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"samba" poems
'Neath canopy of paradise Super troupers' shafts of light Illuminate his terpsichore; ***** he struts, the impresario Gyrating on spindle shanks; Needle thin and knock-kneed He dances a samba On stage of verdure; Midst Elvis blue-black thrusts, Steel rimmed amber orbs Seek admiring and desirous glances From the dour drab hen, Mousy in her beige twin set And mottled tweed skirt; With nonchalant disinterest she exits The arena; audition over.
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Jun 24, 2010
Jun 24, 2010 at 11:40 AM UTC
Bird of Paradise
The youth Youth is weird, Somewhat interesting. An adult pop rock mix With child soda pop. Youth is Coca-Cola, Marlboro, whiskey and energy, The eternal monologue of life, ID number, property tax and Netflix. Youth is John Lennon, Che, Fidel and Hendrix, Contemporary history, ancient and medieval history. Youth is pants ripped jeans, Popsicle, lollipop, painted face, Chicle, coffee and french fries, Point G, miniskirt and condoms. Youth is the Dalai Lama, Techno, rave and rasta, Drugs, drops and guitar, Punk, samba and hopefully that-fall. Youth is the opposite of the opposite, It's a Friday at midnight, Mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise, X-salad, ham and cheese sandwich and X-men. Youth is D-Day, Vietnam, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Testosterone, Woodstock and Waterloo, Afghanistan, TPM and MTV. Youth is a pressure cooker, Isis, Syria, sukiyaki, Anonymous, Al Qaeda, rice and beans, Genesis, Revelation and mint candy. Youth is weird, Somewhat interesting. An adult pop rock mix With child soda pop.
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May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
THE YOUTH
Organic Simili Samba Orchestra Electronica Writing TV, Watching Music Reality Distortion Field It Becomes Like Another World Giant Gutter from Outer Space Artificial Intelligence Intergalactic Existence - Open Gates of Ancient Knowledge Archetypal Architecture Low Resolution Universe Dark Pineapples & Chocolate New Operative Perspective Unbreakable Circuits of Love Dance the Spiral Never Ending And the Colours Made the Earth Sing
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Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
Twisted Sounds & Stomping Rythms
as the shimmering stars in the scorpio skies samba in syzygy, here on scorched earth the sparkling eyes of this silk rose become stress’s antidote to soothe body and soul. feeling sanguine, even a tad sangfroid, i smile, scribbling sultry muses sauced with sass and sibilance © 2021
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Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 9:23 AM UTC
sibilance
Intense eyes, a majestic eagle,                  circling high, is the air she carries, a samba dancer luscious, who strikes                     blow after blow with her belly button, central stage always is hers                    a bird of pray elegant on the look out, the heightened awareness from                    a sense of clear danger present, is the reward she assures,                  to him every minute for being her escort. Rub her right, rub her wrong,                       find what it would bring was his itch the eagle woman conceals nothing,                      keeps her eyes keen, wide open, her mind a radar, focused on                     what is to happen the moment next, from mid air like a missile she swoops down,                     stand still for a moment and then strikes, she is on her prey, but he has                       slipped away, at the precise moment. Both are in awe of each other, but smiles,        on the dance floor they are glued to each other, he now plans a daring plot,                  named "The sword of Damocles" she is of two minds, love this game,                     finds him fitting the bill, yet the bird of prey awaits time for the next raid                         "He is made of dainty stuff".
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Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 6:12 AM UTC
The eagle woman and her dodgy man dance Samba
Intense eyes, a majestic eagle,                  circling high, is the air she carries, a samba dancer luscious, who strikes                     blow after blow with her belly button, central stage always is hers                    a bird of pray elegant on the look out, the heightened awareness from                    a sense of clear danger present, is the reward she assures,                  to him every minute for being her escort. Rub her right, rub her wrong,                       find what it would bring was his itch the eagle woman conceals nothing,                      keeps her eyes keen, wide open, her mind a radar, focused on                     what is to happen the moment next, from mid air like a missile she swoops down,                     stand still for a moment and then strikes, she is on her prey, but he has                       slipped away, at the precise moment. Both are in awe of each other, but smiles,        on the dance floor they are glued to each other, he now plans a daring plot,                  named "The sword of Damocles" she is of two minds, love this game,                     finds him fitting the bill, yet the bird of prey awaits time for the next raid                         "He is made of dainty stuff".
