Clothed In Flesh


Subterranean as moles
Senses a-twitching, yes
A juicy meal discerned
So, alive a while longer

Underwater divers, we
Cut adrift (sans scuba)
Need break the surface
Lest we quickly drown

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on August 24, 2014, in Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 8 Comments.

  1. makes me feel at home
    in my internal sea 🙂


  2. Going where we don’t belong. Explore/destroy.


  3. Ben, I love this. There are times when it seems we’ve had enough, and we long to break through that surface at last. Ah, but then we realize – a few more lessons to go, just a little longer in this underwater/underground school of corporeality. Great metaphor!


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