True Womanhood As Picasso Sculpture Defines
her head is a vessel wisdom
her waist slender supple life
her arms strong circle continuity
her hips wide birth bares all cultures
her dress patterns all ethnic communities
her hair is styled in rank embryo changes
her perceptions embrace all earth seasons
her determination sees possibilities solutions
her eyes wide open see with wisdom realities
her shoulders bare burdens sisterhood shared
her nose is long aquiline to perceive social necessity
her nostrils smell troubles brewing wise calms
her smile is gift embracing universal life circles
her nature true womanhood as Picasso sculpture defines
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
Homage to My Hips
these hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top
poem by Lucille Clifton
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On a Girdle
That which her slender waist confin'd,
Shall now my joyful temples bind;
No monarch but would give his crown,
His arms might do what this has done.
It was my heaven's extremest sphere,
The pale which held that lovely deer,
My joy, my grief, my hope, my love,
Did all within this circle move.
A narrow compass, and yet there
Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair;
Give me but what this ribbon bound,
Take all the rest the sun goes round.
poem by Edmund Waller
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Patterns
Patterns all around you
Patterns everywhere
Patterns of behavior
Sometimes seem unfair
Can you recognize the patterns that you find?
Patterns unfamiliar
Patterns lead you through (to)
Patterns of discovery
Tracing out the clues
Can you recognize the patterns that you find?
Stuck in your mind
In this land where stability is hard to find
You can rearrange the patterns so unkind
Dont bother asking why a pattern never cries
Old patterns never die they just go on and on
Patterns multiplying
Re-direct our view
Endless variations
Make it all seem new
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Polka Patterns
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Lets go into the bathroom
I know were in a room where you would not expect much math
Usually youre in here for a shower or a bath
But if you gaze upon the floor, and if youre kinda smart
Youll see the repetition is like geometric art
Wow, haha
Look
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Hey!
A polkameister like myself never has to be bored
I just grab my ax and play some patterns on my keyboard
Nows the time for earplugs if you care about your health
So stand back, everybody, Im gonna express myself
Look at this, patterns
Ive got blisters on my fingers
Woo, hey, aw, get down
Yeah, help me, somebody, woo
Still there? okay
Next time you find yourself at an exciting polka party
You can make some patterns with your feet and with your body
If you dont know the steps yet, heres the gang with all the answers
Ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the weird al polka dancers
Here they are
Everywhere, we see them there
We stop and stare at patterns
We dont care, we must declare
Weve got a flair for patterns
On our hair, the clothes we wear
Our savoir faire is patterns
All we see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Wallpaper, skyscrapers, funny papers, patterns
Evergreens, nouvelle cuisine, human beings, patterns
Garden rakes, wedding cakes, rattlesnakes, patterns
Golden wheat, little feet, my heartbeat
I gotta stop
Patterns, patterns, patterns, patterns
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guess the Title - Patter down Pat
..........................PATTERNS
....... ................which.......stitch
....... .........PATTERNS....PATTERNS
............ ...fit....................................into
...........PATTERNS....................PATTE RNS
.........knit......................... .........................onto
....PATTERNS ..........................................PATTERN S
enrich.................................. ...................................which
. ...PATTERNS...................................... ....PATTERNS
.........knit................ ..................................onto
... ........PATTERNS....................PATTERNS
...............fit............................ ........into
................PATTERNS....P ATTERNS
.......................which...... .stitch
..........................PATTERNS
10 August 1995
robi03_0762_robi03_0000 QXX_MXX
[C] Jonathan Robin written
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sculptor
he first sculpted a very shapely body of a woman
thin arms, slender body, soft fingers,
porcelain smooth skin
supple breasts
complete with a face
and other
body parts to the last detail
possible
then he sculpted the man
the usual man with strong arms
gentle eyes and well chiseled
thighs
complete with a face
and other body parts to the last detail
possible
he is so kind enough
to leave the two
in the privacy
of their new found existence
that his chisels
and hammers gave them
despite the fact
that he is gay
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It Does Not Have To Be This Way
Every culture tries to control, manipulate, shame, dominate the other culture, the dominate cultures today where the so called inferior cultures of the past, the so called inferiors to day where the dominate cultures of the past in many or most cases, in their region or in their portion of their continent. This is what individuals do to one another. This is how we are habituated on many levels, but it does not have to be this way. Believe in your self, face this tendency of humanity that we need to grow out of, defend your self from this, rise without putting others down. Weed out dysfunctional patterns of relating, of being that you picked up from your family.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Four Woman
My skin is black
My arms are long
My hair is woolly
My back is strong
Strong enough to take the pain
inflicted again and again
What do they call me
My name is AUNT SARAH
My name is Aunt Sarah
My skin is yellow
My hair is long
Between two worlds
I do belong
My father was rich and white
He forced my mother late one night
What do they call me
My name is SAFFRONIA
My name is Saffronia
My skin is tan
My hair is fine
My hips invite you
my mouth like wine
Whose little girl am I?
