sitting front row
showing shoes
legs cross
uncross
showing shoe sole
giving priest
confessor of souls
another cross
a carnal cross
to carry
short skirt
short crotch
low cut
high heels
hurting feet
stiletto heels
stabbing holes
in asphalt
can't stoop down
can't bend over
don't pull it down
pull it up further
what you trying
to hide
everything
already outside
breast outside
belly outside
back outside
backside outside
underwear outside
stop bitching
this posing
this posturing
bad for posture
only fostering
some fascist agenda
some sadist fascist
fashionista
designer
of hate couture
out to make you sick
out to make you suffer
out to make you sick
sick and sexy
out to make us sick
sick and sexy
Copyright ©2010 by G. Newton V. Chance
What is a song if not poetry dressed in melody to sing along? (© G. Newton V. Chance)
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
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- G. NEWTON V. CHANCE
- George Newton Vivian Chance (Trinidad and Tobago) -- member of the Poet Society of Trinidad and Tobago, http://poetssocietytt.blogspot.com/ and the World Poets Society, http://world-poets.blogspot.com/ -- born in Tobago on 3rd March 1957. While residing at Rio Claro was inspired to write over a hundred poems at the turn of the Millennium. Hobbies include playing wind instruments, building computers, observing nature, reading and writing poetry. Believes that the power of a song is in its ability to evoke emotions by the marriage of lyric and music but that music without lyric can be just as powerful, that lyric without music can also be just as powerful, that there is music in the lyric and that lyric can be simple yet profound. Also, in this the age of computers, would like to model his lines after simple and efficient code and, analogous to Object Oriented Programming, achieve most of his imagery from nouns and verbs, avoiding the bloat and excess of unnecessary adjectives. This is what he aspires to attain in his poetry.
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older
than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn
all golden in the sunset.
I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
by Langston Hughes
the poet writes the poem;
the reader gives it life
(© G. Newton V. Chance)
the reader gives it life
(© G. Newton V. Chance)
Make somebody happy (© Alexander Ligertwood & Carlos Santana)
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