Best Benson Poems


Premium Member The Stanzas By the Sea

I

when the world had no headsets
the sunbathing crowd
fell asleep to the sounds of
transistors played loud
while the deckchairs and windbreaks
kites, beach balls and more
formed the stripes, lines and circles
that painted the shore
and the longer I walked
on the sand to that sea
the more the sea seemed
to get further from me
and the crunch in my mouth
was that one grain of sand
in the sandwich I ate 
with my sand covered hand
while the lemons and melons
and plums I'd watch spin
would stop short of a cherry
one click from a win
and the postcards we sent
from the end of the pier
had us writing such half truths
as "wish you were here."


II

from the end of the pier
through the stiff breeze
and spindrift
I can still hear the tunes
of the promenade bands

and I can still see the stripes
of the deckchairs and windbreaks
and the box kites
and beach balls
that painted the shore

and I can still taste
the butter
 - warm like the canned ham
and the crunch of that sand
in the sandwich I had

and I can still hear the djs
laughing and talking
spinning hits of the sixties
from transistors
played loud

and I can still smell the onions
frying wild in the fairground
to the sound of the claxons
and the lemon. click. orange. click. melon.
click. click.

and I can still breathe the deep smoke
swirling in sand dunes
from the benson and hedges
and 
player's no.6

and I can still see those grown ups
staring at mirrors
 - their bodies distorted
like the dreams
they once had

today on the pier
the rain that's now falling
falls from a same sky
on a same sand
and same sea
 
and a same me

 - yet this air

this air
is not the same air
as that air I
once 
breathed.
Categories: benson, beach, england, holiday, memory,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Mournful Harp

As I lie amongst wildflowers
beneath the butterfly weeds,
you pondered, through my mind
as you often do,

delicately fragile
essence bursting free
eccentric, dazzling colours
deteriorating, slight physique ~

weakening petals withered
mournful harps serenade,
sensing your soul has departed
in sorrow, I feel your peace

as I lie amongst wildflowers,
beneath the butterfly weeds
you pondered through my heart
as you often do


A tribute to Emmalene Benson, forever beautiful. RIP
Categories: benson, beautiful, best friend, butterfly,
Form: Free verse

Abstracts Are Never Absolute

He deems the ways and dares to understand,		
a measure of a love that went astray,
from libelled forces, which compelled his hand,		
to lies, and morals left to slow decay.

No one forgo or risk refute her right, 
a stubborn choice is seldom steered by sense.
To cease callow mishaps from leaving blight	.
sound case to aid her act of self-defence.

Yet, who can purge despair from a man’s soul,
who boldly baulked against such mortal deed?
His choice dismissed as outside his control,
no matter pleading creed, indeed, his breed.

Such anguish will forever convolute
because abstracts are never absolute.

06.27.21

You are free to choose, but you are not free to alter the consequences of your decision
 – Ezra Taft Benson (politician)
Categories: benson, abortion, anxiety, lost love,
Form: Sonnet

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Writing

WRITING

when other souls
are conceiving
in their dreams 
my breath 
gives birth 
at midnight

my soul
only knows 
to labour
to push 
to birth
alone

~ Eshe Benson
Categories: benson, dream, inspiration, life, poems,
Form: Free verse

Like Mother Hen

"Love me when I least deserve it, because that's when I really need it"
Swedish Proverbs

All the while I went my way
Hot hostility halt my been gay
Anger defiled my melodious voice
Frightened love, fled far from been mine
Each dawn grew my melancholy phase
Still you cared, it made me amazed
Each of thy smiles slightly faded my repugnant scowl
It a little, shamed by burning anger
My heart pictured if thy world was true
I began to believe for I was always at rest with you
Many a time I would have gone back
But amidst my distressing scowl,
Mama smiled like my scowl was a charming smile
Felicitations of envy I'd give to men
But you were ever gentle and patient 
An insolent child is not thrown away, I'd
Hear her say
Just before hate could ruined me
You gave me reason to believe love is true  
Slow ridding years mended my heart
Your incessant warmth refined me
Your warm embrace taught me the 
Way of love; comforting, reassuring 
Ever patient and forgiving
You showed me the beauty of love
Now the world is a mirror
When I smile they smile bright too
You are the constant sky in my life
I love you mama


For the contest “The Right Time” written by Ingibo Benson
Fourth July 2011
Categories: benson, motherme, world, love, me,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member Mountain Forecast

Today Mount Benson is covered in snow.
Down here, below, we have none.
It's a sign of Winter, this we know,
in spite of today's bright sun.

We look to the mountain for a sign
of what to expect, too soon.
Even though, today, the weather is fine,
tomorrow we'll sing Winter's tune.