Anyone who has money to buy
What do they call me
My name is SWEET THING
My name is Sweet Thing
My skin is brown
my manner is tough
I'll kill the first mother I see
my life has been too rough
I'm awfully bitter these days
because my parents were slaves
What do they call me
My name is PEACHES
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I owe all to her
I owe, I owe all to my stirring, blushing lady;
To her tacit eyes, to her lips that savour of thirst;
Her palm, whose sweat my hand lowered to wipe;
Her lean arms, that are captive of my lorn eyes;
Her sturdy and slender waist promising me a nest;
Her love borne thought nudging its way to my path.
I heave in my soul when she hides her warmth.
If at all I live, it is for her, by her and due to her.
She is not the cause of my birth but can be for my death.
01.01.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mother Goddess
a circle of stars over
her head
hands holding white
flowers
her feet on top
of a snake
her long black hair
smooth skin
wavy eyelashes
slender fingers
virgin
pure
mother of all
in plaster of Paris
painted and revered
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Smiles the choice of rose hips hue
Who brings me the tears of rainbows blue?
And smiles the choice of rose hips hue
that brings to me the moons gentle dew?
With kisses soft; as slender new.
Who brings me the laughter of bluebells white?
And dances those greens; like a garden sprite.
That brings to me the azure mornings light?
Like a thistledown angel; lost in flight.
Who brings me a meadows flowing flaxen hair!
And whispering words spellbinding without a care
that brings too me a same sense of wonders rare?
Like woodland lilies under a leaf mould layer.
Who brings me the moons gentle dew..?
With kisses soft; as slender new..?
With smiles the choice of rose hips-hue.
Why; yes, my child it’s you!
poem by Mark Heathcote
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An Epidemic Of Melancholy Proportions
an epidemic of melancholy proportions
is sweeping through many societies countries
despair dejection sadness misery hopelessness
are recession downturn decline consequences
suicide globally haunts many countries cultures
suicide globally engulfs preys upon countries cultures
many countries cultures ethnic societies
never even developed coined a word for depression
yet globally according to recent studies
fifty percent of women suffer episodes of depression
yearly mainly
each at least
a single episode
as opposed
to only ten
percent of men
ask the question
is depression
an issue the world
should take seriously...
one million people a year
are cured permanently
one million people a year succeed
in their attempts at suicide
issue depression needs countries cultures to address
society wide ways to address negative mind problems
depression has become a diabolical mind field killer
when will we learn to honour all our human family?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Mentality of One's Ignorance
The mentality of one's ignorance,
Is often fed from birth.
One's environment exposes them...
To a comfort they grow to thirst.
People of limited securities,
Are the first to label and compare.
Uncertain of their own identities...
They use status and class,
To separate themselves...
In communities as if others are diseased.
The mentality of one's ignorance,
Is often fed from birth.
Beliefs and standards are subsidized,
To qualify one's worth.
And the ones who are at a disadvantage...
Aren't the ones who are depicted as poor!
The ones whose lives are victimized...
Are those who take from others,
With a quest that feeds a need for more!
And unsatisfied with their own lives...
They refuse to respect other cultures,
By imposing their own,
Upon foreign shores.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Once Looked At A Face
I once looked at a face
which in a single glance spoke volumes to me,
the traffic lights, the cars
the other people on the sidewalk
went by unnoticed
The glittering of her eyes
their colour and expression
her slender nose, her dimpled cheek
her lustrous dark hair
made a lasting impression
as if I was looking at an ideal form
but there was more to it than just that
and her sparkling laughter
the way that she threw her hair back
had an own significance
Yet more stunning was her actions
of which years later I am still trying
to decipher the meaning
as she walked up to me
flinging her arms around my neck
She drew my head down to hers
her perfume was enchanting
her lips sweet, soft and hot against mine
and there was a kind of electricity
while she kissed me
I was totally dumbfounded
while her laughter
was both sweet and serene
and she was a stranger to me
but extremely pretty
She looked at me
for another moment in excitement
with a smile on her lips
before she walked away
with swinging hips
poem by Gert Strydom
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Tallness is far fetching beauty.
Your slanting lower jaw
Elongates your oval head.
Your tightly braided hair
Elevates your long nape.
Your sleeveless blouse
Lengthens the length of arm.
Your low hip worn saree
High lights your slimness of waist.
You are still longer.
You are still taller.
Slim and slender as you are
Fair and lovely you appear,
Though you gave me poses
From a hundred yards away.
25.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Four Women
Nina simone
My skin is black
My arms are long
My hair is wooly
My back is strong
Strong enough to take the pain
Its been inflicted again and again
What do they call me
My name is aunt sarah
My name is aunt sarah
My skin is yellow
My hair is long
Between two worlds
I do belong
My father was rich and white
He forced my mother late one night
What do they call me
My name is siffronia
My name is siffronia
My skin is tan
My hairs alright, its fine
My hips invite you
And my lips are like wine
Whose little girl am i?
