Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Em MacKenzie Nov 2018
A tango of two souls
and they’re dancing in the stars.
She spins around and down black holes
while my left foot backs onto Mars.
A tango of two hearts
they waltz back and forth within the flame,
each forgot their parts
but they carry on the same.

Two to tango, two for tea,
it’s a sad truth but I’m feeling that three is company.
Two to tango, two eyes to see,
I’m surrounded fully but I’m completely lonely.

A tango of two souls
and they’re dancing in the dark,
hiding all their freckles and moles
unaware they’re simply just a mark.
A tango of two hearts
they waltz back and forth within the flame,
subsequently all ends with all that starts,
and we’re just shuffling the blame.

Two to tango, two for tea,
it’s a sad truth but I’m realizing I’m not who I used to be.
Two to tango, two eyes to see,
the horizon is in the distance but the sun is lacking.

Hearts hold no dancing shoes
but mind hears only song,
against both I must refuse
both choices equally right and wrong.
I would see all distance erased
and forms pressed tight together,
but the beat is too fast paced;
I swear next opportunity I will do better.

Two to tango, two for tea,
it’s a sad truth but I’m accepting I fail to view clearly.
Two for tango, two eyes to see,
that I was never cut out for this type of dancing.
David W Clare Jan 2015
Shadows dance on subway walls
Through crowded bars and pachinko halls
I came equipped for fun and play
You dont have to tip but boy you pay

The night runs deep when you miss the train
After this trip you're never the same
I fell into forbidden zones
Ancient temples turned into internet shops dial for *** to her cellular telephone

Step to the beat invent your own way
If you can't dance you've got two left feet
What's the difference let your hair down its time to play and dance the...

Tokyo Tokyo Tango oh no no no
Don't dance the...
Tokyo Tokyo Tango oh no no no

Down the street there's a ceremony on
It's a cinch when the pink lights on till dawn
Get to grips with a ancient kind of street dance
Kissing cherry lips or grape or mango
Do every dance but NOT the Tokyo Tango

Tokyo Tokyo Tango oh no no no
Tokyo Tokyo Tango oh no no no

Zakuza dance

Tokyo Tokyo Tango oh no no no
Tokyo Tokyo Tango oh no no no


D. Clare

written in Tokyo
"Tokyo Tango" available at...
Apple iTunes
David John Clare
ghost queen Apr 2020
It was getting dark when I exited the Port d’Orleans metro station. The cold air hit me instantaneously, seeping in between my clothes and skin. I tighten my long coat around me, readjusted my back pack, and pulled out my phone to confirm the address of Tango à Paris. It was only two blocks north of where I was standing.  

It was my first date with Séraphine. I had suggested dinner. She suggested something less formal, a bit more active, how about tango, explaining her studio gave a hour long introduction before the milonga. I agreed, as I had taken a year of tango, and felt confident I could keep up, maybe even impress her.

I’d wondered how she kept her 5 foot 8, 130 pound-ish physique, swimmer lean, and now I knew, she was a dancer.

I liked this part of Paris, the 14th arrondissement, L’Observatoire, clean, tidy, having the look and feel of a Nordic city like Olso or Stockholm. The sidewalks were full of interweaving professionals, eager to get out of the cold, the drizzle, and home to their loved ones.  

I walked up L’Avenue du Général Leclerc till I got to No 119. I pressed the buzzer and heard back, “oui.” “I am here for the milonga,” I said. The door buzzed, I pushed it open, entering a small foyer with sign pointing up a staircase to the first floor. I could hear the muffed sound of music and feel the movement of bodies dancing upstairs.

I climbed the curved wrought iron staircase, the old wooden stairs creaking softly with every step. I saw the studio immediately: two traditional French doors swung open, exposing a gymnasium like dance studio, with clean, golden yellow oak hardwood floor. Men and woman dancing, swinging and spinning about.

I entered the studio, paused, and looked around. At the far of the room was the DJ, sitting at table, with two loud speakers on stands pumping out music at just the right volume: loud enough to feel the music, low enough to talk your partner without having to scream in her ear.  

To my left, people gathered around a table. I walked over, they were writing their names with a felt tip pens on self adhesive name tags and placing it on their chest. A woman turned around and smiled at me. “Bienvenue,” she said, “I’m Jolene.” and extended her hand. “I am Damien”, I replied, shaking her hand politely. “Is this your first time here,” she asked. “Yes,” I replied, “I am waiting on a friend, Seraphine.”

“Mais oui,” she replied with a smile, “she is one of our best dancers, talented, if not gifted.” Her head turned slowly towards the doors, my eyes following.

In the door stood Seraphine, wearing a spaghetti strap, damask black on maroon tango midi dress, slit high up her right tigh. Her shoes, opened toe, black thin strap heels, showing off her matching blood red toe and finger nail polish and lipstick. Her eyelashes thick, black, eyelids smoked dark, giving her the stereotypical look of a femme fatale tango dancer.  She was gorgeous, seductive, awe inspiring, like Bouguereau's The Birth of Venus. How could a man resist such a siren. She was goddess among women.

She walked over to us, said, “Bonsoir Madame,” and kissed Jolene
twice on the cheeks (faire la bise) as is customary among Parisian friends, then  turned to me, touched her cheek to mine, making the mwah, kissing sound.

I was intrigued. The kiss implied no longer an acquaintance, but in her inner circle of intimacy. It had subtle implications that set my mind racing about the meaning; it was also maddening, like trying to see a completed jigsaw puzzle while only holding one of a thousand pieces.

“Ca va,” she asked, bypassing the formal “comment vas-tu” greeting. “Ca va bien,” I replied. “Your dress is stunning,” I said. “Thank you,” she replied, with confidence.

She sat down, ruffled through her bag, and pulled out ecru opened toe tango shoes. I couldn’t help notice her feet, delicate, feminine, absolutely exquisite. I also couldn’t help noticing her tigh, exposed through the slit of her dress.

Before she could get up from the chair, an older man approached, extended his hand, which she accepted. She stood up, looked me in the eyes, and said, “it is rude to refused a dance when asked.” They walked to middle of the floor and started to dance to a slow, sultry, Spanish guitar piece. I sat down and watched. She didn’t just dance, she pranced, shook, and swayed her hips as only an accomplished Latin dancer could. It was amazing to watch.

The music repeated, slowed, and concluded. They walked off the dance floor, to the beverage table, topped with a variety of multicolored bottles of wine. He poured two glasses, offered her one, as they talked, she smiled and occasionally laughed. He bowed his head slightly, touched her upper arm, and walked away, as a cortina started.

Seraphine poured more wine in her glass and poured another glass, walked to me, and offered it. I took it, deliberately touching her hand as I did. She sat down, crossed her legs, the dress sliding aside, exposing her tigh, and asked me, “do you dance monsieur.” “Yes, mademoiselle,” I replied, as a new tanda of spanish guitar played. She stood up, extended her hand. I took it, stood up, and lead her to the middle of the floor, dodging couples along the way.

“Tango”, I asked. “Yes,” she replied. I move in close, wrapped my right arm across her back, pressing her body tight against mine, extending my left arm out in position, palm open. She carefully placed her hand in mine, her forefinger on my thumb, her thumb on the radial artery on wrist, as if feeling my pulse. It struck me as odd and was curious as to why.  She’d done it in a such a methodical way.

Her hands were warm, soft, supple, dewy. She closed her grip and waited for me. I swayed gently to the beat of Tango D’Amor by Bellma Cesepedes, as she rhythmically matched my body. I stepped back on my right foot, holding her tight, bringing her with me, then left,  then forward. My chest pressing into hers. My leg brushed against her tigh as I moved, slow, slow, quick, quick, slow of the basic 8 count. I paused for a second, for her to cross then pushed forward, slowly turning to avoid couples.

I sensed her body heat, felt the wetness of perspiration on her back, smelled the earthiness of her scent. She radiated animal magnetism. I couldn’t, nor wanted to resist her. I knew I was a moth, she the flame.

New music started to play, Fuego Tango by Athos Bassissi, a traditional fast staccato accordion piece with a distinct beat for walking, turning, and swaying. I placed my my hand between her shoulders. I couldn’t feel a strap. She wasn’t wearing bra. It felt intimate, seductive, only a thin layer of cloth between us.

She pulled her head back, looked at me in the eyes, and said, “Tighter, I need to feel you, your body, your moves, so I can respond to your body.” I wrapped by arm completely around her, pulling her tight against my me. My primal urges welled up. I wanted her, to kiss her, to protect her,  to provide for her, have and raise kids with her. I felt stronger, more powerful, like a man. I wanted her in my life before she disappeared forever.

She placed her forehead on my temple. I rocked back and forth catching the beat, stepping backwards with my right, and we started to dance, slow, slow, quick, quick, slow, in a vertical expression of horizon desire.

Bending my knee, sliding forward, my chest pressing against hers, pushing, stopping, shifting, subtly twisting, I signaled a backward ocho. I waited for her, than slide to the left bring her with me, waited for her to pivot then slid right, bringing her with me, then waited for her to center. I walked forward, stopped, signalling for her to cross. I waited for the beat then finished my eight step basic.

I could feel her breath on my cheek, fast, hot; felt her breathing, her chest rising, falling sensuously. She felt good in my arms, as right as rain. I liked holding her, feeling her so close to me.

I started an eight step, stopping at the cross, signaling her to move right in preparation for a scada. As she moved, I stepped between her legs, pivoting her and me 180 degrees, repeating the step 3 times, bringing her back to cross, and finishing the step.

I heard her audibly exhale, relaxing in my arms. She was giving up control, learning to trust, surrendering to me. And I, was one with her, nothing else mattered, all else had disappeared. I was in a state of deep mediation. She was the now and forever.

The music stopped, I looked at her, noticed the glow in her cheeks, felt the warm moistness on her back. But most of all, I noticed her dilated pupils. The glowing sapphire blue of her eyes, replaced by a fathomless blackness, which I fell into.

She looked into my eyes with a gentleness, a knowing, and smiled. A new piece started, Rain, by Kantango, clean, crisp, staccato. I moved, walked, slid, in step with the beat, losing myself in the sensuality of the music and the movement of the dance.  I pressed her tight against my chest, sliding forward, rock stepping backward, holding her tighter as I did a single axis spin. I heard her sigh in my ear and felt her body relax. I slid forward to the staccato rhythm, dramatic, forceful, almost charging.

