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Ben Banda Poems
The Eagle's Flight
For the hunter’s fright, Eagle’s talons command, While the Eagle’s heights abound the flight. For the hunter’s smile, the Eagle’s pasts remind; In Eagle’s might, smiles the hunter’s fright.
A Bitter Kiss
There is a bitter kiss by your mouth, Yet your lips stuck, are tight. There is cruel gentleness by your hips, Yet your nerves still, are numb.
Hand in hand, into the sea, they plunge, Each other, for they addressed Ages ago, in their hearts for their fleshes With the stranger to flee to feel.
To The Widow
To the widow, tolerably the burden is born, To her, freely companies are gained, Seeding on her only lonesome shoulders torn, A desolate empire, she, the anointed.
What Is Joy?
What is joy If the teacher’s cane Comes out of classrooms joyfully Hugging conmen and murderers!
To Swallow The World
Who can the world turn hollow If thirsty, tombs all in fiasco sting? Do mortals dropping mean a thing? If lull to the world on knees, follow,
The Home You Were
Oh love! what our dearest home you were
Pulpit Of Faith
Upon faith’s pulpit, Hope sweetens hearts__ Yet pain winds up in flesh; Vow as lies vow
Chair By Sunset
Chill cringes, the throned one fidgets, Darkness rages and raiders plod by. Around his stars, his stare is flung__ Once, heros now zeros snuffed.
Thirst For Mandela
Oh Dear Mandela! If your soul was an immortal breeze, Tomorrow wobbling in flames Half in darkness gobbled,
The Gender Dragon
In Waltz, she trembles... forevermore; Rid off her thorns, she is in mirth. Here is her dearest dragon dating her, To wed her foot, unto her own path.
They shed blood to kindle gods, Their pornographic gods to shine. But if they withdraw their swords, Behold, gold’s image twinkles.
Deep within her, a sting is hidden, A hidden sting never spoken of, Forever lay in darkness, watching; By the paths lay before others.
Legs! Legs! What are you legs? In streets, legs, legs__
Comments about Ben Banda
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The Eagle's Flight
For the hunter’s fright, Eagle’s talons command,
While the Eagle’s heights abound the flight.
For the hunter’s smile, the Eagle’s pasts remind;
In Eagle’s might, smiles the hunter’s fright.
The Eagle could not; all its commands keep held,
If the Eagle’s hunter too wore some talons,
For its smiles forever come to mock the foe fled,
In scared hunters, since times ago in ages.
For to the mighty Eagle, talons are rewarding,
In the flights high, talons well persevere,
And in the Eagle’s shadows cast, its will to spring
More ladders, the Eagle to shove...