If the snow is at the halfway mark
we really have nothing to fear
but when the whole mountain is white, not dark,
our turn for a snowfall is near.

The mountain is our weathervane, true,
and here comes a snowflake, as if on cue.


24/11/2015
Categories: benson, mountains, weather, winter,
Form: Sonnet


Premium Member The Greasy Spoon

several formica red tables
glass shakers of pepper and salt
big plastic tomatoes I wanted to squeeze
and shaped bottles of sarson’s own malt.

netting on all of the windows
scratch marks from chairs on the floor
ashtrays with notches to rest cigarettes
and 'open' and 'closed' on the door.

menus upright in a v-shape
the 'royals' adorning the wall
food through the fog of benson & hedges
with no one complaining at all.

my past was a foreign country
before chains, regulations and brunch
places I knew from those misty-eyed times
are no more and have all 'gone for lunch'.
Categories: benson, appreciation, change, england, food,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Song Sung To Her Dying Husband

I was on YouTube listening to the many artists that have sung Bob Dylon's song
To Make You Feel My Love. I love listening to the different versions of it sung.
 When I saw an artist with a large following I never heard of. His name was Teddy Swims. He performs the song on his Podcast video under his name on Youtube. So if you go to YouTube and type in, Make you feel my love, Teddy Swims, you will hear the song and possibly see this comment that touched me deeply while I heard the song. I recommend listening to the song first and then reading Amanda Benson's comment after hearing the song by Teddy Swims. You have to hear the song before reading her comment below, or play the song while reading. This was so touching I had to share.


After hearing the song To Make You Feel My Love, written by Bob Dylan, performed by Teddy Swims...

Amanda Benson wrote this comment to Teddy Swims in the comment section.
She wrote " My absolute favorite. Sang this to my husband as he passed in the
ICU. Holding his hand, to his last breath. Thank you Teddy, I will always love you. Love Baby."

Amanda, your loving words 
touched me so.
As I read your comment, 
to the song below.
Words from Make You Feel
My Love, you sang.
To your loving Husband, as his
journey began.
Such pain you felt, inside to hold.
Will live forever, in this story told.



Dedicated to Amanda's love for her late husband.
 
 
 Michael Tor
Categories: benson, loss, love,
Form: Narrative

The Widow's Mite ~ Weston

Weston worked and worried
from sun up till sundown
for the freed-man knew the reason
that Pap had gone to town.

Pap had loved his family
but now that Ma was gone
Pap had said to Weston
"I can't do this alone."

Pap had hitched the wagon
and said "I've got to ride"
" But I'll be back this evening
with Leatha by my side.."

The young uns worried Weston
as they picked and teased all day
No matter how they nagged him
not a word did Weston say..

Pappy loved his Leatha
She worked right by his side
she proved herself a help-mate
not just an Old Man's bride.

Weston held each baby
As if they were his own
and all too soon for Leatha
God called Pappy home

The Young uns said to Leatha
we will give you land
some lumber for a two room shack
a mule and Pappy's Hand.

the Child bride was a widow
she had no will to fight
Weston was a freed-man
who became the widow's mite.

Weston spoke to Leatha
as the sun rose on the day
"Get yo babies Mammy
and lets be on our way"

Side by side they worked the land
a forty acre sprawl
they watched the sons grow in to men
straight and strong and Tall.

They called him Uncle Weston
their  Pap had set him free
But he stayed to help their mammy
and hold them on his knee.

Crony; Benson; Dorris
and baby Elloree
all loved their uncle Weston
and now we come to me..

Weston died one Sunday
I  now live on the land
where Mammy came with babies
and one old wrinkled hand.

They say Old Weston walks here
Him and his Mule Belle
They plow and plant the acres
and see that we are well..

I never saw a spirit
but sometimes late at night
I here the mules bell jingle
I see a lanterns Light..

Uncle Weston was a freed man
His skin as black as Night
But  Mammy was a widow
and he was mammy's Might!
Categories: benson, adventure, black african american,
Form: Free verse

To My Late Grandma

In the telling told, the stories unfold
Of days long faded, in history's hold
Grandma, your presence, a memory gold
In our hearts engraved, for times untold

In Leteng's remnants, your essence we find
Folded carefully in our minds
Each tale, a treasure, to keep and bind
A legacy of love, forever entwined

We yearn to meet you in the beyond
Where black linings fade, and souls respond
United in spirit, by Modimo's bond
Together again, in peace we abscond

With fathers gone, we carry on
Through trials faced and battles won
Progress made, under the sun
Guided by love, our journey begun

