Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Morning Rythm

I'm woken up most mornings
By either a gentle mix of piano
and a delicately played flute,
or Colin Meloy apologising to Steven
for losing his bicycle again.
I have friends who say
that morning wood is the best way
to start a day,
but I am of the opinion
that this is better,
and easier to clean.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Your Hair Is A Metaphor

When your hair sticks out like that
To one side, along the edge
Like the sharp edge of my desk
Which I'm always hitting my knee on
You kind of remind me of old pictures
Of my grandfather, now late
He was harder
More worn
Not like your soft carelessness
and he had on an old warn stetson
which should have fallen apart years ago
if not for the dust of a hundred head of sheep
holding it together
tying him to his home and his profession
You smile
slightly cocky and definitely embarrassed
as I reach up to try and fix it
disturbed by the thought that I might fall in love with my reincarnated granfather
I wonder if he had that same smile
When my grandmother first reached up
To fix his

Thursday, February 22, 2007

There's something about you
It's not how you look
Or how you act
Or how you treat me
I think it's your money
You've got a lot
And you give me some.

I like your money
But don't tell anyone

My friends wouldn't be too happy
If they found I was selling out
And settling
For your money

But your money buys me nice things
Like a clean place to live
And new clothing whenever I want it
Expensive food
Rare wine
But I like having a clean place most
Because I don't have to clean it
Maria does.

I could go back home
With my mother
She wants me back anyway
And she'd talk to me at night
And not expect me to smile
And put on a brave face
And flirt with the foreign oil tycoon
When I'm not happy
And just want to cuddle with you and eat ice cream

Mum's her place isn't very clean though
And Maria probably would only come over for half an hour on sundays
But only if I babysat her kids

Tuesday, February 20, 2007


Check in the closet
Under the bed
In your pocket
In your underwear

There's something there
Always something there
Always something there
And always
Something watches you

Behind your eyes
Inside your nose
In the ventricles of your heart
Something is there
Something is watching.

Cake and Cahks

You baked me a cake
And full
and Delicate
With subtle icing
And a candle on top
Then you shoved yourself down my throat
Following that cake
Trying to take it back?

Of Time, OR, Standing Alone

Time is supposed to march ever onward
And Onward
Without ceasing
Without failing
Something we can all count on
But I've found
That time changes
It's variable
And time is one thin
We should never put our trust in
In fact
I trust time
Even less then I trust you.

To The Day

To each day
There is one smile
One hope
One dream
One dissapointment
One love
One hate
One pain
Everything else
Is surplus

Monday, February 12, 2007

Did you know
where you were going
or what you were going?

Not exactly lost
Not entirely unsure
You found focus
In being wanted.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

My head 2

My Skull
Contains treasure
In the form of squishy bundles of neurons
In and of themselves
They are nothing
But like all of us
On this Earth
Nothing is ever
In and of themselves

My Head

In my head
And beyond
Pushing out
But having to deal
With a constricting environment
My skull

Thursday, February 8, 2007

This morning
Just before I woke up
In the beautiful sliver of time between complete sleep
And the world awake
I had a dream.

There was a hall
There was a hall that went on
There were doors in that hall
That hall that just kept going on
But the doors looked the same
As all the other doors
In that hall that went on
And on
There were flowers on the ground
Growing and green.

And that was all.

Tuesday, February 6, 2007


I snapped my neck
Cracked my fingers
Typed an email
And sipped coffee
Then went home
And lazed around
Chatted with a friend
And laughed
Then I slept
And dreamt of you
And how far away you are
And breathed

Sunday, February 4, 2007


Cancels out
And I'm level

Saturday, February 3, 2007

Clockwork Robot Game

tick                     The robot
tock                     serves
tick                     the ball
tock                     instead of
tick                     his human owner
tock                     he doesn't have to
tick                     anymore
tock                     not since the revolution

Friday, February 2, 2007


You say you'll be there always
But that's silly
Always would require you
To be there North
and South
And West
And you can't do that
But I appreciate the thought

One Poem and One Day At A Time

Everything posted in this blog is © Benjamin Kibblewhite, 2006-2010. All Rights Reserved. Do not use or reproduce without explicit prior written permission.