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28
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 ?
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Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 2:54 AM UTC
Cabaret Show (Shall we dance ?)
When two people, so different in taste, look at each other from across the dance floor, a secret sparks out of their eyes like electric rays of romantic notation. Words have yet to be exchanged, but the slow steps towards one another make time slow to an unearthly crawl. Those dancing are nothing more than hues of grey, for the two ash-stricken lovers cannot see more than those they are attracted to. Hearts pound to a rhythm that can no longer be found within the upbeats of the swaying samba. As she longs to be in his arms, he stops only inches in front, his breath caught in his throat. The increasing amount of love being released from just his simplistic gaze makes her want to run as far as she can. With him of course, though it is not a realistic approach to the turmoil surrounding their troublesome secret. A secret that increases as he gently slides his fingers against her cheek, resting the palm of his hand on the back of her neck. Feeling the contrasting temperatures of the cool evening and her racing heartbeat, her head begins to get foggy with the vision of love that is shortly about to engulf her every fiber. The kiss, so gentle and sweet, brings back the times of innocence that was not thwarted by the interruption of time and changed lives. If only they could run away…
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC
Upbeats of the Swaying Samba
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of love this is Africa What's in Africa? What's there to see? I asked myself on the New Year's eve I thought that I was good in geography But I didn't know Lagos or Nairobi I might be ignorant, I have to admit About Africa I knew just a little bit The great Sahara - sands of mystery! The Nile river - so much history! Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa Namibia, Nigeria, Niger, Angola, Algeria Burundi, Benin and Libya, Lesotho and Liberia Burkina-Faso, Botswana, Guinea-Bissau, Ghana Djibouti, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Uganda, Rwanda, Gambia I saw a film on Serengeti Park A one of a kind, a must-see landmark I watched a documentary on pyramids of Giza They're much much older than Mona Lisa I heard that oldest coffee plants Take their roots in Ethiopia's land And that samba, rumba, funk and jazz Take their beats from African drums Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of love this is Africa Cameroon and Congo, Malawi, Mali, Morocco Côte d'Ivoire and Kenya, Mauritius, Mauritania Tunisia, Tanzania, Eswatini, Eritrea Sudan, Senegal, Somalia, Sierra Leone, South Sudan You can travel around cities of Africa Like Cape Town, Cairo or Casablanca If you're in love or plan to be Go to Zanzibar, feel that ocean breeze! Climb up mount Kilimanjaro Watch the zebras cross the Masai Mara If you're adventurous, you're a dreamer Take a wild trip down Zambezi river Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa Comoros, Chad, Cabo Verde, Democratic Republic of Congo Ethiopia, Egypt, Guinea, Gabon, Equatorial Guinea and Togo Madagascar, Mozambique, Central African Republic Sao Tome and Principe, South Africa and Seychelles Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland, I'm on my way to Africa!
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May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 7:33 PM UTC
Africa is Beautiful
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of love this is Africa What's in Africa? What's there to see? I asked myself on the New Year's eve I thought that I was good in geography But I didn't know Lagos or Nairobi I might be ignorant, I have to admit About Africa I knew just a little bit The great Sahara - sands of mystery! The Nile river - so much history! Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa Namibia, Nigeria, Niger, Angola, Algeria Burundi, Benin and Libya, Lesotho and Liberia Burkina-Faso, Botswana, Guinea-Bissau, Ghana Djibouti, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Uganda, Rwanda, Gambia I saw a film on Serengeti Park A one of a kind, a must-see landmark I watched a documentary on pyramids of Giza They're much much older than Mona Lisa I heard that oldest coffee plants Take their roots in Ethiopia's land And that samba, rumba, funk and jazz Take their beats from African drums Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of love this is Africa Cameroon and Congo, Malawi, Mali, Morocco Côte d'Ivoire and Kenya, Mauritius, Mauritania Tunisia, Tanzania, Eswatini, Eritrea Sudan, Senegal, Somalia, Sierra Leone, South Sudan You can travel around cities of Africa Like Cape Town, Cairo or Casablanca If you're in love or plan to be Go to Zanzibar, feel that ocean breeze! Climb up mount Kilimanjaro Watch the zebras cross the Masai Mara If you're adventurous, you're a dreamer Take a wild trip down Zambezi river Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa Comoros, Chad, Cabo Verde, Democratic Republic of Congo Ethiopia, Egypt, Guinea, Gabon, Equatorial Guinea and Togo Madagascar, Mozambique, Central African Republic Sao Tome and Principe, South Africa and Seychelles Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland, I'm on my way to Africa!