I stopped and lean to my left. She extended her right leg back, and planeo-ed as I walked her in a circle, side-by-side rock, then to neutral. She tighten her hold, pressing me into her chest, her touch telling me so much, screaming her arousal.

I slid forward, to the side, staring an 8 count to the cross, going into a backward ocho, I shifted my weight, taking her into a moulinette, twisting to the right then to the left, as she elegantly danced around me, back to 5 to complete our 8 count.

I was no longer thinking, just feeling, one with the music, lost in the sensuality, in a type of bliss. I walked forward then back, turning her to the right. To my surprise, she extended her left leg, whipping it across the floor, then back, wrapping it around my leg, slowly sliding her calf up my leg, then unwinding to neutral. I walked forward, she spun around, and slowed her walk. My body colliding, pressing into her’s as we slowly stopped. She turned her face towards mine, raising her hand, touching my face, my cheek, gently turning, bringing it towards her’s, towards her lips. Just as we were going to kiss, she turned her face, my face plunged into her hair, the back of her neck. I could smell, Poison by Dior. I kissed the back of her neck, squeezing her slightly, as she moaned ever so slightly.
Cuando tango la zampoña
cuando tango el sacabuche,
jamás pienso en quien me escuche
ni en quien me allane la moña. 1
Y así la zampoña taño, 2
pizzico así la vihuela
cantando mi cantinela
como trovero de antaño...

Yo no pienso en quién me escuche.
Yo no pienso en quien me loe
ni en quien el talón me roe
cuando tango el sacabuche,
cuando soplo en el obóe,
cuando tango la zampoña.

Ni en buscar el sortilegio
-con glisado tal o arpegioque
embelece a daifa o doña,
cuando tango el sacabuche...
Cuando soplo en el obóe,
cuando soplo en la dulzaina,
no pienso en boina ni en vaina;
ni en Burdeos o en Borgoña
cuando tango la zampoña-

Cuando soplo en la dulzaina
y si percuto el adufe
no pienso en que vozne o bufe
ni el cretino ni el tontaina
ni el doctorado en Lovaina.
Cuando tango la zampoña,
si pizzico en la bandurria
no me importa ni la murria
que me enerva y emponzoña.

Cuando tango el sacabuche,
cuando raspo el bandolín
ni cuando froto el violín,
yo no pienso en quien me escuche.

Si resoplo en el fagote,
si taño la cornamusa,
cuando tango la zampoña,
cuando soplo en la ocarina
no pienso en daifa ni en doña
(si me alabe o me abomina,
si se enfada o se alborote...)

Si taño la cornamusa,
laude pido o doy excusa
jamás, ni a Apolo ni al zote
ni a la mismísima Musa
de alto copete o de moña,
ni a Luis de Góngora Argote,
si resoplo en el fagote,
cuando tango la zampoña.
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
She was smoked
salmon so spread
Like his creme of
the crop

Smoking hot circles
0-0 0_No-No
The points... Dots
And shoe size petite
-
The whole website
To love and honor
Whats in her moves
The private Dancer

May I never be dropped
To be overly loved  
I am not asking for more
The score more or less
can be
The greatest dancer
O yes, so many pretenders?
More spread like__

Mr ((Mayonaisemeeting
Handsomely Hellman

Falling into your
embrace Tango-Tie
I- Apple creme pie
to phone U
May I tango  4-U
Sweet lips of mango
Don't shed one tear
Listen to what is said?
 How her dance step
to be read
next year to be wed
Like your hot rods
and hubcaps near
your bed choices
To sweep me off my
feet well said
The tango soprano voices
The Hub
Rubbing my
dancer's feet his treat
Wildflower Salsa beat
Emotional dance

*The Tango*
Graphically
Cool
_ design
Contacts to sign
To his excitement
Steps are well
worth
the dividends
Drinking tapas
The fine tip of gratis
Sign sealed and
dance delivered
In an instant
dancing contract
Two bodies dance
as one__
Flaming intertwined
Brazilian Silky- hair
Mr. May-0 tango pair
Mr. Hellman
merci beaucoup

His desires came with the loop
The mixture mango scoop
May-0, not the May Day
No clouds passing
in grays
So festive never passive
Well made beaded

Peacock Miss Marrietta
The Birds of the feather
Expression of sensual faces
To impress the right man
Distinctly dressed
Explanation point
May I interject my
point__________
Tropical sandals high-point
Tango dancers have a
the certain way
The lovely maiden
Names day and age

Eyes engage contest page
He to her side fancy
May- 0  in her Prime
(Hello)
Another Day-Oh!
Don't move her dancer
days to sail away
Sea breeze perfect per day
Her fancy dancer
shoes not on
layaway
       *       *      *      
In the now a dancer
nowadays taking flight
Every day always
the dancer's way
You Amaze so blessed
Like your possessed
       *       *       *    
Titans in a blaze
How it may arise
He was dancing to her
movement ****** salsa
To her toes up to her
Tango lips amazing dips
I wrote this because I love to dance I took ballet when I was younger but the art of the tango is something to master there are some great amazing dancers I compiled this to everyone that could relate to dancing
Seven men gunned down
Two taken captive at the foot of the hills
One cooling off in the belly of the beast
Seven more buried in unmarked graves

Alpha tango, alpha tango
Black hawk is down
Do you read me
Black hawk is down

We are neck deep in enemy's line
Chances of survival are slim
More men will be bury unceremoniously
To retreat is not an option

Alpha tango, alpha tango
This is the last man standing
In the pool of his own blood
Confirm you read me

Enemy forces are advancing fast
There are few choices to make
Except to do the unthinkable
And die with the enemies

Alpha tango, alpha tango
My daughter will be one in two weeks
I wouldn't be there to buy her gifts
Grant me but this wish to give her a bundle of flowers

Tell my wife I'll die
Thinking warmly of her
Send roses to my mother
Tell her I love her till the end

Alpha tango, alpha tango
This soldier is asking your permission
To die for a just cause
Over and out!
Karapatang Ari 2016
WMSU MABUHAY ESU
DONWARD CAÑETE GOMEZ BUGHAW


Kung isa-isahin ang nangakaraan
Simula no'ng ika'y aking niligawan
Hanggang sa dumating ating hiwalayan,
Maikuk'wento ko ng walang alangan.

Unang kita palang, napaibig ako
Sa isang babae at Nimfang tulad mo;
Puso ko'y nahulog ng di napagtanto,
Siguro'y pakana ito ni Kupido.

Iyong itinanong, "Ikaw ba si Donward?"
Ako'y napatigil nang dahil sa gulat
Ako ay lumingo't ikaw ay hinarap,
Aking itinugon isang tango't kindat.

Nang ako'y lumabas na sa isang silid
Hindi ko mawari't ikaw ay nawaglit;
Ako ay nalumbay sa nasahing pilit
Ano't ang tadhana ay nagmamalupit.

Gusto ko pa namang ika'y makilala
Paanong nangyari't agad kang nawala,
Hindi tuloy kita natanong o sinta
Sa iyong pangalan na pang-engkantada.

Aking inusisa ang aking sarili:
"May pag-asa pa bang makita kang muli?
May tadhana kayang magtatagpo uli
Sa ating dalawa kahit na sandali?"

Hanggang isang araw, nang aking makita
Iyong kaibigang naglakad mag-isa
Agad kong tinanong kung ika'y nagsimba
Marahan n'yang sagot nasa tuluyan ka.

Pagkatapos niyon tinanong ko na s'ya
Sa iyong pangalan na may pagkad'yosa
Agaran niyang sagot, "Devina Mindaña,
Ang buong pangalan ng aking kasama.

Nagpatuloy kami sa pagkuk'wentuhan
Habang naglalakad sa tabi ng daan
Hanggang sa dumating ang aming usapan
Sa punto na ako ay kanyang mabuk'han.

Diretsahang tanong ay 'may gusto ka ba,
Sa kaibigan kong nanuot sa ganda?'
Sagot ko'y mistula isang tugong parsa,
Naging dahilan ko'y, 'Naku, wala! Wala!'

Imbis na makuha, siya ay natawa
At nang tanungin ko'y naging sagot niya:
"Subukan mo nalang ang ligawan siya
At baka maantig, batong puso niya.

Ni minsan ay hindi siya nagkaroon
ng isang siyota, pagkat umaambon
ang pangarap niyang gustong maisulong
ang makapagtapos at ang makaahon."

Pagkasabi niyon, ako ay nangusap:
"Diyata't parehas kami ng pangarap,
Kapwa puso namin ay nangangagliyab
Sa iisang nais na para sa bukas."

Nagpatuloy kami sa aming usapan
Hanggang sa tuluyang siya'y namaalam.
"Ako'y ikumusta sa 'yong kaibigan,"
Wika ko nang siya'y tumawid sa daan.

Nagpatuloy ako sa aking paglakad
Hanggang sa marating ang nagliliwanag
nating pamantasang nagtatahang huwad
ng dunong at puring nanahanang likas.

Nagdaan ang gabi't umaga na naman
Pagsulat ng tula'y aking sinimulan,
Yaong tulang handog sayo kamahalan
Nitong si Balagtas, Donward ang pangalan.

Ang iyong pangalan ang naiititik
Niyong aking plumang espadang matulis;
Ang tinta ay dugong may hinalong pawis
Nitong aking huli't wagas na pag-ibig.

Ngunit sa kabila, niyong aking katha
Aking nalimutan ang lahat ng bigla
Maging pangalan mo, sintang minumutya
Kung kaya't nagtanong uli ang makata.

"Siya ang babaeng aking naibigan,"
Pagkukuwento ko kay Jesang huwaran
Nang ika'y nakitang naglakad sa daan
Kasama ang dal'wa mo pang kaibigan.

At nang naguluha'y aking itinuro,
Pagkatapos niyo'y siyang aking sugo;
Si Jesang huwaran ay parang kabayo,
Ika'y sinalubong ng lakarang-takbo.

Agad kang tinanong sa iyong pangalan
Katulad ng aking naging kautusan.
Nang ika'y tawagin -- o kay saklap naman
Di mo man lang ako nagawang balingan.

Nang aking tanungin si Jesang huwaran,
Nang siya'y nagbalik sa pinanggalingan,
Kung ano ang iyong tunay na pangalan:
"Devina Mindaña," kanyang kasagutan.

Hindi lumalao't hindi nakayanan
Ng puso kong ito, ang manahimik lang;
Kaya't nagsimulang ikaw ay sabayan,
Kahit hindi pa man kilalang lubusan.

