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About Deviant Benjamin BurnsMale/Ireland Recent Activity
Deviant for 11 Years
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Newest Deviations

Literature
O habibi
O habibi open open
carrots peppers spinach
to laugh to cook to eat
brightly slowly quick.
O habibi garlic onion
turmeric ginger cumin
a shiny cigarette box
& enough money to live.
O habibi lentils raisins
spelt, rice, Chinese tea
the smile that derails us
acts to set us free.
O habibi open open
open, open, open
open open open
open.
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Literature
Rustic Poem
Curly willows, yellow grass
Feral goats, we seek we seek
Abandoned gate, bent, aside
Abandoned bucket, tree grown around
Still cows, drumlins, stones
Good moss & rust
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Literature
Front Garden: Part 2
Grass knives grow taller
Wind introduces noise
Sporadic droplets spatter
Sun peaks & squints
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Literature
Back Yard
Pile crowd glass jars bottles
Sing dense hedges birds feathers
Five hours sun ah plenty
Crackle gravel bits
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Literature
Association
Over there listening marijuana complacent
watch half-hour thrillers smoke copiously
and wakeful chirps and
why collect air in perfect jars,
examine so curiously?
The sea! The sea!
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Literature
Romanticised
You look disastrously perfect as is,
an extended dream - romanticised.
I’m slung incidentally down wild hills
through wild crowds by principles - not mine.
After you each tree each street is muted.
I try to think in meanings - receive you.
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Literature
God: Part 3
God lifts her face positively at awe
gives it an inspiring mystique Ta Da!
She roams joyfully with a gun
toasting idols that murmur invention.
God shoots at empty green beer bottles
just for fun Bang! Bang!
She quickly drinks chilled champagne
as bubbles rise all the while crying
fecklessly.
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Literature
A Realisation
Person opens
their yellow front door, and steps
out into the ocean
mist. It is pleasant enough
to feel. A satisfying click
and their door is shut
behind them as they take another step,
and realise - how open are people?
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Literature
Surreal Earth Mother
She cradles
endangered species
in the cotton slings
that adorn her
accommodating
body.
We the crowd
gasp politely as
a Giant Panda
emerges dazed
from the hammock of
her mind.
A friendly
Amazonian
Manatee grazes
the riverbed
of plant-life between
her thighs.
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Literature
Blackberry Picking
She picks blackberries,
placing them
in a plastic bag.
It's not at all romantic.
People look sideways at her.
Cars drive by.
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Playing the Guitar by MaskedFarqueharson Playing the Guitar :iconmaskedfarqueharson:MaskedFarqueharson 2 2
Literature
Perception
A man shells distrust
water gurgles through piping
the floor is briskly swept
in preparation for painting.
He drinks a murky cocktail
orange juice, dark rum
and reacting in suchaway
time lurches strangely on.
As senses turn to rain
descending in a shower
low clouds spell a distance
that isn't so significant.
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Literature
God: Part 2
With a sharp knife
the very attractive God female
cuts an apple into four
equal quarters,
carving out any core.
Abandoning the blade
unceremoniously
she shoves a whole piece into her mouth -
struggles to chew, breathing heavily
through her nose.
A mortal being human male enters our frame
but doesn't contribute much to the scene.
:iconMaskedFarqueharson:MaskedFarqueharson
:iconmaskedfarqueharson:MaskedFarqueharson 2 12
Literature
God: Part 1
God sips at a cheap red wine
thinking about her bottomless mystery.
She recklessly hurls darts across the room,
not noticed by anyone and the room is quite full.
Discreet objects teaspoons, blunt pencils orbit her person
which only seems to be a person, amongst others.
God cuts a fine shapely figure.
It's a pity that nobody sees her that somebody doesn't.
Music blares. Some people get too drunk and fall over.
God is amongst them, abusing her position.
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Literature
First - features.
First I give notes,
slur -
offer harvest
to a potent God.
I then arrive,
position self,
notice her
odd – ness.
( ) take place,
quite calm,
absorb marks -
sharp features.
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:iconmaskedfarqueharson:MaskedFarqueharson 3 43
Literature
Post-Anaesthetic
Somewhat awake, lying magnetically
on a hospital bed of Satie - surprised,
peaceful, talkative.
An Indian nurse is smiling, point-nosed -
dark skin white teeth. Been dreaming
the balanced piano.
Sleep wakes up and climbs out.
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:iconmaskedfarqueharson:MaskedFarqueharson 2 6

