Fighting A Different Battle

By Benjamin Grossman and Cassa Bassa

Two millennia ago 
I would’ve cried
Stony tears 
Like the stoics of legends

Today
For the injustices raging 
Against shared truth
I scream in silence 
Like a fallen knight 

There are no more 
Heroic battles 
On a field of dirt and dust
Where men were once raised
To die for future honor

We hide behind 
Neuro electro defenses
Attacking lives
Without sounding
The trumpet

Am I a departed
Clutching the white flag
Crippled by reality 
Or my own fatal mind?

(This is part of a collaborative poetic effort between myself and Cassa Bassa. Make sure you check out her blog by visiting Flicker Of Thoughts. She’s one of my favorites to read!)

Bohemian Nights

© 2021 Sirishty Thakur

By Sirishty Thakur & Benjamin Grossman

What is love?
I venture for the search,
Hovering above the restrictions,
Masquerading feelings,
Packing the streets and theaters.

In the shadows of the city lights,
The subtle touch of elation,
Tempered by the night’s venom.
A parade of tamers lurking to fragment dreams,
To seek the hook for their puppet master.

There’s always a cage for joyous affairs,
Some subjugation of our bohemian nights.

But I still reach possessively for the moment, as the pendulum strikes.
Eternity vibrant in your eyes,
Unwavering in my faith that love is untamable.

This poem was a collaboration with Sirishty Thakur. Please, do yourself a favor and check out her amazing poetry and photos on her blog: Thought Loop.

© 2021 Sirishty Thakur & Benjamin Grossman

Your Love

(For Ra)

Not the avalanche of twilight
Nor the moonbeam mist
Or the rain-wrapped clouds above

But a poetic movement
A mythical magical dream
A first and only

Some high and higher
Some better and best
Some always and never

Your love has no lows
No descents, no plateaus
No warnings, no dangers

That should be said another way
(Or in endless ways, really)
So let’s try it again

Your love has no phases
No halves, no slivers, no waning
It’s just full, complete, swoony … like when the sky supports the whole of the moon

The Lesser of Two Evils

By Benjamin Grossman and Cassa Bassa

The glacial battle begins in our heads
Face pressed to the sun-pierced window pane
January snow in recession, the signs of regression 
Half hidden like an iceberg in the arctic water 
And where once a soft glow illuminated the surface 
Only the placement of desolation remains
Reverberating silent screams 
  
There is no one way of knowing cold
The stages are fluid and transient
Its meaning bitterly ambiguous 
Yet in rare lucid moments, I see husks
An empty bed, scarred skin, chattered teeth
Spirit-numbed mind, missed meals, vacant smiles

There is no one way of knowing cold
Its symptoms appear to have no rhyme or reason
Although they move with wintry doom
From person to person increasing in aggression 
Till you understand the meaning of icy
Which unbeknownst to us creeps in succession 

There is no one way of knowing cold 
Though maybe it’s always the same
Emotional and physical reaction 
A state of feeling dangerously low
Struggling to survive between cold and colder
The very same polar opposites: Arctic and Antarctica

(This is part of a collaborative poetic effort between myself and Cassa Bassa. Make sure you check out her blog by visiting Flicker Of Thoughts. She’s always coming up with some exciting words! And often sketches, too.)