1 Minute with The Bald-Headed Poet

We Rode All the Way to Delhi by Ruskin BondIn the Bicycle Age When I was a kidWe rode all the way to Delhi, Yes we did!Somi and Ranji and I ...It took us three daysAs we pressed on our pedals, All two hundred miles From Dehra to Delhi,And they gave us no medals!We sheltered in dhabas And ate what they gave us, But no welcoming crowd In Delhi received us As dusty, dishevelledWe crossed the old bridge And rode round the city And camped on the Ridge.Next day we rose late— Our bodies they ached—So instead of cyclingAll the way back againWe put our bikes on the train And went home in styleTo Dehra from Delhi, Somi and Ranji and I ...Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Ice and Fire by Edmund Spencer  My love is like to ice, and I to fire:How comes it then that this her cold so greatIs not dissolved through my so hot desire,But harder grows the more I her entreat?Or how comes it that my exceeding heatIs not allayed by her heart-frozen cold,But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,And feel my flames augmented manifold?What more miraculous thing may be told,That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice,And ice, which is congeal'd with senseless cold,Should kindle fire by wonderful device?Such is the power of love in gentle mind,That it can alter all the course of kind.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Independent Dream by Dan HigginsIn the face of oppression, an idea was born Never again to tyranny, we’d be sworn Determined to create a place free of scorn Every Fourth of July, a new hope is reborn Pursuing happiness, no longer forlorn Each firework fired, a salute to the morn’ Nation of dreamers, by independence adorned Dreaming of a future, by freedom’s hand drawn Enjoying the fruits of a struggle hard-won New dawn of liberty, under the sun Together we stand, united as oneSupport the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Midnight by Louise Gluck Speak to me, aching heart: what Ridiculous errand are you inventing for yourself Weeping in the dark garage With your sack of garbage: it is not your job To take out the garbage, it is your job To empty the dishwasher. You are showing off Again, Exactly as you did in childhood--where Is your sporting side, your famous Ironic detachment? A little moonlight hits The broken window, a little summer moonlight, Tender Murmurs from the earth with its ready Sweetnesses-- Is this the way you communicate With your husband, not answering When he calls, or is this the way the heart Behaves when it grieves: it wants to be Alone with the garbage? If I were you, I'd think ahead. After fifteen years, His voice could be getting tired; some night If you don't answer, someone else will answer. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Choices by Nikki GiovanniIf i can't do what i want to dothen my job is to not do what i don't want to doIt's not the same thingbut it's the best i can doIf i can't have what i want... thenmy job is to want what i've gotand be satisfied that at least thereis something more to wantSince i can't go where i need to go... then i must... go where the signs pointthough always understanding parallel movement isn't lateralWhen i can't express what i really feeli practice feeling what i can expressand none of it is equal I knowbut that's why mankind alone among the animalslearns to crySupport the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Juneteenth is an annual observance on June 19 to remember when Union soldiers enforced the Emancipation Proclamation and freed all remaining slaves in Texas on June 19, 1865. This day is an opportunity for people to celebrate freedom and equal rights in the United States. (Wikipedia)Juneteenth Poems:Caged Bird: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/maya-angelou-caged-bird/id1633899855?i=1000595609856Still I Rise: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/still-i-rise-maya-angelou/id1633899855?i=1000639991261Roots - Juneteenth song/poem: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/roots-juneteenth-poem-song/id1633899855?i=1000617518838Join me at the Poetry Festival: https://www.newyorkcitypoetryfestival.com/Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Only a Dad by Edgar Albert Guest Only a dad, with a tired face, Coming home from the daily race, Bringing little of gold or fame, To show how well he has played the game, But glad in his heart that his own rejoice To see him come, and to hear his voice. Only a dad, with a brood of four, One of ten million men or more. Plodding along in the daily strife, Bearing the whips and the scorns of life, With never a whimper of pain or hate, For the sake of those who at home await. Only a dad, neither rich nor proud, Merely one of the surging crowd Toiling, striving from day to day, Facing whatever may come his way, Silent, whenever the harsh condemn, And bearing it all for the love of them. Only a dad, but he gives his all To smooth the way for his children small, Doing, with courage stern and grim, The deeds that his father did for him. This is the line that for him I pen, Only a dad, but the best of men.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

