Bentlee Poetry (317)

Drizzled water painted in brown
From where he came to abound in life
Cynical'd in thought
Life form's been shaped.

He'd wondered often how that water
Muddied up.

Yet those times they were few
Compared to his very
Mind thought's on display.

While his balance of time
Never brought him ashore.
The best he's hoped for
Was behind distant doors.

Eyes foggy glazed, lights silhouette
Nylons upon them echoed steel walls
Diamond reflection hosting
Distant skin Pierced.

My mind takes my feet say's go for a walk
Pain's gone away, for a while at least
While that warmed blanket
Keeps
The cold with itself!


~Bentlee~

You are the best
That's
Happened to me

You help keep me
Grounded
While
I'm able to soar......


~Bentlee~

When just a lad, oh my was' I real' bad
Just wanted attention from the ones
Whom I thought they loved me
Perhaps just a boy with skyed dreams.

Floyd's in the background playin it right
One of their albums spinin all night.

Animals I recall, or was it the Wall
Ya it was the Wall, when my feet first dug in
Trying to find, the likes of who's me
And not yellow Sin, where those minutes belonged.

Them thoughts that took flight a billion skin sheds ago
Rode back to me later that time is right now
Stuck in a dovetail of free riding wind
To see if your life has been ventured by gain



Or simple'd regrets pleasured by pain!~



~Bentlee~

Skimming stone glides
On crested, twenty five waves
Splash of that stone
On each wave,has begun.

~~~~~~


First date ten fingers lock in their grasp
Hazel eyes meet, those blue ones with shy
Snow on the ground, small cloud paints the sky.

Hills with the water and locks in the ice
Picnic packed lunch, echoed laughter in smile
Her left leg grabs hold of his right hanging out
That stone where they sit has been cut for their while.

They call it Jone's Falls
Yet the winter invades
Mesmorized thoughts
History displaced.
As this moment is theirs
Kept in memory, their place.

~~~~~~~

Winter has past, springs greening up
That walk through the slush to the rock where they sat
Fingers in fold, frosted breath meets the air
On that rock is their shadow, lunch date an love shared~


~Bentlee~

open your windows
souls on the take
obscured vision
not too forsake

pieces of jumbled
puzzles they lay
unsettled mind
from past days-away

content may be in a box to the side
scope of unrest
blows like leaves on the ground

a day where you struggle
feet stuck in the air
all thoughts you consider
beyond reasonable care

peace can be found if you pencil it in
tough part being
where to begin

it's not made by man
can't sit on a shelf
destiny vacation
temporal ooze

soft cultured skin
testosterone high
delightful distraction
the pleasures gone by

scent of flower their fingers in fold
mind goes in flight
to that box on the side

finicky fine line we draw in our mind
feed it to keep it justified alive
peace can be found it's there to behold
your thoughts that you keep.....shaping your mold~

~Bentlee~

Some gray hairs arrived in the blacks on his chin
Seasoned in days tried his hand at most things
Rough on the collar yet a heart that still gave
Patiently waiting, her love how he craved.

Schooled yes, diplomatic, social born thought's
Neither really mattered as he carved out his trail
Scattering of journey face in the wind
Fall down, get back up
There's no word they call fail.

He'd no idea of whom she may be
Buried in time, that time was not his
Patiently waiting, in fresco of mind.

~

No option to settle, as life he unfolds.

~

That table for two's been empty awhile
Sun's etched a profile of one looking out
On that window that's hung at that kitchen tables side
Deep down inside those thoughts could not hide.

As all them years aged fading to dark
Piggybacked days were walks in the park
That feeling it sat alone on the shelf
Carving that trail alone, by himself.

Now don't you believe he'd not a smile to give
Those days were still full and wanting to live
Just a secret he kept all to himself
To safely remove them thoughts from that shelf.

That shelf it now sits flat on his floor
Those thoughts they were harbored
They're not anymore~


~Bentlee~

Weeping young lady heard what she never wanted to hear
That dreaded "D" word
.....days passed.....

Then a promise made to her.

Sweetie we really had to divorce
I know it's been a lot of years
It'll be better this way in time
Tear'd eyes both, they sit.....

I'm going to make you a promise .....
I'll never just settle
I'll wait for that right person to come along.

I'm making this promise to you because.

To just settle....
Tears you cried that day
Would have been in vain.


As I hurt your heart for no reason.


~Bentlee~

Poem's a word derived from a thought
So that thought created the word we call Poem
Everyone here has that flair in their pen
Which mean's there's no wrong and no right
To it's shape.

.........

I'd thought about adding more words to above
Yet I wrote them and stroked them and filled in the dots!

~Bentlee~

Why did you stop her
In the middle of her say
Her heart is still heavy
That pain needs a way.

Yet you focus on words you choose not to hear
It's not about you, it's a loss that was dear.

In your love there's a friendship that needs to be seen
There'll be times when she talks, it's not to be mean.

I've seen it before, his thumbs in the belt
If you never been there, you can't know how it felt
Those cards they were given, hand has been dealt.

So take out your thumbs and open your arms
Listen to her words as you kiss away her tears
It's time to be holding, holding her close
She's there at your side, expressing the most!

~Bentlee~

Your written words reflect
Mind space, life
As you live in your days.

A journal of sorts
If I can say
How you were feeling
By words on display.

Some write words of personal strife
Others topic, oriented verse.

Yet those words hold a magical
Subconscious thought
Others can see
The writer may not.

Like strokes on a canvas
What will the mind paint
Not usually pre-conceived
Left to pen and brush fate.

I look back in time to some of my writes
I'm out of the box, lights are on bright.

Topic and words tell of that time
Was I spiritually settled
Or walking thin line.

Many people say introspect very small
When you're inside the box
Do you see outside at all.

I know there's been times
Friends an they'd say
Where did you go during your prime.

They say it's called writers
A block it's been said
Ink's all used up
Papers in shred.

Yet the mind wants to paper
Words that it can't
Writers block falls in place
Words not yet written.

Silent in rant.


~Bentlee~

eyes are closed surfing your thoughts
ones in remember some in forgot
left toes dip in the water that's cold
sun sets a heat on shoulders exposed.

smoke from the wood stove rides frigid night air
snow laden trees travel distant wolves howl
babbling brook under clear sheet of ice
moon casting shadows and thoughts you think twice.

one bead of sweat drips off your nose
your best day in life, the one that you chose!

lay down on your belly spread the grass to help see
a field full of wonder a field full of dreams
plots getting thicker as days pass you by
gesture intense......a need to apply~

~Bentlee~

Hooves at the mark where salt waters crest
Bounty of yore, with bounty a more
Sand laden beach gates as host of the land
Sable they call it, made of wave thrown up sand.

Their manes horizontal upon galloping wind
In stride throwing up what their hoof takes away
Wild they remain to this day.......legislate
In 1737 this story began, horses shipped over
Never knowing their fate.

Free as the wind was the means to embark
Colonial settlers left it all, left their mark!

Deported to the island 60 horses or so
Joining the ranks of the ones first arrived
Acadians were asked to leave the east coast
All they took was a pack on a stick at their back.

A graveyard of ships since they built them to float
Three fifty and counting, more like a moat.

Sable continues to this day that we are
The Horses they run, they are wild and free
The ships that were headed to their now journeyed end
In list on one side upon Sables sand bar.



~Bentlee~