Some time ago one went on a little trip*
To check out the internet poetry landscape
What one saw remained in the mind's tape
A movie reel which had a compelling grip
Poet's comments were of such cliquish old rock
Like being an exclusive remarking club
Outsider verses left out of their hub
The scenery verily stunned one with much shock
One so wishes one had not gone away
A dream of venturing did disenchant
The roads lead to (an in house favouring)
After sighting the terrain's mode of sway
Taking a journey one may well recant
*These vistas weren't enjoyable savouring

Every day is the same thing,
What keeps us moving,
The substance and the drugs that some keep abusing so

What is this world now?
Where is the count down?
If this is a circus then we're all just clowns!

The ringleader speaks and so think we must not
Instead we pop the pills that gives us courage once lost!
Amidst all the rot, flowers love me not,
Nature won't forgive for we have forgot!

I've got my warrior ******* on
Wolverine lent me these acrylics

Lasso your credit card with my weave
Tuck your tunnel vision in my G-string

This is my ******* song
Got my bad girl heels on

You can't get me off your mind
So how you gonna get me off

Come over to the throne room
I've got an after for you baby

What other religion costs $25 per song

Give me your devotion
I want Matronage
Ritual

When I was 19 I turned days into kalediscopes
Water into water
Paper covers rock
And coke cures a bad trip

Trip over my perfume

You won't spend money on me High on life
So let's get you depressed

Tell me your story sad boy
I've got rent to pay.

You’ve got your disks ready, your tracks loaded
Your club full, your drugs in
Laptop in front of your fingers
Fiddle with the house rig, call the sound guy back
One more time
Check the setup, recheck the setup,
Check your charge
Battle record on deck, you’re set
How’s your cues?
Run through the tracks and the channels
You’re sprinting
It’s all set, all set, all set, all set, all set
Drink your water, throw it back
Thumbs up the light guy
Toss the bottle under
Your gear under your fingers, worn
And won
Breathe. For a second.


Perfect.
Feel the crowd quiver, feel the house shiver
There’s magic in the air.


black.


(beat.)
(beat.)
(beat.)








LET THE BASS DROP

Met her up in the club
Drinking her pineapple schnapps
I took a chance,
asked her for a dance, she said yes
So I said take my hand

from the moment we met

I just knew we would connect

Felt the sparks fly

between you and I

She gives me that electrical feel

Shocked to the heart 

The blood rush starts

One taste of her strawberry kiss

From her red cherry coloured lips

To the sweet caress from her fingertips 

It had me feeling like this.

I love every little thing about you
I love every little thing that you do
(You know it)
I want your loving
Yeah, baby, it's true (You know it)
I can't get you off of my mind girl
(You know it, you know it)

Come and get on it
I want it (You know that I do)
Your bubble gum tongue
Your passion, your love
The connection we feel (So surreal)
Come on get on it.
We want it, I see that you do
(I know you're feeling it too) Girl

It's the way that we sweat
In the passion, in ***
Out of breath
By the end
Fall asleep in your bed
Her head on my chest
You know that feeling
It's the best,

I love every little thing about you
I love every little thing that you do
(You know it)
I want your loving
Yeah, baby, it's true (You know it)
I can't get you off of my mind girl
(You know it, you know it)

Come and get on it
I want it (You know that I do)
Your bubble gum tongue
Your passion, your love
The connection we feel (So surreal)
Come on get on it.
We want it, I see that you do
(I know you're feeling it too) Girl

She likes it when,
I run my fingers through her hair
I see your feeling the attraction we share
Yeah we both feel it there
I can feel your body heat on mine
Yeah you know that's something I like
You know you got the look girl
You know you got me, hooked girl
You know we got it, good girl
Couldn't have made it any better
If I threw a wishing stone
Into a wishing well
She knows we got it good and,

I love every little thing about you
I love every little thing that you do
(You know it)
I want your loving
Yeah, baby, it's true (You know it)
I can't get you off of my mind girl
(You know it, you know it)

Come and get on it
I want it (You know that I do)
Your bubble gum tongue
Your passion, your love
The connection we feel (So surreal)
Come on get on it.
We want it, I see that you do
(I know you're feeling it too) Girl

©2017 Written By Benji James

a vanity
always hers
that squaller
revive her
nave and
her ritual
****** in
ferment that
any submissive
evasion abated
her while
social still
rewarded my
comment as
this next
virtue merely
strabilious rule.

A mystery of raging here a breath
that fashion this batch with bunches  
at lunch they golf round their attire
but a tailspin for a fragrance
with a flair for rehabilitation where they
sought final substantiation and
this club swings mere saturation.

Woman at diner who knew Fugazi,
I wear all these pins
on my denim jacket
waiting for someone like you
because a t-shirt isn’t
loud enough.

Woman who knew Fugazi,
waitress at diner,
had “seen them twenty times,”
without exaggeration—

with cracking olive skin
and graying curly black
hair to her shoulders,

the light refracting off my pin
my friend bought at a record store
in Philly      reflecting her the image
of a slender, voluptuous youth
donned in fake leather
worn Levis and beat Vans

shaking her mop of jet-black curly hair
in a throng of like-minded dressed
individuals in a dingy club
          angsty Washingtonians
fleeing the Reagan Youth

mad at Capitalism
mad at Middle Class,
mad at Excess, Abuse, Malaise—
driven by the furious punk rhythms
of sweat-drenched Fugazi.

Woman who knew Fugazi,
friends with Ian MacKaye,
hadn’t seen him in years—

waitress at restaurant
where the scrambled eggs are dry
and the coffee is stale.

Waitress at diner,
Mother now,
wife, adult,

                 [[punk]]
at heart.

Club doors smell of lady's potions easy kind of hazey.

Daily news of power, and fruit and punch.

Dj Spun, music so courageously.

With laser touching all there eyes.

Yet no irritation, you see they where protected by a small musical meldoy.

It was epic heads all head baging.

Fast pace music, slowed too jam to it with no penut butter.

See how I twist the version, call your favorite pill brewer and we will trip.