You Tell Me by JewelIt cannot be so you say simple hands cannot change the fate of humanity.I sayHumanity is a boundless, absorbing heart transcendingdeath & generations and centuries absorbing bullets and stitches and tear gasenduring humiliation and illegal abortions and thankless jobsI say to you the heart of Humanity has not and will not be brokenAnd let us raise ourselves like lanternswith the millions of others— with the mad and the forgottenand the strong of heart to shine. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

You And Your Whole Race by Langston HughesYou and your whole race.Look down upon the town in which you liveAnd be ashamed.Look down upon white folksAnd upon yourselvesAnd be ashamedThat such supine poverty exists there,That such stupid ignorance breeds children thereBehind such humble shelters of despair—That you yourselves have not the sense to careNor the manhood to stand up and sayI dare you to come one step nearer, evil world,With your hands of greed seeking to touch my throat,I dare you to come one step nearer me:When you can say thatyou will be free!Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Dive into the timeless words of Ralph Waldo Emerson as we explore his profound poem “Art”. In this episode, we unravel Emerson’s reflections on creativity, nature, and the human spirit, discovering how art connects us to beauty and meaning in everyday life. Perfect for lovers of poetry, philosophy, and inspirational readings, this episode brings Emerson’s wisdom to life through thoughtful narration and reflection. Art by Ralph Waldo Emerson Give to barrows, trays, and pans Grace and glimmer of romance; Bring the moonlight into noon Hid in gleaming piles of stone; On the city's paved street Plant gardens lined with lilacs sweet; Let spouting fountains cool the air, Singing in the sun-baked square; Let statue, picture, park, and hall, Ballad, flag, and festival, The past restore, the day adorn, And make to-morrow a new morn. So shall the drudge in dusty frock Spy behind the city clock Retinues of airy kings, Skirts of angels, starry wings, His fathers shining in bright fables, His children fed at heavenly tables. 'T is the privilege of Art Thus to play its cheerful part, Man on earth to acclimate, And bend the exile to his fate, And, moulded of one element With the days and firmament, Teach him on these as stairs to climb, And live on even terms with Time; Whilst upper life the slender rill Of human sense doth overfill.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Join me as I discuss the state of our nation and ask you questions regarding your beliefs and personal convictions. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Crossing The Bar by Alfred Lord TennysonSunset and evening star,And one clear call for me!And may there be no moaning of the bar,When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep,Too full for sound and foam,When that which drew from out the boundless deepTurns again home. Twilight and evening bell,And after that the dark!And may there be no sadness of farewell,When I embark; For though from out our bourne of Time and PlaceThe flood may bear me far,I hope to see my Pilot face to faceWhen I have crost the bar.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

We Honor You Today by Susan R. SmithTo all of our veteransFar and near.We thank you for your serviceFor all those years. You sacrificed your time,And some gave your life.You preserved our freedomBy willingly paying the price. Many of youWere sent overseas.You were wounded in battle,With scars and disease. But courageous and brave,You weathered the storm.You faced every battleWith faith and beyond. We honor you with joyFor all that you've done.You stood strong for our country,For our daughters and sons. So no one stands alone,We walk hand in hand.Remember, we are with you.Together we shall stand. We salute you today.Hear what we say.Let our words speak eloquentlyIn this special way. On this day,Let us express our love and thanksFor the sacrifice you paid.You served in honorFor many years and days,And we will never forgetHow you were strong and brave.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Prose and Cons Talk: Bald Women get no respect - Liberty, Justice and Peace.Join me for a brief discussion about the humor, positives, awkward experiences, and trials of being a bald woman. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

