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    AC Benus
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Man in a Room, and other poems - 4. tangible self

.

Poem No. 6

 

A happy life, that's all I want

I don’t want a yacht,

I don’t want a mint

(unless you have one for my breath)

 

I don’t want to live where it's hot,

nor cold either, please get my hint

(extremes are prone to make me creath)

 

A life that won't leave me empty

is what I do want,

I don’t mean to sound selfish though

(not too keen on a shibboleth)

 

because

 

A big screen TV I don’t want,

or a car that hates to go slow

(none would give me a happy death)

 

*Note:

- creath = verb, to tremble

- shibboleth = a custom, principle, or belief distinguishing a particular class or group of people, especially a long-standing one regarded as outmoded or no longer important.

 

 

 

Poem No. 7

 

Every time I pick up a pen,

I think of the ones who

used it better than all the rest

 

Those whose scribbles had a great scent

and makes me look like a fool

to even pick it up, like all the rest.

 

 

 

Poem No. 8

 

What is beauty,

if it has no tangible self…?

 

 

_

Copyright © 2017 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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A life that won't leave me empty

 

But if I don't pick up that pen, which makes me look like a fool, I will be empty!

 

AC, You've presented us with a conundrum as perplexing as beauty's intangible self!

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On 09/24/2016 01:59 PM, skinnydragon said:

A life that won't leave me empty

 

But if I don't pick up that pen, which makes me look like a fool, I will be empty!

 

AC, You've presented us with a conundrum as perplexing as beauty's intangible self!

Oh, I'm giggling! What a fantastic review, three times over :)

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A simple life, a life without the material baggage to carry or the claims it makes upon you, is a life greatly to be desired. You make me yearn for it in your poem. Your pen, left upon the desk, can never speak; and while I often feel as you eloquently express it in Poem 7, surely it is better you speak than to remain silent. Poem 8 poses an interesting question. Is the tangible self of beauty in its manifestations? Or is beauty like number, a noun that cannot exist without an actuality in which to embody it? Such wonderful things to ponder you give us. Thank you.

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A simple life...how much I yearn for that--what's a guy tempted by the glorious abundance of Victorian decor to do? I guess I'm a little bit saved by having bought an Edwardian Greek-style house rather than the Victorian I put my first bid on. :) I was crushed when another person got that house, though my bid was accepted as a back-up. Turns out I would have paid only 2k more than I did for my current house, and it was half again the size of mine.
Still, though hat house had more of every detail mine has, such as original lights, sliding doors between rooms, and a large staircase, I can't help but feel cheated by Fate.
I yearned for the simple life like I had in the country, but abhorred the late 5os ranch I grew up in, the epitome of economy of line and simplicity of style.
Tangible selves are often confusing to us, as they don't always fit into our intangible iconography...I guess, like the ancient Egyptians, I'll wait in the Underworld for Maat to weigh my heart against the Feather of Truth, and hope for the best.

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On 09/25/2016 01:50 AM, Parker Owens said:

A simple life, a life without the material baggage to carry or the claims it makes upon you, is a life greatly to be desired. You make me yearn for it in your poem. Your pen, left upon the desk, can never speak; and while I often feel as you eloquently express it in Poem 7, surely it is better you speak than to remain silent. Poem 8 poses an interesting question. Is the tangible self of beauty in its manifestations? Or is beauty like number, a noun that cannot exist without an actuality in which to embody it? Such wonderful things to ponder you give us. Thank you.

Thank you, Parker. Although the poem about feeling inadequate as a poet was written many years ago, it's still a common question for me. Only now, I know that target has moved. More able to do the things I want, the problem remains a simple one: "Am I good enough."

 

Thanks again.

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On 09/25/2016 09:12 AM, ColumbusGuy said:

A simple life...how much I yearn for that--what's a guy tempted by the glorious abundance of Victorian decor to do? I guess I'm a little bit saved by having bought an Edwardian Greek-style house rather than the Victorian I put my first bid on. :) I was crushed when another person got that house, though my bid was accepted as a back-up. Turns out I would have paid only 2k more than I did for my current house, and it was half again the size of mine.

Still, though hat house had more of every detail mine has, such as original lights, sliding doors between rooms, and a large staircase, I can't help but feel cheated by Fate.

I yearned for the simple life like I had in the country, but abhorred the late 5os ranch I grew up in, the epitome of economy of line and simplicity of style.

Tangible selves are often confusing to us, as they don't always fit into our intangible iconography...I guess, like the ancient Egyptians, I'll wait in the Underworld for Maat to weigh my heart against the Feather of Truth, and hope for the best.

When I was a boy, I was tutored on Saturdays at the Lutheran School (I attended the Catholic one…). The library had a set of books for kids relating Egyptian mythology, and I loved to read them. My school had nothing that explorative. Anyway, the weighting of heat was in there, and your comments reminded me of it.

 

Thanks for a wonderful review. It's always amazing to know my verse stirs up feelings in others :)

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I knew I'd missed something. I read these but ... well here I am.
You yearn for a simple yet fulfilling life. What can fulfill you? Not most things, some special ones I imagine but not the usual. But what else will ... work? Yes, this work you do with magic, spirituality, and beauty: as a weaver of words.

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On 11/22/2016 09:36 AM, Mikiesboy said:

I knew I'd missed something. I read these but ... well here I am.

You yearn for a simple yet fulfilling life. What can fulfill you? Not most things, some special ones I imagine but not the usual. But what else will ... work? Yes, this work you do with magic, spirituality, and beauty: as a weaver of words.

Thanks, Tim. At the time I was thinking that love was not going to be for me. I get somewhat embarrassed at how closeted these poems are, but thank God I had poetry as an outlet. Don't think I would have made it otherwise.

 

Thank you again <3

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On 10/15/2016 at 9:34 AM, AC Benus said:

When I was a boy, I was tutored on Saturdays at the Lutheran School (I attended the Catholic one…). The library had a set of books for kids relating Egyptian mythology, and I loved to read them. My school had nothing that explorative. Anyway, the weighting of heat was in there, and your comments reminded me of it.

 

Thanks for a wonderful review. It's always amazing to know my verse stirs up feelings in others :)

*the weighing of the heart :blushing: I mean 

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