is painfully accurate to how so many of us live our lives. Why can't we appreciate what we have instead of yearning for more? That discontent and the need to strive for more and more and more is somehow wired into our psyches. No. 45 is succinct and perfect. No. 46 illustrates not only the symphony of summer songs but also the plight of crickets and other creatures that do not live long in this world, just as summer never does, just as humans never do.

 

Thank for sharing these gems with us.

Thank you, Mac. A wonderful review, especially moving is the end that touches upon the brief season of man. Maybe there are 'higher' lifeforms looking down on our simplicity and making comment on it among themselves. 

 

Thanks again for your support. I appreciate it.

 

  • Like 1
On 9/24/2017 at 6:47 PM, Parker Owens said:

Number 44 is so full of hard thoughts and questions about time and effect that I had to read it several times. Then I realized you'd made me live in several moments at once - anticipation, present and reaction. And that's so much of number 44. I could quote each stanza for a quote and discussion.

 

But of course, number 45 is a quote for the ages, in and of itself. 

 

And number 46; I smile a little as I listen to the crickets singing loudly outside my window tonight. They create nothing but summer's unending song, the accompaniment to sunshine and blue sky. And yet there is cold in this week's forecast. Unlike the cricket, we may not be so willing to end our season without some mark or memorial. So you put it far more elegantly than I ever could. 

Thank you, Parker. Wow, your take on No. 44 is impressive. I love the experiential relationship you had with it, and feel honored.

 

The same goes for your interactions with Nos. 45 and 46. There are some things I miss living in the city. Wide-open skies at night, with an ever evolving moon amidst clouds; the smell of hay, sweet grasses and wild flowers growing on the margins of road; and crickets. So much beauty is in a country night.

 

Thanks again :) 

On 9/24/2017 at 7:32 PM, Defiance19 said:

To 45 I say amen! 

 

Again you give me pause, AC.  You draw such perfect attention to matters we often don’t want to/like to acknowledge.. 

 

Another wonderful set. 

Thank you, Def. I guess I have always been a poet, drawn to and thinking about what I've seen. Thanks again for your wonderful support and encouragement.

On 9/25/2017 at 10:55 AM, Mikiesboy said:

44.  Happiness..we want it, look for it, try to make it and like Dorothy said and you are saying, it is within you, in your own backyard.  Yet we are never satisfied with our job, or our homes, or that poem or this story.  We must continue on to make and desire.  But why?

 

45 is just a mass of truth in 3 lines.

 

46. Crickets and humans we are bound together, as is all life. Each is a necessary cog or wheel.. but why?  I know i will never understand it.  I left my building the other morning and there, dying was a cicada. Giant and ugly .. and to us a useles noisy thing.  It's life cycle weird beyond reason, yet it would be missed if gone ... but are they and we even good for .. too many questions  with few answers. 

 

Your poetry is always thought provoking.  xo

On No. 44, why indeed. Buddhists say every worldly desire is an allusion that we should shun. They also know that worldly worry is another mental addiction mankind is prone to suffer. And so it goes....

 

Cicadas are another of those summertime creatures. So harmless to man, and yet we seem to act offended by their existence. Maybe we should try a seven-year hibernation in the ground. Who knows? It may help our evolution.    

 

Thanks again, Tim, for your awesome thoughts on these poems and your unflagging support.

On 9/25/2017 at 12:15 PM, Headstall said:

A thought-provoking journey, AC. I strongly related to the questions you posed and the observations you made. Prelude was the perfect beginning, and the self-deprecating sarcasm as you admit who the real silly beast is... a perfect ending. Cheers....

Thanks for your comments, Gary. I appreciate them a great deal. 

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