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Preface

During my highschool years, I got into poerty as a way to vent that "teenage angst". We all had that angst. We all hated something in the world, and some of us are even still pissed at something. In highschool poetry helped me explain things before I learned the argument process. I made poems about anything that was on my mind at the time. Some were critiques on society, some were about love, some were about loving no more, and many were the product of my insomnia.
I must admit, my early poems sucked ass. It wasn't untill I took creative writing my poems began to have more structure and make more sense rhythmically. Some of the poems below are assignments from my creative writing class, but the poems that have stanzas containing a pair of rhyming lines are mine.
My inspiration to write poetry always comes to me when I'm under the influence of some sort of strong emotion. It's apparent in some poems that I was in love. Other poems were the product of a vastly deep depression. If you're not one for dark imagry, try to bear with me on my dark poems. If you've manage to read all this, and you're still up for some more reading, then please continue and enjoy my works of poetry!

Chemically Treated Children
By Ben Klos

The world is no longer a garden of Eden
Evil conquered, and man was beaten.

A forest is nothing but towers of steel.
Nature is nothing, a forgotten ideal.

Life as seen now is no longer magic.
Years of evolution, our origin is tragic.

Processed food, that only deprives.
Self destruction, that defines our lives.

Teen problems are now psychologically deep.
A home is nothing but a place to sleep.

Following desires aid moral collapse.
Anti-depression drugs limit our synapse.

Into a cold reality, an infant is hurled.
Passed onto a child, is a broken world.

Given a demise, before we even begin.
We are the chemically treated children.

Flowers of Deception
By Ben Klos

The natural flower was so beautiful and awesome.
And the secret of life could be found in its blossom.

It was until the day, the mechanical flower dawned.
Another creation, another idea, man had spawned.

People would buy these mechanical flowers.
They gazed at them long, sometimes for hours.

Fields were filled with self-replicating metal.
Beautiful and razor sharp, were each petal.

Stifled were flowers who have committed no crime.
Making way were the flowers of a modern time.

It was not thought, beauty could be found in a machine.
But man loved its creation, a mechanical serene.

But something was missing, something unrefined.
The soul and the spirit; nature was left behind.

Loves Final Word
By Ben Klos

You want to leave, without a loss
But return with a concussive blow
Worse than a crucifixion on a cross
Disembowelment, guts spill below

A gargling fork in the balls
Ripping my vessel apart viciously
My blood spray on the walls
You bring me suffering, ambitiously

Your knife swings quickly upward
Into my eyes, it parts flesh
On you, my blood gravitates toward
The scarlet undoubtedly fresh

You leave me dying alone
No apology, I am nothing to you
A final kick silences the moan
I am now gone, with nothing due

You hate me
Goodbye

The Dichotomous Strife
By Ben Klos

I constantly promise to not take my own life
But it only gets harder, when holding a knife
My mind wants out, and death seems promising
That choice is strong in my dichotomous strife

Similar to myself, my tears teeter on the edge
With sorrow bombarding, it tests my pledge
Between my will to live and my drive to die
The torment I try to endure, acts like a wedge

A tear may evaporate, but the pain never dries
That agony only hides in the depths of my eyes.
I smile a facade, one that I sometimes believe
But whenever I hide, the better part of me dies.

So when it dies, when I lose that better part
The world turns to grays, and life loses its art
Without a cry, the world turns to a calm quiet
Resembling the silence yield by a stopped heart

The Masochists Ballad
By: Ben Klos

In the land of time and space,
You and I shared a bond so strong
The universe was a loving place,
And nothing could ever go wrong

We would sit together and gaze
Our love was integrated, combined
We were intertwined, like a maze
But despite our gaze, we were blind

Pure, untainted, we lived in virtue,
But demons bring along temptation
The allure of sin, introduced a taboo,
And we lead a path to masturbation

You bit my arm. I felt something exotic
These feelings, emotions I cannot convey
You gave me pain, yet something erotic
I did not know what on earth to say

Pain is starting to feels like a pleasure,
And you have awakened my masochism
This experience has no other measure,
And it was caused by your newfound sadism

We discovered an exciting perversion
My care for you is shown in another way
The affection I give you is a new version
And as you start to love me, you say,

''We are now untethered by a false love
my rage now knows no boundary
I am unsurpassed. No one is above.
I am iron. I am my own foundry''

Violating me without my permission
The whip makes a rasping swish
And you assume my submission
Binding me in ways that you wish

And so, pain and pleasure have similarities
While still opposites, love equates to hate
There are harmonies between polarities
Me and her are perfect. We are conjugate

The Mistress of Innocence
By: Ben Klos

She's the mistress of sensation
with an epidermal concentration

She takes out all her tools
and she lays out all her rules

Shortly after she gets started
taking me places once uncharted

With her cloth, she blinds me
and with a rope, she binds me

My hands feel something metallic
but she makes the moment phallic

She brings me to a hype
as she ties me to the pipe

I only tell her to be gentle;
make the moment sentimental

And I wonder if she'll strike,
or if - what she does - I'll like.

