Posts Tagged ‘dance’

dancing in sonw 1

The long day ended, so did the evening,
rolling in speedily. The night entered, with
load of wet snow from Crescent sky. Fallen on
the Metropolitan, a city just about bedding
down to bed.

Should I join the night walker, entering
neighborhood tavern for a cold beer? My
rational out weigh the ads of nipping
cold. So out came I in clad coat. Down the
street, round the bend, closeted houses, then
a sign of no exit exposed itself.

Ha! but this silty, milt, not so chilly out
door feel of the night, calling so imposing.
Looking back, the claustrophobic place of my dwelling
was calling too. So I danced for the last time. In
the open somber winter night, I danced for the last
time, before entered back to my covet den.The last danced.

holloween1

I was young then, and so were my friends.
We ride along with the night, no fears.
There we were, hollering beside ghost
of the Georgian dark night. We played,
and dance around tombs, telling the dead,
it is alright.

I was young then, so were my companions.
We ride along with the night, I tell you,
our psychic was high, no fears, such sight
hollering beside ghost of the Georgian dark
night. Fun, madness, rituals of youthful mind.

I was young then, so were my friends, now you
know why I dislike October with a chill. O! it
was wild, with our cheeping cracking applause,
cleaving to each other, telling the dead, it is
alright, before our exist.That was 1983, my first
ghostly night in Canada, I still remember, do not ask me why?

holloween2

Whistling wind

Posted: March 21, 2013 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , ,

Between shattered glasses walked, no place
to hide, for you tossed me everywhere.
Furiously, you raged, stinging like bees,
pebbles, dust thrown into my face.Your speed
left me sighing, gazing, beat upon as if am
not someone’s child.

Babbling, twisted poles, branches, leafs falling,
babies crying, so many pain in my father’s eyes,
as you the old age violinist dance and sing, the wind.

a href=”https://thepoetvoice.files.wordpress.com/2013/03/image-wind1.jpg”>image wind1

Speak at will, you control the game all the time.
Definitely your side I will stay, however mad. No
one knows the way of you, often driven by your
stateless sound. All I can tell, the effects is
everywhere, even bring tries from welling eyes.

O wind! you are a special kind, dust on your tail
charting the universe, eternity past, eternity
present, full with the antis of your virtuosic self.
I like you, not that it can be otherwise, life
without you cannot be imaging, the appealing, virtuous whistling wind

flag3

August 6,1962, I would have giving my live not
knowing why, emancipation cause, that was
hot, and who will not sacrifice. Seven years
old caught up with the commemorate honor of it all.
Gigantic fears, eating, drinking, carrying
the flag with pride I knew I belong.
Caravans everywhere, sea of people as farther
Fields, heaven open its doors for us.
Songs of redemption, shackles of Egypt leaving
behind,freedom now our cry.

1962-1

A boy, only seven, envies no one,I love this
land, sweet paradise.Land woven with tartan
marshes, rainbow sky reminded of promise told.
Rain descended making lavish green leaves barks,
echoing lasting memories of Mongo, Garv walk, and river
coming down, capital news gives way to local
Village stories, oral traditions keeping lives
together. This my home, sweet home, new birthing began,
and so I knew I belong. A task before laid that will have to be done,
may be our labor just started , my day with destiny.

girl_walking_with_jamaica_flagNoAdsSo young, but the flag I held with pride.
Mine was ting, still held with pride.
A child, wave it high, firmly through the
throng held it high with pride.

Still today, batter the years, dusty, and torn,
a slalom vow endures. The pledge honors, ensure
no moral dishonor this symbol of the nation’s
treasure. Still I held with pride. Eternity and
I will take about it somehow. For now I will hold
it high with pride.

ubs picture for wedsite 517ubs picture for wedsite 513ubs picture for wedsite 508

Don;t played me now, I need to know
the truth ? July 19,2009,
at 3:26 pm, Toronto, City
of diversity. It was at the corner
of Dundas and Young, rhymes of
African drumming. They played for us
with such brilliancy, it savior the
moments, the gods spread wings as we were
covered over, the amorous of sweet incense.
ubs picture for wedsite 509 We applauded, then
giving token of our love, dollars, nickels, dimes
and cents while African drumming lingers on into
the twilight, reaching the urban fabric of night
live Downtown TORONTO.