"benton" poems - Hello Poetry

In the hard and cold city There were no Two a.m. train whistles… Sometimes Window rattling hip-hop woofers… The occasional Tequila soaked domestic dispute… and the like… Leaving me now Laying in the darkened silence feeling Vintage… Imaginary whispers of Brook Benton “…feel like it’s rainin all ova the world” Subliminal theme music Setting the ambiance for Trying to think of something Not cliché to say about the Two a.m. train whistle in the distance... Cuz I still Often wake to the Absences of Warbling sirens of high speed chases … and Fusion of passing dialects beneath my window That I never really heard…until I didn’t hear them … Replaced with Fat plops Of nocturnal rain drops… Far away clack-a-lack of iron wheel on rail… Silence… ...and that lonely Two a.m. train whistle in the distance…

0

May 7, 2013

May 7, 2013 at 12:34 PM UTC

carla-marie

Silence and 2 a.m. Train Whistles

In the hard and cold city There were no Two a.m. train whistles… Sometimes Window rattling hip-hop woofers… The occasional Tequila soaked domestic dispute… and the like… Leaving me now Laying in the darkened silence feeling Vintage… Imaginary whispers of Brook Benton “…feel like it’s rainin all ova the world” Subliminal theme music Setting the ambiance for Trying to think of something Not cliché to say about the Two a.m. train whistle in the distance... Cuz I still Often wake to the Absences of Warbling sirens of high speed chases … and Fusion of passing dialects beneath my window That I never really heard…until I didn’t hear them … Replaced with Fat plops Of nocturnal rain drops… Far away clack-a-lack of iron wheel on rail… Silence… ...and that lonely Two a.m. train whistle in the distance…

30

On the seventh day he rested, but Before he did, he selected a little Piece called "Benton", and there's Where he put heaven.

0

Nov 15, 2021

Nov 15, 2021 at 10:46 PM UTC

Elymais

Benton

On the seventh day he rested, but Before he did, he selected a little Piece called "Benton", and there's Where he put heaven.

4

I saw him led across my BLACK AN D WHITE television screen in the rundown city of NEWARK huge shades covered his eyes like black bandages head skyward voice a dynamite musicial roar of sound as RAY CHARLES screamed I GOT A WOMAN WAY OVER TOWN THAT"S GOOD TO ME THAN JAMES BROWN in a shoulder cape danced did a split dropped to his knees and roared PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE and PAPA GOT A BRAND NEW BAG the DRIFTERS took the stage with UNDER THE BOARD WALK JACKIE WILSON ex boxer punched out the tune LONELY TEARDROPSwhile doing another split and throwing his coat or hankerchief to waiting screaming fans DION AND THE BELMONTS told about RUNAROUND SUE SMOKEY ROBINSON AND THE MIRACLES with his high falsetto touched the rafters with TEARS OF A CLOWN the TEMPTATIONS told everybody that would listen that PAPA WAS A ROLLING STONE and I WISH IT WOULD RAIN so that no one will see my teardrops when I go outside BROOK BENTON with his smooth baritone sang about A RAINY NIGHT IN GEOGIA and that ITS JUST A MATTER OF TIME and THE JAGUARS were careful on tiptoe because THE LION SLEEPS TONIGHT ELVIS PRESSLEY wanted to know ARE YOU LONESOME TONIGHT and sang about THE JAILHOUSE ROCK and JERRY LEE LEWIS known as the killer on the stage beat beat the piano like a bad child with elbows feet hands letting us know about there is A WHOLE LOT OF SHAKING GOING ON we ain't faking there's a whole lot of shaking going on

