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this anonymous weaver spun written tapestry
to acknowledge ninetieth plus longevity year
no matter this author unknown, who deftly tries to weave
(for pete sakes) with english poetry
where rhyming threads fire away (from axons to neurons)
at warp speed way out there
attempting to coalesce into
semblance of comprehension from non other than me
a veritable stranger, who considers
ye huff hoke icon, that hoop fully destiny will spare

until one grain of sand takes thee
to eternal blue skies astride astral throne like king henry
with minstrelsy folks housed
the memories hermetically sealed place
thy father’s razed mansion no longer poised far and near
intent to discern adroit banjo finger
picking plucky talent admission for all – free,
whose eponymous trademark je nais sais quois
legendary voice rang like a bell jar in the air.

unsure if this epistle (possibly coming across
as mixed up) like mish mashed verse
ye might arrange and rearrange into a song
living in the country of upstate new york state
epitomizing spartan holistic existence somewhere
over the rainbow with hefty purse
exemplifying decades of fame and fortune
that odds on favorite moost did highly rate
your fount of endless lyrical musical natural playing style

auditory tunes ears did immerse
themselves from just one man’s hand
whether newlyweds who did marry a loving mate
or others exhaling final breath
afore crossing river jordan inside the hearse
while convoy chants favorite chorus abiyoyo
with standard amen for the late
mortal, whereby such preferential fanfare
for loss of precious friend family doth curse.

since thee became deceased no great expectations (by dickens)
feedback will be forth coming to this average joe
who chose to plunk himself down here
and simply let spontaneity take full rein
this spur of the moment ode
(perhaps difficult to comprehend),
oaf hello you will never know
and travel down shady lane

(more akin to boulevard of broken dreams) in the main
with elusive passion to live in tandem with nature
whereby garden this dad could ***
reaping from sweat of thine brow afterward
upon festival of flowers this body will be lain
but spouse prepared siesta meal,
hence now end this rambling poem to go,
ponder trials and tribulations whilst in need to feed body and brain.

NO MATTER YE PASSED AWAY, I ENJOYED
YOUR SATISFIED MUSICALLY INCLINED MIND
AND WISHED THE WEBBED WIDE WORLD FILLED
WITH MORE OF YOUR KIND.
Xan Abyss Oct 2017
I am a Ghost
A lecherous imp with a golden heart staring from a distance at nymphs
in the blooded shine of sunset
Watching from the shadows;
Dreaming in the dark.
Desiring not to disurb
but desperately longing to be part of their world
Desire.... it is a curse
But one I am born to bear
I am a rogue
But one with love in his mineral heart
And joy he wishes to share
I dwell in a dark cave of phantom memories
Haunting me every day
I seek out Queens for company
But harbor a secret desire
to hold them as slaves
To keep them...
And ravish them....
Eternally lock them away..
To creep and crawl like an insect;
Devour the pain that they hide
Possess their body and mind...
To Physically,
Emotionally,
Mentally linger inside.
Yet, I am but a child
Though deep in our hearts, aren't we all?
And if we aren't, how tragic,
That the magic should die at all.
And still, I am a man.
A man who knows what he wants.
A man who doesn't believe in borders,
A man with a purpose,
A man who is lost.
I am an angel,
A demon,
A passionate rambler indeed,
I am a dreamer,
A midnight screamer,
A farmer sowing his seeds.
I am imagination,
Wrapped in slight intoxication,
Disguised in a young
but aging man's body,
A plain tornado of human emotions.
So I write,
For I am a writer,
and I sing, so I am a singer,
and I live to perform,
(Which makes me a performer)
Wandering blind towards a sense of identity,
But my journey has gotten no warmer.
Despite this harsh truth,
my path remains clear
& I refuse to surrender to fear.
I have a destiny,
I can see it.
Even if plagued with unusual needs.
A complex person?
Indeed.
But who am I?
No idea.
Found this poem in the notes on my phone. I don't remember why or how I wrote it.
Gilang Perdana Aug 2017
1
a singer — he want to go to the moon
and I pinned on his head. he wants
to sing with all the heavenly body
and allege about love to his lover

2
another singer who like to dance
also pinned me on his head. he walks
like a moon — hard to tell the contrast
of black and white from a cubit

3
and again, a singer. I am as cursed
too lazy to go everywhere — to like forever
I want to be pinned on his head — sing along
and dance from a stage to another

4
and I am —
they'll refuse me
if I'm not me
: but do not
Geraldine Taylor Jun 2017
In angelic voice, enthral, rejoice

Of peace be s-t-i-l-l, for one fine day

A garden of dreams, over the rainbow, a daydream behold

In a graceful realm, of grace to amaze, a dawn of promising rays

Blissful skies, sunlight arise, a peaceful picture

Soul silhouette, lest we forget, royal remembrance

Together we stand, to thee, across the land

A musical language, all-embracing, casted carousel

Performance premier, shining sensational, inspirational

Hail – music of the night, dance with the stars

Tap and glide, a guiding star, something in the way……….

