Ben Owens
Ben Owens Poems
Christine's nights of '96
kept her mind off
the horror of the
boogeyman, but still kept her awake
...
In reality
beauty is seen and heard
by many a people and then
interpreted differently by each individual
...
In the corner of a messy room
stood tall, a red vacuum cleaner
with bristles that looked meaner
than any old household broom
...
At the table I sit
drinking my green tea
from a stolen expresso
cup.
...
Pipe smoke was all I
could taste after the
door had closed
gently after me
...
Ben Owens Biography
Hello. My name is Ben Owens and I am an extremely amateur writer after a home to house my poems. I hope that you enjoy them and I would love any constructive criticism you can offer me. Always aching to improve on my craft. Thank you.)
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The Nights That Daddy Cried
Christine's nights of '96
kept her mind off
the horror of the
boogeyman, but still kept her awake
Her bed was as soft as a
cloud and her room
cast no shadows.
Nor did any board squeak under her weight
The toys in the corner stared
softly and guarded her
tea party table from
the lesser loved dolls that craved imaginary tea cakes.
Every night just made Christine
restless as plates played
frisbee, whilst Mummy
drank juice and shouted for daddy to 'let go for Christ's sake! It's only one drink more.'
In '97 mummy didn't come round
so much and left Dad
in charge of the days and the nights.
Never did Christine see her Dad drink juice that her Mother drank.
Water did just fine.
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4/25/2024 3:50:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
