Ben Bonkoske

Poet Without a Pen

Ben Bonkoske

  • I’ve Started a Garden

    I biked 15 miles tonight to Thalia Hall, where I saw one of my favorite Artists – Haley Heynderickx. One doesn’t always have a lot to say when they are all petered out, but with vigorous activity combined with spiritual musical enjoyment, sometimes there is a word or two that one wishes to reflect upon.

    I visited my parents this weekend. About a year ago, I visited them, and there were a few moments of sunlight, peace, and enjoyment – but mostly it was convoluted cynicism, conceit, and criticism. What a difference a year can make. It is so nice when you let the sunshine in. I gave them my amends to them – it only took six years of being in recovery.

    Tonight, I saw some music. I hope to write up a full piece on the experience, but here I will be a little more candid.

    In January of this year, I visited the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. It was the first time as an adult that I felt out of place and not good enough to be where I was, despite whether or not I deserved a seat at the concert.

    I got that same feeling for the first ten minutes at Thalia Hall tonight.

    But then you/I break the ice for no reason besides we all share some unknown commonality. I told a girl that her sweater looked like a baseball (I like baseball!); I saw a friend’s ex-girlfriend who had a hot dog and exclaimed how Chicago it was; I declared that this Haley Heynderickx concert should be a national holiday; a guy asked about my camera.

    And there I stood, us three short men in a row about to listen to the female anthems of the 21st century, and I belonged, for no reason, I did.

    Now a few thoughts walked in and out of my brain during the show.

    The first notion has to do with art…and love…

    I have to be honest – I wrote books and got sober so that girls would like me.

    And thank God I did.

    You get better at something by doing it, regardless of the reason behind it, and lo and behold, if you learn to love something, it will change you. Writing and sobriety have made me such a better person; I don’t know exactly why, but I think the fact that I don’t write short stories and help men who are struggling with addiction recover so that I can get a blowjob is a good start.

    I struggle with women, man. I also think this is a good thing; You want to know why? Because I have such great faith in women (and yes, love). I esteem them so highly and believe there is a girl or a woman, or women out there who are so extraordinary that sometimes I get all nervous. But I write in the belief that their character is valid and important in my own and the human psyche. I just struggle with why I love them so much, I fear them.

    My only hope is that someday I will find some beautiful female incel and we will happily make art, write poems, sing and dance, and have good virtues.

    Oh, and this is a tangent of this reflection. I am also so happy I didn’t pressure my ex-girlfriend(s) into some delusional traditional marriage love story where we got married young, and both would have hated our lives and each other by the time we were thirty. Not because we were wrong for each other, but because I think there are false ideas people can be pressured into believing that can cost them their whole life – and someone else’s.

    I’m really glad I’m getting to live through my twenties on my own. Not because I don’t want someone to be with, but because I know what I want now. When I was younger, I was doing what I thought I was supposed to want to do because I was pressured into doing it for reasons I didn’t even know.

    And I’ll end with this. Haley Heynderickx said that anyone can be an Artist; You don’t need a paintbrush or a guitar. What she said is, “Some of the most beautiful artists are those who make their relationships with others their art.”

    She has a famous song called I Need To Start A Garden (which I sang almost every syllable along with her tonight.)

    I realized that I have started my garden, and my garden is all of my friends.

    I have to tend to them, and yes, perhaps there are too many plants in my house, and weeds, and some that have died from neglect.

    But when me and my father forgave each other somewhere along the road, I realized I was not waiting for life, life was waiting for me. This I know, because it is still here after I left it unattended so many years ago.

    I will be in the garden.

  • Flash Fiction Friday #3

    There is a knock on a door. 

    “Mr. Johnson?”

    “Yes.”

    “It seems that your son has been in an accident.”

    “What happened?”

    “Your boy was hung on a tree.”

    “Oh, dear God. Jesus, no.”

    The man weeps but holds himself up to look the policeman in the eye.

    “Yeah, these parts are getting pretty dangerous. You might want to think about moving.”

  • A Reflection on a Thursday night in November from my office

    I think the last thing the world needs right now is someone else’s opinion on the state of our nation. There may be times in the future when something needs to be said, but today, two days after the election, nobody seemed to want to talk about it in the office.

    The strange thing is that everything “commentary-wise” (podcasts) is outdated if it was made before this Tuesday. I think there is a feeling of “Now what?” Will all of our rights be taken away? Will things get better or oh so much worse? Who knows? I don’t. I’ll just have to hope for the best.

    I think one thing worth mentioning is this: If we just do our best, and live aligned with good morals and values, who is to be against us? Yes, the system is flawed and stacked against people, but true happiness comes from what an individual does with their lives, not by giving in.

    I think it is important to have different opinions in the world, and those who express differences should not be rounded up and silenced, but I also believe in a moral code. My moral code might differ from the average American. But if I have any sense of duty to my country, it is to be an upstanding, kind individual in all that I do and to all that I meet.

    I have been exploring the world of social media lately. It has been…not all that bad. This is because it is challenging some of my old ideas. I am on a platform called Substack – which is essentially Twitter for writers – and I am commenting on all these writer’s posts as though I know what I’m talking about and my shit don’t stink, and you know what is happening?

    1. I am realizing people are not as stupid as I think they are
    2. My thoughts are being challenged

    One of the worst things against my moral code is “contempt prior to investigation.” It is thinking that you know everything about someone or something before you get to know them or see for yourself.

    One of the worst things a person can do (especially on the internet) is make a blanket statement that they believe and are unwilling to listen to any advice or reason about why this belief might be flawed/wrong/challenged. I think that is why many conflicts arise – people not knowing how to listen to each other but instead just reiterating and repeating their initial points.

    Social Media, the internet, Republicans, Bohemians, Rap Music, etc. Although they might not be good for everyone, are not all inherently bad.

    I will mention that I noticed that the past few weeks I’ve been spending a little too much time on YouTube, which has been affecting my sleep schedule, so you want to know what I did? I decided not to watch certain videos that were roping me into a bad cycle.

    It is possible to not let things ruin your life.

    I could also say the same on the other end. I spent almost two years not drinking soda, using social media, smoking, or eating meat. Was I a better person because of it?

    Maybe. But there is more to life than self-improvement. It can ruin you just the same as bad habits can.

    Let’s try not to ruin everyone’s life or let life ruin us.

  • Typewriter Tuesday – The Right to Choose

  • Monday Night Poetry – 11/3/24

Ben Bonkoske is the author of two novels, Spoon in the Road, and Carolina, Colorado, California. He is also the author of two collections of short stories, Ten Zen by Ben, and Eleven Stories for 11:11. He lives in Chicago, where he likes to take walks.

B. A, M.A.T.