0

Sep 8, 2013

Sep 8, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC

victor-tripp

MY MUSICIAL MEMORIES BY VICTOR TRIPP

I saw him led across my BLACK AN D WHITE television screen in the rundown city of NEWARK huge shades covered his eyes like black bandages head skyward voice a dynamite musicial roar of sound as RAY CHARLES screamed I GOT A WOMAN WAY OVER TOWN THAT"S GOOD TO ME THAN JAMES BROWN in a shoulder cape danced did a split dropped to his knees and roared PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE and PAPA GOT A BRAND NEW BAG the DRIFTERS took the stage with UNDER THE BOARD WALK JACKIE WILSON ex boxer punched out the tune LONELY TEARDROPSwhile doing another split and throwing his coat or hankerchief to waiting screaming fans DION AND THE BELMONTS told about RUNAROUND SUE SMOKEY ROBINSON AND THE MIRACLES with his high falsetto touched the rafters with TEARS OF A CLOWN the TEMPTATIONS told everybody that would listen that PAPA WAS A ROLLING STONE and I WISH IT WOULD RAIN so that no one will see my teardrops when I go outside BROOK BENTON with his smooth baritone sang about A RAINY NIGHT IN GEOGIA and that ITS JUST A MATTER OF TIME and THE JAGUARS were careful on tiptoe because THE LION SLEEPS TONIGHT ELVIS PRESSLEY wanted to know ARE YOU LONESOME TONIGHT and sang about THE JAILHOUSE ROCK and JERRY LEE LEWIS known as the killer on the stage beat beat the piano like a bad child with elbows feet hands letting us know about there is A WHOLE LOT OF SHAKING GOING ON we ain't faking there's a whole lot of shaking going on

1

Devils of saintly virtues? Or a saint of sin? Who is evil or good? Who bestowed such titles? A boisterous ***** baron? Ordained by dour dukes? Spilled blood to pave a road? Does your honor sunder and erode? Was it virtuous to shove innocents? To put them under lock and key? Saintly, to make them fear? Courage, to turn a blind eye? Is it a sin to feed the starving enemy? A devil to help a dying foreigner breath? Bereave their suffering? To feel guilt when malnourished prisoners beg for feed? What makes you so noble? Foible flags, and an adorable mantra? A little training makes it right? Maybe you know it does not, Paving roads with bones and blood? Did you join to fire a gun? To retrieve bullets from inside of someone? To stand for your flag and defend? Does a medal wash away those sins? All forgiven because you won? Bombs dropped and humanity undone, Another chapter in the book of justification, Titled, ‘War is Hell’ The history of death, peace unsung, Souls seized, leaders appeased, From rot, money and disease, Waiting for battle under south side trees, What makes you better then them? Education? A uniform? Signing your life away to conform? What if your not as noble as you seem? Noble intentions in a hellish scene, In total might, what if neither is right? A hired killer of a higher power, Atrocities in the name of swell intentions, Killing for Lord Benton, or General Jenkins, Does what you read make you mad? Or sad? Will war ravished ruffians take pity? Is it wrong if they slaughter and **** your life? Everyone in it? Will your god founded, blessed flag save you? Maybe they are right, After all, You did it to them first, Suddenly it’s wrong? No chalking up to war is hell? Maybe you’re lost, Maybe notches on your gun makes you proud of past, Maybe feel lied to, in a cloud, Or maybe you’re a demonic psychopath, The history of Saints is usually tattered with sin, Passing volatile judgements upon men, Devils usually do what they are asked, Whether or not it should come to pass, After all, It was conflict that caused Edens fall, Do you care if you’re right or wrong? You, mercenary of the flag? When is wrong, right? Right, wrong? Call you hero and sing your song, Will history see it like you? After all, Stonewall made innocent civilians fall, Regarded hero, Instructed by a drunk, Who are you? What makes you so great? Why are you right? Why are you wrong? In the end, I don’t care if you think, Or ask yourself stated questions, That’s not my biz, Simply put... It is what it is..

