Poetry

 

Poetry

all poetry on this webpage written by Ben Bussewitz

dedicated to Taylor Swift

« Un poème d'amour pour la dame qui de la chanson »

by Ben Bussewitz

La fille de la guitare est comme des promenades,

Avec du garçon d’habite en colleurs et couleur,

Et elle habit en rouge et du blanc et du noir,

Comme la petite fille du ballon rouge.

Il veut d’elle mètre en couleur,

Elle veut d’il bâtir une maison de la musique et du ton,

Mais la deux ne savent pas qu’ils n’ont pas,

Oui, en deux les copains trouvait, découvrait,

Et en des victorieux mains du deux cartes du jour,

Les parfaites délicieux, rouge, bleu, coleurs, et d’elle chanson,

Nous habitons d’une blanc nouveau maison de vie,

Et en deux nous parlions très différente que d’après.

Elle dit : « Je suis en heureux t’avec trop des collets à lapin ! »

Je parle : « Oui, nous mangerons en coleurs et en chanson. »

"Loutro Honey"

     .. poem first published in Mediterranean Poetry; revised 2025

by Ben Bussewitz

As we sail on a tender breeze of the Sea of Krete

I stroke her hair and the gulls flap mazes of crystal ripples

    -  Stumbling upon you was like finding Sphinx eyes in hay

    -  The manner in which you enchanted me glowed a mirror on my soul

We’ll drown down raki, chew sunflower seeds, and listen to Nikos’

Loud opinions in the only village bar of Frangokastelo, just miles from Gavdos

After we stroll through the National Garden and the quays of Port of Piraeus,

You in your nicest dress; we’ll land a ferry in Heraklion, tour the Palace

Of Knossos, follow timetables to Rethymnon, pitch bivouac in the ancient ruins

Of Fortezza, swill the central farmer’s market, bustling crowds, lighthouse, and colorful abodes

Of Chania, hold each other’s hands on an effusive traversal of the Samarian Gorge,

Drink water of ecstasy in Sfakia, make love on the beach, jubilate in Agia Roumeli,

Vacation a fortnight on the hidden littoral cascade-sedimentary, ascend Nikos’ ship, 

Sip Tsoumpraina Mavri; I will sing you love poetry on a hammock softly swaying,

We will lead goats across the sand-pebble terrain to where the waves rush back and fling,

Wash them as Nikos’ inspires his Weimaraner with most loving company,

Live on Nikos’ plot of terrain-terrace for as long as we desire, then take home in the enduring ramparts

Of the wondrous citadel of Land-Ho, a new Ithaka. Anything you wish will be yours.

And as we lay back, breathing in the olive-oil that is heaven swept, we will love one another forever and longer and more.

“Beauty”

by Ben Bussewitz

Beauty-O beauty-O-clouds in-the-mist,

the rising up general vision of imparting,

for the forest, island, and mountain children.

Land ho, ay oh, the land, through the ocean

stirring, enveloping the sand, the wide-open river,

of kale and community,

of bread and time,

of singing the right words,

    at the perfect fraction of a moment, in time’s day and timelessness.

"Self-portrait at 34"

The heart of the woman,

Is the song in my head,

The way that it is going,

Is all children will be fed,

The life of tomorrow is weightlessness,

And true, and the one that is,

With me is my heart for you.

