The Sense of Inspiration

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If I Were A Scent

IF I WERE A SCENT


If I were a scent,
I’d be misted lavender,
weightless, floral, relaxant. 

I’d relish—in the fact
of being invisible, irresistible,
on the senses. 

Easily disarm, 
even the best of defenses, 
—Immerse opponents in therapeutic gas. 



Benjamin Thomas

Strength in Numbers

Hip Skeleton on blue background.

 

 

 

STRENGTH IN NUMBERS

 

La fuerza, the vigor of life, rests deep

within cortices of bone.  In God we trust!

United we stand! 206 of them–

Yet they never work alone.

 

One spins and rolls, others slide n’ glide

stabilizing while others move.  Synergistic music

in harmony, as concave and convex beams groove.

 

There is no strength in solitude; In sturdy, compact

individual bone, when we’re made to fit–articulate, bear

weight, in a poetic skeletal home.

 

 

Benjamin Thomas

 

 

 

The MUZETRAIN prompt 1

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ALL ABOARD!  Calling all poets to catch the MUZE TRAIN.  ALL ABOARD!

Welcome to the first prompt of the Muze Train.  Hope you enjoy the ride.
So what exactly is this Muze Train anyway? Well I thought you’d never ask.  It’s one of my quirky attempts to spark the muse of my fellow poets and promote their good work.  But it does have a twist to it. In particular, a twitter kind of twist.  Yep. Twitter.  If you’ve never heard of twitter, or don’t have an account yet. It’s easy. You can go to http://www.twitter.com and set up an account in a minute or two.  All you need is an email adress. Easy right?

So the whole thought behind the Muze Train is to promote your poetry and facilitate participation and appreciation of the art of muse.  There’s no one better to do it than you. So let’s get started.

The process is simple. I’ll always begin the prompt with a stanza or “boxcar”.  The next person will follow and write the second stanza.  The third person becomes the caboose, and writes the third stanza.  Three stanzas complete a train.  Then the process repeats itself in a mad dash completing more trains.  We can make as many trains as we want!

Well probably have to start on the blog though. As it might take a bit to get the locomotive moving.  We can post stanzas in the comment section, and if you’re the caboose, you have to add the previous two stanzas to yours in the comment section by copying and pasting.  I  can then post all completed trains to my twitter account for more exposure and participation. Cool huh?

RULES OF THE RAIL
(For bloggers)

Part one:
1. Be courteous of others
2. Write poetry.
3. Comment.
4.  Have fun!

Part two:
Two ways to participate
1. Compose a stanza.
2. Like and add positive comments.

Part three:
1.  4 lines per stanza
2.  3 stanzas complete a train
3.  The 3rd person is always the caboose.
4.  The caboose combines all three stanzas and posts in the comment section and can post the completed train on their own blog.

RULES OF THE RAIL
(For twitter users)

Part one:
1. Be courteous of others
2. Write poetry!
3. Comment
4.  Have fun!

Part two:
A.  Four ways you can participate.
1. Tweet your stanza using the hashtag #muzetrain.
2. Locate other stanzas using #muzetrain and add your stanza to theirs by replying to them.
3. Comment.
4. Like and retweet.

B. Further rules of the rail for twitter users
1.  Each tweet represents a “boxcar”.
2.  Three stanzas or “boxcars” complete a train.
3.  The third person or stanza is always the caboose.
3.  In this case, if you’re the caboose, you can either combine all three stanzas and post to your own blog, using the #muzetrain hashtag or just favorite and retweet the train on twitter. 

So here it goes…
The first boxcar…

Prompt: The Key to the future

The future is ready.
We must create tomorrow’s gold,
and shape it like potter’s mold.
For the future is ready, for the taking.

There it is.

Have fun!

If you have questions contact me:
@poetryshackman
or
PoetryShackMan@gmail.com

Board the MUZETRAIN!
All aboard!