The Beatitudes, The Sermon on the Mount: Matthew 5:1-12The Sermon on the Mount5 Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him.The Beatitudes2 And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying:3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.5 “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.6 “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.7 “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.8 “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.9 “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons[a] of God.10 “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.11 “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Equality by Maya AngelouYou declare you see me dimlythrough a glass which will not shine,though I stand before you boldly,trim in rank and marking time.You do own to hear me faintlyas a whisper out of range,while my drums beat out the messageand the rhythms never change. Equality, and I will be free.Equality, and I will be free. You announce my ways are wanton,that I fly from man to man,but if I'm just a shadow to you,could you ever understand ? We have lived a painful history,we know the shameful past,but I keep on marching forward,and you keep on coming last. Equality, and I will be free.Equality, and I will be free. Take the blinders from your vision,take the padding from your ears,and confess you've heard me crying,and admit you've seen my tears. Hear the tempo so compelling,hear the blood throb in my veins.Yes, my drums are beating nightly,and the rhythms never change. Equality, and I will be free.Equality, and I will be free.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Happy Mother's Day Poem for Non-biological Mothers – The Bald-Headed Poet A woman gives birth to ideas, goals, and dreams. It’s more than giving life to someone she’s conceived. Being a caretaker is arduous but rewarding. Thank God for the non-biological mothers who deserve fame and fortune. Aunts’ godmother’s stepmother’s friends, cousins’ sisters, teachers’ leaders adopted moms adoptive moms and the rest. Your work is priceless, precious and unending generosity returns, and your blessings come from heaven. Although at times appreciation, gratitude, praise, money or gifts aren’t received. God is your source and will meet all your needs. We honor you for your sacrifices, and for going the extra mile. For adding value to others with love, joy and smiles. To the ladies who are considered barren. To the females who have fertility challenges. Motherhood is a quality and doesn’t mean you’re less than or defective. We acknowledge the selfless, graceful and virtuous women. God made us nurturers, emotional and perfect. A man can buy a house, but a woman creates a home. She makes less on the dollar, but wisdom is better than silver and gold. Women are the pillars of the world. She may be the weaker vessel, but mothers are powerful and strong. I hope you receive your flowers in the form of this poem. A small arrangement for the recognition you deserve. Happy Mother’s Day to you; A queen on her throne. Honorary moms should be celebrated all year long. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

The Most Beautiful Hands by Vinny Vi There are no hands more lovelyThan the ones that held you tightAnd soothed you through the night. There are no hands more fairThan the ones that brushed your hairAnd helped you dress with care. There are no hands more sweetThan the ones that cooked your mealsAnd tended to your needs.  There are no hands more dear Than the ones that wiped your tears And chased away your fears. There are no hands more blessedThan the ones that gave you restAnd held you close to their chest. There are no hands more kindThan those of your mother's hands,The most lovable hands you'll ever find. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Split Differential by Matthew McConaugheylooking for things that I have seen, on the outs and in the between.opening drawers that I've opened prior, this constant crying wolf's proof I'm a liar.imagining places it's perfectly hidden, just because it's gone does that mean it's forbidden?believing it is where it's never been, a penance I pay to atone for my sin?running out of age to find what's mine, believing I will if I have enough time.And I don't. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

