Infinity is so tedious
it just goes on and on
and on and on and on
and on and on and on

and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on

Forever has no limits
it just goes on and on
and on and on and on
and on and on and on

and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on

This poem's got no end
it might go on and on
and on and on and on
and on and on and on

and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on

Repeat ad nauseam

Cynthia Pauline Jones 11/11/13

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 *******,
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.

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.

There is an entire world
Of mine
Waiting for another world
To combine

There is a huge list
Of to do things
But they can only fly
When I find the matching wings

There are empty diaries
To be filled
About that someone
Who would have my loneliness killed

There are journeys to be made
With romance in the air
A heart on my sleeve
Kissing away with no care

There are gifts and letters
Waiting to be found and wrote
There is a whole feeling of love
Urging to be expressed in my poems or quotes

Words are eager to be spoken
Mean and lovely ones
Those sarcastic comments
And intended puns.

There are plans
Expecting a change
There is a future
Waiting to exist in exchange

There is hope and belief
About my destiny
There is a prayer
For solving the mystery

I’m waiting patiently
And I don’t cease to live
Just need to find that one person…
In return, I have a lot to give.

-Zainab Attari

A tall elixir
Swirling flask
Unfinished liquid
Thoughts putrid

A shot of elixir
Drowning sorrow
Unglamorous color
Forgetful odor

Another elixir
Heavier, thicker
Unfettered desire
Desiring another

Anosher elishir
Heevy sluur
Unsobur effurt
Bluuring vishun...

Afae afgij
Jealk lli
Ggag..
...