0

Apr 21, 2019

Apr 21, 2019 at 1:15 PM UTC

HeartofThunder

Of Flags and Foolishness

Devils of saintly virtues? Or a saint of sin? Who is evil or good? Who bestowed such titles? A boisterous ***** baron? Ordained by dour dukes? Spilled blood to pave a road? Does your honor sunder and erode? Was it virtuous to shove innocents? To put them under lock and key? Saintly, to make them fear? Courage, to turn a blind eye? Is it a sin to feed the starving enemy? A devil to help a dying foreigner breath? Bereave their suffering? To feel guilt when malnourished prisoners beg for feed? What makes you so noble? Foible flags, and an adorable mantra? A little training makes it right? Maybe you know it does not, Paving roads with bones and blood? Did you join to fire a gun? To retrieve bullets from inside of someone? To stand for your flag and defend? Does a medal wash away those sins? All forgiven because you won? Bombs dropped and humanity undone, Another chapter in the book of justification, Titled, ‘War is Hell’ The history of death, peace unsung, Souls seized, leaders appeased, From rot, money and disease, Waiting for battle under south side trees, What makes you better then them? Education? A uniform? Signing your life away to conform? What if your not as noble as you seem? Noble intentions in a hellish scene, In total might, what if neither is right? A hired killer of a higher power, Atrocities in the name of swell intentions, Killing for Lord Benton, or General Jenkins, Does what you read make you mad? Or sad? Will war ravished ruffians take pity? Is it wrong if they slaughter and **** your life? Everyone in it? Will your god founded, blessed flag save you? Maybe they are right, After all, You did it to them first, Suddenly it’s wrong? No chalking up to war is hell? Maybe you’re lost, Maybe notches on your gun makes you proud of past, Maybe feel lied to, in a cloud, Or maybe you’re a demonic psychopath, The history of Saints is usually tattered with sin, Passing volatile judgements upon men, Devils usually do what they are asked, Whether or not it should come to pass, After all, It was conflict that caused Edens fall, Do you care if you’re right or wrong? You, mercenary of the flag? When is wrong, right? Right, wrong? Call you hero and sing your song, Will history see it like you? After all, Stonewall made innocent civilians fall, Regarded hero, Instructed by a drunk, Who are you? What makes you so great? Why are you right? Why are you wrong? In the end, I don’t care if you think, Or ask yourself stated questions, That’s not my biz, Simply put... It is what it is..

81

The mocking birds mouth is as still as the tree, The mocking birds mouth is as still as the tree, The mocking birds mouth is as still as the tree, The mocking birds mouth is as still as the tree, I shall be enveloped, intoxicated in it's last words effigy, Transcribed across the tablets of the deserts final plea, It searches for my body The coyote calls my name, The sands ask for me as a trophy They swallow up my grave, The slits of eyes in my wrist and thighs show my life's vision out to sky, it sees the world from the deep inside where I hid it in my skin and my arteries, When you find me dead bury me in the sand, il be a sand angel in 2010, I was never worth consoling, hid from every one I knew, finally at the end you found you hate me too. Guilts too hard to take, it ***** in my soul like a vacuum, guilt beats hate, Benton falls down in the bathroom, The tiles watch him **** on the floor He collapsed then shat and vomited more, whole lives fall in the toilet. too moist as miscarried babies, So bury me in the desert, So the mocking bird can't say ****

0

May 3, 2014

May 3, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC

Lendonpartain

Bad Jesus Dying as The Nazarene

The mocking birds mouth is as still as the tree, The mocking birds mouth is as still as the tree, The mocking birds mouth is as still as the tree, The mocking birds mouth is as still as the tree, I shall be enveloped, intoxicated in it's last words effigy, Transcribed across the tablets of the deserts final plea, It searches for my body The coyote calls my name, The sands ask for me as a trophy They swallow up my grave, The slits of eyes in my wrist and thighs show my life's vision out to sky, it sees the world from the deep inside where I hid it in my skin and my arteries, When you find me dead bury me in the sand, il be a sand angel in 2010, I was never worth consoling, hid from every one I knew, finally at the end you found you hate me too. Guilts too hard to take, it ***** in my soul like a vacuum, guilt beats hate, Benton falls down in the bathroom, The tiles watch him **** on the floor He collapsed then shat and vomited more, whole lives fall in the toilet. too moist as miscarried babies, So bury me in the desert, So the mocking bird can't say ****

15

Standing hear on the wrong side of tracks , on my arm . my living hell addiction . stabbing and searching the needles in vain . in my room I save a spoon a tiny lagoon I used to draw my happiness from . but now it is dry a desert I stepped over my dying corpse to hear crying , the distant voice of my wife and child lonely, lost and alone. Brian Kieth Benton

0

Sep 28, 2016

Sep 28, 2016 at 8:23 PM UTC

brian-keith-benton

*****

Standing hear on the wrong side of tracks , on my arm . my living hell addiction . stabbing and searching the needles in vain . in my room I save a spoon a tiny lagoon I used to draw my happiness from . but now it is dry a desert I stepped over my dying corpse to hear crying , the distant voice of my wife and child lonely, lost and alone. Brian Kieth Benton

9

I embrace my insanity because I'm the only one will . I try to hold on while evil , evil tries to beat down my walls of love , love I try to preserve inside of me , with out it I know I'm dead . Everyone in life who I need , I do meet. Like little blessings that kiss my spirit and inspire me to carry on . As the demons that society hold no to so they can feel good about themselves by belittling kindness and love . why ,why ,why can't they see love can't be bought or sold ,it's free , free like air ,sun and the wind that kisses my face in the morning . By Brian Keith Benton Dedicated to Nicole D.

