Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou Pretty women wonder
Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them They say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Now you understand Just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing It ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need of my care, 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.
All the World's a Stage by William Shakespeare All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
I know why the caged bird sings by Maya Angelou A free bird leaps on the back Of the wind and floats downstream Till the current ends and dips his wing In the orange suns rays And dares to claim the sky. But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage Can seldom see through his bars of rage His wings are clipped and his feet are tied So he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with a fearful trill Of things unknown but longed for still And his tune is heard on the distant hill for The caged bird sings of freedom. The free bird thinks of another breeze And the trade winds soft through The sighing trees And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright Lawn and he names the sky his own. But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream His wings are clipped and his feet are tied So he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with A fearful trill of things unknown But longed for still and his Tune is heard on the distant hill For the caged bird sings of freedom.
Dancer by Carl Sandburg THE LADY in red, she in the chile con carne red, Brilliant as the shine of a pepper crimson in the summer sun, She behind a false-face, the much sought-after dancer, the most sought-after dancer of all in this masquerade, The lady in red sox and red hat, ankles of willow, crimson arrow amidst the Spanish clashes of music, I sit in a corner watching her dance first with one man and then another.
The Lost Dancer by Jean Toomer Spatial depths of being survive The birth to death recurrences Of feet dancing on earth of sand; Vibrations of the dance survive The sand; the sand, elect, survives The dancer. He can find no source Of magic adequate to bind The sand upon his feet, his feet Upon his dance, his dance upon The diamond body of his being.
People Who Live by Erica Jong People who live by the sea understand eternity. They copy the curves of the waves, their hearts beat with the tides, & the saltiness of their blood corresponds with the sea. They know that the house of flesh is only a sandcastle built on the shore, that skin breaks under the waves like sand under the soles of the first walker on the beach when the tide recedes. Each of us walks there once, watching the bubbles rise up through the sand like ascending souls, tracing the line of the foam, drawing our index fingers along the horizon pointing home.
To The Sad Moon by Sir Philip Sidney With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What! May it be that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case: I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries. Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me, Is constant love deemed there but want of wit? Are beauties there as proud as here they be? Do they above love to be loved, and yet Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess? Do they call 'virtue' there— ungratefulness?
How happy is the little Stone by Emily Dickinson How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn't care about Careers And Exigencies never fears -Whose Coat of elemental Brown A passing Universe put on, And independent as the Sun Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute Decree In casual simplicity.
World's Dance Stage World's a huge Dancing stage Let's play some music And dance in rhythm. Exciting dances From all directions From east to west And north to south. Classical and modern Religious and ethnic And folk dances From all the countries. Ballet or rock Rumba or tango Kathak or bhangra Let's try them all. Let's imitate nature In all its grace Like clouds moving On peaks of mountains Like leaves dancing With blow of the breeze Like waves dancing To reach the shore Let's dance in rhythm With nature's swing. Dance's energy Dance's vigor Dance's vibrant Flow of emotion Dance's art Body, the instrument Let's dance together To show our happiness And express our joy On world's stage. Tirupathi Chandrupatla
Dance, My Little Puppets dance, my little puppets dance for me dance, my little puppets and you shall see dance, my little puppets the truth you seek dance, my little puppets the truth i will speak dance, my little puppets set your soul free dance, my little puppets dance for me dance, my little puppets the truth you find dance, my little puppets do not hide dance, my little puppets dance for me dance, my little puppets truth is a lie, cant you see dance, my little puppets dance for me dance, my little puppets dance to see dance, my little puppets start to begin dance, my little puppets this is the end sandy nobody Sandy Nobody
Hip Hop Gave Her I never knew the feeling hip hop gave her, she was on the brink of death but it saved her. 80's baby this hip hop raised her the art of expressing the mind that's what made her. She wore a hat to the back baggy jeans black back pack eyes like Isis soul priceless. She inspired me and so I write this it might just rise up her lifeless soul I'm just, head over heels for this priceless diamond, whenever she was down hip hop brought her mind up. In an open mic club you might find her, freestyles and spoken word poetry drives her. She kept her hand in the air she was live plus shy no man dedicated to the flow I, knew she was gifted she lifted my pride when she said her rhyme, it's what hip hop gave her. I never knew the feeling hip hop gave her. She's the type to cypher with 3 guys, driven by the Queen Lah past molds a mean eye. Father kept her down but her mother told her dream high so she rocks a-di-da shell toes to be fly. She's the one to get you up on Eric B. and Rah, the only thing she knew was be an emcee or die. On the phone tone speaking frequently till I fell asleep in the morning I'm like, "lil G I tried" She replies with a gleam in her eyes, like I see you as the king in my life. I'm like. . . girl you like a sister to me, a best friend I can kiss on the cheek. Right then I think her heart took time out to rewind my words then she cried her eyes out. I never knew that hip hop gave her me the same day I heard a dj break beats. Since day 1 we grew on each other became a team, last year cancer overcame and changed her. Now she lives where the angels hang at, she misses me when she cries, she gives me Rain back. Since then I haven't been the same cat, now I know where hip hop's made at. Now I know what hip hop gave her, it gave her me. Bakari Wright