Benjamin

SAY IT WITH MUZE: Prompt 1

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Ok folks.  I’m trying something new here. So bear with me.  I can’t stop my creative muse, so I’ve come up with a few ideas for prompts.  Poetry prompts of course.  The cool thing about it is, your all invited! 

So my first category is called: “Say it with muze” (and yes, I misspelled muse intentionally) and the general “style” of prompt, if you will, is the news. One of my favorite pastimes is actually reading the newspaper. In this way we stay informed of events both locally and around the world.  In other words, the prompt will come as it relates to current news topics. Or old ones for that matter. 

So I’ll select something in the news, and you’ll write an awesome poem as your muse pleases. Hence the phrase “Say it with muze”.  Sounds great huh?

My best intentions in doing this; is to first, promote poetry, and provide a positive medium for poets such as yourself.  Are you excited yet?

Feel free to post your poem in the comment section or simply provide a link to your blog.  Also feel free to roam around as much as you like, and please comment on others poems.  It’s much more enjoyable that way isn’t it?  Alright you ready?  Here goes nothin’
(By the way I have other wonderful categories to be announced. So stay tuned).

SAY IT WITH MUZE:
Prompt 1

Today’s prompt will be on mourning. The world is mourning right now the loss of life in Paris.  I just saw a picture of a young woman from Cal state that is no longer with us.  Such a loss of life.
Personally, I’ve lost my dad, two grandmothers, and another family member within the last five years.
So your poem could be on grieving. The memory of a loved one, a tribute to Paris, or how the world is mourning.  However your muse takes you. 

Please be polite and mindful of others throughout the process. My only requirement is that you say it with muze.  I’ll go first. You ready?

THE IMAGE OF MEMORY

We cherish and embrace,
the sacred memory of those
who were larger than life,
inscribed upon our heart.

The gravity of their love,
stately kindness,
exhibited humanity
from the start.

Although we don
the sadness of this grief;
clad and cloaked in pain,
we will gladly bear their image
upon our souls,
for with us they still remain.

Benjamin Thomas

You can also reach me at
awesomewheel@gmail.com
@poetryshackman

Your turn!

Let know what you think.
Adios

ABOUT THAT IF

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If there were a grain of sand
for all the pain and grief endured
life would be a beach

If each and every tear shed
were written and read by all
the world would bulge with books

If we could see all the prayers
offered for every soul
those petitions would rain to heaven

If every person gained a pound
for every lie they ever told
the Earth would fall out of orbit

If every person had to be kind
in order get their sustenance
there would be global famine

If we every person truly loved
their neighbor as they loved themselves there would be paradise on Earth

Benjamin Thomas

AFTER ME

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Will you follow me
through the rainbow?
I utterly promise
flocks of ivory ravens
aurulent dreams
solid crimson foundations
and beryl beams

Let’s take to the sky
with trails of rich verdigris
ascendant on verdant wings
unto hidden realms
of jasper and rouge.

I promise
never to withold
the permeating light
but to fearlessly guide
into it’s everlasting vibrance

Benjamin Thomas

ALL IN THE CLOUD

Little girl closed her eyes and breathes the fresh air in the park.

I cannot pick the next breath I take,

whether cumulus of happiness or debris of hate.

For the air that enfolds us all is critical for survival.

Although parts of me escape, into this wild oneiric celestial blue.

I practice to inhale deeply, hidden, mystic parts of you.

Therefore no one can divorce themselves

from this mutual espousal of breath.

For we all are at rest, within this marriage cloud of human life.

Whether peace or strife, pleasure or pain.

All leave their stain in the cloud.

Its true, whether we walk or run we always owe a debt.

But as we pluck the next breath, it subtly transforms us

by the weapons of its fare.

So this I love; an expandable view of intrinsic air,

a reciprocity of pneumatic food, energy, and path we share.

Benjamin Thomas

THE INTANGIBLE GIFT

The best things in life 

aren’t even things at all. 

The material pleasures 

are at best a flash in the pan,

a chasing after the wind. 

Yet the world is teeming 

with them.  

With the malignant joys

of it’s  persistent deception. 

