“Monsters”
At night:
Children are filled with fear.
”There are monsters in our room!“ They cry real tears.
”They are hiding under our beds!”
“One more story! Don’t leave!” They beg.
The parent gives in.
The story never ends.
This fear is real, it is not pretend.
It‘s a trip to the bathroom, then it’s a drink.
Even if it’s water from the bathroom sink!
Desperate!
”We can’t be alone!”
They swear they can hear the monsters groan.
”Now they’re in the closet! We can hear the door creek.”
As the parent goes to leave, they continue to weep.
Finally, the children fall asleep.
Until tomorrow night, the monsters will be back.
Yes, of couse!
“These monsters will attack!”
During the day their rooms are safe.
But at night?
Their rooms become a monster filled cave!
”They have claws and sharp teeth, they will eat us up!“
Yet, only in the dark.
Or, until they grow up.
By Benz
© 11-3-18
“My F.P.”
My Favorite Person:
That is what I call him. No, he is not my own child. He is the son of one of my siblings.
He is my nephew.
Do I love him more than my own child?
No, I do not.
How is that possible?
Love and favoritism are different.
A teacher will always have a few students that stand out in his or her mind over a teaching career.
Maybe it was the one who tried the hardest, or learned the most. Maybe, it was the most challenging or best behaved.
Nevertheless, it does not mean the teacher ‘loved’ any of these students. Yet, they are or were ‘favorites.’
My point being, just because someone is our favorite does not necessarily mean we love them the most.
People often think love and favoritism are one in the same-
They are not.
This misconception has become so popular, I asked my nephew to “keep it between us” that he is my favorite. I expained to him the reason; similar to the teacher who does not want to hurt the feelings of the other students, I do not want to hurt the feelings of my own child or the rest if his cousins.
“Why am I your favorite?” He asked.
I replied, “because it is you, where I see myself the most. It is you, who inspired me to write my first book and it was you, who taught me how to be an auntie.”
He smiled. I then read to him “Hi IQ.” A piece I wrote for him as he struggled in school. I told him how I shared this write on the prose and how creative people think differently. I then told him that I would ask his parent/my sibling to chooses a different punishment for a ‘not so good’ report card.
“A creative person needs their outlet!” I protested.
“My F.P.” was pleased when his musical instrument was returned.
My sibling took away the video game instead and I began tutoring “My F.P.”
I do love him, second only to my own child...
“Between us.”
By: Benz
©11/4/19
“Elements”
“I am dying.”
Said the Fire.
“I don’t care.”
Said the Water.
“I can’t help you.”
Said the Earth.
“I can!”
Said the Air.
The winds gust lifted the glowing ember back to a roaring flame- powerless was the ground, disappointed was the rain.
“Thank you" said the fire.
“I did it because I love you" said the air.
The fire did not reply...
By: Benz
©10-23-19
“Go”
As the path split in the old dirt road, the runner wept and did as she was told. She knew this day was coming. Still, she kept on running. Her hiding place was very close. 40 or 50 yards at most. She could see the birch tree, finally. Like a ball player sliding into home, she extended her arm with a groan. Her gun, now pointed at him. She whispered “You will never force me to run again.” He lay dead in the leaves. For the first time in years, she could breath.
By: Benz
©8-6-19