Poems

Phenomenal WomenPretty women wonder where my secret lies.I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's sizeBut when I start to tell them,They think I'm telling lies.I say,It's in the reach of my armsThe span of my hips,The stride of my step,The curl of my lips.I'm a womanPhenomenally.Phenomenal woman,That's me.I walk into a roomJust as cool as you please,And to a man,The fellows stand orFall down on their knees.Then they swarm around me,A hive of honey bees.I say,It's the fire in my eyes,And the flash of my teeth,The swing in my waist,And the joy in my feet.I'm a womanPhenomenally.Phenomenal woman,That's me.Men themselves have wonderedWhat they see in me.They try so muchBut they can't touchMy inner mystery.When I try to show themThey say they still can't see.I say,It's in the arch of my back,The sun of my smile,The ride of my breasts,The grace of my style.I'm a womanPhenomenally.Phenomenal woman,That's me.Now you understandJust why my head's not bowed.I don't shout or jump aboutOr have to talk real loud.When you see me passingIt ought to make you proud.I say,It's in the click of my heels,The bend of my hair,the palm of my hand,The need of my care,'Cause I'm a womanPhenomenally.Phenomenal woman,That's me. -Maya Angelou______________________________________If You Forget MeI want you to knowone thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine. -Pablo Neruda______________________________________Saddest PoemI can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance." The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights like this, I held her in my arms.I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky. She loved me, sometimes I loved her.How could I not have loved her large, still eyes? I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her. To hear the immense night, more immense without her.And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass. What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.The night is full of stars and she is not with me. That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.My soul is lost without her. As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.My heart searches for her and she is not with me. The same night that whitens the same trees.We, we who were, we are the same no longer. I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.My voice searched the wind to touch her ear. Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she oncebelonged to my kisses.Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes. I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.Love is so short and oblivion so long. Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,my soul is lost without her. Although this may be the last pain she causes me,and this may be the last poem I write for her. -Pablo Neruda______________________________________Your LaughterTake bread away from me, if you wish,take air away, butdo not take from me your laughter.Do not take away the rose,the lance flower that you pluck,the water that suddenlybursts forth in joy,the sudden waveof silver born in you.My struggle is harsh and I come backwith eyes tiredat times from having seenthe unchanging earth,but when your laughter entersit rises to the sky seeking meand it opens for me allthe doors of life.My love, in the darkesthour your laughteropens, and if suddenlyyou see my blood stainingthe stones of the street,laugh, because your laughterwill be for my handslike a fresh sword.Next to the sea in the autumn,your laughter must raiseits foamy cascade,and in the spring, love,I want your laughter likethe flower I was waiting for,the blue flower, the roseof my echoing country.Laugh at the night,at the day, at the moon,laugh at the twistedstreets of the island,laugh at this clumsyboy who loves you,but when I openmy eyes and close them,when my steps go,when my steps return,deny me bread, air,light, spring,but never your laughterfor I would die. -Pablo Neruda______________________________________Boa ConstrictorOh, I'm being eatenBy a boa constrictor,A boa constrictor,A boa constrictor,I'm being eaten by a boa constrictor,And I don't like it--one bit.Well, what do you know?It's nibblin' my toe.Oh, gee,It's up to my knee.Oh my,It's up to my thigh.Oh, fiddle,It's up to my middle.Oh, heck,It's up to my neck.Oh, dread,It's upmmmmmmmmmmffffffffff . . . Shel Silverstein