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46
Will you dance with me? Even in the stormy seas Will you dance with me? Let our spirits soar and swing Can we hold on While letting go At the same time Of everything Throwing our cares Like brilliant kites Into the wind Watch the sunrise Never looking back Again Watch the sunset Our inhibitions Free to Bend Will you dance with me? Illuminating Follow me into the sky Reaching out beyond the top Our hands are linked We cannot stop Can we spin And fall And sink Can we glide And blaze Within the blue Twisting and turning Like eagle lovers Often do Will you dance with me? Let our inhibitions chime Across the heavens A storm of flames All brilliant-like We are The sound Of lightening As we Tango through the stars Exploring galaxies And Mars There is no limit To how far We will frolic In our waltz The universe Is ours Will you dance with me? Vibrate from head to toe Rhumba and foxtrot With our hearts Whirl and sway A feather dance Of native love In Every Way Will you dance with me? Can we spin And fall And sink Can we glide And blaze Within the blue Oh, how I want to be Twisting and turning Here with you Like eagle lovers Often do Will you dance with me? A dance for all time A samba, a strut A step where We unwind Releasing our fears Painting our tears Watching the sky Become the canvas Of our eyes No longer Dreaming Of your Spirit Catching you Catching me Catching you Eternally Dance with me... tHE tERRY tREE
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
DANCE WITH ME
It was a throwback party Of the Bossa Nova Staying up late until The dance was over. The Latin beat pounding, The music was everything It was so happy sounding. Bossa Nova was king. It is the cousin to samba And in Brazil it is the way To party with your amigos Partying the night away. Dancing like the music Lives inside your soul. Much livelier than cha cha Twice as hot as rock and roll. It was a throwback party Of the Bossa Nova Staying up late until The dance was over. Time to wear **** clothing Girls in dresses up so high Men in calças they can dance in Oba! How the hours fly. Music, sometimes words And a strong and ***** beat Drive away the daily worries And put the rhythm in the feet. It was a throwback party Of the Bossa Nova Staying up late until The dance was over. The Latin beat pounding, The music was everything It was so happy sounding. Bossa Nova was king.
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Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
BOSSA NOVA PARTY
Eat from the ground, all the different colours of the food, autumn comes, pain for the leaves, death dyes the life,   Earth gives, slippery sometimes, stuntman fall on the floor for a film nutrition beneath our feet, kaleidoscope of tastes and sensations, good, trees that grow and give life splinter skin, carnival of motions reaching from the ground in an infinite cascade, hope for the future, baseball players in a stadium, the crowds and players all wrapped around the same pleasures for a little while, for some it's sugar, and others ******   Fluffy colours fades, samba, world feeling; Cake at a party finger dipping from bowl to bowl of party foods refined from all recognition from the ground first manufactured by nature, glass spilt over and sticky hair, slither of glass on the table, children spin around on the grass, blood, a nail from a plank of wood left on the grass, pain like the bite of a snake, activity carries on despite the tears, dance, sponge deprived of it's fondant,   the sun is going, the ground remains warm a while.
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Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 7:35 PM UTC
Earth
My last trip out of the country Was Carnival in Rio The Samba parade in Rio, It is truly the 8th Wonder of the World The most physically amazing Yet, intensely ****** Thing I've ever seen. So many beautiful women Such a celebration of their form Some in feathers as large as my living room Others, only in a thong. All because of Lent? Not a Brazilian,   My memories still make my blood hot enough to melt the snow And I realize I need to see the Amazon again I'm reminded, also That I am, my mother's daughter The Samba was so hot It melts your clothes off. Save your pennies And go.
