Ben Lingemann : Writing

Nothing is like the Sound of a Pencil on Paper.

Nothing is like the Sound of a Pencil on Paper.

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


Listen closely and hear our collective vernacular in a state of constant mitosis.Live and see our language begin to rival our own complexity.A myriad ..
Experimental Repetition.

Experimental Repetition.

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


There is no simple sin, even within an ignorant whim.You have an absence of forward thought,I treat this as if- it is an abnormality.Can you, for just..
The Illusion of Individuality.

The Illusion of Individuality.

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


A Mass Inversion.I have lived to witness an Apple become a juggernaut see the followers nod their heads in belief, walking segregated on the streets u..
Unsettling.

Unsettling.

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


My body was found in an autochthonous cranny stinking of death,between the hookers legs; burnedwith a magnesium flash- of the bulb popping.It illumina..
Your Crucifying Absence.

Your Crucifying Absence.

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


I am trying to pick up a thin unforgiving object with my over-sized, disjointed creaking hands- again.Plastered smooth, flatly white and plain, sharpl..
An Opinion: II

An Opinion: II

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


I'm tired of Love lost, of cookie-cutter me missing you and all of the ridiculous rhymes that ensue. More and more I am fed up, plainly sick of inflat..
An Opinion: I

An Opinion: I

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


What can an individual know of drugs? While transcending only able to look in on the Id of themselves and not the out of said mental health. Sunken an..
The Inevitability of Human Incongruity: an epitaph to a Lifelike Effigy.

The Inevitability of Human Incongruity: an epitaph..

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


a drugstore pallid in waning light, always illuminated in halogen halos.I am earless with music. Black metal loud in clanging sets and blows-foreshado..
Stripping More Than Just Significance by the Repetition of a Word.

Stripping More Than Just Significance by the Repet..

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


You subtly strum soft passionate symphonies of pathosand are wordless in casual relapseto canals of bliss and carnal bane-Schisms of cannibalism eat a..
Word Magnets.

Word Magnets.

A Poem by Ben Lingemann


My frantic worship of winter is bitter.His ache was gone in a moment,you use the knife and incubate a symphony.We the ugly rust run madalways beneath ..