Locomotive Forces

Pushed and pulled,

An internal paradox.

It filters my words and actions.

If it lets you,

Will you notice?

And understand the cause?

If I let you,

Will you promise?

Allow me a second,

To gather my thoughts from the floor.

I scattered them to make sense of it.

Begrudgingly,

I to and fro,

Slipping between them like a comet in flight.

Like leaves from a dying tree,

They dance in my slipstream.

Allow me a second,

To gather my thoughts from the floor.

I scattered them there to make sense of it.


By Ben Jones

This Is War

Poking and prodding at old wounds,

Like a dog's unattended tongue,

They infuriate themselves,

As the blood flows once more.

It showed me the truth, it showed me his soul, and I understood for the briefest moment.

Then I saw.

Tongue that cut in the roof of your mouth until it flows red with life.

Tomorrow is always a new day, unless you told it to replicate once more.

She'll dance me to death if I follow, and her words are a poison I've never tasted before. Maybe she'll allow me thirty seconds to catch my breath while I study the concept of love and warfare.


By Ben Jones

I Wrote This Looking At You But Not Really.

She spoke right at me.

Not a word she said, but beneath her was all ablaze, and in her eyes I lost time itself.

Found stories, and gestures...

Apparently.

Beyond which my mind would not let me, and thus I found myself sat opposite herself sat opposite me, and I knew at once it was me.

Not a word, she said.


By Ben Jones

Stutter

You broke.

I fell.

Fractured scenery.

Splintered mind.

I broke.

You fell.

Hyperviolet.

Scattered words.

I stand.

Sitting.

Fallen.

I broke.

I fell.


By Ben Jones

My Unborn Tapestry

The string unravels as I think upon it.

My train of thought is speeding down a path I thought impossible, hacking away at the tangled vines of my psyche like a jungle guide with a machette...

The putrid smell of old memories finds my nostrils, and I wretch for a second, but find my nerve again, and grip the string tighter.

I won't lose this everything again.

Watching myself become myself through everyone else's eyes will tear your soul apart, but your failures are your strengths and your existence a paradox, our celestial bodies intertwined with superstrings and spiderwebs of time and space all comforting and placating, and


THIS JUST DOES NOT REPLICATE WITH ITSELF.

It is merely the result of two totally independant and unrelated actions, an uncalculable formula of

consequence after

consequence after

consequence after

consequence after

consequence.


This string unravels as I think along it.


By Ben Jones

I Have No One To Blame But Myself

I waited and waited.

The rain dripped down my forehead, and the light bounced off the wet tarmac,

And I waited.

I watched the street come alive with colours and people and sights and sounds,

And I waited.

The car tyres sputtered water in my face as they talked, and the people played mime with each other in living rooms,

And I waited.

The night grew old, and the day grew new,

And I waited.

Dogs stopped to chat, tell me about their day, and cats looked quietly on,

And I waited.

I found myself, and I lost myself, and I found myself again,

And I waited.

I grew impatient and struck out at that car with that music driving through that puddle and splashing me,

And I waited.

I saw the truth in front of my very eyes,

And I waited.

I lied to myself over and over again, and began to believe myself,

And I waited.

I asked a stranger,

"Do you have some spare change?"

And he was kind enough to lend me the money.

He directed me to the phone box.

I called.

I'm still waiting.


By Ben Jones

Sleeping in the Rain

Blurred sounds come into focus,

A drumming on the window,

And tired eyelids yawn back into my head.


A grey warmth fills the room,

Like a sombre memory,

With a comfort of knowing,

It was you that experienced it.


Lie here for a moment.


Soak up this tranquility,

This utter stillness.

Like my own bubble has been made real.


Slip quietly between my dreamworld and this,

And it's like nothing could disturb me.


Glide down stairs,

The whole house still,

Relaxed.


And time slips like a gently growing pool of water,

Unstoppable, steady, slow...

Just the way I like it.


It's like someone custom made a day for me,

And tied it up with rain...


By Ben Jones

Angry for no reason at all

You all laugh,

And you only serve to stoke the fire.

Your mocking smiles are killing me in ways I dream of ending you, like a pressure on my frontal lobe.

Expanding til it covers my whole field of view, cerebral hatred spawned from instability and the inability to do anything about it.

Even your voice is irritating.

It makes my blood boil and my eyes itch, but I don't even know you...

Like a shiver in my spine I can't shift, it leaves me on edge and nervous...

And I'm angry for no reason at all.


By Ben Jones