All The World's A Stage by William ShakespeareAll the world's a stage,And all the men and women merely players;They have their exits and their entrances,And one man in his time plays many parts,His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchelAnd shining morning face, creeping like snailUnwillingly to school. And then the lover,Sighing like furnace, with a woeful balladMade to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,Seeking the bubble reputationEven in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,In fair round belly with good capon lined,With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,Full of wise saws and modern instances;And so he plays his part. The sixth age shiftsInto the lean and slippered pantaloon,With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wideFor his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,Turning again toward childish treble, pipesAnd whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,That ends this strange eventful history,Is second childishness and mere oblivion,Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Granny's Tree-Climbing by Ruskin BondMy grandmother was a genius. You'd like to know why?Because she could climb trees. Spreading or high, She'd be up their branches in a trice. And mind you,When last she climbed a tree, she was sixty-two.Ever since childhood, she'd had this gift For being happier in a tree than in a lift;And though, as years went by, she would be told That climbing trees should stop when one grew oldAnd that growing old should be gone about gracefullyShe'd laugh and say, 'Well, I'll grow old disgracefully.I can do it better.' And we had to agree;For in all the garden there wasn't a tree She hadn't been up, at one time or another (Having learned to climb from a loving brother When she was six) but it was feared by all That one day she'd have a terrible fall.The outcome was different; while we were in townShe climbed a tree and couldn't come down!We went to the rescue, and helped her descend A doctor took Granny's temperature and said,'I strongly recommend a quiet week in bed.' We sighed with relief and tucked her up well.Poor Granny! For her, it was more like a season in hell.Confined to her bedroom, while every breeze Whispered of summer and dancing leaves.But she held her peace till she felt stronger Then sat up and said, 'I'll lie here no longer!' And she called for my father and told him undauntedThat a house in a treetop was what she now wanted.My dad knew his duties. He said, 'That's all right You'll have what you want, dear, I'll start work tonight.'With my expert assistance, he soon finished the chore:Made her a tree house with windows and a door.So Granny moved up, and now every day I climb to her room with glasses and a tray.She sits there in state and drinks mocktails with me,Upholding her right to reside in a tree.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Solitude by Ella Wheeler WilcoxLaugh, and the world laughs with you;     Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,     But has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer;     Sigh, it is lost on the air; The echoes bound to a joyful sound,     But shrink from voicing care.  Rejoice, and men will seek you;     Grieve, and they turn and go; They want full measure of all your pleasure,     But they do not need your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many;     Be sad, and you lose them all, There are none to decline your nectared wine,     But alone you must drink life's gall.  Feast, and your halls are crowded;     Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live,     But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure     For a large and lordly train, But one by one we must all file on     Through the narrow aisles of pain.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

A few lines can reshape how we think about blessing, prayer, and purpose, and Psalm 67 does exactly that. We read this short psalm straight through, letting its rhythm and repetition do their work: “May God be gracious to us and bless us” becomes more than a private wish, and turns into a worldwide hope.What stands out is the psalm’s logic. We ask for grace and for God’s face to shine, not so we can hoard comfort, but “that your way may be known on earth, your saving power among all nations.” That single turn reframes so much of modern faith talk about success, provision, and prosperity. Blessing is not an endpoint; it’s a signal flare that points beyond us.Then the chorus lands again and again: “Let the peoples praise you.” Psalm 67 widens the circle until it includes every people group and every nation, and it anchors that joy in God’s justice, equity, and guidance. It’s worship that refuses to ignore the world as it is, while still trusting God’s rule is steady. Finally, the psalm closes with harvest language and reverent awe, holding gratitude and holy fear together in the same breath.If you want a short Scripture reading for prayer, meditation, or a daily reset, press play and sit with Psalm 67. Subscribe for more, share this with a friend who needs hope, and leave a review telling us what line you’re still thinking about.Psalm 67, English Standard VersionMake Your Face Shine upon UsTo the choirmaster: with stringed instruments. A Psalm. A Song.67 May God be gracious to us and bless us     and make His face to shine upon us, Selah 2 that your way may be known on earth,     your saving power among all nations.3 Let the peoples praise you, O God;     let all the peoples praise you!4 Let the nations be glad and sing for joy,     for you judge the peoples with equity     and guide the nations upon earth. Selah 5 Let the peoples praise you, O God;     let all the peoples praise you!6 The earth has yielded its increase;     God, our God, shall bless us.7 God shall bless us;    let all the ends of the earth fear Him!Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Sick by Shel Silverstein“I cannot go to school today," Said little Peggy Ann McKay.“I have the measles and the mumps, A gash, a rash and purple bumps.My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,I’m going blind in my right eye.My tonsils are as big as rocks,I’ve counted sixteen chicken poxAnd there’s one more--that’s seventeen,And don’t you think my face looks green?My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--It might be instamatic flu.I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,I’m sure that my left leg is broke--My hip hurts when I move my chin,My belly button’s caving in,My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.My nose is cold, my toes are numb.I have a sliver in my thumb.My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,I hardly whisper when I speak.My tongue is filling up my mouth,I think my hair is falling out.My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,My temperature is one-o-eight.My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,There is a hole inside my ear.I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?What’s that? What’s that you say?You say today is. . .Saturday?G’bye, I’m going out to play!”Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