0

Sep 26, 2016

Sep 26, 2016 at 1:31 PM UTC

brian-keith-benton

Nicole's wind

I embrace my insanity because I'm the only one will . I try to hold on while evil , evil tries to beat down my walls of love , love I try to preserve inside of me , with out it I know I'm dead . Everyone in life who I need , I do meet. Like little blessings that kiss my spirit and inspire me to carry on . As the demons that society hold no to so they can feel good about themselves by belittling kindness and love . why ,why ,why can't they see love can't be bought or sold ,it's free , free like air ,sun and the wind that kisses my face in the morning . By Brian Keith Benton Dedicated to Nicole D.

11

Tree have fallen all around me but they don't make a sound silhouettes of sadness lying All around There's no mirror in the bathroom so I can't see my face just a lonely image trapped inside this place Where did my life where did I go so wrong did the devil made me do it or was I acting all alone Years of laughter Echo loudly in my mind still searching for happiness I can't seem to find Can I tell you a secret, no because if I do it will no longer be one But if all my wrongs were stones I could build a castle In my mind my thoughts continue to wrestle with yesterday's dreams in today's reality of what I have become a lost soul afraid of living or life My body is possessed by demons who are caringly caressing a condemned spirit I look at the world with blurred vision only seeing distorted images of life that's so misunderstood. Brian K. Benton

0

Sep 15, 2016

Sep 15, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC

brian-keith-benton

The Prison in my mind

Tree have fallen all around me but they don't make a sound silhouettes of sadness lying All around There's no mirror in the bathroom so I can't see my face just a lonely image trapped inside this place Where did my life where did I go so wrong did the devil made me do it or was I acting all alone Years of laughter Echo loudly in my mind still searching for happiness I can't seem to find Can I tell you a secret, no because if I do it will no longer be one But if all my wrongs were stones I could build a castle In my mind my thoughts continue to wrestle with yesterday's dreams in today's reality of what I have become a lost soul afraid of living or life My body is possessed by demons who are caringly caressing a condemned spirit I look at the world with blurred vision only seeing distorted images of life that's so misunderstood. Brian K. Benton

12

My derelict soul rolls west, to under the Benton Street Bridge. The bridge is strange and lonely and changed, with Steve and Scott dead. Both of them died on the railroad tracks. The ducks are still there, under the Benton Street Bridge. A feral calico cat stalks them with death and hunger in her eyes. The river's up. Fish jump where me and Carl used to sit and sing old Motown songs. I'm in the nut ward for the umpteenth time. ***** induced madness. Pensive about life; bereft of hope, I wonder: Am I just a lost duck? Maybe I'll ask that slender cat.

0

Feb 27, 2020

Feb 27, 2020 at 4:08 PM UTC

thomas-w-case

Under the Benton Street Bridge

My derelict soul rolls west, to under the Benton Street Bridge. The bridge is strange and lonely and changed, with Steve and Scott dead. Both of them died on the railroad tracks. The ducks are still there, under the Benton Street Bridge. A feral calico cat stalks them with death and hunger in her eyes. The river's up. Fish jump where me and Carl used to sit and sing old Motown songs. I'm in the nut ward for the umpteenth time. ***** induced madness. Pensive about life; bereft of hope, I wonder: Am I just a lost duck? Maybe I'll ask that slender cat.

26

That WORLD no longer exist. Oh, many wish. But that fantasy has long passed by. The colorization of the world have shocked many. Many still lost in Disneyland's vision. Oh, more closely connected to their Leave It To ****** youth. Where others was never shown? Shocked when another vision appears at their home. That WORLD slowly fading in time. Like Brook Benton stated, "It's Just A Matter of Time."

0

Mar 11, 2017

Mar 11, 2017 at 11:30 PM UTC

jeffrey-conyers

That World

That WORLD no longer exist. Oh, many wish. But that fantasy has long passed by. The colorization of the world have shocked many. Many still lost in Disneyland's vision. Oh, more closely connected to their Leave It To ****** youth. Where others was never shown? Shocked when another vision appears at their home. That WORLD slowly fading in time. Like Brook Benton stated, "It's Just A Matter of Time."

10