Ewan ko kung bakit ako'y tinarayan,
Gusto kong magtanong, pero di na lamang;
Sa sungit mo kasi'y baka lang talikdan
At bago aalis ay iyong duraan.

Subalit, lumipas ilang linggo't buwan
Tayo'y nagkasundo't nagkausap minsan;
Insidenteng iyo'y di ko malimutan,
Malamyos **** tinig, aking napakinggan.

Nang ako'y tanungin sa aking pangalan,
Sa telepono ko'y sagot ay Superman;
At nang mukhang galit, agad sinabihang,
"Huwag kang magalit, ika'y biniro lang."

Agad kong sinabi ang aking pangalan
Baka tuloy ako'y iyong mabulyawan:
"Si Donward po ito," sabi kong marahan,
Pagpapakilala sa 'king katauhan.

Patuloy ang takbo ng ating kuwento,
Ang lahat ng iyo'y aking naging sulo,
Sa papasukin kong isang labirinto;
Sa isang kastilyong nasa iyong puso.

Hanggang isang gabi, mayroong sayawan,
Napuno ng tao ang gitnang bulwagan;
Ang aking sarili'y hindi napigilan
Na ika'y hanapi't maisayaw man lang.

Ngunit ng matunto'y hindi nakaasta,
Ang aking nasahin ay naglahong bigla;
Imbis na lapita't dalhin ka sa gitna,
Ay hindi na lama't ako'y nababakla.

Aking aaminin ang kadahilanan,
Takot na talaga ang pusong iniwan
Na baka lang uli't ito ay masaktan
Tulad ng sa aking naging kasaysayan.

Kaya't hindi ako nagpadalos-dalos
At baka pa tuloy yaon ay mapaltos;
Ang mabulilyaso'y mahirap na unos
Nitong aking pusong may panimding lubos.

Akin pang naitanong sa isang pinsan mo
K'wento ng pag-ibig na tungkol sa iyo
At kung maaaring ikaw ay masuyo,
Naging tugon niya'y: 'Ewan ko! Ewan ko!'

"Huwag ikagalit kung ika'y tanungin,"
Sabi ng pinsan **** maalam tumingin
Di sa kanyang mata na nakakatingin,
(Kung hindi'y sa kanyang talas na loobin).

Aking naging tugon doon sa kausap,
Yaong binibining aking nakaharap:
"Hindi magagalit itong nakatapat
Hangga't ang puso ko'y hindi nagkasugat.

Pagkatapos niyo'y kanya ng sinabi
Ang ibig itanong na nangagsumagi
Sa kanyang isipang lubhang mapanuri,
Ang kanyang hinala ay ibinahagi.

"Ikaw ba'y may gusto sa kanya na lihim?
Huwag **** itago't ng hindi lusawin
Ang laman ng puso at iyong pagtingin
Ng iyong ugaling, pagkasinungaling!"

Pagkatapos niyo'y agad kong sinagot
Tanong niyang sadyang nakakapanubok
At ipinagtapat yaong aking loob
Ng walang alanga't maski pagkatakot.

"Ako nga'y may gusto sa kanya na lihim,
Subalit paanong siya'y maging akin
Gayung tingin pala'y akin ng sapitin,
Ang lumbay, ang hapdi't kabiguan man din?"

"Di ko masasagot ang 'yong katanungan,"
Naging tugon niyong butihin **** pinsan,
"Tanging payo ko lang ay pahalagahan,
Huwag pabayaa't siya ay igalang."

Aking isinunod nang kami'y matapos
Ay ang iyong ateng wari d'yosang Venus;
Agad kong sinabi habang napalunok
Yaong aking pakay at nang s'ya'y masubok.

Imbis na tugunin yaong aking pakay,
Ako'y di pinansin kung kaya't nangalay
Dalawa kong mata sa kanilaynilay
Ako'y nanghihina't puso'y nanlupaypay.

Aking iniisip sa tuwi-tuwina
Ay ang pangalan mo, mahal kong Devina;
At ang hinihiling sa bantay kong tala,
Hihinting pag-asang makapiling kita.

Kaya't hindi ako nakapagpipigil,
Iyong aking loob na nanghihilahil
Aking inihayag sayo aking giliw
Ng walang palaman at maski kasaliw.

Tandang tanda ko pa no'ng makasabay ka
Papuntang simbaha'y sinusuyo kita
Hanggang sa pagpasok ako'y sumasama
Kahit hindi alam ang gagawin sinta.

Bago nagsimula ang misa mahal ko,
Ang aking larawa'y iniabot sayo;
May sulat sa likod, sana'y nabasa mo,
Yaong pangungusap ay mula sa puso.

Di kita nakitang ako ay nilingon,
Sapagkat atens'yo'y naroong natuon
Sa isang lalaking pumasok na roon,
At sayo'y tumabi hanggang sa humapon.

At nang nagsimula'y umalis na ako,
Pagkat ako itong walang sinasanto;
Baka tuloy ako magsasang-demonyo
Sa aking nakitang katuwaan ninyo.

Hindi ko malaman kung bakit sumakit,
Nanibugho ako, ano't iyo'y salik?;
Ano nga ba ito't tila naninikip?
Lintik na pag-ibig, puso ko'y napunit!

Napaisip ako habang naglalakad
Hanggang sa isip ko'y nagkakaliwanag;
'Manibugho sayo'y hindi nararapat,'
Napatungo ako sa sariling habag.

Ilang saglit pa at akin ng pinahid
Luhang sumalimbay sa pisnging makinis
At saka nangusap ng pagkamasakit:
"Wag kang mag-alala't di ko ipipilit."

"Itong pag-ibig kong nagniningas apoy,
Nasisiguro kong hindi magluluoy;
Ngunit, kung hindi mo bayaang tumuloy,
Mas mabuti pa ang puso ko'y itaboy!"

Nang ako'y magbalik doon sa simbahan,
Sa dami ng tao'y di kita nasilayan;
Ngunit, nang tanawin sa kinauup'an,
Naroong Devina't kinaiinisan.

Nanatili ako't hindi na umalis,
Di tulad kaninang lumabas sa inis;
Ako'y umupo na at nakikisiksik,
Kahit patapos na ang misang di ibig.

Hindi ko nga ibig, pagmimisang iyon
At maging pagsamba't gano'ng pagtitipon;
Pagtayo't pagluhod di ko tinutugon,
Pagkat ako itong walang panginoon.

Araw ay lumipas mula ng masuyo,
Ika'y sinubuka't nang hindi malugo
Itong aking pusong namalaging bigo
Sa loob ng dibdib, namugang tibo.

Iyong naging tugon ay nakakapaso,
Masakit isipi't maging ipupuso;
Yaong tumatama'y animoy palaso,
Narok sa dibdib, sugat aking tamo!

Sa kabila niyo'y di pa rin sumuko,
Tanging ikaw pa rin ang pinipintuho;
Kaya't wag isiping ito'y isang laro,
Pag-ibig kong ito'y hindi isang biro.

Hanggang sa dumating gabing aking asam,
Sa lilim ng mangga, bago ang sayawan
Ay iyong inamin ang nararamdaman,
Ating tagpong iyo'y di malilimutan.

Ipinagtapat mo na ika'y may gusto,
Ngunit di matugon itong aking puso,
Sapagkat ikaw ay mayroon ng nobyo
Di mo kayang iwa't ayaw **** manloko.

Aking naging tugon sa iyong sinabi,
Ay handang maghintay at mamamalagi
Hanggang sa panahong ikaw ay mahuli,
Makita't malamang di na nakatali.

Sa mukha'y nakita, matamis na ngiti
Niyong Mona Lisang, pinta ni Da Vinci;
Ako'y natigilan ilan pang sandali,
Nang aking matanaw, gandang natatangi.

Bago pa nag-umpisa'y pumasok na tayo,
Sa hinaraya kong dakilang palasyo,
At sa lilingkuran tayo ay naupo,
Niyong maliwanag, loob ng himnasyo.

At nang magsimulang musika'y tumugtog,
Ika'y namaalam at para dumulog
doon sa bulwaga't makikitatsulok,
ng sayaw sa indak dulot ng indayog.

Bago pa marating ang gitnang bulwagan,
Ako'y sumunod na't di ka nilubayan
Hangga't di pumayag sa 'king kagustuhan
Na maisayaw ka at makasaliwan.

Lumipas ang gabi't umaga'y sumapit,
Ang araw at linggo'y tila naging saglit;
Ako'y nagtataka't biglang napaisip,
Ano at ang oras ay mukhang bumilis.

Hanggang isang gabi nang aking tanungin,
Sa iyo, o, mahal kung bibigyang pansin;
Hanggang kailan mo pagdudurusahin;
May pag-asa pa bang nadama'y diringgin?

Iyong naging sagot sa katanungan ko:
"Di na magdurusa't ngayo'y maging tayo."
Ang rurok ng saya ay aking natamo,
Lalo pa't sinabing mahal mo rin ako.

Sa kadahilanang gustong masiguro,
Aking naitanong kung iyo'y totoo;
Baka mo lang kasi ako'y binibiro,
At kung maniwala'y sugatan ang puso.

Iyong ibinalik, ating gunitain,
Doon sa manggahan 'sang gabing madilim;
Ipinagtapat mo ang iyong damdamin,
Ngunit, di nagawang puso ko'y tugunin.

Pagkat mayroon kang sintang iniibig,
Iisang lalaking namugad sa dibdib;
Di mo maloloko't iyong inihasik
Sa paso ng puso't bukirin ng isip.

Pagkatapos niyo'y sinabi sa akin,
Na ating pag-ibig, manatiling lihim;
Aking naging tugo'y 'sang tangong lampahin
Pagkat aking isip, gulong-gulo man din.

"Sigurado ka ba sa'yong naging pasya?"
Ang muli kong tanong, bago naniwala
Sayo aking mahal na isang diwata,
Yaong aking ibig at pinapantasya.

Iyong naging tugon sa aking sinabi:
"Kung ayaw mo'y huwag, di ko masisisi;
Ano pa't puso mo'y sadyang madiskarte,
Baka may iba ng pinipintakasi."

Agad kong sinabi sa iyo mahal ko:
"Ano at kay daling ikaw ay magtampo,
Nagtanong lang nama't ako'y naniguro
Baka mo lang kasi, ako'y nilalaro.

Lumipas ang gabi't umaga'y sumapit,
Unang araw natin ay lubhang mapait,
Pagkat di nakayang ako ay lumapit,
Sayo aking sinta't ewan ko kung bakit.

