Ben's Poems : January 2015

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

The Day I was Laid Low

Oh! Remember! Could I forget?

That fateful day of woe.

Yes, I'll recall, as I do yet

That day I was laid low.

The sun broke cold on evenings chill.

The air was dry and cold

Not far behind the first birds trill

I rose quiet bare and bold.

The stove was cold, the fire gone.

I lit the morning fire.

The coffee pot I readied soon

The temperature rose higher.

And proudly then, as I surveyed

My mornings efforts working,

I warmed myself, calm and staid

Not seeing danger lurking.

And soon my bride resolved to rise

And risk the morning breeze.

I never saw the twinkling eye

Of her intent to tease.

And as she raced toward the heat

I stood there unaware

of danger in her pattering feet

Of any need for care.

And then she bent and teeth flashed out

Aimed at my bare behind.

Reacting quick, I gave a shout

And jumped away in time.

Alas! Poor fool! I'd jumped in haste.

Why couldn't I have turned?

The searing flesh rose from the waste

of the appendage I had burned.

Oh! Remember! Could I forget?

That fateful day of woe

Yes! I recall, as I do yet

That day I was laid low.

A Note from the Author's Wife

This is not one of Ben's poems.

As we read through these poems during this very
difficult part of our lives, both of us were deeply moved
by what we had shared.

We don't have a lot of money but we are the
most wealthy couple I know, because of the love
between us.

Brain cancer (Gliomablastoma Multiforma) is very
hard on the whole family. Ben's brain no longer
functions properly. He often cannot understand simple
commands like "stop" or "wait". Reading these
poems to him has stimulated him to write more of them.

I can barely read what he has written but I read them
aloud while he tries to fill in the parts I can't understand.
He has written over 12 poems in one week.

The above note was written late in 2003 while he was still alive.

Today is 7/22/2020 and as I read this post this morning I flashed back on the day I brought the poems he'd given me over the years out into the living room. I was reading them while my daughter Heidi was typing them into the computer.

When she read the first one, Ben was listening closely.
"That's really good," he said, "Who wrote that."
"You did," I said.
"I did?" The tears ran down his cheeks as he pondered that.
"Bring me some paper and a pencil," he demanded, "I'm going to write some more.

He was serious about that and he did write some more. Mostly he wrote "I love you". He wrote on top of what he wrote. He wrote sideways down the page. He wrote off of the paper. But he wrote and he wrote and he felt joy for doing it.

I printed out his poetry in little booklet form and in card form ETC. It was fun. He was going to sell them at the Christmas Bazaar in 2005 but he died in October.

Perspectives

Sometimes the world

Seems such a vast

Unchangeable

Receptacle

In which I am lost

Shouting to deaf ears.

I am alone

In hopeless flight

From emptiness

To emptiness

Pride smashed to fragments

Who is there to care?

And then you look

And you see me

Recognition

Dawns in your face

Filling the spaces

Between eternity.

I'm not alone

The world is small

And can be pushed

Inside a cupboard

Making room to play

Matchless harmony.

Windows

I see her face

In the window laced

With ice from the cold outside

I call her name

Through the window pane

But she cannot come inside.

No one knows the joy and sorrow

Waiting for us each tomorrow

Who knows how we feel when we're alone?

All of us are separate beings

Looking out our windows seeing

Someone looking at us through their own.

God, I wish that I could be there

Looking through her window with her

Lord, I know that she wishes the same

(But) all my efforts to be near her

Never bring me any closer

Than the width of that cold window pane.

If only I could break that window
Hand in hand we could walk into
Some place where we'd never be apart
What a heaven we could live in
If these windows weren't wrapped
Around our hearts.

I've searching for you so long
You're the words to every love song
I think you were sent from up above
There's nothing nicer, nothing sweeter
Than what I feel each time I greet her
I think this is something they call love.

Written on 8 x10 paper, mostly clean. Some words scratched out. Some ink got wet; sweat, tears? A greasy thumb print. Folded to fit in his wallet.

To the best wife in the whole world, on her eighteenth birthday

To The Best Wife in the Whole World on Her Eighteenth Birthday

Eighteen you are

Now come of age

A woman

By the law.

Eighteen you are

And always are

My woman

And my cause.

Eighteen has come

You've passed that mark

A woman

Now for sure.

Eighteen has come

And loved you are

My woman

Ever more.

Love and kisses

More kisses

-Ben

Truth

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Do you have no shame at all?

No one has the gall but you

To show me what I know is true?