National Poetry Month Poem: Poetryhttps://www.buzzsprout.com/2017713/episodes/12575592 John 17, Jesus Prays to Be Glorified | Spoken Wordhttps://www.buzzsprout.com/2017713/episodes/12598445Dark Knight - The Crucifixion | Good Friday Poemhttps://www.buzzsprout.com/2017713/episodes/12597460Jesus Christ Superstar (Easter/Resurrection Sunday Poem)https://www.buzzsprout.com/2017713/episodes/12611401*Add some Easter music to the list: Hymn: The Old Rugged Cross (Rap Version) https://www.buzzsprout.com/2017713/episodes/12605122Hymn: More about Jesus (Rap Version) https://www.buzzsprout.com/2017713/episodes/12610916Hymn: All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name (Rap Version) https://www.buzzsprout.com/2017713/episodes/12611407Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Proverbs 7 NLTAnother Warning about Immoral Women7 Follow my advice, my son;    always treasure my commands.2 Obey my commands and live!    Guard my instructions as you guard your own eyes.3 Tie them on your fingers as a reminder.    Write them deep within your heart.4 Love wisdom like a sister;    make insight a beloved member of your family.5 Let them protect you from an affair with an immoral woman,    from listening to the flattery of a promiscuous woman.6 While I was at the window of my house,    looking through the curtain,7 I saw some naive young men,    and one in particular who lacked common sense.8 He was crossing the street near the house of an immoral woman,    strolling down the path by her house.9 It was at twilight, in the evening,    as deep darkness fell.10 The woman approached him,    seductively dressed and sly of heart.11 She was the brash, rebellious type,    never content to stay at home.12 She is often in the streets and markets,    soliciting at every corner.13 She threw her arms around him and kissed him,    and with a brazen look she said,14 “I’ve just made my peace offerings    and fulfilled my vows.15 You’re the one I was looking for!    I came out to find you, and here you are!16 My bed is spread with beautiful blankets,     with colored sheets of Egyptian linen.17 I’ve perfumed my bed    with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon.18 Come, let’s drink our fill of love until morning.    Let’s enjoy each other’s caresses,19 for my husband is not home.    He’s away on a long trip.20 He has taken a wallet full of money with him    and won’t return until later this month.”21 So she seduced him with her pretty speech    and enticed him with her flattery.22 He followed her at once,    like an ox going to the slaughter.   He was like a stag caught in a trap,23 awaiting the arrow that would pierce its heart.     He was like a bird flying into a snare,    little knowing it would cost him his life.24 So listen to me, my sons,    and pay attention to my words.25 Don’t let your hearts stray away toward her.    Don’t wander down her wayward path.26 For she has been the ruin of many;    many men have been her victims.27 Her house is the road to the grave.    Her bedroom is the den of death.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

A Friend by Edgar Albert GuestA friend is one who stands to shareYour every touch of grief and care.He comes by chance, but stays by choice;Your praises he is quick to voice. No grievous fault or passing whimCan make an enemy of him.And though your need be great or small,His strength is yours throughout it all. No matter where your path may turnYour welfare is his chief concern.No matter what your dream may beHe prays your triumph soon to see. There is no wish your tongue can tellBut what it is your friend's as well.The life of him who has a friendIs double-guarded to the end.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Women’s History Month 2026 Artist Spotlight: Tamara; Thanks to my listeners, and a shout out to Leo!Join me in celebrating honoree, Tamara as I finally recognize her album. :) Also mention my listeners and a good Samaritan. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBm0uvAD7s4&list=RDuBm0uvAD7s4&start_radio=1Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