Dancing the Dream Consciousness expresses itself through creation. This world we live in is the dance of the creator. Dancers come and go in the twinkling of an eye but the dance lives on. On many an occasion when I'm dancing, I've felt touched by something sacred. In those moments, I've felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists. I become the stars and the moon. I become the lover and the beloved. I become the victor and the vanquished. I become the master and the slave. I become the singer and the song. I become the knower and the known. I keep on dancing and then, it is the eternal dance of creation. The creator and creation merge into one wholeness of joy. I keep on dancing and dancing. . . and dancing, until there is only. . . the dance. Michael Jackson
Ecstacy I was born to never die To live in bliss, to never cry To speak the truth and never lie To share my love without a sigh To stretch my arms without a tie This is my dance, this is my high It's not a secret, can't you see Why can't we all live in ecstacy Ecstacy Why can't we all Live in Ecstacy. Without a guilt, without regret I am here to forget Tainted memories of imagined sin In every friend, kith and kin We have come to celebrate here The getting rid of every fear Of every notion, every seed Of any separation, caste, or creed. Feeling free, let us fly Into the boundless, beyond the sky For we were born to never die To live in bliss, to never cry To speak the truth and never lie To share our love without a sign To stretch our arms without a tie This is our dance, this is our high It's not a secret, can't you see Why can't we all live in ecstacy Ecstacy Why can't we all Live in Ecstacy. Michael Jackson This alienation, fragmentation, abomination Of separation, exploitation, isolation This cruelty, hysteria, absolute madness This anger, anxiety, overflowing sadness Disrupted ecology, wanton destruction Diseased biology, nature's obstruction Endangered species, environmental pollution Holes in the ozone, defying solution Is not knowing the spark that lights my interior Is the same fire, glowing in every man, child, and mother superior
When I dance for me, Silent vibrations from within Rhythm of the unseen, I dance for me. My steps follow their direction, My heart-beat echoes their sound. Some say I dance weird: they call me possessed. If I dance raw, if I dance pure, If I dance whirlwind, if I dance the spirits within, No matter what they say, I know I dance me. I dance for me. © 2001 Akachukwu Chukwuemeka
Title: Joy! By: Sue Hodson From: Rustenburg, South Africa Dance, flowing from within Exploding up and out A radiance glowing, moving, swirling a bubbling transformation from stillness into life. Joy Divine!
Indivaduality/ Individuality They tell you being yourself is the best person you can ever be, But then they judge you, Expect you to change, Expect you to become someone you're not. I'm tired of trying, Tired of being someone else. Every minute I'm not myself, I become someone new. I've become full of doubts, Full of hate. Hate for the people, Who wanted me to change. I question myself, Day after day. Who am I? And why should I change? Megan Gerbs
Individuality I tried to find myself today But I got lost in the crowd. Snapped free to find my voice Come into my own, make a choice Dive deep into my soul, be proud of myself; not be afraid to say, I am who I am and that's me. This was supposed to be my individuality. I was supposed to sing my song today for everybody to hear; to be felt. Break free from oppressive chains Harmonize to the world the name The tone and lyric that is myself For all to absorb in an aural display. I am who I am when I am among thee This was supposed to be my individuality. I didn't find myself today amongst the vast and many. Sharp looks, pierced with the same stare torn by my ineptitude of existing rare Sole. As one. Condemned to monotony Unity is my captor; conformity's slave. I am who I am; another statistic of specialty I lost what I am in pursuit of individuality. Sita Ripley
I Am The Night I am the night. I am darkness at it's bluest. To me there is sheer delight in the shadow of the night No need to insist, for the night I exist. The light of day is not night's way. I am the night. I am a creature of the dark. I have been groomed for gloom. For eons of time, the night has been mine. I can't remember when the night and me didn't function as twins. Just as the ocean's floor holds mysteries, the night alone conceals my history. I am the night Just as poetry flows from ocean currents and from the slashing force of wind springs forth designs, Each drop of rain delivers music to our minds, poetry never ceases. From my point of view, at night it increases. I find beauty in each dancing shadow and exquisite delight in the secret of the night. The spirit things clothed in the unknown, Travel the same path that I consider home. Things that move skillfully at night do so without sight. I love these wonders for I am the night. My five senses are more acute than most. Of this superiority, I proudly boast. My movements are as swift as lightening dashing across the sky. They can't be held in focus by the human eye. Question - Who am I? I feed on a secret vein of life and rest in the protective cover of dusk in disguise. My skin is cold to the touch, don't worry you won't touch me much. My beginning is of no importance, but I see no end in sight. I believe I am forever; I am the night I have been known by many titles and names. For none of them do I feel shame, for I exist as all do. Just as I am me, and you are you. I am called Satan, Impaler, Death, Blood Drinker; just to name a few - Pick one that suits you. Some even call me a Ghost; yet, vampire is what I am called the most Whether these names are wrong or right, the fact remains - I am the night. © 2002 Bernard Thompson
A Scary Night By: Ivette Coronado So dark is the night With things crawling around. Noises come and fight With your mind with out a doubt. Footsteps are heard wherever you are It does not matter if they are far. Running with strength Running with fear They will catch up, so don't shed a tear. The footsteps stop, and you hear the police. A gun goes pop, and you hear a faint cough. You turn around, and look at the ground. You look at the body, and let out a cry. Then you think, "Why does this have to happen on Halloween night? "
Peak of Happiness I wish to climb The mountain of pain To reach its peak Of happiness. Tirupathi Chandrupatla
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