Ilang sandali pa't hindi nakatiis,
Sa pagkakaupo'y tumayo't lumihis
ng landas patungo kay Musa kong ibig,
pagkat aking puso'y lubhang naligalig.

Muli kang tinanong kung pasya'y totoo,
Di na mababawi't di na mababago;
Iyong naging tugon sa katanungan ko,
Pisngi ko'y hinaplos, sabay sabing 'oo.'

Kay sarap marinig, salita **** iyon,
Iisa ang punto at maging ang layon;
Para bang lagaslas ng tubig sa balon,
Ibig kong pakinggan sa buong maghapon.

Matapos ang pasko'y siyang araw natin,
Na kung gunitai'y araw na inamin,
tinugon ang puso at binigyang pansin,
at saka sinabing, ako'y mahal mo rin.

Aking gabing iyo'y narurok ang saya,
Ngiti niyong buwa'y nakakahalina;
Ibig kong isulat ay isang pantasya,
At ikaw Devina, yaong engkantada.

Araw'y nangaglipas, daho'y nangalaglag,
Ano at ang oras tila naging iglap;
Siyang araw natin ay muling lumapag,
Ano at ang panaho'y tila naging lundag.

Iyong regalo mo'y hindi malimutan,
At maging pagbating ibig kong pakinggan,
Sa bawat umagang araw'y sumisilang
At kung maaari'y mapawalang-hanggan.

Ngunit nang magdaan ilang araw't linggo,
Naging malungkuti't di na palakibo;
Puso ko'y mistula isang boteng tibo,
Nabiyak sa dusa nang itatuwa mo.

Sa tuwi-tuwina'y napaisip ako,
Talaga nga kayang tapat ang puso mo?;
Ulo ko'y sasabog, bulkang Pinatubo,
Bakit ba't isip ko'y nagkakaganito?

Ilang araw kitang hindi tinawagan,
Pagkat labis akong nagdusa't nagdamdam;
Malakas kong loob ay di nilubayan
Ng kapighatia't maging kalungkutan.

Tayo nga'y mayroong isang kasunduan,
Di maikaila't sinasang-ayunan
Ngunit, ang itat'wa'y di makatarungan,
Alalahanin **** ako'y nasasaktan.

Ako'y wag itulad sa makinang robot
Na di nakaramdam maski anong kirot;
Ako ay may pusong nakakatilaok,
Pumipintig baga'y putak ng 'sang manok.

Kaya't nang sadyain sa tinutuluyan,
Ika'y kinausap at pinagsabihang:
"Sakaling darating ating hiwalayan,
Huwag magpaloko sa kalalakihan.

At saka-sakaling sayo'y may  manligaw,
Isipin mo muna't wag agad pumataw;
Pasya'y siguruhin bago mo ibitaw,
Ang iyong salita, nang di ka maligaw."

Unang halik nati'y hindi malimutan,
At kahit na yao'y isang nakaw lamang,
Pangyayaring iyo'y di makaligtaan,
Naging saksi natin ay ang Taguisian.

Tila ba talulot ng isang bulaklak
Labi **** sa akin na nangangagtapat;
Animo'y pabango yaong halimuyak,
Ng iyong hiningang sa halik nangganyak.

Ika-labinlima, araw ng Pebrero,
Hindi malimutan ating naging tagpo;
Sa iyong tuluya'y nagkasama tayo,
Doon sa Kwek Kwekan, nagdiwang ang puso.

Ako'y isang taong lubhang maramdamin,
Ang hapdi at kirot siyang tinitiim;
Puso ko'y tila ba 'sang pagong patpatin,
Sa loob ng dibdib sakit ang kapiling.

Kaya't nang makitang may kasamang iba,
Marahang lumason sa puso ko sinta
Ay ang panibugho't sakit na nadama;
At para maglaho, alak ay tinungga.

Sa ika-tatlumpu, na araw ng Marso,
Akin pang naalala pagbisita sayo,
Sa inyong tahana't mapayapang baryo,
Nagmano pa ako sa ama't ina mo.

Ibig kong ang lahat ay di na magtapos,
Masasayang araw nating lumalagos
Sa isip, sa puso't maging sa malamyos,
Na kantahi't tulang aking inihandog.

Ngunit, nang lumipas ang ika-limang araw
mula nang makita't sa inyo'y madalaw
ay isang mensahe ang lubhang gumunaw
sa aking damdami't marahang tumunaw.

Animo'y balaraw yaong tumatama,
Nang ang mensahe mo ay aking nabasa;
Gusto kong umiyak, gusto kong magwala,
Ngunit, anong saysay gayung wala na nga?

Kung isaulan ko itong aking luha,
Masasayang lama't walang mapapala;
Kaya't kahit ibig, ako ay tumawa,
Wag lamang masadlak yaong pagdurusa.

Kung ang kalayaa'y siyang ibig sinta,
At ang saktan ako'y ikaliligaya
Aba'y payag ako't ikaw na bahala,
Basta lang ang akin ika'y liligaya.

Kay sakit isiping tayo ay hindi na,
Ngunit, kung ito man ang itinadhana,
Aba'y pag-ibig ko't pag-ibig mo sinta,
Di makakahadlang sa ibig sumila.

Mahal ko paalam sa ating pag-ibig,
Mahal ko paalam, kahit na masakit;
Mga alaala'y huwag ng ibalik,
Burahin ng lahat sa puso at isip.


~WAKAS~
Ang tulang ito ay handog ko para kay Devina Mindaña.
S Smoothie Jan 2014
Folder: Heart aesthetics


truth.

my tainted version or yours?

I cant find the reasons that I need to convince you

you cant find the words to make me understand.



I dont want to wallow in your misery, I am happy in my own

feed me more ******* and inspire me to write insipid vicious lines about you

i'll make them dance in pretty lines and force you to confess!

I will ****** you with lies and pull out my version of truth,

and you will hide from me all that you feel,

because you believe my lies are my truth revealed.



what a lovely tango!

our dance of fire and ice;

first passion and ***

cold disintrest next.



dance with me my beautiful liar

dance with the words of my song in your head

push through my curtains and find whats there

your truth or mine it seems we never care

it never mattered as much as our lovers dance

a careless tango brought to life with fierce exchanges

a slap in the face

a caress of redemption



our lies our seductions

our words are our weapons

our music is our emotion

our dance is our truth

our love, our curse.



this is our pain my fierce love,

let's dance our tango

and create our timeless verse




previous version below:





truth. my tainted version or yours?

I cant find the reasons that I need to convince you

you cant find the words to make me understand

I dont want to wallow in your misery I am happy in my own

feed me more ******* and inspire me to write insipid vicious lines about you

i'll make them dance in pretty lines and force you to confess

I  will ****** you with lies and pull out my version of truth

and you will hide from me all that you feel,

because you believe my lies are my truth.

what a lovely tango our fire and ice

passion and ***

cold disintrest next

dance with me my beautiful liar

dance with the words of my song in your head

push through my curtains and find whats there

your truth or mine it never mattered

as much as our lovers dance

a careless tango brought to life with fierce exchanges

a slap in the face

a caress of redemption

this is our seduction

our lies

this is our truth

our dance

these are our weapons

our words.

let's dance our tango

and create our timeless verse.
William A Poppen May 2014
“Except for needs I can pack everything I have 
into my old black sea-bag.”  * *

"I wish I had written that line,
I said loud enough for him to hear."

He shuffled around in his stool
and raised his cup to get  
hit with a refill.

Frustration wiggle I call it,
you know like when your dad
couldn’t let you struggle with a puzzle.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
announced his irritation
"Where have you been,
swimming shallow side?"

"I stated swatting away needs
like mosquitoes on sweat
when I was seven."

He peered past his coffee,
furrowed his brow
and rubbed his tongue
over his lower lip.

"Whiskey Tango Foxtrot,
why do you keep saying that, I asked"

"Guess you’ve never been in the military.
College man I reckin,
fancy degrees
and you don't know Alpha Zulu?"

From Alpha Zulu by Gary Lilley
Alpha Zulu in the NATO phonetic alphabet
VACUUM CLEANER TANGO

---Lyrics by Jonathan Caswell

(Some misspellings are due to rhythm keeping)



The Vac…cuum Clea…ner Tango,

Is like…a juicy…mango,

Those fi…bers will…entangle

Your teeth or brushes, pretty quick!



The girls…who do…the cleaning,

Are ev…ver so…well-meaning,

To move…around…guys leaning,

That watch…and approve…the show!



Plugs must…be changed…more frequently,

If lon…ger hallways…decently,

Are cleaned…the most…expediently,

It’s all…a part of…the dance!



The vac…cuum clea…ner tango,

A dai…ly chore…is wrangled,

By clea…ners star…spangled,

Perfor…ming it with…extra class!
Caleb Reeves May 2014
Turn the corner
Hand tenses
Looking down the iron sights I see an object fall
"Tango down" I call over the radio
what was his name? Tango, Threat, Terrorist, doesn't matter.
Explosion
Mud brick wall vaporized into dust
Keep going
Out of breathe
Keep going
Hand tenses
"Tango down"
Does it have kids? A Family? Threat eliminated
Round the corner
Hand tenses
"Three tangos on west building roof top"
Bullets from my brothers **** by my helmet
Return fire
"Take Cover!"
Sweat drenched face fogs up my goggles
Explosion
Brick pieces pummel my back
Ears ringing, faintly hearing
"Alpha down, Medic!"
Blurred vision, equilibrium thrown off
Raise my rifle
Hand tenses
Silhouette falls
"Medic!" heard faintly
Hand tenses
"Are you okay?" sounds distant
Hand tenses
"babe?" getting louder
Hand tenses

Hand tenses

Wake up
Sheets heavy with sweat
"Babe, are you ok?"
Throwing the blankets I jump back to the edge of the bed
Her frightened face
I've seen before
I look down
Hands tense
Same look, no tangos
No threats
Just Ghosts
first step

when he looks at a woman he searches for qualities that attract him because he wants to desire her yet this tendency creates an imbalance or disadvantage he is rendered weak to a woman’s beauty or whatever traits he idealizes self-realizing this propensity he looks away from women years of disappointment neglect change him he becomes afraid of women gynophobic