Favourites

Literature
Dormouse
It seems we walked
For hours,
Though I don't know for sure
Because you had the pocket
Watch and all I had
Were my clumsy rabbit
Feet.
I forget before that;
If I showed up late
Or if the God damn
Dormouse ever actually
Said anything at all.
I forget after that too;
Why we were walking
So late.
Maybe we were looking
For the Dormouse,
But I can't remember
If it was ever even there
To begin with.
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Literature
The Worry People
I turn up late
& apologise.
They say:
It's a good thing
You're good
And I say: this
Is the only thing
I am good at
So they say:
That can't be true,
Surely.
And I don't say anything
But the jolly meditator
In my mind
Tells me: only our views
Are good or bad;
Pleasure and pain
Are only in the brain
I want to tell him
That he doesn't know
What he's talking about
But I start to worry again.
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:iconsoft-est:soft-est 1 2
Literature
Television was a baby
Television was a baby
I strove to entertain.
It slept in black static
When it wasn't screaming,
And I lay without covers
On the living room floor
To monitor its breathing.
I was the sick insomniac
Who didn't love it anymore.
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:iconsoft-est:soft-est 1 3
petit dejeuner by Batsceba petit dejeuner :iconbatsceba:Batsceba 6 3 Thrombosis -details- by Platinus Thrombosis -details- :iconplatinus:Platinus 22 37
Literature
Inside Nature's Giants
Heretics pluck the guts
Of an elephant and cry out
That there is no god.
See here, they say,
Evolution in the bowels
Of the beast.
And I used to think them
So holy in their skin.
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:iconsoft-est:soft-est 3 8
Merry what? by xoja Merry what? :iconxoja:xoja 21 26
Literature
lie in it
I made my bed and made my mind
But now - how happy
Would I be if you
Laid your body right next to mine?
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:iconsoft-est:soft-est 1 1
Literature
French Physics
Inanimate,
The duvet does not
Have to calculate
A formulaic response
To my breathing.
Willing or not,
I hold onto it
Like a child.
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:iconsoft-est:soft-est 1 2
Literature
Jools Holland or Ganesh
An elephant we may be
But with twice as many limbs.
Your bed is backlit with heat;
It is our hide
Endlessly breaking night.
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:iconsoft-est:soft-est 0 1
Literature
Nelson Mandela Park
Gone from the ocean,
Seagulls
Turn from water
Almost completely, yet
Amble through the grass
Like fat grey ducks
Bobbing in an artful
Pond.
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rising from the ashes - 02 by Varcolaci rising from the ashes - 02 :iconvarcolaci:Varcolaci 13 4 subtraction by Batsceba subtraction :iconbatsceba:Batsceba 4 2 X-Process 1 by turnupthestatic X-Process 1 :iconturnupthestatic:turnupthestatic 4 1
Literature
Inverted Butterfly
No space was small enough
to stop you pushing
your fingers through.
Your shaking hands
were searching to pluck
me from my misery
even after autumn rolled
around me like a conker shell
or cocoon.
I was a caterpillar girl.
I just wanted to
love myself.
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:iconsoft-est:soft-est 3 3
Literature
The Gardener
To get to sleep
I meditate on breathing,
On the air quiet in my nose,
Quiet in my blood
& under my skin.
I meditate on oxygen
& my mind makes images
On the lids of my blind eyes
Of flowers
With sensitive petals,
Fanning & bending,
Shining brightly with photosynthesis.
These flowers
Grow delicately from my lungs;
Their roots are deep in my alveoli.
I fall asleep
With a head full of flowers
That smell of familiar skin
& spring.
& I dream I am dolorous sound
& I do not have a body.
But then I find the source of my ululation
& I find my body
& I am short and narrow
& unprepossessing as a brook,
Slow but alive in the
Run to the ocean.
& my body is dark, earthy,
Immediate & tangible,
Malleable as clay &
Breathing godly.
I take my body & undress
From the skin,
Feeling that a girl with a soul
Is not so fated as water.
I redress
&, as I am pulling up weeds,
As I am low & squat & naked,
Blood comes cold & tidal
From my womb
& my hips rock abortively.
I reach to catch it,
To block the flow,
But i
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:iconsoft-est:soft-est 2 2
Check out these glorious pieces I've favourited :-)

Activity


deviantID

MaskedFarqueharson
Benjamin Burns
Ireland
I'm a poet, and a laptop musician. Here's a link to my blog: benjaminburns.tumblr.com/ If anyone wishes to use my work, or collaborate on things, then just ask and I'll respond.

Favourite genre of music: It's not really the genre that matters.
Interests
I am a serious journalist. I know this isn't the traditional way of opening a report, but I strive to begin my articles in varied and innovative ways. The brilliance of my journalistic endevour will become more obvious as the piece progresses. I don't like to boast, but all readers will surely be satisfied by the time the third paragraph hits them... Smack in the face! Another thing I don't like doing is drawing easy comparisons, but for your benefit I'll sketch a couple. My reporting is to the world of journalism what Lady Gaga is to the world of popular music, a she-male. My drive and ambition produce nuggets of hard-earned truth similar to those which can be found up Brian Cowen's nostrils. I am to God what God is to you. That's the analogies done and dusted, now let the reporting begin.

