Today’s choice

Previous poems

James Benger

 

 

 

Out of the Ash

We tore it all down
just to watch it burn,
standing in that alley
of forgotten refuse.

No one wanted it,
no one needed it,
so boombox and cigarettes,
bottles and pipes,

we ran riot with the fire,
unrestrained screams and smoke
rising higher than
our collective ambition.

And it was a forgotten place,
so the only light
came from us,
and we lit up the world

as though we were saving it
instead of destroying that little chunk.
But maybe in our wanton annihilation,
we were creating something new,

something intangible,
something infinite.
Flames burned down,
and we exhaustedly flopped

onto moldy abandoned couches,
recounting the glory that was us,
and never once to our own ears
did any of it sound hollow.

 

 

James Benger is the author of several books of poetry and prose. He serves on the Board of Directors of the Writers Place, and on the Riverfront Readings Committee, and is the founder of the 365 Poems in 365 Days online workshop. He lives in Kansas City with his wife and children.

Emily A. Taylor

I move my hand long
so yours will follow, and though
this moment tastes of tequila soda
paracetamol pillowed on a fizzing tongue
amnesia… pull me in anyway.

Steph Morris

No way would they let him keep that tag. They saw
a boy they must rename, must mark
from them, a boy whose limbs folded far too gently,

Eryn McDonald

It is here that the day breaks apart
Like ice on frustrated frozen pond
Here in the grounds of Ashton Court
I wish to bury myself amongst the green

Stephen Keeler

The days were huge and kind
and sometimes after school

we’d buy a bag of broken biscuits
for the long walk home

across the heavy heat of afternoon
on lucky days she wouldn’t take

the pennies offered up in supplication

Joseph Blythe

I swear I felt the swirly patterned paper
rip from the walls of my childhood bedroom.
It was the same stained cream shade as my skin –
pockmarked, cut and scabbed, dry and peeling…..

Denise Bundred

Shadowed boats bereft of sail
absorb the surge and slap
constrained by a blue-grey chink
of mooring chains.