Best Ben Poems
There once swam a catfish named Ben
hadn't eaten since who knows when
my worm looked just right,
Ben took a big bite.
No one's seen Ben swim'n since then.
Ben put up a heck of a fight
was thrashing with all of his might
when reeling him in,
that fish seemed to grin,
and spit out my worm just for spite.
Old Ben made one heck of a meal
couldn't help but think how he'd feel
if he'd been the one,
who had battled and won,
from the opposite side of the reel.
The wind laughs softly
The full moon with the stars
In the sky,
As I lie near the fountain
Gazing at the
Exquisite beauty
Of the nature.
It's the charm of the moon
Opens so many thoughts
And dreams.
The moon
Looks like a beautiful
Ballerina
Dancing with the troop of
The professional stars.
Twisting carelessly with the
Elegance of a swan
Through the lilac beauty
Of the spring time.
The sky seems a bandanna.
A dewy freshness
Fills my heart and soul.
How beautiful is the night,
I captivated, enchanted.
Oh! Gealach,
ben reine ny hoie.
_________________________
"Gealach" means......Brightness,
"ben reine ny hoie" means.....Queen of the night.
The language of the Isle of Man.
_________________________
The moon and the moon poetry
in general seems to dispel the
human centredness that we all
suffer from.
Thank you for reading.
Chitta.
I've been a lot of places in this land,
From sea to shining sea.
There's a place in the hills of Arkansas
That means more than them all to me,
A little wildwood church where people meet
To praise the Lord above.
They don't have a lot of money,
But they're rich in a thing called love
You'll see a friendly smile upon each face
The moment you walk in.
They'll make you feel so loved and right at home,
That you'll want to go back again.
They will pour you out a cup of kindness
And hospitality;
Then they'll take you home and feed you,
And they'll treat you like family.
You're always more than welcome;
There's no lock upon the door.
There's preaching and singing and praising the Lord,
And they know what the altar's for.
Don't look for a grand cathedral,
Standing proud and tall;
It’s a humble little church, beside the road,
At Ben Hur Arkansas.
YESHUA BEN DAVID
There was a man named Yeshua Ben David, sent by Heaven, to set free captive souls,
to redeem you and me, to take our stripes, and die upon a tree.
There was a man named Yeshua Ben David
a man he was, and God He is, and forever will He be, our LORD, our Savior, our
Messiah, from the curse of sin He set us free.
There was a man named Yeshua Ben David
who guides us all in Torah's way, whose glory to gaze on we will someday, who took
from us, sin's great weight.
There is a man named Yeshua Ben David
who was, is, and always will be, KING of kings, and LORD of lords, a man, our God
forever more.
Baby Ben is on his way
Mommy's labored
Night and Day
Grammy's worried
OH
Please pray!
For those of you who
lifted prayer
God heard them!
Thank you for
your care
Baby Benjamin is here!
Oh, what a precious
Little dear!!!
After more than thirty hours of pre-labor, which progressed
to a long heavy labor for my precious daughter, Baby Ben
was born about an hour and a half after this prayer posted.
Praising our God and Father for this precious little baby boy
and his beautiful mommy!
"A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but
as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the
anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world." ~ John 16:21 KJV
"Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his
reward." ~ Psalm 127:3 KJV
"Children's children are the crown of old men; and the glory of children are
their fathers." ~ Proverbs 17:6 KJV
“Gertrude please, I require your help,
I seem to be a little stuck!”
With whine and twine, Ben yelped.
“Get me out of this pickle, quick. It is a must!”
“What is it Ben, what can I do!?”
Gertrude could see Ben was tangled and mangled,
He was stuck and could not move,
He was stuck and sitting at a funny angle.
Gertrude could see his arms were crossed and so were his legs,
“I would love to get you out of this mess, it’s dreadful.”
“Please. Please. Please!” Ben begged.
“I would you see, but Ben, you are a pretzel!”
I courted a British lady
Whose name was Sadie O'Grady
She took off her drawers
I exclaimed ‘Oh good lord!’
You sure ain’t no LADY, matey!
Ding dong...,
Bell dings,
From,
Big Ben,
Building!
There was a young poet named Ben
Whose poetry never did win,
Then his talent, I’m told,
Began to take hold,
Now Ben’s awards never end.
Written By John Posey
12/31/12
A new day awakens in a bonnie Scottish Glen
As I await the morning sunshine peeking over the Ben
Standing at the door of my centuries old croft
The wild fern's arise as the rays makes them loft
A calming soothing trickle delights my morning ears
Meandering through purple heathers as it's done for many years
Hooded crows show their presence, then silence in quietness fall
In timid look they perch, as they hear a Golden Eagles call
The baaing of the sheep resonate from down the Glen
Freedom to roam they are in the land of crofting men
Above the sun now shines amidst a sky of Saltire blue
This land of clans and tartans, through my eyes you'll see my view
Upon the grass I sit, as I marvel at my surrounds
And my desire for a maiden, to share my Highland grounds
A mid morning stroll I take to absorb just where I am
I start thinking to myself, "aye I'm one of Alba's sons"
Lover, when you and I began
It seemed our time was endless
I would say that Cassandra had been our prophet of light
We believed what she told us and she lied.