Without the sense of sight
The skin is easy to excite

I love it when she loves me
even more so when I can't see

With my hands feeling metal
and her lips, soft as a petal

she smells like potpourri
as she kisses me so softly

I'll try to kiss her back
but I'm only seeing black

I cannot feel her skin
so I can't return the sin

I keep on asking, "please"
but she'd rather be a tease

She'd rather have me purr,
than to nicely let me kiss her.

Her tongue gives quite a lick
and she lays it pretty thick.

The more she can deliver
The more I start to quiver

I know when she is done
when she tells me it was fun

But she must not have a soul
She left me tied to the pole!

Love, Lust, and Lots of Blood
[Working Title]
By: Ben Klos

Black on black and the filthy opaque
Of your mesh lingerie
Rotten sex consumes you in your wake
But I like it your way.

Cut .., the skin will easily break
As we joyfully bleed
This wicked love we’ll never forsake
Though it might mislead

Red on red with layers of ache
Pour out your liquid lust.
This bloody mess is not a mistake
It’s a tribute to our trust.

Body on body and we both partake
We both share the pain.
It’s proof that our love is not fake
We’re each other’s stain.

White on white, I get you to shake
As I satiate your needs.
I pour my love on you, a gushing lake
Of my spilling seeds.

Lord of the Gothic Mafia
By Ben Klos

The windows flowing with waves of rain.
Night along with crime consumed the city
There were victims outside the glass pane
But the ghetto's true overlord felt no pity

The master sits on his kneeled over bitch
He leans forward and breaths in the dust
It's strong shit and makes his nose twitch
The drugs turn into sex; the inevitable lust

They start to fuck, and their love is vile
She works him, with all her needs ignored
Still he brutalizes her, with hints of a smile
She takes the abuse, waiting till he's bored

His woman is trash, so he throws her away
Pacing towards his throne, he lights a clove
The prince inhales, flicking ash in the tray
Slouching in his seat, he over looks his trove

He ponders his value and worth in the world
But feels nothing as he inspects his possessions
In his seat, he sinks deeper and more unfurled
There was no value in his criminal obsessions

He pulled off the table, a gun amongst drugs
He waved it around and teasingly shot things
"Why am I worshipped by you and my thugs?
What makes me the king among other kings?"

He let out a sigh and turned the pistol around
He ran with the devil, and his soul was bought
Thinking about hell; his destination was found
The last words said, before the gun's final shot

"I guess I'll depart. I'll be going home now"

The Good Shepherd
By Ben Klos

I've come as a missionary, to another foreign land
To set up a church, and to lend a nice helping hand

But there's truth in my lies, and there's lies in my truth
They take my words to heart, especially their youth

I'm spreading my dogma to the weak and the poor
I tell them about God, although my faith is unsure

I may be a shepherd, but I'm more lost than my sheep
They don't know I'm lying, and I'm losing my sleep.

They wouldn't understand, they don't see on my level
My alliance is with god, but I still run with the devil

They think I am something better, than what I claim
I've become their false idol; they never say my name

I tell them, "I am not your God! I am not all knowing!"
But to them I'm an angel; perfect, humble and glowing

I came here thinking that I was helping the misguided
But these people were fine, it was my fate undecided

This was a cruel trick that my God bestowed upon me
He wasn't worried about them, he just wanted me to see

The Silent Woman
By Ben Klos

A little old woman laid in her bed
She would never move her body or head
She never walked
Or even talked
Because she had long been dead.

Disobedient
By Ben Klos

A father once punished two of his lads
For the children followed unacceptable fads
One kid was delirious
The other was furious
So the latter kicked his pa in the nads

Crossroads
By Ben Klos

An exchange student came from afar
He never saw roads of rocks and tar
He never saw traffic
His situation was tragic
For he eventually got hit by a car

Oops
By Ben Klos

A man once bought a laxative kit
He didnt know how well it would sit
It began to start
He forced out a fart
But instead came out some shit.
===|||===

Decay Poems
In the following poems, each stanza contains two lines that rhyme. Each following stanza has one less word in it, and the poem eventually decays into a stanza with a pair single word lines. I chose a subject matter that would compliment the structure of the poem itself. While this stucture has more than likely been created by someone before me, I came up with this stucture on my own.

Abrasive Transmission
By Ben Klos

Brain waves halt, interconnections dead
supercomputer malfunction, in my head

Fired neurotransmitters in collection
Neuron detour, bad connection

Exponentially diminishing libido
Irrational logistics incognito

Synaptic unplugging
Cortex debugging

System
Shutdown

I/O Consciouness
By Ben Klos

Cognition circuit status, still undefined
Functioning, with an incoherent mind

No correlation, inconsistent thinking
Information flood, cortex sinking

Reaction time, slow
Brain fuels, low

Actions, frail
Senses, fail

Forced
Awake

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