There are so many ways light gives light,

To the day. To the love God imparts,

Unto all people, to the hearts,

That he shapes with clay,

Forevermore there is no weight,

Over time, timeless vertigo, her song donning lampstands,

Vine of the spine relief,

Into a brand new expression, an endless exultation,

A heart leaps into the air, right out, spinning,

Lands right beside me and fills me up with honey,

And we dwell placidly inside each other, the love, the heart,

With loving, tender care, heartfelt prayer,

Right from up there, horizons,

Making eternity beat on with wind chimes,

In the oneness,

Of flesh,

Unreal dimensions,

Flawless bodies, beautiful love,

Heaven-sent, from above,

Hearts full of goodness,

Eleventh heaven,

A sublime presentation,

And mountains of snow and wind,

Vertical, her entire flow, ideations,

Minds intertwined,

Souls that are always facing one another,

Love deep that is never-ending,

In zero-gravity, open-air shutters,

She dangles with me tangling there high throngs,

Time without space, hearing another new refrain, golden glimmer,

In the Babylonian Talmud study, life tree ripe,

Where time goes down the river, with fate and chance,

The daughter of the New Commandment breathes,

First, to the wild new speed, caught glance,

Of the fidelity and freedom bequeathed,

From the globe on a string, new years gradually,

East to west, north to south, gliding at one,

The round circuit of the breeze,

Beaming to Kingdom's open door,

Taking royal speed by the river-bed,

The soaring Pigmies all caught up in today,

An overwhelmed and lost, full of God-breathed vigor,

Nation, Whom he has come to set at cylindrical farms,

Brightly, the brothers of Capernaum, cheers to,

Their father, and life full of the prayers, and life with,

Spiritual cusp, the life of the reapers' luck,

All together, long and heady, away to the movement of our heart on strings,

Intermingling led,

With the weightlessness of a new year,

Life breathed once and for all,

Risen again, a soul a mile tall, gliding to heaven.

"untitled"

The way that this is going

Is the river onward and the places I’ve been,

Always with Tiea, Jesus leading.

Heart as light as feather,

Weightless new years,

Light always here like

A paper weight, a paper airplane,

A poem through the air,

Right within her, right here.

"Spring On the Wind— an Autumn Sonnet"

Maker I'm dreaming about, heartfelt, in turtle-shell,

Cast my eyes on true perception,

Of the sun, illuminating the skies heights,

Clearly sidestepping everything in sight,

Oh my, wave to the clouds as they pass along by,

All right, you're my friend— it's truly a wonderful light—

To behold; we don't need a wagon to get to the Western frontier,

We just need each other, as our breath, hearts and steps beat as one,

On the shores and crags and mountaintops, you are always already, already now,

Unraveling and enveloping, all around. Bring about a wish on a loosely unwinding,

Thinly-knotted sailboat's mast; for we may tread our legs and then swim, underwater,

Enchantment; we will be in the Caribbean and Aegean, keep your eyes open as we're heading,

In constant motion toward liberation for everyone, each and every nation as a unified people,

Endlessly and zealously, ebulliently, together and forever, beside the Governor of Light, the Lamb of God.

“There is a time for everything”

There is a time for everything under the sun.

There is a time to have and to hold,

There is a time to dwell and grow old,

There is a time for this and for that,

There is a time for American and French,

There is a time for the sovereign government of God,

it’s the time we have in our hands,

the time where we eat and love each other,

the time we lay back and chew bread, olive oil, balsamic vinaigrette,

sea salt, drink wine, and say we are blessed,

the hearts, minds, and souls who triumph

so strong, in love of all people, all of one another.

and while our heart beats we bring language to bear,

to speak to our walk as we share it with God.

"The Manner of Sunshine"

The sun shines down on the sunflowers

of the arable land, the happiest of flowers proclaim

the happiest rain.  For this year the Nile,

was starved of her silt, but the dry terrain became replete

from the cup of water I put on the hill.

For the water evaporated and became our fill.

And the sun was perfect for the desert of repletion.

Like the winnowing fan of deposition.

The boulder was moved, the angels brought on

the soldiers dread.  And it all was evaporated,

and on the wine and bread, our fill, of an endless harvest.

"The Heart to Wonder"

the life of a billion liveliness shining,

in the light of a heartfelt of a cerebral gland,

gliding pituitary limefelt life,

in the basketball fever of a haste at work,

cycling out cyclones of gymnasts that can't

touch her madness, her zesty, awesome haste,

the life of gladness in the heart of the doorbell crazy-eight.

the life of magic, wandering, spinning to another bend on the train,

where our love, and peace, and gladness, float life-laden down the lazy stream buoy of upstream.

"The Two Chosen"

in the life of the fox-hole den,

where the sunlight reaches and bends,

away in a cloak until next season,

we know our ways! we know their ways!

like sheep on a foggy still-life afternoon,

where the city grazes and puts out oneness of,

a fresh magical citadel on the peak of the trail,

and we bring our handbags and sandals that never fail,

the life cashed in and a motel light on,

a paradise heaven, with the shining bright hearts,

in the way of a newcomers rollicking, frolicking upstream,

a miracle of inertia in lamp-fans floating and vagrantly spinning,

we spill out voices of ancient lullabies of novel melodics,

in the limelight of the field of sonic, cloaked candlelight.