Oh you look,
So beautiful,
When you dance.
I found you,
Staring,
Out your window.
In the purple moonlight,
You saw my scars,
And I allowed you,
To explore me,
To your heart's content.
In her eyes,
She begged me,
To have this dance,
She implored me to.
And I'll allow her that much.
The music stopped,
And her song began,
And she danced so gracefully in her stained red dress.
Her song stopped,
And the silence,
Began.
By Ben Jones
It sits upon me like a lead weight,
Yet today I welcome the pressure.
A harmonic, sailing, across my unblinking eye.
My train of thought reverses itself,
Extrapolating a new dimension from all around me.
Comfort in the unknown.
I can't breathe today.
My thoughts are an ocean,
Yet my mind is beached and landlocked,
And the sands are shifting below.
Hollow and old like a dead tree,
Can I even hold my own weight anymore?
It felt like it did years ago,
But hindsight's 20/20 and I can't see shit.
A multiple of itself in my head begins to form again,
And I'd watch it dance into the sunset,
If it wasn't taking me with it.
By Ben Jones
Monotony.
Repeating.
Itself.
Always.
Repeating.
Itself.
I.
Repeat.
Myself.
In.
My.
Monotony.
By Ben Jones
The phone is ringing.
A perfect day.
Sunlight streaming through the bay windows, tinted blue from the cloudless sky above.
The phone is ringing.
A discordance amongst harmony, a disturbance in the surroundings.
Yet it sooths the mood of the room. Adds reality to an otherwise still life. An element of the uncertain.
The phone is ringing.
The uncertain fills the room.
The perfection wavers, realising itself and its own vunerability in the face of uncertainty. A cloud drifts suspiciously across the spotless blue canvas.
The phone is ringing.
The clock ticking.
A metronome to the beat of time. A rhythm for the uncertain. A spot of rain on the glass.
The phone is ringing.
By Ben Jones
I'm sorry,
Did I interrupt you again with my incoherent ramblings? I know,
I promised it would stop, but you can't stop.
Something that never had a beginning. No, wait.
That came out wrong.
Let me reitterate.
It lives beyond me, yet it carves out my life in a sandstone block the size of the universe.
Oh, did you forget the little things?
As I crawl up this bloody hillside, will you allow for an uneven path, upon which I can rest my aching feet? We've been talking for hours, and I'm bored of your useless metaphors.
Oh, wait,
I forgot again...
And it collapses in on itself,
Sometimes it feels like just enough,
And everything just fits,
Sometimes it feels like too much,
And everything bursts at the seams,
And sometimes it just doesn't feel at all.
By Ben Jones
Thermal ripples distort perception,
Begging the question "What is?"
My string flaps freely in the morning breeze but I know where I am headed and my universe completes itself alone.
Zero static.
Free floating in the superfluid lifestream that I call "Home". It helped me once again to locate the beaten track, invisible though it may be, but visible like daylight, when you see for yourself that which can never be seen.
I am everywhere and nowhere, like an orbiting electron, yet it only heightens my perception of all things and I am humiliated and shamed, wishing only for my string and
Zero static.
Free floating in that superfluid called "Home"
I'll watch it all kalaedoscope
Into its component parts,
And watch you gaze,
As I string it all together again.
By Ben Jones
A while ago I found myself in an awkward situation in which I lost a part of my self soul oneness and I could not see beyond my plane -
Ergo I found myself in a thread of the continuum I did not and could not understand, and it me neither, leading to a semimagnetic repulsion of entities.
I could not see myself.
My world was full of bullshit entities feeding me static and false transmissions, which my subconscious noise filter could not translate, and my soul began to fragment, I felt a tear begin -
My perception of all things material and metaphysical became mired in the subsonic phenomena and my receptors were clogged in immaterial, leading to a misconception of my surroundings and a polarisation of certain portions of my being, ultimately beginning a divide in my internal energies.
I could not see myself.