2

when she looks at a man she searches for qualities she is critical of because she wants to be impervious to his power she is suspicious of all men their upper body strength penchant to be in control misperception of women as property misogyny emotional immaturity neediness to be mommyed selfishness insensitivity or over-sensitivity depending she wants to be treated with equal respect a loving nurturing relationship she is suspicious of all people their alternate realities passive aggressive behavior co-dependence craziness

3

he sees her then looks away she suspiciously notices nothing happens they go back to their separate homes alone always home alone grown calm in resignation yet disbelieving of this destiny saddened by this fate both worry about future she looks at her face naked body in mirror her stomach churns feels sad sickening remembers time when she was more carefree he puts one foot in front of other then walks tries to remember who taught him to walk how many times did he fall who taught him to laugh where did his sense of humor go

4

he sees her thinks she is lovely resists the urge to turn away he smiles says hello she notices nervously smiles her shaky voice articulates louder than a whisper hi

Tucson 2-step

they are standing in line at a café on 4th avenue he is directly behind her she is lanky wearing white background faded colors patterned summer dress thin straps over bare shoulders long brown hair few gray strands small unfinished tattoo on left calf leather slip-ons 1 inch heals he is at a complete loss for words thinks to make remark about the weather decides not to overhead fan stirs hot humid July air barista girl asks what she would like her eyes scan blackboard menu behind counter she hesitates remarks help him i need an extra moment to decide he steps up to counter money in hand orders small to go Arnold Palmer half black current lays $3 on counter mentions change goes in tip jar thank you barista girl moves fast he lifts cup from counter glances at woman still deciding then at barista girl says have a wonderful day turns walks out door dawns on him woman grows hair under her arms his 2nd most compelling female physique adornment fetish oh god he thinks to himself should i wait for her to make up her mind then approach try to craft conversation at least find out her name no i’m too weak in this moment she is so lovely let her go

2

she orders double Americana in small cup to go room for soy milk thinks to herself he did greet her perhaps their paths will cross on street why did he run off so fast she glances toward front of café notices window seat changes her mind instructs barista ******* 2nd thought make it for here digs through purse realizes she left wallet in truck explains to barista girl she needs to run out to her vehicle to retrieve wallet forgotten under front seat the air on the street is heavy dense she smells her own perspiration looks north then south does not see him walks to truck feels exhausted appetiteless almost nauseous wishes she did not order a drink thinks to get behind wheel drive home go to sleep

Tucson 3-step tango

she feels disappointment by her recent writings as if she is reaching a more sophisticated audience and setting a higher standard for her work yet she is not living up to her ambitions her recent writings smell of her past writings too emotional the damaged woman wounded child she wants to write more introspectively with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence she slams her laptop shut decides to go to Club Congress for a ****** mary or margarita but Club Congress is haunted with small town cretins losers wannabes she considers Maynard’s decides Maynard’s is too safe suburban yuppyish finally gives in to thought of glass of pinot noir at Plush next comes what to wear jeans in mid-July desert heat is unacceptable perhaps loose fitting thin cotton white summer dress thin leather belt ankle high indian moccasins hair in ponytail no pigtail braids no ponytail no makeup maybe little ylang ylang oil no she thinks about her recent writings

2

i am one breath away from crying in every moment one breath away from flying m.i.a. in every moment one breath away from destroying everything there is beauty in ugliness beauty in decrepitude disease beauty in harm hurt suffering beauty in greed injustice betrayal beauty in corruption contamination pollution beauty in hate cruelty ignorance beauty in death we spend our whole lives searching for a good death we spend our whole lives searching for eternal love this modern world is too much for me over my head the horrors of this place are beyond words unspeakable voice inside maybe mom yells quit your whining or dad hollers stop complaining i am trying to smile through tears one breath away from giving in one breath away from becoming stranger to myself winter spring winter spring there is beauty in nothingness we spend our whole lives searching for ourselves learning who we are not finding grasping secrets from dark paths light trails winter spring winter spring i am one breath away

3

she sits alone at bar at Plush glass of pinot noir glass of ice water in front of her 2 bearded older men eye her from other end of bar she ignores them glances at her wristwatch tries to look like she is waiting for someone music from speakers antiquated rock standard it is early friday hours from dusk moderate middle aged crowd mingle wait for local jazz trio to begin she thinks about her recent writings wonders is it too late for love considers lesbian affair from 5 different perspectives 5 woman’s voices each describing same lesbian affair in 5 opposing accounts hmmm she sips dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water she considers a story about a gang of female bikers who ride south to Mexico

4

the Americans came through here last night crossing border illegally climbing over our fences digging tunnels beneath our barrier walls littering along their trail they travel in packs of every skin color carry guns knives explosives wear leather boots some are shirtless tattoos dyed hair mischievously smiling conceitedly stealing when in question murdering they rob our homes slaughter our chickens ransack gardens loot our harvest you can still smell the stink of their fast food breaths

5

she swallows the last dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water local jazz trio begins to play as bar fills with more people she decides to walk home one foot in front of other wonders who taught her how to walk how many times did she fall she laughs to herself

Tucson square dance

TPD 10-18 unconfirmed data report

7 post-University of Arizona female graduates go to Cactus Moon for several drinks and dancing then drive to Bashful Bandit for more drinks and dancing 2 women get into scuffle victim Brittany Garner female 23 years of age race #5 (Native American, Eskimo, Middle -Eastern, Other) 5’ 2” long black hair cut-off blue jean shorts clingy light blue top falls hits head on side of bar dies of fatal blow to skull forensics report crushed occipital lobe assailant Stacy Won female 31 years of age race #4 (Asian) 5’6” black jeans black leather jacket red helmet Honda motorcycle still at large

witness accounts

Jess Delaney female 33 years of age race #2 (White) 6’ tight black pencil skirt white sleeveless undershirt no bra 3” heels blond ponytail “that squirting little **** deserves everything she got she lied told Stacy i’m a ***** i never cheated on Brittany i don’t understand we were all having a good time getting buzzed and dancing we should never have left Cactus Moon **** Kerrie thought some biker dude might be hanging around the Bandit hell maybe the Bandit was a biker bar once but now it’s just a college sink hole full of drunken frat boys when Monique flashed a little *** they went crazy cheering and buying us shots it just got out of hand never should have happened the way it happened Stacy didn’t mean to **** Brittany it’s ****** up i want to go home please let me go home”

Sabrina Starn female 29 years of age race #2 (White) 5’8” trendy corporate gray suit black pumps red shoulder length hair “i have to be at work at 8 AM Stacy was drunk out of control she gets crazy when she drinks Brittany was trash talking pushing all Stacy’s buttons then Stacy accused Brittany of sleeping with Monique and all hell broke loose i didn’t see what happened i was in the powder room it’s a terrible tragedy unfortunate accident can i please be released i need to sleep this is madness”

Kerrie Angeles female 27 years of age race #1 (Hispanic) 5’ 6” black pants white shirt black hair cut stylishly short silver crucifix around neck red fingernails “when we got to the Bashful Bandit i was ***** soaking between my legs thinking about a cowgirl at Cactus Moon ready to **** anyone i saw fantasized pulling a train with those frat boys Monique had been kind of quiet at Cactus Moon but when we got to the Bashful Bandit she lit up dancing wild unbuttoning her top jacket Sabrina went to the ladies room to snort coke with biker dude Kerrie wanted but he wasn’t into her then Brittany started saying crazy stuff accusing Stacy of stealing Monique from Jess Jessie goes through women heartlessly she doesn’t give a **** about Monique Jessie knows if she wants Monique back she can simply fiddle a finger my guess is Stacy is half way to Argentina she never meant to **** Brittany i’m going to miss her real bad she was a good kid”

Ann Skyler female 28 years of age race  #2 (White) 4’ 11’’ green white red Mexican peasant skirt black t-shirt black high-tops hair in messy bun “i’m confused i saw them dancing laughing grinding up against each other Rage Against the Machine came on then Nine Inch Nails the room felt quaking dizzy claustrophobic then they were pushing each other shoving yelling frat boys cheering the next thing i knew Brittany was supine on the floor blood pouring out maybe she just slipped hit her head i don’t know what to think i feel real sad confused sick to my stomach scared”

Monique Smithson female 24 years of age race # 3 (Black) 5’ 9” blue jeans jean jacket cowboy boots nose ring braided pigtails “Stacy had it in for Brittany from the start i saw it in her eyes at Cactus Moon she made several clever toxic remarks they snapped at each other i never thought it would escalate to ****** poor sweet Brittany was always so susceptible i was looking down adjusting my jeans over my boots when it happened i heard felt a big thump glanced up Brittany was lying there lifeless blood spilling everywhere Stacy ran out fast i heard her bike engine take off in a hurry”

Rodeo Drive Tucson

matt’s hats tom’s tools & tobacco lou’s liquors fred’s beds frank’s planks bill’s drills jane’s drains & panes chuck’s check cashing cheryl’s barrels hank’s tanks tina’s trucks & tractors walt’s asphalt sean’s pawn rick’s rifles mom’s guns terry’s tires charlie’s harleys rhonda’s hondas jim’s rims art’s parts gus’s gasoline mike’s bikes frank’s feed gwen’s pens ann’s cans nancy’s nursery joes‘s clothes jess’s dresses bert’s skirts steve’s sleeves paul’s shawls michelle’s shells & bells al’s pails & snails sam’s hams & jams patty’s pancakes phil’s chili don’s donuts betty’s spaghetti bob’s burgers alycia’s quiches jean’s beans jerry’s berries anna’s bananas andy’s candies cathy’s taffies tony’s ponies roy’s toys kim’s whims marty’s parties jill’s pills rick’s tricks alice’s palace debbie’s disposal dave’s graves

Quinta Waltz de Tucson

she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary efforts she dreams aches to create deeper discourse higher insight more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration instead she writes paperback television trash stupid inadequate answers to solemn questions she wonders if she is too scratched dented to find love her ******* are definitely changing she is deeply disturbed not ready for menopause too young for menopause she wants to remain a fertile woman with smooth skin wet ******

2

her neighbor Leslie awoke to horrible morning Leslie’s 6 chickens were assaulted overnight precious Mabel dragged off feathers everywhere trail down the street other hens cowering slumped together with wilted necks 3 of them with puncture wounds Leslie carried them one by one inside washed their wounds hugged them cried who did this terrible act a neglected abusive neighborhood cat or some desert predator why didn’t Leslie wake to sounds of savage marauding now this creature knows hen’s whereabouts when will it return for more massacre what modifications need to be enforced to ensure their coup before nightfall

