I wanna dance the mambo,the cubin cuba mambo,

I wanna dance the cha cha,hips movement with the cha cha!

or maybe try the salsa, deep ,sensual, is the salsa.

I wanna dance the samba,the fun brazilian samba,

or maybe the lambada,brazilian hot lambada!

My favourite s' the tango,intense ****** tango,

Lost in  the  flamenco,ardent spanish flamenco.

May even try the polka,high energy in polka,

the Czech bohemian polka!

I wanna go and party,good time ,dancing the rumba,

latino americano,cubano, africano.

I wanna do the hip hop,hip hop,hip hop,don't stop.

Dance reign  in the ballroom,

as I dance the Ball Room,under and above,

With you ,I dance my last dance,the classic dance of love.



Are you ready partner ?

THIS YEAR 2013; IS THE YEAR OF GREAT DEATHS


Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; aopicho@yahoo.com)


This year alone world society has lost more that ten great intellectual and political leaders. They have been lost to death in a deeply wounding manner. Human society has indeed been robbed. It is so sad. Three of the leaders have been Nobel laureates and the rest are leaders of intellectual, moral, political and spiritual stature in their respective capacities.
It began without any stampede in early part of the year some where March when Chinua Achebe, a Nigerian and Francis Davis Imbuga a Kenyan, both succumbed to early deaths caused by stroke. Rendering not only the citizens of world of literature, but also African society as well as global intellectual communities to the most desperate bereavement. Thereafter, within short while of the subsequent days, The Venezuelans president and Marxist intellectual, Hugo Chavez also succumbed to death caused by throat cancer. Even though the Pravda, the daily circulating paper of Russia contended that Chavez was poisoned; it is dismissible as only a Russian stand attributed to ideological hangover, because the Pravda also made similar allegations in relation to deaths of Yasser Arafat, Pablo Neruda and Frantz Omar Fanon, but it did not go a head to establish the factuality of this very allegations.
What we know is that human life is in most cases contested for by the three spiritual forces of fortune, fate and death. As decried William Shakespeare in his Romeo and Juliet. This time round in the year 2013, the angel of death has dominantly reigned with its untimely consequences in form of fangled early death of our leaders. Herman Melville will remain classical in his concern in the Moby **** about death that; O death! O death! Why are you untimely?  
Sadder is when the Al shabab terrorists killed the Ghanaian born global literary citizen Kofi Owonor. Kofi Owonor the poet and author of This world my brother was among the people killed in Nairobi during the terrorist attack at the Westgate mall. Of course he had come to Kenya to celebrate in literary festival organised by a society of publishers in Nairobi. This is an eventuality of some month ago. In September 2013, the Irish born literary Nobel prize poet; Heaney Seamus died. He died prematurely when the world society most needed his service to literature and his literary service to human society.
A couple of some weeks ago again the world loosed two prominent artists, political leaders, human rights crusaders and intellectuals. These are none other than Doris May Lessing and Tabuley Rosseuru. Lessing was a white African living in London, literature Nobel laureate and a feminist as well as an anti apartheid crusader. She is known for her firm stand against communist utopia, championing for the  courses against dehumanizing  human behaviors like racisms , but mostly Lessing is known for  her  great literary works like ;the grass is singing, Golden Note book, Dann and Mara as well as so many other works. Whereas Tabuley was an African Congolese , a musician , a businessman , once a husband to Africa’s most beautiful songstress Bellia Belle. He was the composer and the vocalist of African Rumba music. His song Bina Mudan which we in Africa always pronounce as Simbukinya was actually an artistic and cultural bombshell. Tabuley has been a politician, who enjoyed a gubernatorial position of the city of Kinshasa for ten years (two terms).
Most disastrous is the currently trial-some moment for the world community as they all commissarriate the death of Nelson Mandela.Mandella died early decemder 2013 at his home in the Johannesburg city of South Africa. The death of Mandela is an open sore to the society. It is a window for social, political, intellectual and family abyss in Africa. It is indeed a sad moment. But what can we do? For it has already happened. We can only swim in the consolation inherent the wisdom of the Babukusu people found in the western part of Kenya that; Mis-brewed wine behooves volunteer carousers. And truly, I have personally joined the world community to commit a poetical kamikaze in volunteering to drink this sour wine of humanity .May god give us and our leaders in their diverse capacities long live. Amen.

lovely Saturday morning....
      might we dance a bit today
         to ease off some sadness?*


DANCE
(A repost...some editing done)

The neighbor's stereo was playing tango music
      too loud, it made me  look at my red painted toes...
i realized, my feet hadn't even swayed
for so long now,
they've grown timid...and wary
  
All i want is to dance,
to be safe, warm,
close to one, as close as
cheek to cheek,
go left, then right,
lean, cling, then hold hands,
be held on the waist,
dip, then circle gracefully,
and step, a stretched arm away,
be brought closer once again,
hearing clearly the sighs
as the music reaches a high.

But, it was a chicken dance i had joined then,
the shaking and jiggling were so
repulsive...convulsive...confusing.
it mattered not who fell out of the beat
the desire waned,
fires die,
fires died, alright.

My feet are raring to swing back,
to be alive once more
on life's dance floor
no more falls, trips or missteps this time
just steps with a slower beat
with more grace now,
who knows,
this could be my best dance
ever!

This has got to feed my jazzy mood
play my chosen music
maybe do the shimmy for a while,
then shift to the bossa nova,
swing to its cool, hip-py rhythm.

