Ben Bonkoske

Poet Without a Pen

Ben Bonkoske

  • Monday Night Poetry #15

    I fell in love with winter

    She was cool

    Winter warms my soul

    Like a bowl of soup

    Once there was a young love

    Between two birds

    That lasted the winter

    -B.B

    Happy spring everybody

  • violation

    Today, things were quiet. I underestimate how many people are rooting for me. There would be no path to walk without them by my side. This is all for someone. I hope that I haven’t even met them yet; I hope. For as quiet the solitude permits, it doesn’t change a relentless schedule and to-do list. I’m tired of always going over the old. I suppose having so many people to thank is not bad. But first, the things to be thankful for! Soon there will be new things to write about.

  • vacation?

    I can’t tell if i’ve already written about “being on vacation.” It is funny, or sad, whichever you choose, that when I write something that is meant to be funny, it sounds hurtful upon second glance, and when I write something intended to be taken seriously, all I hear is people laughing. I’m glad to hear about all these young kids writing books of poetry and novels. It makes me happy to know A. They still got it in em’ B. That reading and writing may not be a dead medium yet. My world ended a few days ago. Headline: my Plan A was crushed. I overslept to get over it, but once I gathered the will to live, I remembered that it was just an insignificant bummer. Life goes on. I wasn’t ready for pre-prime time writing anyways. Even I know I’m not at that point yet, so I don’t know why I thought I could trick a bunch of people who do it professionally that I had my place in those writer’s workshops. Technically, I’ve only heard back from 5 of the 10 schools I applied to, but I have very low expectations, which is better than high expectations because then you aren’t so disappointed all the damn time(That is from Diary of a Wimpy Kid – one of the first books that made me LOVE reading). I don’t think there is much that is more enjoyable than watching yourself turn the pages, make progress, and get towards the climax of those little books. I am back in the frame of mind where I know I have too much to do to relax. It was such an awful feeling smoking those cigs, because very very quickly, I felt like I had nothing to do. If I never feel that way again it will be too soon. I’m moving on. I suppose it is not wise to burn old bridges. I think I wrote something along the lines of, I can’t be living my life for someone else. I felt like I was in a fight with someone I wasn’t even dating. At the end of the day, it just really made me feel insufficient. I don’t need that. I’m sure I sounded hurtful and made her cry, but I don’t know why. You should know something if you are in love with someone. Besides, and I never thought I say this, but I’m in love with my work. Now, if I could only get a job.

  • Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk – Book Review/Synopsis

    First off, if you haven’t seen the movie, this is a very very very rare instance where the film surpasses the novel in my opinion. However, Chuck Palahniuk’s debut novel Fight Club will go down as one of my all-time favorites. It is a very sardonic black satire that pokes holes in societal norms and expectations. Fight Club is a cult classic similar to Harry Potter that has a niche place in literary and film history.

    Chuck Palahniuk describes his work as transgressional fiction. The genre of transgressive fiction is about characters who stray from the expectations and norms of society in unusual or illicit ways. I think what stands out most in my mind is the distinct style of the book and the tone of the narrator. It is dark. DARK dark. My favorite line in the book is about how the female interest Marla Singer wants to have Tyler Durden’s abortion. Somehow Palahniuk is able to elevate the macabre into sarcastic humor. Its narration reminds me of A Clockwork Orange – another ATF.

    What this story does well is build characters. Occasionally, I couldn’t imagine the settings of the story but that is a small infraction for the otherwise brilliant story. Each character is introduced one by one. The best part is, there are only five characters in the whole story, so they are very well flesh-out, rounded, and unique. Tyler Durden steals the show with his iconic rambling on how insignificant all of us are and how we should renounce all materialism. It almost feels like he is talking directly to the reader and trying to evoke a response. Hell, it worked!

    Synopsis: (Spoiler)

    Fight Club is about an unnamed narrator who experiences insomnia. In order to alleviate this, he attends support groups. He is not really dying like the people in the groups. There he meets Marla Singer, who is also faking being terminal. When he finds out that she is faking, the groups no longer help his insomnia. Suspiciously, his apartment is blown up. He asks to stay with someone he met while traveling named Tyler Durden. Together, they start fight club. Slowly, the group becomes more intense and radical, and eventually, things get out of control, revealing that Tyler Durden is the narrator’s alter ego.

    Final thoughts:

    I think what the film did was take what Chuck Palahniuk was trying to accomplish and make it better. Personally, I think it is very ambitious and clever for a first novel. Although it was a little in-your-face at times which was intentional, and its style was not my ultimate preference, it was very effective at getting its point across and building a world. I look forward to reading it again in my thirties during an existential crisis.

    Book 85/100

    Film: 95/100

  • validation

    I can handle rejection, but I can’t always believe it. My problem is a lot of little problems that build up to a severe inconsistency, unreliability, or a flat-out joke. I only started taking myself seriously in that serious way where I can properly judge my endeavor with the doubt that comes from pursuance this past year. Before that, it was blissful ignorance. I wasted a year doing what I love. I’m ready to go home. The tears over the years have gone stale. My heart beats for something obviously unobtainable. I got rejected dude. My worst case scenario didn’t work out so I’m left with the joke that my best-case scenario will work out, or to just go KLABLAMO. I practice karate in the mirror when I’m feeling strong-willed. It happens, but not enough to be appreciated or praised in the prideful way I do so often. I have the feeling that so much stress is flooding my brain I can’t think clearly. I’m having a silent mental meltdown. Global warming. There are too many unique snowflakes. There are always so many things to blame but I never conclude that maybe I’m just not good at what I want to do. I can’t give up. Not because I have gone this far, but because I have nothing to go back to. I am so unhappily young. I used to always want to go back to a simpler time. Now, I just want to discover all the fucked-up conflicts and tribulations that occur later in life so I can write about them. So I can die over them. One more learning experience. I need to start getting up earlier. For her sake, for my sake. I think I can’t think straight without 10 hours of sleep. No lifestyle besides unemployment is going to accommodate that laziness. I’m trying really really hard. It is too late to look at old loves and past lives. Tear them apart and dissect them like exposed organs. Yes, nothing has changed, I feel the same about it all. I put people on pedestals and am surprised when I’m disappointed. Including you, God.

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.