3

she wants to remain a hen keep producing eggs does not want is not ready to enter the next **** stage of this **** existence it was fun being pretty for men inspiring them to say do whacky things she wants to remain a hen she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary attempts “Tucson square dance” (self-referential) ****** bit about Americans came through here last night in “Tucson 3-step” ****** "Rodeo Drive" tepid perhaps the pinot noir lowered her standards everything is becoming nothing she cannot sleep tosses turns thrashes sheets in humid heat of her lonesome bed is she is too scratched dented to find love she worries for Leslie

4

tomorrow is another day they say the rain will come last year’s monsoon never came the baking sun smothered her garden died one by one sleepless she will miss tomorrow’s pilates class the infrequent delightful chatty breakfast afterwards she dreams aches of deeper discourse higher insight with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration she crossed the line tonight her ******* are definitely changing

Tucson 666

he decides to shave eighth to quarter inch length salt and pepper beard a.k.a. unshaven look he has worn for years and grow full mustache the whiskers on his upper lip are darker with sparse gray at first no one notices after weeks the mustache gradually fills evoking many contrasting remarks several women loath it several men admire it girl at grocery store suggests he grow Fu Manchu so she can tug on it shopgirl says he looks like Charlie Chaplin downstairs neighbor from Turkey explains most Turkish men traditionally wear mustaches he read mustaches masculinize and empower men especially men in authoritative positions he thinks back to the 1960’s when many hippie males grew mustaches then in the 70’s gay men fashioned mustaches then in the 80’s cops adopted mustaches he wonders why a swatch of hair beneath nose is so provoking examines his visage in mirror discerns the mustache confers a Pepé le Pew quality or European accent to his appearance he remembers when he was young hippie with many amorous episodes how his mustache preserved the scent of a woman but there are no women in his life for many years do post-menopausal women possess scent? he feels indecisive whether to retain it or be rid of it

2

she observes her figure in mirror thinks to herself maybe her ******* are not changing perhaps it’s all in her head she inspects the little lines forming near her eyelids studies her features for signs of aging hardly any silver strands in long brown hair she examines neck ******* arms elbows fingers tummy hips pelvic region thighs knees shins calves ankles feet detects subtle changes thinks to herself my ******* are possibly slightly changing turned 40 in March married briefly in late teens no children a 15 year old dog beginning to suffer veterinarian promises to warn her when the time comes she wonders why it is so difficult finding fitting mate men sleep with her several times then move on maybe she is not such a great lover perhaps she would be better if one of them stuck around perhaps she is a lesbian the whole ide
jake aller Dec 2019
Snarling Cup of Coffee    




I like to start my day with a hot cup of coffee
I pound down the coffee
First thing I do every day
as the dawning sun
Lights up my lonesome room

Yeah, but not just a simple cup of java Joe, but a ******* snarling sarcastic smarmy cup of coffee

I mean, - we are talking about an alcoholic, all speed ahead, always hot, always fresh, always there when I need it, angry, attitude talk to the hand Ztude, bad, bad assed, beats breaking, beatnik, bluesy, bitter, ******, bombs away, capitalistic, caffeinated up the ***, cinematic, communistic, Colombian grown, Costa Rican inspired, Cowabunga to the max, crazy assed, devilishly angelic, divine, divinely inspired, dyslexic, epic, extreme vetting, evil eye, expensive, ****** vision inducing, Ethiopian coffee house brewed, euphoric, freaky, freazoid, foxy, Frenched kissed, French brewed, funkified, foxy lady, graphic, GOD in my coffee, with Allah, Ganesh, Jesus, Kali, Buddha, Christians, Durga, Hindus, Mohamed, Jesus and Mo and their friend, the cosmic bar maid, Sai Babai, Shiva, Taoists,

Zoroastrians, drinking my god ****** coffee in Hell;

growling, gnarly, happy, hard as ice, Hawaian blessed, high as a kite, hippie, hip, hipster, hip hoppy, hot as hell yet strangely sweet as heaven, jazzy, jealous, Kerouac approved, kick ***, kick my ******* *** to Tuesday, kick down the doors and take no prisoners, grown in the Vietnam highlands by exVietcong, Guatemalan grown, kiss ***, illegal in every state, imported from all over the ******* world,

insane, lovely, loony, lonely, lonesome, malodorous mean old rotten, *******, nasty, narcotic, never whatever, never meh, never cold, not approved by the CIA, not approved by DHS, not approved for human consumption by the FDA, not your daddy’s sissified corporate cup of coffee, NOT DECAFE coffee, not your Denny’s truck driver weak as brown water cup of fake coffee, not your establishment friendly cup of coffee, Not your FBI coffee, Not FAKE Herbal coffee substitute, but a real cup of coffee, not your farmer brothers dinner crap, not made in America for Americans, not safe for work, not your Starbucks average expensive overpriced ****** corporate chain cup of coffee, Not pretentious, Not White House approved, not State Department safe, nuclear, Not Patriotic, operatic, Peets’s coffee approved,

paranoid, pornographic, psychotic, pontific, politically aware, rapping, rhyming, right here, right now in River city, rock and roll up the Yazoo, sad, sadistic, sarcastic, sassy, satanic, schizoid, *******, silly, ****, smarmy, smelly, smooth, snarky, snarling, stupid, stinking, sweet as honey, sweat inducing, symphonic, Trump can’t handle this coffee, vengeful, Wagnerian, wicked, with nutmeg and cinnamon swirls, with a hint of stevia, with a hint of vanilla, with a hint of ***, with a hint of whisky, with a hint of cherry, with a hint of fruit overtones, with a hint of drugs spicing up the coffee, spendific, speeding, splendid, superior accept no substitutes, survived the Vietnam war, the Iraq war, the Afghan war, the first and Second Korean war, World War 11, the war on poverty, the war on drugs, the war on black people, the ****** revolution,

Soulful as a summer’s night in MOTOWN- James Brown approved, TOP approved, Berkeley approved, the coffee that Jimmy Hendrix drank before he died, the coffee that Elvis drank on his last breakfast, the coffee that Barry White crooned as he drank his cup of coffee – and the coffee that made the white boy play stand up and play that funky music, the coffee that made Jonny B Goode play his guitar, and made Jonny bet the devil his soul after he drank his morning cup of righteous coffee and the coffee that make the Rolling Stones Rock and Roll, the coffee your mother warned you against drinking, the coffee that Napoleon drank when he became the Emperor of all Europe, the Coffee that Beethoven drank when he wrote the Ninth symphony, the coffee that Mozart drank as he wrote his last symphony, the coffee that Lincoln drank before he was killed, the Hemingway drank before he killed himself, the coffee that started the 60’s, and ended the 20th century,

the coffee that Lenin drank as he plotted revolution, the coffee that ****** and Stalin drank with FDR as they divided up the world after World War 11, the cup that JFK drank before he was blown away, the coffee Jerry drinks while driving in cars with random celebrities and political figures, the coffee that Jon Stewart drinks before he goes on an epic take down of some foolish politico, the cup of Arabic coffee that Sadaam drank the day he was executed, the coffee that GW and Cheney drank when they bombed Baghdad, the Indian cup of coffee that Bid Laden drank before 9-11 and just before the seals blew his *** to hell, the cup of coffee that Tiger Woods drank with his mistresses while playing a 3, 000 dollar round of golf at Sandy Lane golf course in Barbados, the last legal drug that does what drugs should do, the cup of coffee that Obama drank when he became President, Vietnamese, Vienna brew, wacky, whimsical,

Whisky Tango Foxtrot, wild, weird, wonderful, WOW, Yabba dabba doo! Yada Yada yada Zappa’s favorite cup of cosmic coffee, and Zorro’s last cup of coffee, Good to the last drop rolled into one simple cup of hot coffee   
As I pound down that first cup of coffee
And fire up my synaptic nerve endings with endless supplies
Of caffeine induced neuron enhancing chemicals

I face the dawning day with trepidation and mind-numbing fear
I turn on the TV and watch the smarmy newscasters in their perfect hair

Lying through their perfect blazing white teeth
about the great success the government is having
Following the great leader's latest pronouncements

I want to scream
and shoot the TV
and run out side

Shouting
Stop the world!
I want to get
off this ******* crazy planet"

The earth does not care a whit
about my attitude problem

It merely shrugs
and moves around the Sun
In its appointed daily run

the universe whispers
in my ear
time to drink more coffee
for an attitude adjustment

And I sit down
The madness dissipating a bit
And enjoy my second cup
Of heaven and hell
In my morning cup of Joe

Coffee Revolutions



coffee cup
Coffee led to the American Revolution<span
As patriots drank coffee
To rebel against
the aristocratic English tea

Coffee started the London Stock Market
And started the gossip mills running
Every great invention
Was fed by coffee's sweet brew
sweet allure

All the great thinkers
All the great leaders
All were enslaved
to coffee's magic

I sing my praises
Of the great
glorious coffee lady

Long may she continue
To be my sweet companion

Long may coffee continue
To rule my heart
And set my heart
on fire

Ode to Coffee



Mistress of sacred love
Sacred lady of desire

You start my day
Setting my heart on fire
With your dark delicious brew 

And throughout the day
Whenever the mean old blues come by
You chase them away

With your bittersweet ambrosial brew
Every time I inhale your witch's brew

I am filled with power, light and love
And everything is al right Jack
If only for a few fleeting minutes

I love you oh coffee goddess
In all your magical forms

In the dark coffee of the dawning day
In the sizzling coffee in the mid morning break
In the afternoon siesta break
And in the post dinner desert drink

I love you my coffee mistress
You are my refuge
From this horrid world

And you are my secret lover
Never disappoint me, ever
I've never had a bad cup
Of that I can be sure

Even the dismal coffee
Served at Denny's at 3 am
Is still sweet loving coffee

Even the farmer brother's diner coffee
Excites me and gets me going
Asking for another cup of divine delight

Coffee always is there
It is always on and piping hot
With hidden dark secrets
Swirling in its liquid essence

Coffee is my last vice
My only legal vice left

Coffee does not cheat on me
It is always faithful, always true
It does not turn on its friends

And all it asks in return
Is that you come back
Cup after cup after cup

A good cup of coffee
Is a little bit of heaven
In a cup of dark liquid hell

Coffee is like a drug
But a good drug that does what is should
And never complains

It does not get grouchy
It does not hurt you

It does not make you crazy
But allows the muse to come out
And play with it

Coffee led to the American Revolution
As patriots drank coffee
To rebel against the aristocratic English tea

