Best Strut Poems
On Halloween night I will strut
Dressed like Jabba the Hut
Many sweets I will eat
As it is trick or treat
And double the size of my butt
Be who you regally are,it might make people faint!
No need to match them,with social grease paint.
Each us are so superbly crafted,just look around.
Colors,hair types,body shapes,all do abound.
For everyone of us,at times life can be so tough.
Now that is the opportune time to strut your stuff!
“Dive for your dreams,” e.e.Cummings has said.
It’s time to be you, not hide under your bed.
We only have so much time-on this earth.
Yes, you can be you, with joy and endless mirth.
6/28/2023
Come on baby, don't be shy!
Let's hit that dance floor now.
Yes, you and I.
No inhibitions now,let the patrons
stare.
At my flowing,long red hair and you,
divinely debonair.
Come on baby, don't be shy!
We are doing our very own
Cookie Strut!
My, oh my, oh my!
January 15, 2020
mountains, poetry,
HAIKU
Mountains show their faces
In all the four directions
To where you stand watch!
feet marching to the heavens
where dreams and martyrs dwell
where freedom plays its fife
in the rhythm of darkness
chains and whips begone
rituals of rope and poplar trees as well
these cudgels are no longer my legacy
on shoulders of the past
this heir who knows
how I counter could be my lot
could be my hell
Three things in life last forever
Faith, hope and love
The greatest is love
God is love
He that abides in love
Abides in God
And God in him
Success begins in our lives
When the problems and hurts of others
Matter to us
When the wound of one
Is the wound of all
When the pain of others
Is the pain of all
It is only through love
That we can respond to God
If we give everything we own
To the poor but do not love
No matter what we say
No matter what we believe
We are bankrupt without love
Love never gives up
Love is always there to act
In the face of persecution
In the face of intimidation
In the face of trial
In the face of temptation
Lord give us love enough
To overlook the mistakes of others
Lord let us rejoice when others do well
Love cares more for others
Than for self
Love does not want
What it does not have
Love is positive
It does not want anything negative
Love is good
It does not want anything bad
Love does not want hatred
Because love is love
Love does not strut
It does not have swollen head
Love does not belittle anyone
Love does not look down on others
Love does not force itself on others
Love puts up with anything
Love is determined
Love perseveres for the best
Which is yet to come
Love looks for the best
Love keeps going to the end
No matter the obstacle
No matter the difficulty
If we speak in tongues of angels
But we do not love others
We are simply making a noise
If we can prophecy the future
And understand all mysteries
Or have faith to move mountains
But we do not love others
We have accomplished nothing in life
A person who does not love
Cannot be entrusted with the power of God
He will misappropriate and misuse it
To hurt himself and others
Love looks around to see who is in need
Cause help is the best investment
In all we do let love lead
Hey there, little Buddha,
Let me join your Mistick Krewe.
Got my jazz hand clapping.
Gonna drop the other shoe.
I strut my yo-yo yoga every doo-da day.
It get me so-so-sober in a drunken way.
Hey there, little Buddha,
Voodoo me some déjà vu.
Those saints are marching in again;
Another Bourbon Street debut.
Hey there, little Buddha,
Save me from my karma’s wrath.
Calculate my blessings;
Maybe you can do the math.
So many numb-numb-numbers,
Couldn’t feel my way.
To get me near Nirvana,
Need a CPA.
Hey there little Buddha,
Lead me down the garden path.
Those saints are here to party, boy.
This Mardi Gras make ‘em laugh.
Hey there, little Buddha,
Send your children out to play.
Pranayama mama,
Laissez les bons temps rouler.
I'll chant my man-oh-mantra
Till my eardrums ache
And clear my cha-cha chakras
With a plumber’s snake.
Hey there little Buddha,
Second line come first today.
Those saints will set your flag on fire.
Jockomo feena nay.
On the beach, a cute girl I passed by
I decided I must catch her eye
I tripped on a rock
Went face down in shock
And I wished I could curl up and die
they strut like a cat
in front of the greedy eyes
i sit watching them
A young man would strut round the office block
Thinking he was god's gift, come from fine stock
But his hip wiggle
Made the girls giggle
If only he'd known how the staff would mock.
Plainly seeking some office romances
But the fool of a man spoilt his chances
At an office do
He was stuck like glue
To the boss's wife, making wild advances.
There and then the idiot got the sack
Ordered to buzz off and step the road Jack
He went in a huff
Forgetting to strut
When told to send his last pay packet back.
It's easy to be in kind
cruelling self to denial.
Harder to step up, unboxed.
But why must you beg, aplogise
for stuffing your ego with struts,
standing up, off your knees;
self supported, doing your own stuff.
Strut
Just by the way I strut
You know I haven’t walked
A mile away from my hut
I’ve got life
But not an ounce
Of hope in my heart
All the days are the same
Some stare me dead in the eyes
But I, too
Am created in the image of God
Others look the other way
As if I don’t exist
Some are pacing the streets
Going to their whereabouts
Others walking slowly looking for trouble
Looking to pickpocket
Drawing guns, knives or swords
Don’t ever come around here
Be brave
Don’t show your face
Peel my eyes open
I live to see another day
Music plays with every step I take
Marckincia Jean
Free verse
12/20/19
The chicks strutted their Easter bonnets all over the barnyard.
Their mother the hen was proud; she loved every second.
Their father did not claim them, they were so puffed up.
Everyone had an opinion.
Some good, some bad.
Too confident. Too cocky. Too self-assured.
These were the observations of the male chicks.
Exciting! Pretty! Lovely! Marvelous! Wonderful!
This was the oldest hen’s observation.
Let’s call her Grandma.
Listening to the mridanga's beat,
the kartal's clappings
rows of cars by the roadside -
invitees poised to enter the mandop
to offer money to the palla
and front row guests.
Now a days,
elaborate rituals in religious ceremonies
introduced by the rich and corrupt
not found in our culture and tradition.
Fear stirs deep
in my unhabituated mind.
These are places of strut,
where true grace is left behind -
a stage for wealth,
for pride and display:
no meaning, no beauty,
but hollow show that grips simple hearts.
The poor ape the rich,
sell land or borrow deep,
strangled by debt's coil they can't leap.
What rises today ?
No portrait pure and right,
but dwindling immoral society's blight.
A strut filled society,
where the native soul lies buried,
overthrown.
Dawn rooster's crowing
red and gold cock of the walk
Flecked stars are fleeing.
Pink sky alarms are sounding
as stealthy night goes, creeping.
Perched at verge of day
is cock of the crystal clock.
Blooms are anywhere
on morning of fading moon,
when rouge sun frolics with June.