You know at my age
dancing can be dangerous.
I fall and things break!
I was just trying to save face
When I tripped on my own shoe lace
To the floor face first
Then up with a burst
Break dancing was born from my grace
They paid me seventy-eight dollars to break dance he told me
After he did a little break-dancing in my four foot by three-foot office
Slamming his feet into my desk and stuff.
Who paid you? I asked him.
Random people.
Where did they come from?
They came out of nowhere.
And they paid your seventy-eight dollars to break dance.
He says, “I know….my mom was amazed too.”
I get to spend all day with these little imaginations.
Who is the man with unleashed shoes
Tap dancing on the wet grass what is he trying to do
Picking up coins lost in sewer grates
Trying to deposit them in the phone booths that no longer work
Just a minute my cell phone ringing, hold on a minute
Break dancing on the wet lawn while it's raining
As I holler my wallet scoots out my pocket
Now wet also is my dollars
I paid my dues now I tied my shoes
Inside the phone booth I got lost
Just a minute my cell phone ringing I'm no longer break dancing
on the wet lawn cuz it's still raining
11/2/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
The sound of music was too loud
Though he shouted aloud
Nobody heard him
Everyone was absorbed in the music
Some wiggling and others break dancing
Screaming and shrieking with laughter
Not knowing what was happening in the nearby bush
Gasping for air as they slowly suffocated him
Him all tied up by a halter
"God where are you?", he kept crying
A son of the long gone parents
Trying to meet ends of life
Yet life playing a roller coaster with him
Hustling with him as if he is part of the gambling cards
With a few dollars in his pockets
They were trying to put out his eyeballs from his sockets
All he was doing was an act of kindness
He saw them lurking in the bush
Like a lion waiting for its prey
The poor girl walking towards them unknowingly
The scream that she gave,
Forced him to check on the girl
He couldn't withstand them molesting the innocent girl
If only they could turn down the music
And come to rescue him
THE FREEDOM OF NATURE
Methinks how the west wind
Blows and worries these trees,
Swirly leaves break-dancing in my court yard,
Speaking and humming the wind's tone.
With a beautification plucked from the arms of nature,
All the shades of green, red, orange and brown,
Starved leaves falling off, saturating the environs,
Screeching and sliding upon the sandy floor.
Unabated and unchained by the west wind.
Squirrels invited by the branches,
Butterflies ushered in by the flowers,
And the birds came by for shelter;
Nature is having it's free course.
And it all comes together as a piece of natural artwork.
Copyright ©19th October, 2020.
Written By: VMP and Lit-in-Eng (SSS2) Class RGFS 2020 set.
#ChinazaNnaluo
#AdewoleOluwaPelumi
#AbiodunEmmanuel
#OkaforMiracle
#MichaelOlamide
#VickManuelPoetry #VMP #VickManuel.
As stardust sprinkle falls
Across my eyes causing
Me to get very sleepy
While I slept
I had dreams of sugar plums
Dancing in the air
I watched and giggled
With excitement, like a child
My dreams are
Like a story in a book
Next, I had visions of Santa
Stuck inside a chimney with
Christmas gifts in his hands
While, the reindeers band together
To free him
I saw m&m’s candy
Break dancing on the
Dance floor
Spinning upside down on
Their big round heads
Chocolate falls hard and
Cracks her shell
Pieces of her were
All over the floor
Later, I was trapped
Inside of a giant bubble
It bursted, sending me
Sprawling to the floor
Which cause me to awaken
Foolishly I looked around
Thinking it was real
May I Dance With You
Ghouls and the Ghosts are throwing a hoe down.
The killer clowns are having a frightful good time
as frankenstein flits onto the dance floor.
The vampires are sat in the corner having a bite.
Beetlejuice the dj plays the monster mash.
The addams family start to sway
uncle fester's break dancing away.
and the things doing is funky thing.
Freddie Kruger cutting that rug up.
Draculas daughter dances round her handbag
as johhny popped his head in the door ,heres johhny.
