The Party’s All Gone

 

You died way too young

But you lived to long

You got stuck cleaning

Bottles when the party’s all gone.

 

With duty on your back

And loving on the floor

Mind going crazy

Wanting what it was before

 

Golden boys don ’t shine

In autumn’s dullen grey

Hiding the mirror,

To make the cracks all go away.

 

You died way too young

But you lived to long

You got stuck cleaning

Bottles when the party’s all gone.

 

© Carman Benoit, October 2017

Untitled

 

If you take me to Manhattan,

I’ll dance amidst the cars.

From kiss to kiss,

A Broadway miss,

And cleaning up the bars.

 

We’ve learned a lot from losing,

And how it’s worthy of the risk.

Searching by night,

For god’s elusive light,

In the cold and winter brisk.

 

If you take to me to Berlin,

I will dance upon the cobble.

I will run amok,

Until i’m stuck,

And crash into my nobble.

 

We’re learned a lot from boredom,

and tracing songs upon our skin.

To shed our flags,

As lonesome rags,

Lusting for discipline.

 

© Carman Benoit, February 2017

We Are The Dirt

 

We are the dirt.

We cling to mud.

Washed away.

Thinner we reform.

We are the dirt.

Once were stone.

Friction faced.

And blow away.

Stressed, and

Pressed, and

Messed,

Are we.

We are the dirt.

Forever here.

Mineral decay.

Important stories,

Passed on in fossils.

Lava glass.

Reborn in clay.

 

© Carman Benoit, October 2016