Author Archives: benhenleysmith

Paint in watercolour

Visions live in our imagination 
Time and space weave together as stories
Pioneers paint visions for others to see
Explosive ideas that burst at their seams

Beware, change is life’s only constant
Systems are random, complex and peculiar 
Your stories will mould and naturally so
Whatever you do, paint in watercolour

Use your thumb and smudge the edges 
Listen to others who slate your endeavours 
Soak information like a sponge gone dry 
Seek out contrarians and withstand their pressure 

Continue to celebrate your wildest ideas
Don’t stop imagining, building or crafting 
Fiction defines what it means to be human 
So paint it in watercolour, may it be everlasting

A mother and a friend

The darkness took hold
A numbness years old
Reawakened by circumstance
Stress took its chance

Lying under a tree
Crying unequivocally
I spiralled out of control
A lost broken soul

Rain mixed with tears
As the sadness triggered fears
That death might take
My mother and my brace

But unexpectedly
With care and dignity
She took my hand
Like only she can

Right when I worried
She didn’t die, she hurried
To support and love
My own soaring white dove

Thanks only to you
I’ve nearly seen it through
A mother and a friend
Time and again

A dance with the moon

A dance with the moon presented itself 
But left before we could find our embrace 
Darting between the clouds and the rain 
Carelessly teasing, hiding its face 

The stars watched on from their elegant view
As I stretched out my eyes for that glimpse
I sit here at night peering into the blue
Hoping to dance but we haven’t since 

So I wait in the dark for that moment to strike
It’s shocking white that resets my core 
Bolts my imagination back to true north 
And humbles me back to life from before

Decent job

Pour your heart into the bubbling pot 
It’s spitting blood from its previous lot 
The time and patience of ordinary men 
Hitting the grind time and again 

An economy for the many, not for the few
We didn’t realise that the many was you 
Hungry for power and forgetting the cost 
Bleeding the poor when all else is lost 

A race to the top, best job in the land 
He’ll do it better than the others can
Before long we’ll be back here again
Handing out the keys to number 10

Maybe I’m free

Two generations share in reflection 
Stories of a man who caught their affection 
Rarely does both a mother and a daughter 
Share in their grief with one another 

Days like these can hit close to home
The thought of those left on their own
The end of life isn’t easy to face
The inevitable condition of the human race

But Jack’s soul has found rest with his closet companion
Together now on their greatest adventure
Up in the clouds they hold hands and giggle
Remember stories from when Gladys was little
 
Your passing teaches us one last lesson
That runs counter to our initial perception 
That though death is life’s hard reality 
The idea of death can set us all free



Shame

It eats away 
Every day a chunk
More painful with time
A moth to her cloth

Strips of my pride
Flake away as dust
The longer it resides
The deeper she dives

Shame starts small
Slowly taking its hold
It has found my weak part of character
Burnt out and decayed

Trapped by the inevitable
Commitments ive made
To people who’ve been promised
And those with my name

The route out is lit
It’s clear to see
Yet I can’t bring myself
To its jaws of defeat

Turn the other way
Let it wash over
Another day gone
Another day older

Murky mornings

Murky mornings have a secret to keep
The wind sends her whisper whilst most are asleep
The crack of the cold is sharp in your chest
Appeals to some and puts off the rest

They won’t discover her wisdom or truth 
Set aside for those who venture anew
Time found alone to think and to feel 
To ponder life and determine what’s real 

Rush

Breath hits the air
Wind through your hair
Nature at its best
Your body at its test

I shouldn’t but I did
Hit and then I hid
Lust of greed and man
To fight the best you can

In over head
More than first said
A word hard to keep
But a necessary feet

Adrenaline of sorts
As events take their course
No feeling could ever touch
A taste of fucking rush

Saturday night

A quiet space in London’s abyss

10pm and a place to sit

Seeing Toby who’s character and wit

Wakes me up and keeps me lit

Saturday nights in the centre of town

Heavy drinking and thumping sounds

We find some quiet away from the crowds

Sharing thoughts till homeward bound

Thank you Toby for sitting with me

Always listening (or pretending to be)

See you soon hopefully

Get home safe and say hey to Penny