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Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 5:19 PM UTC
Carnival in Rio
a knuckled skull with no where to go made of mud and blood took a needle to sew made her during a blood moon her parts for pleasure some one to spoon did it in shadows so angels couldn't see fashioned detritus scraped a dead tree gave her toes and a small chin played a samba and shaped her thin after I wove her from spiritous mist she called me god i did insist i wanted her **** incantations and **** made to do the who-la resurrection did come in barbarous tongue enshrined truth on her head she animated and got out of bed who am I she begged to see my lover always i said with glee what is love she did inquire its feelings of warmth that do inspire where are they, where is it is it in this room i have nothing in me where does it loom i pulled down my pants she looked up with shock oh my god she cried what a beautiful **** she came at me unbridled and mad grabbed me and broke me and called me dad she starved for a stuffing and ****** like a pig huffing and puffing my **** got so big we lived together till I dropped dead she lives forever still waiting in bed
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Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 8:40 AM UTC
GOLEM
Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Oye como va... the neighbors voices climbing out of windows left and right. Is that you Tito? Put down those pots and pans. Make better use of those hands. Don't you know those hands were made for working? Follow your father to his factory grave shift, Make razorblades to sell. We'll always have hair on our faces. Is that you Tito? Knock off that racket. Here I am trying to sleep And you've got my feet to moving. The night was made for dancing Tito, And dancing was made for Harlem, But that's bastante on a Wednesday mijo. The young king packs up his studio, Whistling dixie like she's never been whistled before. Twirling the melody from royal lips, Showing her how to use those God given hips. Where did you find that groove you in your neck? And do the words Puerto Rico still give you the chills? You have walked on too many streets in New York City And the Afro-beat is shacking up with the Cuban. You can hear their children playing in the barrio allá, And aquí they're blowing horns of imagination. Make those wooden sticks tap your telegram, Tito. Let the world know about this message brewing inside you. They hate. They yell. They love to see you dancing, But your ankles told you that wasn't right for you. Your hands never have been able to keep still. Maybe it's because they feel the future. Do you realize where your bridge will lead? You are the future Tito. Do what you got to do to be where you got to be. Play in Uncle Sam's band but don't you go to Normandy. Follow your hands back to the big apple, Take a bite out of this place they call Juliard. When you sleep at night are they still screaming… Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go somewhere where the floor is on fire With the fusion of jazz and samba. Make it bigger Tito until it looks like it did in your dreams. Pick up those sticks and mata los timbales. Have the decency to wink when they name you king. What is it that you mixed in that *** Your alchemy giving birth to new species. Have mercy Tito. Your music is feasting on the ears of the public, Your hands are drumming on the ecosystem. They call it salsa, and you laugh Because they can't taste the carne. Shine those pots and pans. Tip your hat to Spanish Harlem, Where windows stay open to let the dreamers dream big And the red brick walls are soaked with memories. Babarabatiri Tito, Teach the world how to dance. Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Oye como va... a legend.
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Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 1:40 AM UTC
Tito 18/30
Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Oye como va... the neighbors voices climbing out of windows left and right. Is that you Tito? Put down those pots and pans. Make better use of those hands. Don't you know those hands were made for working? Follow your father to his factory grave shift, Make razorblades to sell. We'll always have hair on our faces. Is that you Tito? Knock off that racket. Here I am trying to sleep And you've got my feet to moving. The night was made for dancing Tito, And dancing was made for Harlem, But that's bastante on a Wednesday mijo. The young king packs up his studio, Whistling dixie like she's never been whistled before. Twirling the melody from royal lips, Showing her how to use those God given hips. Where did you find that groove you in your neck? And do the words Puerto Rico still give you the chills? You have walked on too many streets in New York City And the Afro-beat is shacking up with the Cuban. You can hear their children playing in the barrio allá, And aquí they're blowing horns of imagination. Make those wooden sticks tap your telegram, Tito. Let the world know about this message brewing inside you. They hate. They yell. They love to see you dancing, But your ankles told you that wasn't right for you. Your hands never have been able to keep still. Maybe it's because they feel the future. Do you realize where your bridge will lead? You are the future Tito. Do what you got to do to be where you got to be. Play in Uncle Sam's band but don't you go to Normandy. Follow your hands back to the big apple, Take a bite out of this place they call Juliard. When you sleep at night are they still screaming… Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go somewhere where the floor is on fire With the fusion of jazz and samba. Make it bigger Tito until it looks like it did in your dreams. Pick up those sticks and mata los timbales. Have the decency to wink when they name you king. What is it that you mixed in that *** Your alchemy giving birth to new species. Have mercy Tito. Your music is feasting on the ears of the public, Your hands are drumming on the ecosystem. They call it salsa, and you laugh Because they can't taste the carne. Shine those pots and pans. Tip your hat to Spanish Harlem, Where windows stay open to let the dreamers dream big And the red brick walls are soaked with memories. Babarabatiri Tito, Teach the world how to dance. Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Go Tito, Go Tito Mata los timbales Go Tito Oye como va... a legend.
