BeNny and Joone
Her words are paper-maché
She sews them haphazardly
They are broken and eaten and doused in clay
She goes ‘round with a clumsy rhyme: brazenly
As she does so, I will stop
Always thinking: will I drop?
Her stanzas are magical, or perhaps not
Maybe I just need to write: ‘tis worth a shot
He writes careful, in a deliberate side-step
She writes madness, in a turmoil of a process
They’re a sludge of heavy pep
Toss the form! It’s a goddamn mess
Neither knows what the other is doing
Excited thoughts and feelings are brewing
When they both strike their pages with pen
Words despise, words disperse, time and again
They know the taste of the ink on their fingertips
And the thrill of the prose on the eyes of the people
It’s poetry 101; build and burn- sketch out the apocalypse!
For a glimpse of your soul in a scratched-out steeple
They are the architects of each other’s magnificence,
Poetic structure is the catalyst indeed
Euphoric ghosts trapped amidst flames of indifference,
A stimulating outside world which we must feed
Feed, or devour?
They chew the air and spit it out
Writers: cross our hearts for the eleventh hour
Tick, tock, it’s a storybot, and writers flock with an early shout.
Surrounding such writers as those,
Is often wistful imperfection
They spent each moment absorbing life’s blows
In search of their own reflection
She curdles her own words, cooks string cheese and calls it blue;;
He nuzzles against the voice in his mind, perplexed by something new;;
They stretch their wounds to a structured form, but if they only knew- –
We expel tears from your head, resurrect the dead, form in an instant, but for a lifetime are in view
Written By: June Rossaert & BeNjamyn Upshaw-Ruffner