Just as you are

Journeying jewel, revel, jubilee

A walk through autumn leaves, in timeless reverie

Sounding soprano, crowds resonate, of joyfulness elate

Gracefulness of elegance, a time of prime

A gift given, of noble distinction

A symphony of sophistication

Due adulation, due applause, with charitable cause

Exceptional tours, over a great and mighty distance

Of services rendered, a splendour of release

Flowering duet, a radiant bloom, of times unknowing

We’ll meet again – soon



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Geraldine Taylor Jun 2017
Dare to dazzle, iconic diva

Behold an era, enrapture enthral

Silence devour, of vocal power

Renowned rendition – a rising star

Raise the bar, raise the roof

Glistening shimmer, strike a chord

Stage of a songstress, talent transformed

Driven determined, of diamonds worn

Splendour f-o-r-e-v-e-r, glamorous gift

Essence emerged, craft crystal clear

Sparkle supreme, showcase and shine

Sensational art form, eminence given

007, pre-eminence proven

Of charm interwoven

Impeccable gem



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Shirley Bassey is a renowned songstress, with flair and appeal, that has captivated audiences worldwide. From humble beginnings, her earlier years would see her sights set for the stage. She took the opportunities to perform her vocal talent locally to small crowds. Yet a later opening of an audition placed her where opportunity could see her. With a manger on board, she could now pursue her dream on a larger scale and reach larger audiences.

She was driven, determined and bold, whilst she also had the crystal clear confidence to take her talent to the stage. Her power ballads have not only stood out, but have stood the test of time. Such pursuits had additionally brought about her role to sing iconic theme songs for James Bond. She possesses charisma and her glamorous style continues to be a phenomenal showcase for 'fashionistas' alike. Her legacy, as like diamonds continues to shine on, with diverse generations equally inspired
Solaces May 2017

I hope you are seeing the light that you sang to us all about..  

Wash away the rain with a black hole sun..

Fine out what the Superunknown is about..

Give a spoon to a spoonman!

Break out of that Rusty cage..

You fell on black days brother..

But your voice left so much light behind..

Your voice will never be Outshined!

So say hello to heaven..

And sing in the Sunshower!
Graff1980 Apr 2017
When she sings I cry
I am stuck on stilts
Kissing clouds
Suckling on her voice
Supping up the gravy of her thighs
Her music
Makes me feel
The soft muscles
Her tight abs
Behind those glasses
Light eyes sparkle
White lies
Dancing in the lyrics
For anyone who wants to feel it
She is like ******
My addiction
And I keep coming
And coming back again
Running my hands through her hair
But that is in dreams
That is when dreams end
And I come back down to earth
Crashing
Comet cracking the crust
Spitting and spewing musical dust
And if lust isn’t enough
Then I must
Keep my distance
Sarah Mar 2017
Your golden hair is tinted purple because of the way you're standing in the hue of the blinding lights.

    I don't know if that's my heart or the drum beat that's shaking my rib cage, stealing the air from my cigarette stained lungs, making me tear up either from pride or fear because of your alluring looks.

I may know this song like the back of my hand because ****,
I wrote it, but you're making me forget the words by just your one stare. My heart is bursting out of my chest, my fingers fumbling on the guitar strings but I play it off like an unexpected riff that gives a rise to the crowd like you're making the hair on my arms do.

you're so ******* beautiful.

To make this flow into your ears like a melody or translated flawlessly like a song, let me profess:
You take my  breath away.
Written 3/12/17
kailasha Nov 2016
i was told that she moved like the wind,
and her eyes carried whispers from the ocean that
her hands breathed like the leaves but

it wasn't till i saw her in the lights,
dancing as the music swirled around
speaking like she could chase away sorrows and
singing because the world depended on her words, that

her voice reminded me of the home where i belong.
Runaway - Aurora
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