poems by Ben Walpole

The Saboteur

I was walking down the winding street
Pollen swirled in the weirdly warm wind
Histamines began replicating in my blood stream
I thought of words I wish I could rescind
The words I wish you would forget
My hopes were blended with those verbal regrets

Let me redress those trifles
Allow me to rifle through the dusty files
I want to explore the neglected recesses
That gnawed, ragged place you disguise
I wanna stitch it, I wanna heal it
I want to hold you til you cry

A Supposedly Fun Thing I Manage to Ruin 🙂

A bit less than expected
A bit more than bisected

Take a sip
Smoke a zip
Wreck a whip

How fucking fantastic!
More than a little sarcastic
Used to be brittle as plastic

I am a rubberband
A little piece of elastic
I escaped peace everlasting,
Outlasting projections of the past

How quickly the years have passed?!
How bright the light’s first gleam seemed!?
How it glittered like a guillotine!
How long did it last?
How bad did it burn?

To escape death through pain
One adapts, becoming insane
I’m not well
I’m well trained
Well practiced
Well versed
I’ve learned to profit from my curse

I’m a bit blessed,
Despite the dipso-defects
I’m still stressed,
A bit less than expected