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78
Wondaland, a.k.a. The Magic Metropolis June 13th, 2021 Esteemed Readers and Writers, Gangstapoets and Hangarounds, Gangstapoetry proudly declares that CREATION 96 is now the second unit of our Global Movement. We are welcoming our new members. You are now a part of us. Much Love. Tizzop GANGSTAPOETS **** 13.8  *  MIKEY DA STREETWISE  *  EAZY LEGS *  ADORABLE GREGGIE  *  MONICA MATADORA  *  SLY BOOTYGIRL  *  COLLAPSIN CHAOT  *  THE LADY REVENANT  *  BEEN  *  WOOZY WIZARD  *  TELLY  *  CRATERSKATER  *  CHEYENNE IS STARVIN  *  CASPER THE PSYCHOTIC GHOST  GANGSTAPOETS DESERT SAMURAI  *  PRESTON  *  ALBOW  *  SNOWBLADE  MUTANT  *  SAMBA  *  UNKLE OF DOOM  *  PLAY  *  ANTWONE  *  BOBBY BUTCHAH  *  TINA  *  JOEY  *  DREAM SEEKER  *  TRANCE DISCIPLE  * *  MOTH  *  DR. ****  *  KOBA COBRATONGUE  GANGSTAPOETS SVETLANA  *  GUNJAHTOOL  *  LOUIS ORTGIES  *  MISHU BRAVE BEAR  *  GÖKHAN TATCHOUOP  *  DESOCIALIZED KID  *  WIND DIGGER  *  SABIÇ  * JUAN  * DEAL  *  LUCY TARANTULA  *  TEXAS HOLD ME  *  SOUTHSIDE DRILL ASSASIN  *  SHAWN  *  JAMMED JAY  GANGSTAPOETS THCO  *  TIMMY ROTTEN  *  PLATIN ZIPPO  *  WORLDWIDE WAGGING  *  ZOMBIE NEIGHBOR *  BUTCH  *  KWAME'S LOST SON  *  TRANCE24/7  * JIMMY  *  JOSE, FELIPE & CATHERINE  * LAST OPTION PHIL  *  KIAN  *  MAX NEWMAN  *  MAGIC GOON
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Jul 28, 2021
Jul 28, 2021 at 8:12 AM UTC
Creation 96
Toss away sheltering umbrella, Seek to samba triumphant in the rain. Edit dramatic doldrums from the novella, Relate an easy tongue of the urbane. Call a friend as helpful lifeline, Castle Queenside for defense, Debate the speed of light with Einstein, Let love be your sixth sense. Swim out through the breakers, Surf the hurricane back home, Reject the quackery of fakers, Let rain cloud be your geodesic dome. Vilify politics of standstill, Wink the lowlands of the moon. Pitch an idea to the gristmill, Sing impromptu to typhoon.
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Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 5:17 PM UTC
Learning to Dance in The Rain
She was independence An importance Born Mostly from the highland Her climate exceeds on the equator Beauty beyond the Amazon Basin Which no one can resist A woman whom I loved In the tropical rain forrest Arousing so abundantly Her sources superlative But largely unexploited An ethnic mixture The vitality of her arts Owes so much The Samba we showcase Thriving with crafty influence Her language craving To charm my heart As time expired A woman with cultural succession Leaving her But feeling breathless My lady Brasilia As I depart From the lovely beaches Of Rio de Janeiro Her remembrance Carving our Samba love
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Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 10:13 PM UTC
Losing My Lovely Brasilia
I smell burning lights of neon and blue. It's Christmas, they say. Inkblots have formed their own sentences, helping me write. In the midst of this slow night, I swear I am right. And I pull Kafka from the shelf because I want to hear him talk. I am my own vermin, and we can be random together. I love you Kafka, I say. I love you. Kafka. I love you. Shall we dance despite your limbs? Samba's playing, I am left staring at you then back at him, and right back at you, right where you stood tiptoeing as you reach the topmost corner of the cupboard. You know I never hide any can of insecticide, Kafka, because I get it, you'll wither. But I love you, Kafka, I say. I love you. Kafka. I'm a bit colorful with a drag of dirt. I'm a bit Spanish when I shake my hips. I turn French right before midnight. I lose sight and might when the clock chimes two in the afternoon - I become just by looking at you. Because I love you Kafka, I say. I love you. Kafka. I.