They have even let riff raff loose
the monsters and ghouls know how to dance
as Galeo ds shakes their @@@
comp entry 11/10/2016
STAR PEOPLE
they have strange heads
these STAR people
pointy top, pointy ears,
double pointy chins.
all their clothes are button-ups,
no pullovers for this crowd,
they wear “dunce” caps
bearing the icons
of their favorite planets.
water beds are definitely out,
cuddling is a bit iffy,
no resting your chins on your hands,
and – never, never, ever react
with a Homer Simpson “DUH!”
headstands are a no-no
unless break dancing or
planting shrubs.
They are vampire-like
in their habits
only venturing out at night
and then only when
the sky is clear.
When given a chance
they will always shine,
greeting you with a
twinkle in their eyes.
They often sing this little ditty
“human light
not so bright
don’t ask me for
a wish tonight”
12/15/2015
submitted to – Star People – Poetry contest
sponsor – Anthony Slausen
It had made a decision-
Dry spell to cast over cheeks’ streams
A stone to be;
Trust hardly beating
The platter of aches;
To not lick at another time
Relief that came with the burial of falling in(s) and out(s)
Its love became
Then you came around
Within somehow altered
The fears that awake lay
Took a temporary rest
As it swung along to the dreamy melodious feeling
But reality’s prowess on the floor outdid it
Break dancing to the falling beat thought dead
It shuddered and took a Cinderella run
As questions ticked on its mind
Yester years it’d taken this familiar road-
What a bitter recall
Could it step with you into the known unknown before?
For if ever the old showed in the new,
Could endurance be strong enough to stand the rollercoaster-?
That had left its world dizzy and pale
How true the more the judgment, less the love
But this heart can’t help doing so –
Before- on air it was, then suddenly pebbles
It promised to be no fool ever-
Or can it?
©GraceM Composition
Contest: RomanticFools (Thomas Martin)
its a show
watch them go
jump and rump
no slow prancing
watch them started
BREAKING DANCUNG
NEAR APARK
I know - I’m supposed to keep this secret
easy, by month one nothing’s visible yet
in month two damn sickness greets morn
and I’m wishing I’d never been born
by end of third deep serenity’s applied
and all appears to be settled inside
with the fourth my bump starts to show
and I wonder ... when will parents know
in the fifth my movements stop still
while the baby’s march up and down hill
come the sixth I rest both bodies a lot
and this secret’s become more of a plot
tell Mama - with her help I struggle from bed
for the joyous day that I am to be wed
in my seventh the secret’s quite clear
well, I'm married, so ignore “Dear oh dear”
greet the eighth with a football enhancing
boy or girl, baby’s into break dancing
meet the ninth with many a groan
when will this huge bubble be done ?
At start of tenth with a push, screams and shout
finally my best-kept and worst-kept secret is OUT
right now, I want all the wide world to know
football’s burst, and it’s ON with life’s show
bubble, champagne and hubby all Pop
though whacked, where I’m in the world is on top !
Alan McAlpine Douglas
He writes poetry
Like Christopher Reeve’s
Break-dancing
Could you read this poem
He asks
And you would love to
If only between the spelling
And the handwriting
There was a way
Of deciphering
What it was that he wrote
But
There are those
Who think he’s the best thing
Since popcorn
… I’m not one
That’s not to say
I haven’t tried
To understand
What the hell he writes about
But my days as a cryptographer
Have long since gone
Still
I know a few people
That I visit
From time to time
Who enjoy both his poetry
And thorazine
I mean
After all
He writes poetry
HIDDEN LIVES
A doctor is so serious as you
Ask her to your pain subdue
When you leave and close the door
She’s break-dancing across the floor
School is filled with teachers stern
Their pupils quiet, serious , learn.
When the bell rings out as last
Staffroom shakes with laughter blast
Cop on duty in the night
Has to deal with gangs that fight
At home he’s painting flower vases
Maybe embroidering with laces
We all have secret lives unseen
Can’t be helped - it’s in the gene
Judge not a man who’s just there clerking
His spirit’s under the papers lurking.
The wind is break dancing with the trees.
beating a rapper’s song.
Limbs flail on the tarmac.
Rain flies like sweat from corn rows
across the expanse of asphalt.
A barrage precipitates
against the window pane
with the rata-tat-tat
of a machine gun’s bullets
as the front passes.
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