Coffee started the London Stock market
And started the gossips mills running

Every great invention
Was fed by coffee's sweet brew
sweet allure

All the great thinkers
All the great leaders
All were enslaved to coffee's magic

Yeah
I sing my praises
Of the great glorious coffee lady

Long may she continue
To be my sweat companion

Long may coffee continue
To rule my heart
And set my heart on fire

I love thee
Mistress coffee
And sometimes I think
You love me too

No More Coffee Blues








I love coffee
Always have

And coffee has loved me back
But lately I have soured on her
Soured on the whole coffee scene

On the harshness
of the morning brew
And the promises it makes

As I sip of its nectar
Drawn into its lair

Drinking drop by drop
As the caffeine takes over

Rewriting my every nerve
Turning me into a slave
For its perverted pleasure

Yes I love coffee
But I am afraid

Coffee is a harsh mistress
Demanding so much of me

Promising the sun
And delivering the moon

As I drink her swill
Deepening under her influence

I have the coffee blues
Can’t live without her
Can’t live with her

I try
But tea does not cut it
Not really

***** does not do it
At least not in the morning

Yoga is not enough of a buzz
Nor is the runner’s high

And I am afraid deadly afraid of *******
And speed and drugs and energy drinks

And so I remain a slave to coffee
My only legal drug

As I sip another
and fall under
her seductive spread

Once more failing my resolve
To skip coffee for that day
That morning that moment

I shall never be free of her spell
Ever and she knows it
As she beckons me
Every morning with her intoxicating smell

And I come to her
and drink her brew

And become her slave
again and again

Coffee Ya Du





must drink coffee
have every day
the morning dawns
drinking my coffee as I yawn

Morning cup of coffee 



every morning
I drink my coffee
as I contemplate 
the dawning day

watching the news anchors
blather on and on
drinking my coffee
thinking of life

and my coffee
consumes me
overwhelms me
and at time controls me

after all coffee is a drug
and I am her slave
from time to time

Drinking Coffee in the Morning



in the morning
dangerous mood
felling deranged
watching the news

trigger warning
you are ******* dude
end of the world
the end times come

I drink coffee
in the morning



Coffee *** Killed





His wife has banned my use
by my owner
says he makes too much
of a mess when he uses me

it is not his fault
I want to say
but being a coffee ***
can not speak

and so I am abandoned
thrown out into the trash

and feel very sad
for my owner

who was my friend
he liked me

he keep me going
and I did my job

providing him
with fresh coffee

doing my coffee *** duty
and now it is over

Drinking My Coffee


drinking coffee

drinking my coffee
early in the cool morning
thinking life is fine

everything will be okay
after I drink my coffee

morning coffee



morning coffee

dawning sun 











coffee MGur Poem


coffee

I pray to the coffee gods
every cup of coffee
is like a sacrament to me

I pray as I drink my coffee
that it will fill me
with wisdom

and find peace
with my coffee

as I drink
my devotion

Hot coffee


cup of coffee


take coffee with you
Hot hot coffee, makes my day -

Must drink My daily coffee, as the morning dawns - 

With out my morning coffee

in me,  I feel nothing at all -

Electrified Hot Coffee



coffee is the drug of choice
nothing else will do it
as I drink coffee
Electrified
Hot Coffee

Hot Coffee and Cake


coffee
coffee is the drug of choice
electrified circuits
as I drink coffee
coffee and cake



Coffee Patina



coffee
hot coffee
hot Hellish Heaven
Essence of coffee
the rest of the coffee poems can be found at
Meg B Jun 2014
One of my favorite hobbies
is watching people
on the train.
Some on their
daily commute,
dressed in suits,
hurriedly sipping
coffee,
checking their
wrists with
frequency,
ensuring they
arrive not even a
minute late.
So many,
myself included,
travel along to
their own
soundtracks,
earbuds helping
them to tune out
the cabin noise
around them.
Bodies swaying
back and forth,
movement in sync,
limbs dancing
the train's tango,
left, right,
forward, and back,
and for the encore,
we all jolt and jive hard
as the wheels
screech to a stop
halfway down the
green line.
Marshal Gebbie Apr 2013
By amber light we sit here in this scintillating evening
By amber light we wonder at the treasures of the night,
Enraptured by the shimmer of the highlights in the wavelets
Across the bay the music plays to thrill us with delight.

Moving to the rhythm of a tango in the moonlight,
Feeling the sinuating warming run inside
Start the steps in synchro to the pulsing of our swaying
Roll the eyes in fun as we let our bare feet glide.

Shimmer on the wavelets in the balmy air of evening
Kaleidoscope reflection of refractions of the night,
Titilating trumpets to the pulsing of the conga drums
We meld our hips together in our tango's rich delight.

By amber light  luxuriate as long as night’s forever
We’ve felt the brush of loving in a tangled, close perspire,
We’ve danced the dance of romance in these luscious shades of evening
To be happy and  exhausted in a bubble of desire.*


Marshalg
In the magic of the peaceful night and the waters’ beautiful, shimmering shades.
Manou’s Harbourside Restaurant
Port Taranaki, NZ.
9pm 1 April 2013
Afrodita Nestor Sep 2014
When we are together
Just me and you
I imagine we are dancing tango

Shoulder to shoulder
Hand in hand
Chest to chest

Our lips are gently touching
The rhythm of our bodies is leading us
Step by step

We lose eye contact for just a second
But you tirelessly follow my steps
And the moment I think that I have lost you again
You enchant me with your irresistible glare

I passionately grasp you and
Trapped in a love embrace
I fully commit to you and you
you surrender completely to me

When I breathe
you exhale
Our hearts beat to the same rhythm
We have become a harmonious whole

Even gravity has given up on us
Because we obey one another
Not the laws of nature

As experienced dancers
With fluid movements
We transform the fire in us into a passionate dance
Our Tango Argenitno
Copyright Afrodita Nestor
Charmaine Oct 2017
I was never fond of the Tango,
the dance that was never through.
But even so, I tangoed,
I tangoed with you.

Passion fuels our every step
red hot anger, crimson lust.
Everything in between
is scattered in our dust.

I wish you'd give me a signal
for I am sick of all the lies.
What are you trying to tell me
with your tired, angry eyes?

I can't see clearly when I look at you,
my vision's blurred from all the tears,
But as we dance this tango,
I forget the pain from all the years.

I was never fond of the Tango,
the dance that was never through.
But it takes two to tango
so I’ll tango with you.
Anna-Lynn Mar 2013
We danced that exhausting tango.
That tango of lies.
Wrapped up in deceit, spinning in ecstasy.
My feet no longer able to bear the weight.
I crumbled with the belief that you would be there to catch me.

Was I ever wrong.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
i can't help what i am...
but what i am not is a spoken word
poet: with that generic exasperation
technique of speaking -
as if, on the verge of crying...

but what i can tell you...
i am a rigid person,
there are 3/4 of me that should
have enlisted in the army,
and only a 1/4 that went to
university...

so... given that i'm such a rigid ******...
i thought i'd tell you about
linear and vertical rhyming...
linear?
oh, that's neat & easy:

.................................... end
.................................... bend
..................................... send
..................................... wend....

basically suffix rhyming...
but! but... what Sylvia Plath
introduced?
   oh, my, god...
      transcendent of
the conceptualization of
"the" box...

her rhyme? alphabetical...
sort of...

        it's more than that...
she didn't pay due diligence on
suffix rhyming -end,
   -ing
    you name it...

you want to know what her rhyme
concept implies?

   **** me, it's sassy...

she was a rhyming weaver...
an interloper...
    words didn't have to necessarily
end in the same boundary
of an echo... echo rhyming
by the standard bearers is one thing...
she made tartan rhymes...

tartan rhyming...
kilt rhyming...

                  and it looked something
equivalent to, this:

  ceremony or Potent -
Still sky, obtuSe -
   one might Say love -
  Suddenly,
        black featherS,
black reSpit -
Season of fatigue,
SpaSmodic,
  deScend...
   Stolidly...
       no effigy... Seem...
pompouS...
                         coarSe copy...
      Bell tongue BirdS...
    Shrined on her SHelf...
too Tough to Finish...
  Seize my Senses...
ToTal neuTrality...
   deScent...
                Sanguine...
  bRick dusk...
Prose...
              plaCe...
            pompouS...
Ne­at kNits...
    weedS obScured...
SHe blenched,
miMic...
   deSpite...
baniSH...
    ******...
too tough for knife to finiSH...

      Head...
so profoundly muCH...
       piN legs...
               thoughtS...
So departS...
       S(h)eets...
Sanity...
      Tongue...
Printed Page...
  Twelve...
Sick man's Eye...
nEVER nEVER found
anyWHERE...

goodbye goodbye...
      eXclamation...
the First point...
            GHost...
   Signify...
cuckoo-land of color fields,
CRisp CUsp...
    
        the girl's dancing!
she's dancing barefoot...
no, i can't fall in love with her...
she's, dead!

    but can you see
rhyming vertically?
   all the lettering,
in capital letters?
  deviancy...
   it doesn't agree to your
box standard form of
rhyme, linearly...
  it's vertical rhyming,
it's juxtapositions on a scale
that might elongate
the winding tongue of a snake
in, anything but maracas
rattling...
sssssssssssssssssssssss.....
a wet snare...
   she's teasing...
she has escaped
the tradition of
the traditional guise of rhyme...
she has invoked
rhyme, but as an intermediating
attachment...
          forget the rigid
end-
                   -ing
with a "worthy"
   sympathiz-
                                        -ing...

what a gall...
she makes the housewives of America's
1950s twice as vampire-like,
and thrice as Stepford material...
   lucky blond to leave so much
"crap" behind...
   i could pick the maggots
from her head and make it
a day's worth of fishing
on the banks of Vistula...

she's dancing in the rain,
and all i have is my Cameo cinema
moment
with my cousin, Justine,
running barefoot where
i grew up on the cement...
and then cuddling together,
getting warmer
over one worth of an afternoon...

last time i heard...
her son Leo was born on
the 15th of May,
my birthday...
  but we've fallen out...
when her husband
put a **** under my father's
self-employment
enterprise...
   and undertook
a practice of stealing workers
from him...
great move... when you join
a family...

        nice memory though...
wish my cousin Justin all the luck
she can muster...
but when it comes to family
friendliness?
none....
                 went to her brother's
wedding... was interrogated by
her brother's best man...

