Works by Ben Balazs

I would sum it up best, If by some unrest, I declare upon the soul whose door, Would wash its brazen key ashore, That it was meant to be lost at sea. I would often confess, But with the faintest of jests, Toward a sullen man so bare, Whose skin by fear shone fair, That it was simply not meant to be. And his tears would float adrift, Upon the waves, quite often swift, To flee from mind of fool afoot, In sand that sunk what faith he put, Toward eager life of wealth and glee. So be it God, so come what may, Of anchors hung from necks aflayed, So shall I drown into the deep, Of sweet and dark and silent sleep, At last the sea has come for me.

Today was the first day that I chose to sit in the shade. I'd gotten so used to having the sun on me that the darker side of things felt eerily cold. Though it was far from winter, I felt deeply shaken and unsettled, uprooted from comfort. The pillars around me provided stripes of cover much like trees in a forest. Above me was a canopy that these pillars held up, and tiny beams of sunlight peaked through to reach me. I chose to be patient today. I chose not to rush from building to building, from class to class, from failure to success, from expense to investment. I decided to take a moment and breathe - survey my surroundings. When I stopped and looked, under the wings of a shadowy sanctuary, I noticed the hundreds of people who bolted from Point-A to Point-C. I could hear the marching of their shoes, heels, slippers, and flats, all working in unison toward a cause unknown. I saw human beings swallowed up by piles of brick and concrete, only to later be regurgitated with newf...

The weather was as fine as fine got, peering out from under its covers and baring its pearly white teeth. The city was abuzz once more, with passerby of many kinds making their way to this store and that. I could hear the soft whirr of engines as they zipped from block to block, eager to reach their destinations in a punctual manner. Those cryophilic few who used to hang around these parts have since tapered off to colder places unknown, and have left piles of melting snow in their place. Every brutal December morning was worth sitting through to see a beautiful day like today. The very idea of thinking to peel off my layers brought a devious grin to my face, as if I'd be committing the crime of public indecency. What shame had I left? I let my cane cozy up against my thigh this time around, knowing full well that its metal case wasn't cold enough to make me uncomfortable. I unzipped my leather jacket and hung my arms over the spine of the bench beneath me. The air felt so fr...

Light peered modestly through the blinds. It dazzled and brightened her face with a uniquely calm radiance. Each stroke of the brush in her hands took one less flaw away from her. Some of the hairs that fell to her feet shimmered for an instant or so, barely catching the light-beams crossing the room. She never really applied much force in grooming her hair. The strands were always so straight, so linear that they seemed geometric - artificial.  Facing her, in its all-encompassing size, was a mirror equally as effervescent as she. It imitated her bronze skin with nearly impeccable detail. She stood so still that the mirror acted almost as a photograph, frozen in the moment of her gentle preparation for the day. The blinds tugged at the image, sheepishly traipsing behind it. Perhaps the woman’s beauty intimidated them. The glass of the mirror was thick enough to stifle any noise coming from outside. Regardless, there were only several inches of it that separated her from the re...

He dreaded the sensation of the harshly cold granite beneath his bare feet. Each step sent waves of goosebumps up his legs and over his arms. Of course, to his dismay, this rabid cold was caused by a nearby ajar window. The wind out there must have bellowed with enough attitude to shove it's way past what was an arguably useless guard from the night air. The frame of the sill was rickety, and made small tapping noises whenever the wind came to wave hello. It buckled under any simple tease of the weather. It should have been replaced years ago, but it was as old as the house it came with, bearing the wrinkles of time and maltreatment. The many owners of this house who have come and gone did not show much compassion to this brooding pile of wood he called home. The windows locking mechanism was pockmarked from numerous aggressive shuttings and openings. That might explain why the damn thing won't stay shut. He toppled over it, still drunk from the sleep he was enjoying only momen...

Nothing felt quite as satisfying to him as emptying his pockets after a long evening. From his lint-filled pants appeared a bulky wallet, fuller of change than cash, a set of car keys, some chap-stick, and a receipt he didn’t even remember having at any point that day. It seemed strange to him that only hours ago he was having the time of his life, laughing and cheering his friends on as they improv’d their way through a maniacal scene. He could feel the alcohol drifting out of his system, his vision focusing ever so slightly upon the suddenly very comfortable bed that awaited him. He smirked at the fact that pillows looked deceivingly plusher, and blankets more welcoming when the day prior was particularly shitty. He played the image of him sinking into his bed frame over and over again in his head, but in reality was just staring at it longingly. It looked to him like a woman out of his league.  His bed-side fan whirred uncomfortably, chucking more dust than air around him. ...