The stars lit up the sky and we gazed at them
Reminders of how tiny we can be.
You and I were larger than the stars
So long as we could look back at them and wonder.
The waves lapped at our ankles
We shrieked and held on to each other.
The salt that burned our eyes as we struggled for sandy shores
Is nothing compared to the tears that sting them now.
You, lover, disconnected me from what I truly am.
And the lights of the sky only force me to realize the lies
And the heartache
And the lack of communication.
The stars will be there tomorrow
And the next day
But I, lover, will not.
And you must go on.
Ben Franklin
Did not like shackling
He freed the slave from slavery
That tested his oath of bravery
6/28/2015
Whilst doing a degree at Aberdeen University,
In marine biology, Ben started to do archery,
Along which shooting which he took to more,
Until the international stage was an open door.
At the age of fifteen a disorder was diagnosed,
Charcot-Marie-Tooth Disease, which disclosed,
Is a hereditary nervous system disorder, feet,
Which causes his foot drop in both of his feet.
He’s an SH1 athlete and joined the British team,
In 2011 when he travelled to Alicante of glean,
And also took part in Mandeville’s Internationals,
To qualify for London’s Paras, made the finals.
Ben did well at the 2015 Shooting World Cup,
Where he finished ninth to make Rio his cup;
He was born on the 19th of February in 1988,
And shoots in the mixed R3-10m prone bate.
A Comrade like Ben
A statesman like Mandela diplomatically
suspended the necessary struggle of opposites,
gummed his fragmented land together with reconciliation….
exploiters to exploited , murderers to martyrs
imperialist to invisibled indigenes
lives in Sandton and councils Bill Clinton
and Naomi Campbell on plush carpets
a sinewy activist, hard as nails, like yourself…
Ben Palmer Louw, always
cajoling
conspiring
criticizing
organising
uprising
forever
beautiful in your pregnant concern
that freedom , dignity and justice
is tangible and beautiful as black skin, kinky hair
is real when a continent’s wealth is fairly shared
is manifested when the state collapses in selfless deeds
old man Nelson turned ninety and is now a teddy
to those who feared the terrorist at forty.
He no longer speak for himself but for his party
and the party is a self-serving affair.
Pity your death at thirty-something
when Nelson started talking to his racist oppressors.
For ten years you and your young militant army
punctured holes in the racist ideology,
marched flames and thunder through townships,
died in your thousands,
stopping with blood and bones
bullets casted for centuries by the fascist
in black holes of greed and fear.
“A shame … but subversion is to blame ”
`` the defenders of law and order loudly exclaimed
“Not good for business”…the moneybags conceded
“ if Soweto bleeds , profit –rates receeds . ”
“Give black chiefs and compradors the garrotte
and stick the small change of capital under their nose .
They will throttle the radical noises at the root ”.
Wounded deeply, your rapid-firing baritone voice
still thundered on battle-fields and in halls,
urging us to destroy mental and wage slavery.
I saw you fight for freedom
the whole scorching way,
every hour of that long bloody apartheid day…
but one night
you leaped ,
proud black brother of mine,
right into the sky…
fist raised high as heaven with a two-hour smile
whispering re-assuringly “Don’t ever give up, gents…
the harder they come , the harder they fall.
See… brothers and sisters…revolution is!
In memory and respect to Ben Palmer Louw (1950-1987)a student leader of 1976 soweto insurrection
His gold teeth glistened in the sun
As ‘Long Ben Avery’ turned
To face his captives, head lowered,
Their providence to learn
For Avery was a pirate bold
Trained in the Kings’ Navy
Who, disillusioned with his lot,
Captained a mutiny
He seized ‘The Fancy’, in Cadiz
An act both rare, and bold
Then set out on the briny sea
In search of ships with gold
He plundered every vessel met
With not one man set free
And soon, his name spread fear and dread
Across the seven seas
For two years, not a ship was safe
As treasure he amassed,
But his biggest booty taken
Would prove to be his last
He sailed down to the Mandab Strait
And other ships did meet
Who chose him as their Admiral,
To raid the India Fleet
The ‘Mogul’s’ flagships, tried to flee
Chased by the pirate fleet
But a brutal, two hour battle,
Ended with their defeat
The pirates tortured those they caught
Without a thought, or care
As they searched on board for treasure
For each, to glean their share
The ‘Mogul’, proffered swift revenge
Hunting the pirates down,
Swearing each villain, had to hang
For crimes against his crown
The pirates scattered, far and wide
To skirt captivity
But most were caught, and hung with rope
Strung from the nearest tree
But Avery, was never found
Or his share of the hoard
It’s rumoured that his crew killed him,
And threw him overboard
No matter what became of him
Or what, was ‘Long Ben’s’ fate
No man’s ever bettered his feat
In history, to date.