Monday, December 29, 2008

A little bit about myself in the third person: Benjamin Nardolilli is twenty three years old and lives in New York where he looks for work and inspiration. He is originally from Arlington, VA. His work has appeared in Perigee, Farmhouse Magazine, Heroin Love Songs, The Delmarva Review, The Houston Literary Review and Perspectives Magazine. He maintains a blog at

1. Back Into The Dynamo

Dropping sparks and embers
All conversations break
All footsteps pile upIn the name of wantWant spins this place
Want comes even to the sleeping
Affects those in dark windows
There are screams
Bed turnings
Sheets toppled like despots
It serves them rightHow an they sleep
While so much is bright
While these streets
Refuse to release the day? Want and Want
Trampling need
Simple desire
Complicated demands with no rest
Ears want musicLoud, loud music,
For lack of a heart to listen to,
They all turn to thumps
And humps of sound around me,
Loud pillows, but no rest for them
Each one occupies a corner
And the corners multiply around them
Until the whole worldPasses them by, but not
Without looking at them first,
And what they have transported.
Who revolts?
Only the one with three dollars?
No mouth reaches outs
No throat warms with a song
To tempt three dollars,
To pierce the heavy pocket.

2. December Night Street to sneakers

Beat the night air,
Beat it until the moonlight is bleeding
I’ve got a family of strangers
What savings we have
We let out
Into these streams
Some sing together
And a few dance
Slow and groping,
The conductor
Is absent,
I keep up the percussion.

3. Our Discontent

The Kremlin in flames,
Onion domes roast in the distance,
They are the lucky ones,
Prepared for the winter.
Prague’s streets are empty,
Chicago won’t bother
About the blood and Paris
Returns to work.
One of their own dead,
They sing Latin and dig around
Until they find soft enough earth
To lay his bones in place of another.
A victory from a cloud,
Beakers held carefully,
Goggles worn in earnest,
White coats still not questioned.

4. Shelter From Beautiful Things

The earth is even now,
And the winds blow back with me,
With such warm breath,
Gently untying coats, removing
Gloves from hands, and everywhere
The world is covered in sweet
Soft flames, this is a place
For my beloved and I.
I give you Lilies of the Nile,
Your eyes opening up to the world,
All over a single stalk,
Like in your head,You smile, and we embrace
Under the shade of living things.
And by myself I walk through the fields
To home, clear skiesAnd no rains, but no rain
Would be a burden now
As a red amaryllis hangs over the gate
To welcome me home,
There is too much to do,
My bed is a dull place, although
It gives shelter
From so many beautiful things.

5. Return to Hesitation

In the town,
You gave me a larkspur gaze,
Those same blue violet eyes,
But also something toxic,
Too much of you perhaps,
A call for darkness,
then,We can feel each other, hear
One another fine,
And keep sight away for a while.
Back in the citySo many grow
In so many places
Even as I feel Like giving off fruit,So many still
Wish to bloom
To pollinate and spread,I walk with seeds
In my pockets already.
I’m overwhelmed,
Too many faces,
The orchid people burrowing
To explosions on rooftops,
You must understand the frustration,
As they bring out for each
A seduced
Specially crafted for a deception,
I close my eyes and think of the grass,
Simple, pardonable grass,
The teeth of the world,
Hair of the earth,
A resting place for us both.

Helpless I do not know if good intentions prevail among the elected, among the appointed, leaving me apprehensive that the fate ...