Benjamin Feliciano Poems

Scorned. That ought to be my name.
Constantly and consistently confused,
By the fact that she reels and rejects,
All within the same day.
...

Sometimes I look at people and wonder,
Not what they are thinking, but if they are thinking.
Woman on the train, are you remembering?
Man on the street, do you reminisce?
...

I never had an addiction to Mountain Dew,
I had an addiction to you.
Polite conversations, go by so fast.
My only goal: to make you laugh.
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With a finger to her lips she signaled to be silent.
A tacit statement synonymous to a secret love.
Only with eyes she spoke to abate my concerns.
Virtuous fidelity to be lauded and admired.
...

Her scent hit me like an ache,
And I was sore again.
I feel the influx of bile rise,
At my inability to restrain.
...

She walked beside me, as though she was mine,
For the first time in what seemed like years.
She sat beside me and shared chili cheese fries,
As we were bombarded by jealous leers.
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I spend so much time doting on earth and what it has,
Enjoying what's mine to use, to take, to squander.
I keep modeling myself to what I think will work,
But for my mistakes there is no remedy.
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It just so happens that my only nice dress pants are black,
And today I wore a black turtle-neck.
I sit here because the most comfortable seats of the bus are in the back,
If you don't believe me, you can check.
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There is rain falling.
I am one of them:
One of the many drops leaving imprints on the floor,
Slowly swallowed up... muddled and covered by a thousand more.
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You sing loudly along with the crowd and with the band.
You lose track of your voice and forget what you sound like.
You leave a little bit of who you are behind,
Mingled in the sweat and scent of beer.
...