This beautiful vocalist who gained huge popularity,
entered this world in Newark, New Jersey.
She was born in 1937 to an Italian-American family.
"Connie Francis" was a name suggested by Arthur Godfrey.
From there, her career went high and far.
Nobody could dispute her status as a star.
Connie not only recorded her songs in English,
she sang in Italian, Spanish, German, and Yiddish.
Songs like "Everyone's Somebody's Fool" topped the charts.
Connie won over millions of fans' hearts.
Suffering numerous personal tragedies through the years,
she displayed great resilience and overcame the tears.
The curtain came down on her life at eighty-seven.
Her spirit will perform forever in Rock and Roll Heaven.
Connie Francis
(1937-2025)
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.
I love to dance to the music of The Rolling Stones,
one of the longest-running rock bands since the sixties.
The band’s music is raw with energetic blend of blues,
rhythm and blues, rock and roll and baroque rock or pop.
Slow dancing to the ballads of Angie and Wild Horses
let me bring out the emotional depth of the melody
and lyrics through emotive flow and applying Tango
improvisation to Paint It Black with its unique sound.
Fusion dancing to Ruby Tuesday, a baroque pop and
You Can’t Always Get What You Want, a rock with slow
ballad like tempo to fast, to create contrasting styles and
freestyle dancing by mixing various genres to Under My Thumb.
Swinging, jiving, rocking, strutting, like Mick’s strut and
shimmying to Tumbling Dice and Honky Tonk Women.
Dave, the pianist and vocalist of a two men band plays
The Stones songs for me and calls me The Stones Girl.
Her voice, so exquisitely beautiful, leaves everything else on Earth astounded,
It rendered my body motionless, yet my mind remained acutely focused on her radiant countenance.
Her melodious touch stirred my emotions, transforming my pain into sheer joy.
??????????????
BY TURYAGUMANAWE MATHIAS
Energy heats a pen for me and gives chemistry /
There’s no alternative to emit a thermal word filled migration flurry /
My nation bet against the worker bee buzzing up the ante on the monster keeper /
Icy for any eatery’s departure to slip blame onto a customer /
I'll be the infamous cook while you'll be the go get us waitress /
You’re in danger as I’m on point and you’re just pointless /
You can't step to how he spits I’m on unknown planets /
You’re precision just misses compared to my bliss nonetheless I’m fortuitous when I caress where you’d care less /
I'll take your vocals and be the vocalist or take your confidence and turn you to a pessimist off the guest list
I fell in love with a songstress
To me she's so much more
Than just the splendid vocalist
I first met years before
There's a depth and substance to her
That others might not know
But I picked up on some little things
That otherwise don't show
She's sensitive and vulnerable
She's self conscious and shy
She second guesses everything
And then still wonders why
But she resonates with my spirit
Her and I are one
To me she's so endearing
And in place, second to none
Sumthang wrong wiff dez words
They give know direction
To me and you
Hypertheticail thoughts
They don't tell me
What I gotta do
Ribeye, broccoli, and potatoes
Cup of gravy on the side!
The Carney, sorney
Tater, broccoli and
Meat special
Now we know
The garlicky, onion,chivey
Sun dries tomatoes
With olive oil roasted
Red pepper and bacon,
Cream cheesed
Scalloped potatoes.
Where inspired by a
Lonely man begging a
Woman for a date.
The night he scored they
Dined on these dishes.
She made him to harvest
His cattle
Potatoes
Pick the broccoli
And pick the
Apples for the
Turnover
She said she:d
Marry him if he
Planted seven
Peach trees
Seven blackberry bushes
And seven rows of
Lavender
She asked for
Twenty male quails
And fourty hens
She'd consimate
If he bought
Jersey cows
Two females
and one male.
And seven rows
Of mulberry
To make scented soap.
He complyed!
They married before
A orchestra of sixty
And seven vocalist
The preacher wore purple
And ate
Red snapper and apple pie.
the greatest lumberjack
Rufus the Lumberjack
the greatest hunter
Jo Lion Guinea Pig
THE BIGGEST FISHERMAN
Mr of the hooks
THE GREATEST VOCALIST
Paulinho Mouth of Singer
THE LUCKIEST
Gaston Luck
THE POOREST
João Nobody nowhere man!
THE BIGGEST "CORN"
Golden Horn Morgado
THE MOST SENSITIVE
Hyacinth Pleasures
THE MOST POPULAR
Jo Pop love
THE BIGGEST BUILDER
John Clay
THE GREATEST CARPENTER
woodpecker
THE BIGGEST GRAVE DIVINE
Anonymous Grave
THE GREATEST GARDENER
Daisy Flowers
THE BIGGEST GREEN
Zé of Cabbages....
THE GREATEST OF THE RICH
UNCLE PATINHAS...
THE GREATEST AMONG THOSE WHO CRY
It's not a mourner,
is the singer Choráo...
FOOTBALL'S GREATEST SUPER HERO
Atletico MG football player,Hulk...!
THE GREATEST ACCOUNTANT ECONOMIST
OF FINANCIAL FLAWS
THE BIGGEST SELLER IN MOURNING
ZÉ DO CAIXÄO - John Coffin
THE BIGGEST ATHLETE
Athlete's foot
BIGGEST POET OF ALL
Anyone from Poetry Soup... !