But the intangible gifts to

humanity reside in its nature. 

Love.  

Love is more powerful 

than every weapon on earth.  

Stronger than steel, 

more resilient than metal. 

A great conductor of emotion,

it travels at great speed.  

Spreading like the light of day;

it produces the hidden bud, 

and unfurls the shy bloom 

to enrich the many. 

Pleasing to the eyes,

and more precious than diamond. 

Its better than a gleam of silver,

or mountain range of gold. 

May it’s truth be told

and may we not withhold 

the greatest gift. 

Love. 

The Glorious Liberty of Autumn

The awesome spell of autumn is upon us

as we taste the glorious essence

of the timocracy of it’s hue.

The strewn colors of mother nature

restfully bleed; through battalions of trees,

who willingly lay down their leaves,

for the joy of the nation.

“Give me liberty or give me death”,

as they breath their last, into the freedom of soil.

No longer to toil or linger upon the tree.

But set free, released to roam in the earth.

Benjamin Thomas

TIME 

Time patiently 

discerns the genuine

whilst the counterfeit 

erodes to distant memory

Time conceals a hidden purpose 

to be discovered by the faithful

Time slithers and slides 

then sneaks away in disguise

Time is a fluid vessel 

containing all of humanity

It chronicles the anguish

and hardship and joys

as well as tears of all mankind 

Not one tear is lost

Nor speck of blood forgotten

Time will reveal all things

and at the end all things 

will become manifest

Then time will tell 

if these words were true

REMNANTS OF SUMMER

I cherish the moments spent; with touring summer winds,

venting torrential rains, hot humid nights in the streets.

Rambling rapid beams of light, scrambling to earth

giving new birth to days, weeks, months and the pleasure of redeeming each ray.

The joyous sound of hearts at play in the cool splash at the park.

Precious moments on the front porch, observing all the commotion,

precious times of precious lives in motion.

Benjamin Thomas

Holdin’ a Grudge

These ol’ bones of mine
have taken offense
at the task at hand

Yet they still demand
an apology to accomplish
their rightful duty.

These antiquated ankles
scream and murmur
at the weight of
responsibility

This ol’ spine of mine
retreats and seeks the
nearest seat

Like an old forgotten crane
with no name abandoned
to dust and rusted strength

These ol’ wrists of mine
hesitate to twist yet whine
make a turn for the worst

These ol’ bones of mine
bent on holding a grudge
hope they don’t judge too harshly

Return of the Faithful 

Abandoned to elements

of curious winds

frigid temperatures 

and keen slithering shadow 

within these dark moments 

we sorely forgive the lack 

of her springing countenance 

or her far reaching ray

For when the dawn dances

and gleefully has its way

splitting open the night 

rolling in steady golden streams 

delivering day once again 

on her broad faithful wings

we are grateful for the company 

and the bliss she brings

Mist of Dreams

Broken dreams

lay splintered 

scattered shards

lie forgotten 

forever bound

to disgrace

never to rise again 

nor see the height of day

a slow fading of mist

with substance of fog

a mere passing away

of cloud on the 

day of rain

water that seeks 

out no root

a mockery of soil

evaporating 

in the midst of heat

into senseless 

dissipation 

Fervored Regret

I regret

the moment 

my lips

squandered 

their rightful 

dwelling 

place

like costly 

oils spent

foolishly 

upon the

wild

their  fragrance

scattered 

to feverish winds

that sow

here 

and 

there again

their desire
mystic dreams

crave 

once more

choice fiery

lips

that lay 

locked

hopelessly 

within mine

interwoven

intertwined

with 

the key

thrown

away

METALLIC PATHOGENS

SONGSPIRATIONS 

When everything you touch

Turns to gold

Everything is precious 

The worthless 

Becomes worthy

Of a touch

The corruptible 

Desperately seeks

Incorruptibility 

Then everything in life

Has opportunity 

For preciousness 

With you

Poetry inspired by song

Artist: Imagine dragons

Album: Smoke and Mirrors

Song: Gold

Benjamin Thomas