Vacationland

Benjamin Jenkins, life, New England, poem, poems, poetry, Portland, writing

I drink Moxy while I do my laundry.

My family, my friends, Jack,

And sixty minutes of time from my day

Keep me sane and breathing.

Life in Vacationland is sweet

And full of Eastern White Pine.

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The Axis Turns

Benjamin Jenkins, life, Maine, New England, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Bustling, brimming to boil over

Vigorous vibrations

Shock me, I’m reluctant

To open my eyes in the morning.

Humid Port City

Benjamin Jenkins, life, New England, New Hampshire, poem, poems, poetry, Portsmouth, writing

The female figure

Toes like candy

Creased arches

Architecture, Imposed over

Intersections of blue veins

Legs crossed

Pale thighs culminate at

Impenetrable shadow.

The Daisy Field (III/III)

Benjamin Jenkins, life, New England, poem, poems, poetry, Throwback Thursday, writing

We fell from Heaven

And struck every branch

On the way down.

The impact left a crater,

Half the diameter of a New England town.

With no direction I dream

Of rambling on.

Lucidly waking, scrambling for

Planes, trains, or bus.

Filling my hiking bag, hand encompassing a compass.

The Rhetorical Question

Benjamin Jenkins, life, New England, New Hampshire, poem, poems, poetry, Portsmouth, writing

It’s ill education

It’s the pursuit of satisfaction

Comparing cash value

To the subjective flow of time.