Best Oye Poems
There I stood, flushed: gripping
a diaphanous pelvis of his guitar,
he rips a pulpy drool of velvet notes…
glossy under a roulette of lights,
saucy on the parquet floor upon
an artist's feet :his body movement
resembling a twisted weave; the
bossa nova of high timbre frothing scales
of primitive jungle moans,
while Latin hands roll with dizzy
Carribean beats as if Santana
and Jobim grooved with him.
Oh he aches, shakes like a livid soul,
more ravished than refined
in his groping music, my night's balm.
Streams of ‘Oye Como Va’ entice a trance
rippling down my spine, ready
to tug with the accompaniment of
drums and sax; till the last rhapsodic groan
prolongs a dazed jiggle for hips
to leap unto the heat of the sky.
My flesh perspires as I whirl,
unmindful of the exotic rhythm
prancing like a black magic woman!
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10/17/2015
Trashed Poem #3 Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
By nette onclaud
They assembled and gathered
Like they have done forever
One joining the other and another
Simple, friendly and smiling faces
Trotting calmly to catch the pace
Knowing destination will be exceeded
As the abundant will continue to drive
Weakened limbs energized by the sand
Caring not of city man’s worries
Slowly the crowd is formed and bubbles
From many ramifications of Urum
An all-day event needs less hurry
Loudly heard in attitude and style
Planned through four days before
Yet another four days will witness same
Gatherings to sell, to buy and to chatter
Interacting to share, to encourage, bearing
Sharing pains, troubles and sweet songs
As an African child is bathed in powder
On each the other depends
Like persons of old subsisted
Under tattered roofs open to rain and sun
Not minding government neglect and abuse
Early comers nap, linger and do the small talk
While babies dance around half empty market
Your city life they bother not about
For no cause exists for a change of style
For all must be accomplished
If nature does not dictate otherwise
Save for the weak and the sick
Albeit, fully represented in the event
Benefiting from love and care shared
Affection administered across rough roads
However insignificant it may seem
Eternal partnerships, free like life
Again, I am
In the throes of hurt
By the hand of the callous careless chico
that is always managing to put me there
Chico, did I make your time easier?
Did I smother you enough until SHE made it home?
Did I distract you enough?
Or did I not deter you
from saying, “darling” and “amor”
And the late night texts that
You sent from MY bed
And the shrine of sappy obvious love songs
That aren’t intended for
ME, the girl covered head to foot
With your hands and mouth
Mira cabron, I wanna thank you
For wiping my tears and continuing to
Screw me over with your insincerity
For continuing to push me like a thorn
Further and further into your falsely secure arms
For making me think that maybe it was ok
That maybe this was real
That maybe our deadline was not a finish line
But it was
And the song I sang that you flinched at
That I knew had some truth
About you regressing to the girl
Who finally made it home
Is true
Well I hope you don’t leave her black and blue
Like you have me….
BECAUSE NOW I HATE US BOTH.
“OYE” (“HARMATTAN”)
[BY OHWOJEVWE ESE GANIYU]
When
On harmattan wings
Flapped iced
Into my oblongata cold
Into moneyless sadness
Of our Saussure’s paper
Locked in
Folic signified signifier
In language
Too much mystique in
Folic signifier signified
Till tides come
When
On glorious dawns day
We acknowledge
That those potholes
We
Wobbled our way through
In
Thorns trumpeted
Into our ears
Too congealed
To hear Bata drums
Hypnotizing us
Into spag queens hall.
Meri dushmani me tun itna giray ga kabhi socha na tha,
Ye teri 295 wali gustakiyan tujhay lay dobain ge mur ja.
Note.Mujhay phansanay kay liye kuch aur socho kafiro..