A Bird Came Down The Walk by Emily Dickinson  A bird came down the walk:He did not know I saw;He bit an angle-worm in halvesAnd ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dewFrom a convenient grass,And then hopped sidewise to the wallTo let a beetle pass. He glanced with rapid eyesThat hurried all abroad,--They looked like frightened beads, I thought;He stirred his velvet head Like one in danger; cautious,I offered him a crumb,And he unrolled his feathersAnd rowed him softer home Than oars divide the ocean,Too silver for a seam,Or butterflies, off banks of noon,Leap, plashless, as they swim.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

I Like Canadians by Ernest HemingwayBy A Foreigner  I like Canadians. They are so unlike Americans. They go home at night. Their cigarettes don't smell bad. Their hats fit. They really believe that they won the war. They don't believe in Literature. They think Art has been exaggerated. But they are wonderful on ice skates. A few of them are very rich. But when they are rich they buy more horses Than motor cars. Chicago calls Toronto a puritan town. But both boxing and horse-racing are illegal In Chicago. Nobody works on Sunday. Nobody. That doesn't make me mad. There is only one Woodbine. But were you ever at Blue Bonnets? If you kill somebody with a motor car in Ontario You are liable to go to jail. So it isn't done. There have been over 500 people killed by motor cars In Chicago So far this year. It is hard to get rich in Canada. But it is easy to make money. There are too many tea rooms. But, then, there are no cabarets. If you tip a waiter a quarter He says 'Thank you.' Instead of calling the bouncer. They let women stand up in the street cars. Even if they are good-looking. They are all in a hurry to get home to supper And their radio sets. They are a fine people. I like them.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

One More Round by Maya AngelouThere ain't no pay beneath the sunAs sweet as rest when a job's well done.I was born to work up to my graveBut I was not bornTo be a slave.One more roundAnd let's heave it down,One more roundAnd let's heave it down.Papa drove steel and Momma stood guard,I never heard them holler ‘cause the work was hard.They were born to work up to their gravesBut they were not bornTo be worked-out slaves.One more roundAnd let's heave it down,One more roundAnd let's heave it down.Brothers and sisters know the daily grind,It was not labor made them lose their minds.They were born to work up to their gravesBut they were not bornTo be worked-out slaves.One more roundAnd let's heave it down,One more roundAnd let's heave it down.And now I'll tell you my Golden Rule,I was born to work but I ain't no mule.I was born to work up to my graveBut I was not bornTo be a slave.One more roundAnd let's heave it down,One more roundAnd let's heave it down.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