Well yours if you have some money to buy
What do they call me
My name is sweet thing
My name is sweet thing
My skin is brown
And my manner is tough
Ill kill the first mother I see
Cos my life has been too rough
Im awfully bitter these days
Because my parents were slaves
What do they call me
My
Name
Is
Peaches
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All You See
Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Aaah Haa
Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Hey Hey
Verse 1 Terry
You best believe everyday I get the same ole thang
All kind of bruthas coming up to me
With silly lies that could make you sick oh they need to quit
And get away from me, don't get me wrong I like attention too
But do they really have to act a foolCuz they see a lady lookin' good?
Please admit
Chorus
Is it my hips? my lips?
My eyes? My thighs?
My chest? My hair?
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Is it my hips? My lips?
My eyes? My thighs?
My chest? My hair?
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Verse 2 Terry
In a limousine, fancy car, bling-bling-bling
Even if you're standing 6 foot 3 or 3 feet tall with no teeth
Have respect for me, try conversation please
Before you try and put your hands on me
When will they ever learn there's more to me,
Than T&A on this PYT
Daddy please
Chorus
Is it my hips? my lips? (Daddy)
My eyes? My thighs?
My chest?(My chest) My hair? (My hair)
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Is it my hips? (My hips) my lips? (My lips)
My eyes? (My eyes) My thighs? (My thighs)
My chest? (My chest) My hair? (My hair)
My big ole hey-e-e-ea
Is that all you see?
Bridge Michael Marshall:
How come you actin' like you don't know
Why some bruthas always lose control
When you're wearing them hip high jeans
With your thong out baby please let a playa speak
And don't you start to tweak,
You got the body that can make men weep
So when you walk around in those do me clothes like those videhos
Girl you need to know that all I'm lookin' at is
Chorus
Hips and lipsAnd eyes, your thighs
Your chest, your hair
Girl that big ole (hey-e-e-ea)
Is that all you see?
Your hips, your lips
Your eyes, your thighs
Your chest baby, your hair
You're sexy underwear (hey-e-e-ea)
Is that all you see?
Uh-huh Uh-huh sexy underwear I see
Ooh and I know, I know
Your hips somethin' 'bout your thighs
Is driving me crazy, Ooh hey uh-huh uh-huh
(Ooh)Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Aaah Haa
Ooh Ooh
Aaah Aaah
Hey Hey
(hey-e-e-ea)
Is that all you see?
song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Choice
He'd have given me rolling lands,
Houses of marble, and billowing farms,
Pearls, to trickle between my hands,
Smoldering rubies, to circle my arms.
You- you'd only a lilting song,
Only a melody, happy and high,
You were sudden and swift and strong-
Never a thought for another had I.
He'd have given me laces rare,
Dresses that glimmered with frosty sheen,
Shining ribbons to wrap my hair,
Horses to draw me, as fine as a queen.
You- you'd only to whistle low,
Gayly I followed wherever you led.
I took you, and I let him go-
Somebody ought to examine my head!
poem by Dorothy Parker
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A Tribute to My Dog
Here lies my dog, motionless in his kennel
unable to wag his tail as he always did.
Yesterday when I saw him, curling helpless on his mat
he still wagged his tail and from him arose
a faint tremolo of love
punctuated by gutturals of pain.
At some bleak hour of the night,
the last ember of life died down
and his supple body turned stiff and stark.
Now he lies straight and majestic in death
leaving a track record of love
far difficult to break,
- a love no vessel can hold
or equated with what we humans feel.
Speechless as I stand, memories churn within.
He came to us - too young to be weaned,
a glossy black puppy with tawny gleaming eyes.
His short, sturdy limbs, large drooping ears,
slender waist and elongated frame
well proclaimed his pedigree aloud
So full of mischief, he capered and hopped,
like a new born calf, always up on his heels.
Sniffing with moist nose, he dug and dug
as if unearthing a treasure trove
buried deep beneath the soil.
With alert vigil, he guarded our home,
barking at strangers and driving rodents away
He expected nothing in turn but love.
His loyalty as we deem was never servile.
Never was he on chains to be hauled like cattle.
He enjoyed sauntering through the courtyard
giving company as we took our evening rounds.
He gloated rubbing his body over our knee
and sat content as our stroking fingers ran all around
Licking our feet and arms,
what he conveyed in inarticulate words
could be deciphered thus -
‘I love you, love you true'
Like the bouncing ball, he often played with
our hearts made to bounce up in love
and our hands fold in benison
for a comrade who departs,
valiant in life and loyal to the core
hoping to meet him anon
on the far green meadows of bliss,
still wagging his tail, avowing a bond
too strong to be snapped or splintered.
poem by Valsa George
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Life Within You (Birth)
Birth brings life to a wonderous world
Baby untouched, warm and curled
Pure blue eyes and pale pink lips
Straight red hair and tiny little hips.
Small fingers and wiggling toes
ear to ear smile with soft skin glow
Tiny life made from two,
was touched with an everlasting, 'I do.'
Birth brings love to many hearts
Baby's first cry is where it all starts
One little giggle, one little crawl
One little word then they'll be doing it all!
poem by Sarah Simard
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