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    AC Benus
  • AC Benus
  • Author
  • 04/09/2018
  • 237 Words
  • 1,467 Views
  • 6 Comments
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. 

One Hundred and Fifty-Five Sonnets - 43. allowed

.

Sonnet No. 85

 

Around me, baking apples scent the house,

While outside, burning leaves smoke in the clear –

And the season to my mood is like a spouse,

For autumn is the coziest time of year.

But, now with you, my bundled warmth I'll share,

And chilled fingers will soon be warmed by yours,

As hand-in-hand we will walk anywhere

The bracing wind wends our steps out-of-doors.

The smoldering leaves and sight of orange pumpkin

Take me back to the joys of childhood,

And in my languor boots adrenaline

In a way that nothing else ever could.

For this year I will see fall by your side,

And as kids again, we'll ride autumn's tide.

 

      

Sonnet No. 86

 

There is such hubris and conceit in Man

That not even evidence is good enough

If it contradicts some arbitrary ban

Which pigheaded Will says it must rebuff.

The Hets must take all of our past from us:

No tomb for ancient partners is allowed –

No room for out artists 'that' to discuss –

Wikipedia whitewashes in a cloud.

Our past for us is from hand-to-hand passed;

From soft word-of-mouth, and from heart-to-heart,

A lover to his beloved, so at last

Sacred knowledge with Love can never part.

Let them refute this, all they want to try –

Our love is real, and that they can't deny.

 

 

_ 

Copyright © 2018 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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Chapter Comments

Parker Owens

Your number 86 stands out to me because of much that’s been erased, marked out or removed. It stirs and makes one stand taller.  I only get to learn just as your words suggest: soft word of mouth, and from heart to heart. And yes, this Love is undeniable. 

 

Number 85 is an autumn painting, full of colored leaves and crisp air. I can smell the woodsmoke. And in that idyll, you take us back to a kind of love that believes all things and hopes all things, and embraces. 

 

Thank you for each of these. 

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Mikiesboy

Read these on my way home. 85 was just wonderful.. makes me long for autumn.. nearly.  But you brought the season alive.

You and i have talked often about our history being erased, changed to suit those who would like us gone, poetry rewritten or altered to hide it's truth. Lots may want it to happen, but just as many or more say no.

 

Thank you for writing about us and our history, AC. No one writes men in love, like you do. xo

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FormerMember4

These are beautiful AC.

In 85, I’m enveloped in the season with love and aroma. Reminds me of apple orchards and wood burning back home on the east coast.

I love 86, it’s said with authority. Stories will be remembered and passed on. Not erased and forgotten. This is written by a man of strength and determination.

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AC Benus
On 4/9/2018 at 2:46 PM, Parker Owens said:

Your number 86 stands out to me because of much that’s been erased, marked out or removed. It stirs and makes one stand taller.  I only get to learn just as your words suggest: soft word of mouth, and from heart to heart. And yes, this Love is undeniable. 

 

Number 85 is an autumn painting, full of colored leaves and crisp air. I can smell the woodsmoke. And in that idyll, you take us back to a kind of love that believes all things and hopes all things, and embraces. 

 

Thank you for each of these. 

Thank you, Parker. Your comments are beautiful. To call No. 85 a painting is wonderful feedback for me. 

 

As for the message contained in No. 86, I wish it were not true, but this disallowal of any queer space, even on the internet, is sad testament to their continued discomfort with the truth. 

 

Someday is all I can hope... 

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AC Benus
On 4/9/2018 at 3:14 PM, Mikiesboy said:

Read these on my way home. 85 was just wonderful.. makes me long for autumn.. nearly.  But you brought the season alive.

You and i have talked often about our history being erased, changed to suit those who would like us gone, poetry rewritten or altered to hide it's truth. Lots may want it to happen, but just as many or more say no.

 

Thank you for writing about us and our history, AC. No one writes men in love, like you do. xo

Yes, Tim, autumn is not the time of year you want to embrace this spring with no warmth. Hopefully the weather will turn where you are. The flowers will be blooming soon enough. 

 

Thanks for your comments and continued support. It means the world to me.

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AC Benus
On 4/10/2018 at 8:12 AM, BlindAmbition said:

These are beautiful AC.

In 85, I’m enveloped in the season with love and aroma. Reminds me of apple orchards and wood burning back home on the east coast.

I love 86, it’s said with authority. Stories will be remembered and passed on. Not erased and forgotten. This is written by a man of strength and determination.

Thank you, JP, for reading these! As for burning leave and apples, the two put me in mind of how women of the Lutheran church in my home town would spend October days making apple butter for charity. On the school yard, they'd set up a huge trivet and gigantic copper cauldron. Then they'd stir and stir for hours over the open flame. To me, that slightly smoky taste is what apple butter is supposed to be like.

 

Thanks again for reading. I really appreciate it!  

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