In You Do I Take RefugeA Shiggaion of David, which he sang to the Lord concerning the words of Cush, a Benjaminite.7 O Lord my God, in you do I take refuge;     save me from all my pursuers and deliver me,2 lest like a lion they tear my soul apart,     rending it in pieces, with none to deliver.3 O Lord my God, if I have done this,     if there is wrong in my hands,4 if I have repaid my friend with evil     or plundered my enemy without cause,5 let the enemy pursue my soul and overtake it,     and let him trample my life to the ground     and lay my glory in the dust. Selah6 Arise, O Lord, in your anger;     lift yourself up against the fury of my enemies;     awake for me; you have appointed a judgment.7 Let the assembly of the peoples be gathered about you;     over it return on high.8 The Lord judges the peoples;     judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness     and according to the integrity that is in me.9 Oh, let the evil of the wicked come to an end,     and may you establish the righteous— you who test the minds and hearts,     O righteous God!10 My shield is with God,     who saves the upright in heart.11 God is a righteous judge,     and a God who feels indignation every day.12 If a man does not repent, God will whet his sword;     he has bent and readied his bow;13 he has prepared for him his deadly weapons,     making his arrows fiery shafts.14 Behold, the wicked man conceives evil     and is pregnant with mischief     and gives birth to lies.15 He makes a pit, digging it out,     and falls into the hole that he has made.16 His mischief returns upon his own head,     and on his own skull his violence descends.17 I will give to the Lord the thanks due to his righteousness,     and I will sing praise to the name of the Lord, the Most High.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You By Pablo Neruda  I do not love you except because I love you;I go from loving to not loving you,From waiting to not waiting for youMy heart moves from cold to fire.  I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.  Maybe January light will consume My heart with its cruel Ray, stealing my key to true calm.  In this part of the story I am the one who Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Be Nobody's Darling By Alice Walker Be nobody's darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around You like a shawl, To parry stones To keep you warm. Watch the people succumb To madness With ample cheer; Let them look askance at you And you askance reply. Be an outcast; Be pleased to walk alone (Uncool) Or line the crowded River beds With other impetuous Fools. Make a merry gathering On the bank Where thousands perished For brave hurt words They said. But be nobody's darling; Be an outcast. Qualified to live Among your dead.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Never to Dream of Spiders by Audre LordeTime collapses between the lips of strangers   my days collapse into a hollow tubesoon implodes against nowlike an iron wallmy eyes are blocked with rubblea smear of perspectivesblurring each horizonin the breathless precision of silenceone word is made.Once the renegade flesh was gone   fall air lay against my facesharp and blue as a needlebut the rain fell through October   and death lay    a condemnation   within my blood.The smell of your neck in August   a fine gold wire bejeweling war   all the rest liesillusive as a farmhouseon the other side of a valleyvanishing in the afternoon.Day three    day four    day ten   the seventh stepa veiled door leading to my golden anniversary   flameproofed free-paper shredded   in the teeth of a pillaging dog   never to dream of spiders   and when they turned the hoses upon mea burst of light.Audre Lorde was an American writer, professor, philosopher, intersectional feminist, poet, and civil rights activist. As a poet, she is well known for technical mastery and emotional expression, as well as her poems that express anger and outrage at civil and social injustices she observed throughout her life. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Galentine's Day is an unofficial holiday celebrated on February 13, the day before Valentine's Day, to honor and celebrate female friendships. It originated from the TV show "Parks and Recreation," where the character Leslie Knope created the day to gather her female friends for fun and appreciation. -newmodernmom.comSupport the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Poetry by Nikki Giovannipoetry is motion graceful as a fawn gentle as a teardrop strong like the eye finding peace in a crowded room we poets tend to think our words are golden though emotion speaks too loudly to be defined by silence sometimes after midnight or just before the dawn we sit typewriter in hand pulling loneliness around us forgetting our lovers or children who are sleeping ignoring the weary wariness of our own logic to compsoe a poem no one understands it it never says 'love me' for poets are beyond love it never says 'accept me' for poems seke not acceptance but controversy it only says 'i am' and therefore i concede that you are too  a poem is pure energy horizontally contained between the mind of the poet and the ear of the reader if it does not sing discard the ear for poetry is song if it does not deligh discard the heart for poetry is joy if it does not inform then close off the brain for it is dead if it cannot heed the insistent message that life is precious  which is all we poets wrapped in our loneliness are trying to saySupport the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

love is more thicker than forget by E. E. Cummingslove is more thicker than forget more thinner than recall more seldom than a wave is wet more frequent than to failit is most mad and moonly and less it shall unbe than all the sea which only is deeper than the sealove is less always than to win less never than alive less bigger than the least begin less littler than forgiveit is most sane and sunly and more it cannot die than all the sky which only is higher than the skySupport the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Top 20 Podcast EpisodesA Poison Tree – William BlakeApology Caged Bird – Maya AngelouChampagne Poetry Cheaters Fat VegansHow do I love thee? – Elizabeth Barrett BrowningI carry your heart – E.E. CummingsLos Angeles Public TransportationLove after Love – Derek WalcottPhenomenal Woman - Maya AngelouScrub Daddy poemSex in a HotelStill I rise - Maya AngelouSummer’s EveThe GrinchTo be in love – Gwendolyn BrooksTouched by an Angel - Maya AngelouWe wear the mask – Paul Laurence Dunbar“Yoga” PantsSupport the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Remember By Christina RossettiRemember me when I am gone away,Gone far away into the silent land;When you can no more hold me by the hand,Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.Remember me when no more day by dayYou tell me of our future that you plann'd:Only remember me; you understandIt will be late to counsel then or pray.Yet if you should forget me for a whileAnd afterwards remember, do not grieve:For if the darkness and corruption leaveA vestige of the thoughts that once I had,Better by far you should forget and smileThan that you should remember and be sad.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Excerpt from "I Have A Dream" speech by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal." I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. 2 I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together. This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring." And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania! Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado! Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California! But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia! Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee! Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.  (full speech link below)https://static.pbslearningmedia.org/media/media_files/Full_text_I_Have_a_Dream_.pdfSupport the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