The Rose

From deep within

The feeling grows

The tiny bud

Unfolds

A rose

Weathered by the trials of earth

The joy of love

Is given birth

To hold two lives

So blessed

Entwined

Forever

Through the depth of time.

Note: The element that makes this poem true is that he wrote it and I still have it even though he is dead. I post all of these to keep them true, to validate our 30 years together, and to remember that I was truly loved.

Understand My Heart

Carmen, do you really love me?

Do I enter every dream?

Are you lost when I am absent?

In your book, am I the theme?

When you feel that I don't want you

Does you heart and mind go numb?

Does a chill go through your body?

Does the world forget to turn?

Do you feel secure in knowing

That no matter what, I'm yours

That regardless of the challenge

There is someone else who cares?

If you've felt these things I've asked you

Then you understand my heart

An know how deeply I would hurt

If we should ever part.

Loving Is

Loving Is

You and I can turn and
Face a world
That doesn't care
With faith in what we share
And that's
What loving is.

Any time
You feel you need someone
To hold you tight
And rock you through the night
I'll be
There loving you.

Any time
You need to talk about
What's on your mind
You know I'll find the time
To be
There loving you.

Every time
You touch me with those warm
And loving eyes
I feel the warmth inside
And that
From loving you.

Every time
I see you with that look
Upon your face
There's not a trace
Of doubt
About loving you.

You and I
were made to help each other
Through our lives
See through each other's eyes
And that's
What loving is.

(Written on a yellowed piece of 8x10 lined tablet paper. No stains. Some words scratched out. Folded to fit in his wallet.)

Peace Is

Freedom from need in material sense

Gives no peace in recompense

Peace is the certainty

That what we are and what we'll be

Is in the interest of our souls

And all of those our love enfolds

With Love For You

No one ever could

Make it quite so good

Get me quite this high

Make me want to cry

With love For you.

When you turn it on

It's just like a song

The rhythm and the rhyme

Filling up my mind

With love

For you.

I don't know how I ever made it

Without you in my life

You took the cobwebs from my thinking

And made me see

I needed you

For my wife.

When you say you're mine

Your eyes start to shine

Touching me inside

Filling me with pride

And love

For you

I don't know why

I'm the lucky guy

I'm just thankful for

Each day I can give more

Love,

For you.

Perspectives

Perspectives

Sometimes the world
Seems such a vast
Unchangeable
Receptacle
In which I am lost
Shouting to deaf ears.

I am alone
In hopeless flight
From emptiness
To emptiness
Pride smashed to fragments
Who is there to care?

And then you look
And you see me
Recognition
Dawns in your face
Filling the spaces
Between eternity.

I'm not alone
The world is small
And can be pushed
Inside a cupboard
Making room to play
Matchless harmony.

One Hour More

One Hour More

Only one hour more
Give me one hour more
And I will give you love
Lie you've never had before.
And if she had her way
I know I'd be there all day
Spending one hour more
In her arms.

How well I know that she could prove her promise
And how I wish that I could take the time
But I've got job, a farm and family
And I have got to think of them sometimes.

If I stay once more I might get fired
And money doesn't grow on love's sweet vine.
When one eats bread he has to pay the baker
But still I'd like to stay for one more time.

So Right

She brings herself

Nothing missing

Nothing hidden

All so real, so right.

She brings her joy

Laughing, teasing

Loving, pleasing

So wonderful, so right.

She brings her love

Always caring

Always giving

Always, oh, so right.

Talking

Talking

We keep talking it over
And over again.
How can we be lover
If we can't be friends?

You tell me your side.
I tell you mine.
If no one is listening
It's just wasting time.

I've got more words
Than Webster wrote down
To excuse my indifference
And subtle put-downs.

But where do they go
When you knock on the side
Of my shell to commune with
The man that's inside?

I've been throwing up armor
Defending my pride
When your heart was the safest place
I could ever reside.

Eyes of Love

The eyes of love look long,

Enduring

Always giving, always sharing

Always full and always caring.

She

She is

A woman

Of passion,

Compassion,

Of truth,

Of love,

Of mine.

You

You

One like you
So real
So rare
So full of love
So full of life
Comes by but once
None will come
To love
To cherish
To give my love
To give my life
But you this once
Forever.

Need

Need

What is this thing?

Need.

For energy to continue

I need food.

To distribute it
Water.

To burn it
Air.

To stay warm

Clothing, fire, shelter.

These I need

To live.

Do I need you?

For joy in this

Yes.