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the duration of the gig will last
for three exceptional years
by the end of it aficionados would
have shed some tears

let us all recall
the two tunes listed below
which were heard in
many a marvellous show

Daniel is traveling tonight on a plane
I can see the red tail lights heading for Spain

Don't go breaking my heart
I couldn't if I tried
Oh honey if I get restless
baby you're not that kind

our glittering Sir Elton John
bopping on the piano
the catalogue of his hits
a lyrical nano

collaborating with Sir Bernie Taupin
together a dynamic partnership
who knew how a song would
stay in the mind's companionship

departing from entertaining
on the world's musical stage
leaving a remarkable footnote
of rock and roll homage
Acknowledgements to Sir Elton John and Sir Bernie Taupin.
Ivan Brooks Sr Jan 2018
I pay great homage to my Africa
The continent of a million cultures
Roots of the Dreadlocks of Jamaica
Jambo Africa, land of the vultures
Akwaba to the Eden of Black people
Ancient Africa mother of humanity
The world still feed at your diseased table
Oh, Africa, custodian of nature's bounty.

Mama Ebony, you've forever represented since creation
Thy cornerstones are planted on top of Pharaoh's tomb
Oh Timbuktu, cradle of ancient education
Blessed is thy beautiful dark womb.
Lined with fertile dark mineral soil
Eternal volt of the Ashanti gold
Adorned with gems, smeared with oil
Yet not half of your story has been told
Volcanos fuels silently off your gas
Land of Akana, guidance of the sun
Your Pyramid stands where it once was
Watching time and age having some fun.

Ivan Brooks Sr
I pay homage to Africa,mother of humanity
My roots,my people.My culture
and My history ,,
Spirit of my ancestors.
A T Bockholdt Dec 2017
so cool and gold
these hoops dance,
on the edge
of my shoulders.
they match, my skin.
they set fire,
to your son.
they are loved.
they are loud,
against my ears.
they are the only
cuffs, ill ever wear
these. gold hoops
are always proud,
oh, yes, my gold
hoops, give me power.
they swing with my step,
glint with my smile,
circle around your mind and
leave you to hang.
This is part of collection for a senior portfolio project at CU Denver
Project is intended to represent the stylistic distinctions of great American poets through the imitation of their poetics and/or their subject matter

Lucille Clifton is an important feminist, as well as, racial writer. Her works encompass the conscious break from traditional standards which she exhibits in the playful brevity of her poetry, and purposeful lack of punctuation. "homage to my hips," is one of her most anthologized poems representative of her power as a black woman in the world. My imitation, "homage to my gold hoops," are representative of my own race-*** relations in the world I live in. The negative connotation that gold hoops have gained over time (e.g. "the bigger the hoop the bigger the ***") is an example of removing power from a female object and lending it to the male point of view. In this poem, as I do everyday, I take this power back with my gold hoops.
Zero Nine Sep 2017
I want to ask you to be more meteorite than devoted
I want to ask of second tries when the first was pointless
I want your flesh in flames, defeated by the fire inside
I want you momentary

Time on Earth is short so I raise my lowered eyes,
Cast them at one lucky star and liberate my lowly heart
With a below breath, whispered wish:

I want to ask you to be more like me than yourself
I want to ask the impossible and punish your failure
I want your utter burnout to match my speed of entry,
Air to ground, apparently

I have not ever considered myself of worth
I never adapted to the loneliness of adult life

Time on Earth is short so I raise my lowered eyes,
Cast them at one lucky star and liberate my lowly heart
With a below breath, whispered wish:

Let me know it's truly you when I see your face on Mars.
Better be careful with this one. I feel so powerfully, that there's high potential I'll get pinned.
Cné Jun 2017
Evening has subsided with a whisper in the west.
It chased the sunset's final rays as she prepared for rest.

Night has dropped her curtain but the moon has come to play.
The overture begins, as lonely crickets have their way.

The breeze begins to soften and the grass is standing still.
The leaves no longer beckon in the trees upon the hill.

I huddle in the darkness and await the rising wind.
A prayer is formed upon my lips, in homage to a friend.

And there ... I feel the sweet caress, a hand upon my cheek
A breeze that comes from someone ... from the passing soul, I seek.

And as I watch the lingering stars and hear the rustling leaves
I know that she has left this world and heavenward, she weaves.

I bid farewell to one, who loved this life, and all it gave
I dedicate this poem to her and toward the moon, I wave.
...and her memory, I save
i went back and forth on the last line.
RIP Carrie
forever in my heart, sweet one
you shall remain young
Arpan Rathod May 2017
"Everything will be alright"
said she.
and for the first time
I wanted to believe it.
Jodie LindaMae May 2017
The fig tree metaphor
Seems to gain much more meaning
The older I get.
I put a cigarette behind my ear today
And when I removed it to smoke
I realized that it was wet with the oil
From my scalp; I smoked it anyway.

Does smoking my ****** fluids
Make me seem a little more
Bukowski than normal?
Bob Dylan, the unwashed phenomenon
Of his day
Held no candle  (in my opinion)
To Phil Ochs
But here we are,
Marching on
Because the Times Are Changing.

Remember me
When the draft comes
And they forget your sunken eyes and sallow skin.
Remember me and how I said
That purple and yellow
Were my favorite colors.
life before the pages being written
is potential

Life in mid-sentence
is a form book

Life after publishing
is homage
Xan Abyss Feb 2017
Ride the Serpent, baby
Into the Great Sea
Ride the Devil, Angel
Into the Deep Sleep
I came from outside
With a universal mind
And you and I can fly, my darling
We need only to die

Ride the Serpent, baby
Into the Great Sea
Ride the Devil, Angel
Into the Deep Sleep
My friends on the inside
Pour us fountains of red wine
"Alive!" She cried, and I was mystified
By the crimson in her eyes

Persian Night, babe - fly with me
See the light, babe? Cry with me
I wanna taste your fearful tears
Show me your eyes and open wide
When the ancient witch appears
We can howl like beasts of the wild

Come back, LA Woman
I'm sick of doin' time
Is this the end?
Can someone find me reason for a rhyme?

"We are but clowns in a cosmic circus, degrading ourselves for a silent, uncaring audience. Their Collective gaze dances across our fragile flesh like so many knives on fire. We bleed. We burn. Our healing begets new ailments. We continue to suffer. We continue to survive. We never stop smiling. The circus is all we have. To lose the horror is to lose the Majesty as well. We must not quit. The lights have not gone down, and we hope they never will. We cannot afford to lose our audience. The Show Must Go On."

Persian Night, little angel!
Fly with me!
See the light, little angel?
Die with me!
I want you here, obscene
For all eternity
For I long to hear the scream of the butterfly!

So turn off the light!
Turn off the light!
Turn off the light and see!
Turn off the lights!
Turn off the lights!
Turn off the lights for me!

...Ride the Serpent, baby
Into the Great Sea
Ride the Devil, Angel
Into the Deep Sleep
Turn off the light and climb inside my universal mind
And finally we can be free
An homage to Jim Morrison.
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