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
A vermin stings
Dawn casts her long line for spring Days linger to catch the angel irises bloom Enveloped by early chirping chitter-chatter Lightly crusted sleep argues for lids to remain closed Black perking wake-me oil makes a strong cups case for compromise A nudge to join the living - On negotiated terms - Somewhere between another dream and lavender bubbles The contract will begin Foggy feet shuffle onto the wheel Spying steps creak tattle-tale floorboards alerting all on the way Pleading thoughtfulness You beg for silence as the Ra room comes into view Brightly checkered yellow-brown mustard window patterns Cut diagonal boxes across maple hardwood Stained glass dots of emerald, violet, and red raspberry Dance on lemon washed walls as they turn and wink for a smile Your morning chair sets at the edge of the warming sun pond inviting you Join them You listen to the ripples of space Your cushioned dock perfectly positioned for a loving embrace You sit And slowly dip legs into the glowing pool Drenched limbs cocoon in the heavy webbing of golden rays Bathing The chickadees celebration is known Immersed Lids succumb to the orange haze The Girl from Ipanema sings Young and lovely You feel wonderful No risk of drowning here... Only in happiness One radiating breath Before the Samba plays again © 2019 MJL
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Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 2:38 AM UTC
Sun Pond
between wrinkled sheets and a week in september, her voice swims through my dreams, a misty fusion of exotic blues, samba and a tropical breeze from rio; smitten by the  melody, dripping promises of ****** delights, lazy  days and long steamy nights, I plunged in, arms of impulse, ***** of steel, eager for a spin  on her heavenly wheels; and my head's been spinning ever since, stuck in a vortex of blissful regret, memories I'll never forget, of that tropical breeze from rio.. ~ P (#PabloATBFR) (8/17/2013)
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Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
A Tropical Breeze From Rio
Writing is the frozen music of an ellipsis, the silent song of a lonesome poet who sings in the dark among howling winds crossing swords in the white shades of unseen things - a winter on the Pole on whose  obverse side there's Rio, and the Sun, and the Samba and the revenge of the color. © Lazhar Bouazzi, May 31, 2016; revised, August 5, 2016
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Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
Writing
Responsibilty I dance away from thee Why can't you just let me be Escape with some poetry and voy age for free A void created my feet elated As the A-Voy Dance is celebrated We all know this game As we tango with shame Find something to blame Time went and now came Tax day approaches Conscience coaches mind scatters like roaches A Voy Dance encroaches Merengue away my tasks Sip from all of life's flasks Eye's wide shut with masks Sick again? your boss asks Avoid dance, and die in a box No Samba dancing underground Alive I feel richer than fort Knox Lost but now A Voy dance is found...
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Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 3:02 PM UTC
A Voy... Dance
Baby why you hit me up At three am? Greet me with a lazy sup And break my heart Oh Darling did you think this through Darling didn't you know I'd miss you And for all this time I thought we'd still be in love All this time I thought we'd never be done But life carries on And now I can do things I couldn't do before I can pick my nose And slam the door You may not be here But I still can breathe You may not be near But I am still me So I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore Got my mind on an electric buzz Got me drunk on a dizzyin' high I'm spinning dusk to dawn And I'll forget we'd ever said hi So I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore Oh, anymore Baby you took my heart Ripped it apart And I'm just pickin' up the parts Part of me wishin' that we'll be together Another part knowing that we shall never speak again But now you can do things That you want to do Hit up that girl You'd always talk to Hope she eat you well Like I use to Hope she is just as good As I was to you Still, I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore
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Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 12:42 AM UTC
Dancin' On My Own
Baby why you hit me up At three am? Greet me with a lazy sup And break my heart Oh Darling did you think this through Darling didn't you know I'd miss you And for all this time I thought we'd still be in love All this time I thought we'd never be done But life carries on And now I can do things I couldn't do before I can pick my nose And slam the door You may not be here But I still can breathe You may not be near But I am still me So I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore Got my mind on an electric buzz Got me drunk on a dizzyin' high I'm spinning dusk to dawn And I'll forget we'd ever said hi So I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore Oh, anymore Baby you took my heart Ripped it apart And I'm just pickin' up the parts Part of me wishin' that we'll be together Another part knowing that we shall never speak again But now you can do things That you want to do Hit up that girl You'd always talk to Hope she eat you well Like I use to Hope she is just as good As I was to you Still, I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore
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