Lefedile, Gabobintshiwe, and Uncle Benson
Their spirits soar, their legacy unbroken
Rest peacefully, in realms unspoken
Their light shines on, a token

Mogo stands tall, a man of might
Oree and I, embracing the light
Through storm and strife, we unite
Beneath dark clouds, seeking insight

The twins, now women, radiant and true
Mum's illness conquered, her strength renewed
Obiditswe and family, a bond so true
Together we stand, in love we grew

So much left unsaid, in the afterlife we'll talk
No barriers to keep us apart or block
Nightmares fade, as we embark
On a journey of reunion, in the eternal clock

We miss you, grandma, our hearts aflame
In the tapestry of life, you remain
A guiding light, in joy and pain
Until we meet again, we'll whisper your name
Categories: benson, death, family, feelings,
Form:

Benson Drew

Through the Pit's mouth she saw it-
Inert body prostate, lightly lit
the pale face staring up, hollow eyes
the cold waters, the mud, the mice.

Through the pit's mouth, she gaped down
Her heart about to be listed afar,
In the fate of the quiet traveller.

O Benson Drew! O Miss Drew!
If only she knew-
There pours the tears and anguish
Here escapes insanity and gibberish.

Watch her! watch her! Watch...
Reach out! Catch her! Catch...
But Alas, she drops ten feet below
For the arms of the fallen Moor.
© NGT NGT  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: benson, cry, death, loss, lost,
Form: Elegy

Premium Member Violence - the Shot Heard Round the World

V-   iolence found in the hand of one who claims
“I-  must be god!”
O-  watch your back when you think you can attack the
L-   iving God. 
E-   veryone will bend. You drop to your knees, loudly weeping.
N-   ettles of your own making. Would that you 
C-   all out to Jesus, who can free you from
E-   ternal damnation. This is a clear warning. Change direction.

10/26/2021

And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force. Matthew 11:12 NKJV

Benson commentary from biblehub.com:
The spirits of men are so excited and animated by a desire after this kingdom, that it is, as it were, attacked like a besieged city, men of all sorts pressing to get into it, with a violence like that of men who are taking a place by storm. As if he had said, “Multitudes are flocking around me, to be instructed in the nature of my kingdom; and some, who were formerly of most licentious characters, and looked upon as utterly unfit to be subjects of the Messiah’s kingdom, are resolutely set on enjoying the blessings of it.”
Categories: benson, death,
Form: Acrostic

Premium Member The Edge of Love's Steep Cliff

the edge of love’s steep cliff

Love is
all we hoped 
it would be
promise of a wish for us

But lover
here we are
flying high 
love's no more an empty dream

So kiss me with your sweet lips
don’t let this love slip by
sweetheart
we are a pair
of friends
who fallen over the edge of love’s steep cliff


My dear heart
you would say
all was gone
you’re too old to care again

But lover
look at us
we can fly
just took dawn to make us see

So kiss me with your sweet lips
don’t let this love slip by
and lover
we are a pair
of friends
who fallen over the edge of love’s steep cliff
who fallen over the edge of love’s steep cliff
who fallen over the edge of love’s steep cliff

To the tune of "Star of the Story" by George Benson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0c_MbhIMJ4

8/26/16
Categories: benson, age, love, song,
Form: Lyric

Leave It Cleaner

"Leave it cleaner than you found it;"
Do not be too high for a minial task.
Those above you may come around it
And curse a praise, then, amazingly ask,

"Did you perform this excellent work?"
"Are you the one behind it all?"
"Would you like a position that others shirk?"

Just you be ready to answer the call...

And "leave it cleaner than you found it."
Do not act too high for a minial task.
Though all your peers may come around it
With curses behind white teeth to ask,

"Why are you doing more than the work?"
"There is no need to do much at all!"
"They care not for us, so this we shirk."

Just you stay ready- they will miss the call...


(Dedicated to Lee Benson, Professor of Art)
Categories: benson, workmay,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

Premium Member The Portrait

~In placid thought her beauty lies in wait
for what the future holds in dormant trust.
Such youth a squander, time cares not her fate
for loveliness displayed is merely dust.
  In pomp attire, to woo a fancy’s eye,
embellished with the floral gifts of spring,
the pigments fade beneath the azure sky
portrayed upon the hills where swallows sing.
  Though she will be adored but never see
this suitor without hope for love so sweet,
her aura beckons, posed eternally,
and ever will I hope her heart to beat.
  A graceful brush strokes beauty into art
      but never will it paint a beating heart.


Portrait: Margaret "gretchen" Strong
             by Frank Benson

1-7-2023
Categories: benson, angst, beauty,
Form: Sonnet
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