Ben Partenay Poems

were a
judas

little lie
...

You are anger now and have
become anger through anger.
The tight-lipped woman blowing
smoke into my lungs
...

Red and orange, yellow
Maybe a touch of blue
Paint the sky with fire
And the snow with a barren hue
...

these streets are clogged with ball and chain,
faces walk with owl eyes, carry
bags of last kisses and goodbyes on telephones,
“tonight” they say, “love will break these chains”
...

you lose a fight
then two, then three
tongues throw words like tiny stones
you drag home tattered bits of hope
...

sometimes the Madhatter has his way, when
chaos walks the streets with a new suit and
a grin that cries “there’s no tomorrow”
you hug the walls and pray for sundown
...

we do not see it
we see images
of it played out
puppet shows
...

the puzzle of it
the forth and back
push, pull,
please go
...

I have believed and yet have not
and felt the bullets from both sides
who say it's harder to believe
while others say it's truth denied.
...

we drive miles away
gravel road, interstates fly by,
she has a tattoo of a dove
on her hip, in flight
...