   Polish drunk talk...
let's just say...
his date?
   was flashing her underwear
at me from under her magic carpet
ride of a skirt while we
smoke cigarettes and finished
off drinks, being accused of...
trying... to seriously...
hide her... exhibitionism...

   so i started punching myself
in the face to find target practice
should i ever come across
any more Polacks, drunk,
at a family wedding...
   you never know...

           hell... if ******* wanna tango...
we'll... ******* tango! ha ha.
now all i need is the raw
material... my knuckles
are either furry...
or they're itchy...
  can't exactly knock-out
my neighbors dog...
   i need a ******* mug of
a mouthwash advert...
with a grin that's, seriously
asking for a few missing teeth
to rekindle a smile!
Edna Sweetlove Dec 2014
THIS IS THE LEPROSY TANGO
Imagine a lepers' hospital somewhere in the jungle;
it's St Valentines Day and everyone is looking for love.
Let the music begin...*


Leprosy!
I think I've got leprosy;
At least my doctor
Assures me it's so.

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Leprosy!
I'm pleased I've got leprosy;
At least for the moment,
Till my privy parts go.

One by one my bits
And pieces, they drop off
And I must be so careful
Whenever I cough.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

Leprosy!
Oh yes, I have leprosy
And I'm so happy
Cos it's a great way to go.

OLE!
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
Watching a classic
Casablanca Class I Fix
Trix cereal for adults
Goddess sundress
The class act you need to guess
Her
fit* no-one would
know vibrant
Getting the OJ of the miracle
Sunbathing at the
     *Pinnacle


His skin news of the
Chronicle
The fix-up finale deeply
in her classic smile
Sunflowers of the sunray  
Tropicana class act deviant play

Quickdraw Gunfire
Her hot tango steps in action
Copacabana
Diamonds no chips
Big tips at the Gentleman
OH! Boy the cabana detention
Class I comes with affection
Kiss is not a kiss without a real scene

In action to miss a classic movie hit
Adventure Trips  flipping homes
In the classified newspaper middle section

She is the Classic with an illuminating passion

I the Classic one and he is
surfing the internet
So fit to be tied but casual love
She the same person wearing her
flip flops
******* off *Root beer float tops

The root of all evil
That She-devil Sire
Not the ordinary campfire

It takes a certain Class, I can fix peoples
problems  like great ***** of fire

We are not signs or perhaps it's in the signs
Emblems
Where you came from no problems
Take action get more satisfaction
Army grenade we are all
fighting in action
Action speaks louder than words
One of a kind the rare find
A classification of her mind
Understand each other
do the hiring
  Trump in action job firing

What drives us and gives us
gratification
We need to love what is above
our minds
I believe sometimes you don't have to be where the action is

The Rainman Rainforest Vacation
You are the I phone off
with the ringer
Classic type Class I
Our computer all rules
codes and passwords
The religious Pope up front
He's the  Marlon Brando waterfront
You have the polka dot bikini

Panera Sandwich Panini
Orange you glad its cantaloupe
He wants to elope
your classic smile
Exclamation point
At Times Square you could
lift her for miles

Whether we look modern
The technology is always out of reach foreign
Or wearing your heart in his heart
Your wiggle walk
The classic style to talk
Fifties **** smoke
Born to be wildlife everything
is on Castaway
Or layaway on hold

And he is athlete runner so hype
Everyone is busy on
Twitter or Skype
The Facebook and photos

Dorothy loves wizardly Oz and Toto
Were all together like
a congregation, not a citation
Living in the city paying rent
Another wicked concert event

How many times did you get that notification?
The auction house in action the bid five times
Those hot leads of crimes
Playing for a nickel heads up dimes
Class act Quarterback
Elephant treasure trunk
ten commandment
Class, I lady leading the way
Class, I fix the parliament

Her classic fifty style army dress in action
Her bullet lips caught quite an attraction

Feeling the comfort food
Mac and Cheese
Silly names those 
 Canadian A&W
ATM Class I
The French fries do or dies
Skinny He's the Ham Mac
You're the spicy Cajun
on the speaker Mic
What classifies everything in
our life
High stunts action cliff taking a dive
**** Bill he kills me all the time

That Buffalo Bill Chicken Mac
Bombastic not the
forever love classic
With a whole list dark Raven
Crystal rock Haven

Everything lately goes so fast
Getting in Saint Anthony fire
She is the livewire
The gunfire or the cease her fire
Out of money  honey bee
******* mansion multiplier
Everything you're
near his or hers
Wineglass stir me
like an amplifier
What happens to your
responsibilities running
racing your own time
The  Coffee man suitor
My Godly dictator
The saltwater taffy-like lava
Comic Disney Pixstar meet Daffy Duck
Or you overqualified being lied too
Oh! Chuck

Like a candle in the wind its in
the science hot steamy
romance engagement
What awaits things to come
getting blown away
It just like any other day
How we classify things or lose things how our mind cannot remember your best words even writing a poem it takes practice more advice action speaks louder than words like the law and order. I think this poem might be your order. Please tell me how it classifies is this a class act to follow get your coffee fix action we will start the movie my poem classic relax
Audrey Maday Apr 2015
You and Me,
We could fit perhaps,
If you tried and cared,
And I didn't care too much.
But of course you won't try or care,
And I will spend my nights pining over someone
Who isn't even mine,
And we will do this tango,
Of similar thoughts for each other,
Without ever acting upon them.
Ally Sep 2013
Here we are again
We're caught up in this dangerous game for two
Playing our sick game, hoping the other will loose
Spinning left to right, we pick up the fight
I chase you and you chase me
It's the same old thing.
You beg and then I plead
Neither of us willing to give up the lead
We switch from time to time
And of course there are several altercations
Because you are the Cat and I am the Mouse,
we don't belong together, you see.
Try as we might, we always fight
You want the milk and I want the cheese
We never seem to agree.
But here we are again, picking up our dance
Wishing that this time it might actually last
Because you are the Cat and I am the Mouse,
we don't belong together, you see.
But this time you hoped and this time I agreed,
that the Cat and the Mouse could actually be together
The music decrescendos, the tango is done.
The Cat and Mouse walk out, side by side, as one.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2015
My Tango Master

His hair was deep, rich,
the black of unweathered basalt,
slick backed, like his look,
an arrogant dare to stare,
eyes directed at newcomers,
intended to make me,
a novice especially aware,
a bon voyage has begun,
now a worshiper, full of faults,
warning that I sought entry
to a temple where admission was a
sworn affidavit promising
total sacrifice of body

The flat contours of his body
disguised a airy litheness that  
embraced and made me giddy,
pliant to his methodology,
mastering my psychology,  
making the whole of my body breathe,
as if for the first time  

No questions asked or allowed,
he bent me, taught me supple,
the surety of the pleasure of
following a leader unreservedly,
my body straight from within,
but the exterior,
a symmetry of curves,
I am,
his precision human tool

His hands grasped me
with utter certainty,
with a petal light touch
and fingertip precision,
directing me to Rio de la Plata,
where his swivel hips
lift this black robed disciple
upon a golden altar where
I have remained, entranced,
a devotee forever more,
enslaved to our one god

Demanding the perfection
that comes only from rigidity,
irony of ironies,
it was a vocabulary of
spontaneity and fluidity
step by step learned,
this contradiction, soon intuitive

With posture *****,
he taught the history of seduction,
constructing the tale
each time differently,
creating within me
the ravished need for the
surprise of the unknown,
teased me into obediently
accepting the satisfaction of
joined at the hip ecstasy

With boleos that mesmerized ,
but not a one memorized,
he captivates me,
a tandem for a tanda,
until cortina-released

What is your name?

Tango
he whispers,
his name is in his eyes,
never spoke aloud,
I am your new master,
now come and master me
Twinkle Jul 2014
You are silent and so am I
You think you've been let down
And so do I

The truth however is
We both scared to risk it all
We both don't know what's to become
If we just let go of our bubble and
Float back to the ground!
Joanne Fuda May 2013
you are my lifeline
in time with time
quickstep tango
Russian roulette
African mango
one will get you high
just one
thread
piece of string
hanging
just one
nish Aug 2018
let me teach you
how to dance
to the song that is my heartbeat

first; lay your head upon my chest
stay silent, unmoving, hold your breathe
nothing?
no, there it is
steady, unyeilding, comforting
but as I feel you slowly exhale
it’s tempo accelerates
of course you induce that
‘butterflies in my stomach’ effect
if I was talking, I would’ve stuttered
as your fingers absentmindedly
drew patterns on my wrists
i could feel the hairs rising
my body calling out to your touch
gentle, calming, peaceful
and when I peak at you
your eyes are closed, relaxed
savouring the moment
our pulses meld together
and dance a tranquil tango.
feeling nostalgic for a love I’ve never experienced.
Beau Grey Apr 2016
Petals of paper
for a stature svelte.
An ***** core.

Swindling willow
waltz upon a stage.
Tethered by the same roots.

A ***** moon,
an ascending tide.
Longing lovers without passports.

Army of emerald soldiers
seduced by ruby gypsies.
Ashen by a kiss.

Clumsy hearts vitrified -
never worn on sleeves.
Await a hummingbird.
the fire
of desire
in each step
staccato
movements
making
many a sparking flint
a close
held twirl
fervent
the grasp
the guitar
is at fever pitch
strumming
a flammable chord
the couple
engaging
in a hot dance
powerful the ardor
which they display
a sensual love
in the tango's
interplay
Gaye Nov 2015
Somewhere next to the sea when the waves are not still, when you don't smell of the summer sun and I not of the ****** sand, lets get married. I want the tango night, dance to the drums late night on your rooftop with some cheap *** bottles. Lets not sign the deal, lets feed out hearts, lets see how miserable we are gonna to make each other. Lets get married my love!
Mohd Arshad Nov 2014
I remember
                    I remember
adolescence did tango before me
and like a lover
it filled me with passion
to touch her as she passed by

I remember
                    I remember
I was awash with fire
That kept burning within
How swiftly snow melted away
How soon I watched  
Landscape full of blossoms
Notes (optional)
irinia Oct 2014
today you died one more time
before words -
they dissolve migrant birds,
their shadows carry the sky

it's not enough
you're watching me
with tango movements
my desire, your birth tonight
and the chronicle of a redeemed body

it's you again
drawing my tomorrow uninvited
in this frame of reference
we are not symbiotic lovers
but fearful whispering prayers,
one blank sun,
the remains of a sea,
some irrational numbers...

— The End —