Whatever the beat may be,
my partner and i,
we shall blend in while we do the mambo,
the rumba, cha-cha, even tap dance,
to celebrate this new chance on life.
I only  wish that on our first dance together,
we may dance the samba on the wide floor,
let the hours fly by.

Then, with a waltz,  we'll take it easy
until we finally get weary,
until we decide....to slow drag
the night away.

***

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Dance

The  neighbor's stereo was playing tango music
too loud, it made me look at my red painted toes.
I realized, my feet have not even swayed
for so long now,
they've grown timid and wary
of making the wrong step.

All i want is to dance,
to be safe, warm,
close to one, as close as
cheek to cheek,
go left, then right,
lean, cling, then hold hands,
be held on the waist,
dip, then circle gracefully,
and step, a stretched arm away,
be brought closer once again,
hearing clearly the sighs
as the music reaches a high.

But, it was a chicken dance i had joined then,
the shaking and jiggling were so
repulsive...convulsive
confusing.
it mattered not who fell out of the tempo.
the desire waned,
fires die,
fires died, alright.

My feet are raring to swing back
to be alive once more
on life's dance floor
no more falls, trips or missteps this time
i'd like to dance with a slower beat
with more grace now
who knows,
this could be my best dance
ever!

This has got to feed my jazzy mood
play my chosen music
maybe do the shimmy for a while,
then shift to the bossa nova,
swing to its cool, hip-py rhythm.

Whatever the beat may be,
my partner and i...
we shall blend in......be it mambo,
the rumba, cha-cha, even tap dance,
to celebrate this new chance on life.
Together,
we shall dance the samba on the wide floor,
let the hours fly by.

Then, with a waltz,  we'll take it easy
until we finally get weary,
until we decide
to slow drag
the night
away.

  ***

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Corners of the mouth perk up
Do they signify a smile?
Is it lip service or genuine
Parting of the lips to show the teeth?
Does it invite the cheeks
To dance the rumba?
Are eyes looking down on it
With dismay?

If invited would they even
Blink in time with you?
Would a tear trickle
To form at the corner of your lips?
Watering down the smile
You have allowed to begin

The tissues line up to dab
Your cheeks, wiping the drops
From your lips, damming
Up the waterfall before
Your boots are soaked
While puddles collect at
Your feet and slowly begin
To drown you out

Why.....I'm not that person
I smile with my eyes...
I think...
Do I?
Can I?
Will I?
Have I?
Do I want to?

Yes I smile
Do others see it?
Is it in my mind and
Not widely known?
A secret within me....?

So may I share a smile
With you today?

One that splits from ear to ear
Makes my jaw ache
That creates sparkle in my eyes
One I know to be true

You smiled back at me today
Broad and unabashed

It was worth it!!

two ladies
dressed to ****
give me a shiver
give me a thrill

they kiss each other
their mouths pink and bright
tender and cruel
a kiss then a bite

******* brush soft
*****'s get wet
hands ***** *******
drools like a pet

******* explode
spasms and creams
hands touching thighs
sizzling dreams

oh they love
all candy and ***
shadowed eyes
lips like ***

ones a slave
the other her queen
then they switch
kiss and scream

its hotter then hot
a burning **** sun
melting butter slits
a tempest of fun

doing the rumba
pretty dance feet
swaying hips
gawd its sweet

lovely behinds
moving in place
what i want always
is ***** mouth face

you need each other
like a vampires needs blood

you've always loved her ***
those long legs

unexpected arguments
the word no
fantasies of make up ***
make up ***

late night sneaking farts
off spring

springing

debt and drudgery
till half dead
weight gain from a sagging liver
and retching love

labyrinth's of desire and anger
divorce; the sword of Damocles
a mad hatter
Zyklon B shower

seeing stupid through her eyes
my face like a vitrine of broken masks
the way she looks in floppy slippers
or dressed up in black and pearls

snoring with a gaping mouth
of floating spirits in intricate patterns
of  darkness made of nothing

making believe your with someone else
*** fantasies I've never spoken of
in sultry dioramas of glistening leg shows
mosaic starred
baiting unguent nights

on my knees again
eating thorns
and she is more adorable than the rumba

a hot arsonist setting me on fire
canopy of flowers
golden apples and blood
pouring down shade sun and rain

decades of the same sentences
and the same dead sea silences
in claustrophobic tangles
of devotion

seeing who dies first
or left desolate;
with a legacy
of gnawing remembrance
that chew moth to cloth
lantern of vapors; weeping

it beats the hell out of being alone
at the end
I go back to the beginning

the marrying kind

Where can I run
To escape the reality
Of my first break-up?
Where can I hide
To dodge those
That are after directing my life?
These evil maestros
Don’t know how to let an instrument
Ring out in its own voice.
Can my hands
Cover the Medusa eyes
That hiss in circulation
Until I tell my life plans?

Sometimes I wish the night would never end,
Not so I can rest,
But I can wander without fearing the terror
Of not knowing what’s around me.
I wish I could become a virtual character,
Gaining hopping abilities,
And being able to lurk on rural ground
As I admire the brilliance
Of the light pollution
From nearby facilities.
I wish I could just flee
The amateur terror others cannot see or feel.
I’m not talking societal threats or actions,
But what I see all too often
Is what chokes my growth
And ability to move on.
The living presence of my past
Still has me in a gridlock
That I wrestle with all day
Even though my weakness defeats me every time.
Fine, here’s my privacy and dignity,
Just leave me and my nocturnal silhouette
To intimately caress each other,
Rumba, tango, freely through the darkness,
The shadows, the black light
Which guides me but trips you.