Slowly I felt this discordance in my self and realised my karmic errors, and my pixilated soul began its reformation. I began my journey to the distant shores of internal harmony and became more and more aware of
the
distances
involved
in this long strangled route, and I faltered
On my haunches, awaiting a feeling past and a reversal of entropy, and almost began a reorganisation of my internal being and a polarity shift I would not have survived -
My ambient self became aware once more and my continuum thread took me to another quadrant of existence and I understood myself, and my tangled silken strands of what has been began to make sense the more I focused upon them.
Slowly I relearned the diatonic similarities in my self soul oneness and began arranging them in harmonious synchronisation, oscillating my being into a polyphonic epiphany with my surrounding energies, and though a serious quantum shift had threatened to distort my continuum to it's elastic limit, my internal life source dampened the magnetic disrhythms, and I began to see myself again.
Chaotic is my existence, but focused and proportional to itself, beyond my understanding
of all realms metaphysical.
By Ben Jones
Brilliant light broadens my horizons to the point where I can see in four dimensions, but it never made a difference until you noticed.
You understood me without that but now you shy away like a mouse in a kitchen.
Please understand where my fate will lead me and be accepting of the things neither you or I can change.
I broke my arm hanging off a cliff for you and plunged into myself before you even knew what hit you,
Yet you still followed my trail to the centre of me, and then you understood.
I belong here.
By Ben Jones
Broken and shattered by differing angles of judgement,
Maybe my self-destructive friend will break a sweat for me.
Now I'll find myself,
Trapped,
Under a weight of abusive subtexts,
And once more,
I'll do it to myself again,
Only to begrudge you all for looking.
Hide myself,
Away,
Under a shelter of starlight and blue skies,
A perfect harmony of ignorance and bliss,
And yet it still leaks from my exhaust.
Broken and shattered, let me lie here,
In peace.
By Ben Jones
So when the veil falls,
All is revealed,
Like a puppet in a shadow play.
Stripped naked,
Held,
Like a Deer in their headlights.
It freezes you from the feet upwards,
Until you're so still,
The thoughts don't even travel.
The blood slows in your veins,
And like an earthquake,
It hits you.
Confusion replaces embarresment,
And tortured becomes the soul,
Until,
broken,
afraid,
alone,
it all starts over...
Did it make me blink? Or was that just my eyes playing tricks on me again?
I swear it wasn't there when I left...
A gaping wound in the very essence of things, perpetuating vibrations all around the whole or the part or the sum of the square of the parts, wavelength inconclusive. A universe is born, and now it needs a mind to fill...
I swear I told you before. It wasn't the singularity, but many of them, and repeating over tens of thousands of light years, and I understood them all...
Breathtaking. An understatement.
A microcosm in a microcosm in a microcosm in a microcosm, forever until infinity, and yet that describes it none at all. Fractally proportional to oneself, you would never react quick enough to escape the gravity of the situation.
I swear I told you before, I understood them all. An understatement.
Before me lay the starfields I once roamed, and beyond them the void sucked life from me unified with all else...
Consciousness flits from vassal to vassal, like a thousand fireflies in a moonlit serenade, but is it not out of the question if they unify in mode locking, making one become one once more?
Making sense of the shapes around us, I'll forever find a string to pull on until I fold the universe and start all over...
By Ben Jones
A shifting of sands,
A movement of continents,
A revolution of the Earth.
In fleeting breezes, you'll catch it,
Hiding,
From the obvious.
Behind my eyes,
Can you see my smile form on the edges of sanity?
I lost track of my thoughts and they ran away with me,
Leaving me only shifting sands and a revolving door through which all begins and ends.
Track my futility down,
Like the dog it once was,
And watch as time grabs at your ankles and pulls you aside.
You were a friend and more when I needed one,
And more than you needed to,
But your spell has worn off now,
And the sands shift once more...
By Ben Jones
Slip quietly into the shadows,
A spectre in disguise.
This has been educational,
But you never could express yourself,
Properly,
And my patience wore through long ago.
Paint yourself a better picture,
The one you hold is cracked,
And faded,
And I can't see the sense in this.
Keep your eye open.
It comes,
When you least expect it.
The fear,
Will die,
Among these concrete monoliths,
And down a faded back alley.
TAG.
You're it.
By Ben Jones