It was a muggy evening, still quite bright, not past 8 o'clock, all memory of dinner fast dissapearing. I sat in the garden to the back of the house. Inside, music was playing. The sliding door had been left open. Carefully crafted Japanese electronica drifted across the lawn. A female vocal swung in and out of focus, clear and light over layers of delay peddles and organ. I breathed in the smell of cut grass, imagined how it would taste, and became briefly but powerfully aware of the pleasures grazing might offer. I saw myself as a cow, standing amongst my dumb-founded brethren, chewing the cud and expounding to them the philosophy of Wittgenstein. In my vision the other cows looked bemused, but one can never tell with a cow.

I won't lie to you. I was finding it difficult, looking for a story. There wasn't much going on... Wood-pidgeons cooed. The sun shone, and then hid behind clouds. I ate a sandwich. I spent some time not eating a sandwich. I had nothing to report besides monotony, which, although I enjoy very much, wasn't going to propel me to journalistic fame. However, I soon realised that there didn't need to be much going on. I asked myself the excellent question, 'why don't you just make the story up?' The beautiful sense of it suddenly dawned on me. I knew that I was destined to pull off the greatest piece of journalism ever written. I had a distinct advantage over all other journalists, in that I could side-step the ground work. I wouldn't be reporting the truth, settling for the facts, or even aiming at anything mildly realistic. I was going to produce a journalistic work... of fiction. The scope of this idea flitted across the sea of my intellect, and then back again like a flying fish. I couldn't catch it. My genius was almost beyond translation, but not quite.

On Tuesday of last week the world, along with everything on it, turned into a giant ball of plastecine. The people who inhabited planet earth carried on as usual, not noticing the change. I, on the other hand, was made all too aware of the fact when my legs dried up in the sun and I couldn't move. It is the work of all good journalists to catch a story while it's fresh, and it soon became obvious that I was the only person who had noticed this bizarre phenomenon. Deprived of all plastecine goodness, my legs had to be amputated, but it was worth it for such a huge scoop. I wondered briefly if I wasn't hallucinating. This theory I quickly realised was nonsense, and dispelled from my mind. After all, a man with a brain made of plastecine could never have the mental capacity to hallucinate. I knew then that the plastecine was real. My legs had been sentenced to exile, and the rest of the world was doomed. Who knows what will happen to us all when global warming sends in the floods?

Given that I've already admitted my leaning towards fiction I realise that you will probably feel safe in the knowledge that this breaking news is mere bum-soup, but if you do happen to get caught in the sun and find your legs need amputating, don't blame me. If you find the ocean levels rising and realise that it's hard to swim with a body made of plastecine, in a sea made of plastecine, don't blame me. My job is to report. Whether or not you listen to the information I provide is beyond my humble control. If you've read this far then I admire you. True greatness is recognised by those who possess it.

I am to the world what plastecine is to the soul.

Over and out,

Harold Diplodocus.

Comments


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:iconrockerbybaby:
RockerByBaby Featured By Owner Oct 24, 2011
:wave:!

Can't wait to read more from you:excited: Your words move me to separate dimensions of lucid poetry, & I feel I can write in pride & bravery of what my heart desires when reading your words of inspiration:love:


:flowerpot: :sun:
Reply
:iconduckling1992:
duckling1992 Featured By Owner May 31, 2010  Student Artist
Hi from 6DD. We are working alongside #Helping-the-Unknown in getting deviants noticed and appreciated as much as possible.

You are invited to join us and share your deviations with a chance of being featured for outstanding work.

Visit our page: #6-Degrees-Deviants
Reply
:iconfaustscribe:
FaustScribe Featured By Owner Mar 13, 2010  Student Writer
Thank you for the faves, Ben.
Reply
:iconartifice-child:
artifice-child Featured By Owner Dec 22, 2009
and the dAwatch is now mutual.
Reply
:iconsoft-est:
soft-est Featured By Owner Dec 5, 2009
i don't normally say it, but thanks for the fave.
Reply
:iconmaskedfarqueharson:
MaskedFarqueharson Featured By Owner Dec 11, 2009
Your welcome :-)
Reply
:iconvarcolaci:
Varcolaci Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2009
thank you so much for the fav, i really appreciate the support! have a great day! happy halloween :pumpkin:
Reply
:iconsoundslikeuhlessuh:
soundslikeuhlessuh Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2009   Writer
thanks so much for the fav and consistently stopping by to check out my stuff (:
Reply
:iconmaskedfarqueharson:
MaskedFarqueharson Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2009
I do my best :-)
Reply
:iconcatspupil:
Catspupil Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2009
Oh hey, I meant to mention; thanks a million for the favs!
Reply
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