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    AC Benus
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Stories 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. 

My Twentieth Year - 15. summer night

Poem No. 34

 

Prelude:

 

When love's not love…

And has apathy only for hate…

When the sincerest insult is to tell the truth…

 

 

Poem:

 

On a summer night

When the heat is past its height

I lie awake

And wonder just what's at stake

 

My dream's a depressing sea

On a boat un-tethered but still not free

Sailing through a fog I cannot master

Because the mist simply rolls in faster.

 

I float along in the windward lee

Sensing the weight of utter despair, she,

Is a power that I won't be able to shake,

And could sink me perhaps before I wake.

Copyright © 2017 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories 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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OMG AC
I've had this poem open in a tab on my browser from nearly the time you posted it. That's nearly 5 hours!
I like it. I like it a lot. But I have trouble expressing exactly why that is.
Add the fact I read it first without considering the prelude which had my mind going in a different direction, since the sea and I are such buddies. The prelude then jolted me onto a different heading, if you'll pardon the expression.
Then, of course :pinch: , there is the fact I'm so poor with anything poetic.

 

It does evoke a color: dark gray, but with white points of light.
I think it would be best for all concerned if I leave it at, I like it.

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On a boat un-tethered but still not free
Sailing through a fog I cannot master
I love these lines. They are simple but jump out at me.
I am free, but tethered by my thoughts and insecurities, they hold me back, stop me.
We cannot master life or love, not really.
Don't know if thats what you had in mind, but it's what i'm feeling.
Your poetry is just becoming, AC, each better than the last, we are seeing you become the writer who writes things like Joshua Tree. Incredible.
Love this one.
tim xo

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On 04/19/2016 11:35 AM, skinnydragon said:

OMG AC

I've had this poem open in a tab on my browser from nearly the time you posted it. That's nearly 5 hours!

I like it. I like it a lot. But I have trouble expressing exactly why that is.

Add the fact I read it first without considering the prelude which had my mind going in a different direction, since the sea and I are such buddies. The prelude then jolted me onto a different heading, if you'll pardon the expression.

Then, of course :pinch: , there is the fact I'm so poor with anything poetic.

 

It does evoke a color: dark gray, but with white points of light.

I think it would be best for all concerned if I leave it at, I like it.

I asked you in private, just so I assure myself you had the browser open by choice ;) I guess you did keep coming back to this poem, and I thank and love that it connects with you.

 

When I found it recently and typed it up, I will admit saying to myself, "Now, okay. Here's a poem."

 

Am I allowed to say I think it's great too…? Not sure….

 

Anyway, thanks for all your support. It means a great to me, and never feel you'll not getting your feelings across. You do just fine, Mr. Dragon.

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On 04/20/2016 10:51 AM, Mikiesboy said:

On a boat un-tethered but still not free

Sailing through a fog I cannot master

I love these lines. They are simple but jump out at me.

I am free, but tethered by my thoughts and insecurities, they hold me back, stop me.

We cannot master life or love, not really.

Don't know if thats what you had in mind, but it's what i'm feeling.

Your poetry is just becoming, AC, each better than the last, we are seeing you become the writer who writes things like Joshua Tree. Incredible.

Love this one.

tim xo

Love the review, Tim. Your interpretation is a fine one, and since it was quite a long time ago, I do not recall the circumstance of writing this poem. I know at the time, I often got out of bed and jotted things down.

 

I was quite taken – and quite frankly surprised – by the quality of this poem when I found it in my folder recently.

 

Sometimes I think my themes as a poet are too narrow, and that I simply make ever expanding or narrowing spirals around the same subjects, but perhaps this one got it all right for once.

 

Thanks, Tim. Your support means a lot to me.

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This is powerfully resonant with me. The scene your prelude prepared me for, followed by the poem itself, utterly describe an unbearably tense and unhappy night. Agree with Tim's observation about the tension between freedom and binding you express. Beneath the surface of the sea we sleep upon we the real dangers that can destroy. But you say this far more compellingly than I can summarize.
Yes, you can say you think it's good...no disagreement from this quarter.

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On 04/26/2016 11:08 PM, Parker Owens said:

This is powerfully resonant with me. The scene your prelude prepared me for, followed by the poem itself, utterly describe an unbearably tense and unhappy night. Agree with Tim's observation about the tension between freedom and binding you express. Beneath the surface of the sea we sleep upon we the real dangers that can destroy. But you say this far more compellingly than I can summarize.

Yes, you can say you think it's good...no disagreement from this quarter.

Thanks, Parker. This is a beautiful review. And although it may sound odd, your comments about "Beneath the surface of the sea we sleep upon" actually makes me recall the feel of my dormitory mattress. A bit lumpy and uncomfortable, perhaps a few years past its replacement date, and upon which many of these sleepless poems were generated.

 

I had not thought about what it was like to sleep there for years, perhaps never, so I thank you for that. I also thank you for all of your support; you're awesome.

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