Slow Lyric Dance
A slow lyric dance
enhances the romantic mood
like a breath of fresh air,
we love to inhale it
it lightens the atmosphere
and on the dance floor,
no toxic attraction is seen,
only lovers with true connection.
with each step the lovers take,
with each warm embrace,
we feel the invigorating fresh outlook
and our hearts melt.
the soothing voice of the vocalist
sends chills up our spine.
the slow lyric dance
of two lovers locked in each others arms
always an eye candy
to hopeless romantics like us.
Born in Brooklyn was Italian-American singer Julius La Rosa.
He was destined to be a popular vocalist in America.
In the late forties after a short stint in the US Navy,
he got the attention of radio and television star Arthur Godfrey.
Julius recorded two popular hit songs in 1953.
They were "Anywhere I Wander" and "Eh Cumpari".
In 1955, near the end of an October radio show,
Godfrey unexpectedly announced he was letting Julius go.
Despite this setback, La Rosa's popularity would grow.
In and out of show business, he would be frequently seen,
until he passed away at eighty-six in 2016.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
g
Singer Marion Marlowe was from St. Louis, Missouri.
She had a hit record with haunting lyrics and melody.
"The Man in the Raincoat" was a 1955 success.
This song made Marion a popular songstress.
Along with the Mariners, and Hawaiian female vocalist Haleloke,
Marlowe was fired from the television show starring Arthur Godfrey.
Despite this setback, she had quite a cromulent career.
She proved that success comes to those who persevere.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem
The Doors of perception
maverick swinging carefree
to billboard hits in
rock’s american counterculture
face of the sixties
vocalist Jim Morrison
steering to the pulse of free love
in the heat of Los Angeles
riders on the storm
Loving madly an L.A. woman
parading Gloria absolutely live
rocking to roadhouse blues
in front of the Morrison Hotel
forever longing for the sun
he’d say to touch me and light my fire
People are strange
fame and money
up in flames
it’s a shame
gone in a flash
Booze and partying
taken too far
age twenty seven
life of a rock star
No one here gets out alive
like so many others
joined the 27 Club
buried now in northeastern Paris
true to his own spirit
where he belongs
in the Poets’ Corner
Read on air by invitation ~ July 10, 2020 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on June 28, 2020 for contest STRAND COMPLETELY NEW POETRY (2) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - HONORABLE MENTION
The Droughtless - heavily floats
past my window, obscuring all
but the foghorn tweets of wings.
Contrast the sweet songbirds,
sky-blue and linguistic-red,
with doldrum skies non-speak.
O angel-child’s cherubic cheeks -
vocalist mouth riveting
as a full moon; starless night.
Zoom in; warm colors of harbor -
teal, vanilla and bittersweet!
my eyelashes obscure panes.
Sow drumbeat rain, xanthous-free
screening of a moodless Winter;
endless pounding of water-seas.
Zoom out; shout for Spring -
reap eye-popping perennials,
daffodil-sky, pink-dewdrop posies.
2/16/2020
Floating Market on the River
A Thailand tradition
Large sun umbrellas
And boat roofs or hoods
And Asian conical hats
A bucket of cracked brown egg shells
A grandma quickly whips up
Egg, oyster and fresh, crisp bean sprout
In rice flour batter
Raw and cooked food
Vendors sell garden produce
And cooked food
Prepared right before one’s eyes
Plantain, banana, bean sprouts
Breadfruit
Coconut sugar, syrup and fresh coconut
Poof- a cloud of smoke surround the cook
Another vendor grills meat on skewers
She makes chicken, liver and sticky rice
Tart and sweet star fruit
Steamed sticky rice, coconut milk , sugar and banana inside its leaf
A sweet Thailand tamale
A live band: saxophonist, keyboardist and vocalist plays for donations
Fried quell egg
Fresh and dried spices
Fresh and dried sea food: shrimp, fish
Grilled scallop
Cooked noodles
Cooked squid, prawn, crab and fish
Green papaya salad
Boat brewed coffee
Soda pop
Distilled water
Tea
Beer
Blood cake
Pork
Rice noodles
Marckincia Jean
Free verse
09/30/19
I think I'm a good diplomat,
I'm worth a prize or cup,
I stop all of our arguments
by simply shutting up.
I think I'm a good dresser,
I'm really quite a catch
although some socks have holes in
and that's why they do not match.
I think I'm an Adonis
God-like, striding on the sand
sucking in my stomach, and
my buttocks with both hands.
I think that I'm a master chef
my curry you can't beat it
the family say they're allergic
but at least the cat will eat it.
I think I'm a good vocalist
it's all part of my charm
though when I sing, the neighbours think
I'm testing smoke alarms.
I think that I'm a good lover when,
as my girl makes it plain,
I know she wants more as she says
'okay, is that it, then?'
I think I write good poetry,
the truth I may be fudging,
but maybe we should wait and see
if this gets through the judging.
For contest 'Who do you think you are', sponsor Caren Krutsinger
August 23rf, 2018
An aria of spiritual apathy is flowing in my reverie of woe.
I’ve endured g r i e f beyond the euphony of a metered tune and
am lost inside harmony’s lyrical chorus.
Ballads of verses contain my o b s c u r e existence,
and I am forever heartbroken from the noise of a detestable vocalist.
Despondent and desolated, my ears bleed for chanting rhythm of love,
but I am s i n k i n g, drowning in a sea of wounded wretchedness.
I embrace this MELODY OF SADNESS, forgotten...yet heard in misery’s refrain.
6 to 8 Poetry Contest
Nette Onclaud
October 24, 2017
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