Best Funnymusic Poems
Las Vegas - Nineteen eighty six
I heard it was the city of the tricks
A great hotel, all-you-can-eat buffet
Our car was parked by the sexiest valet
The show already started, the lights dim
I - a Kangaroo with sleeping baby on my limb
The music started, "one mile" legs and feathers
An atmosphere of Cabaret with tens of Heathers
The music stopped, men lowered their defenses
Of topless dancers - awakened all their senses
As glittered bubbles shined on all the misses
" Look, Mommy, lots and lots of tzee-tzees !"
for Miranda's Contest " Burlesque Boutique"
There’s a new music fad or fashion
A genre of Swedish/Australian fusion
They play Dancing Queen and Waterloo
On the wobble board and the didgeridoo
I don’t know if it will catch on at all
They call the music Abbariginal
Form:
Small uncomfortable chairs,
Big ugly rugs.
"Hello how can I help you"'s flying around the room.
The click clack of the keyboard.
Month old magazines,
The occasional little kid screaming at their mother.
The smell of air freshener way too strong.
The "click click" of someone walking about.
The annoying music in the background.
Nervous looks from others seated around.
The ding, when someone walks through the door.
The person that jump's at every ding.
That annoying arguing customer.
The music coming from your neighbors too loud ipod.
The teens constantly texting.
The one end of a conversation from the woman on her cell phone.
The mass headache.
All in that cramped little waiting room.
All experienced dancers go to the center of the room
And I awkwardly stray to the corner.
When the music swims around the room
And the colored lights splash all around in random direction
I begin to nod my head.
The rhythm begins to take over me
And I begin to move my arms
My soul rejoices
My toes tingle
The music possesses me
And everyone around the room move like professional puppets.
My love for music flows through my veins
...But dancing is a different story...
“What are you doing?”
I stop. My sister shakes her head.
“Lessons would be nice.”
There’s a new music fad or fashion
A genre of Swedish/Australian fusion
They play Dancing Queen and Waterloo
On the wobble board and the didgeridoo
I don’t know if it will catch on at all
They call the music Abbariginal
Form:
Dance studio
full of faces I don't know,
with bodies in full control.
I wonder if they can tell
I can't move to music very well,
just by the way I walk...
probably. They're dance hawks
waiting to catch their prey
as soon as the music plays.
O well
I'm only good at being myself.
I just look around,
pretending i couldn't enjoy myself more,
as the other skilled feet on the ground
make mine want to melt into the floor.
"At least we're cute", my feet say
"as long as we're not getting in each other's way."
Another's feet approach,
those of a man.
I tell myself not to croak
as I take his hand.
I tell myself to look around,
but my eyes are glued to the ground.
My feet don't move right
without reassurance from my eyes.
Turns out I'm no good at this,
as I pray for the song to finish.
Yet, this is fun.
I don't want to ever be done,
I'm not meant to be skilled.
I'm only good at being myself.
I almost get it,
then lose confidence.
I pretend to have grace,
trigger my inner dancer;
try to float on air,
act as though clouds are the ground.
I try to feel, feel, feel
but instead I think, think, think.
After all, I'm only good at being me.
He says "Let me lead you", I think "You wanna bet?"
Like I said,
I'm only good at...