She Walks in Beauty - (George Gordon) Lord ByronShe walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that’s best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes;Thus mellowed to that tender lightWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade the more, one ray the less,Had half impaired the nameless graceWhich waves in every raven tress,Or softly lightens o’er her face;Where thoughts serenely sweet express,How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,The smiles that win, the tints that glow,But tell of days in goodness spent,A mind at peace with all below,A heart whose love is innocent!Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Psalm 91My Refuge and My Fortress1 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High    will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.2 I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,    my God, in whom I trust.”3 For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler    and from the deadly pestilence.4 He will cover you with his pinions,    and under his wings you will find refuge;    his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.5 You will not fear the terror of the night,    nor the arrow that flies by day,6 nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,    nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.7 A thousand may fall at your side,    ten thousand at your right hand,    but it will not come near you.8 You will only look with your eyes    and see the recompense of the wicked.9 Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—    the Most High, who is my refuge —10 no evil shall be allowed to befall you,    no plague come near your tent.11 For he will command his angels concerning you    to guard you in all your ways.12 On their hands they will bear you up,    lest you strike your foot against a stone.13 You will tread on the lion and the adder;    the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.14 “Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;    I will protect him, because he knows my name.15 When he calls to me, I will answer him;    I will be with him in trouble;    I will rescue him and honor him.16 With long life I will satisfy him    and show him my salvation.”Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead by William ShakespeareNo longer mourn for me when I am deadThan you shall hear the surly sullen bellGive warning to the world that I am fledFrom this vile world with vilest worms to dwell; Nay, if you read this line, remember notThe hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.O, if (I say) you look upon this verse, When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay,Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,But let your love even with my life decay,Lest the wise world should look into your moan, And mock you with me after I am gone.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Step into the prevailing rhythm of Maya Angelou’s poem “Woman Work.” This episode brings her words to life through a poignant poetry reading, exploring themes of labor, resilience, and the longing for peace and freedom. Perfect for listeners seeking inspirational poetry, spoken word, and reflections on womanhood and strength, this episode invites you to pause, reflect, and connect with one of literature’s most enduring voices.Woman Work Poem by Maya AngelouI've got the children to tendThe clothes to mendThe floor to mopThe food to shopThen the chicken to fryThe baby to dryI got company to feedThe garden to weedI've got shirts to pressThe tots to dressThe can to be cutI gotta clean up this hutThen see about the sickAnd the cotton to pick.Shine on me, sunshineRain on me, rainFall softly, dewdropsAnd cool my brow again.Storm, blow me from hereWith your fiercest windLet me float across the sky'Til I can rest again.Fall gently, snowflakesCover me with whiteCold icy kisses andLet me rest tonight.Sun, rain, curving skyMountain, oceans, leaf and stoneStar shine, moon glowYou're all that I can call my own.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Please join me in this season's first episode. Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Season Finale: New Year's Eve message and 2024 PrayerSupport the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Psalm 23 (ESV)The Lord Is My ShepherdA Psalm of David.1    The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2     He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. 3     He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness     for his name's sake.4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,     I will fear no evil, for you are with me;     your rod and your staff,     they comfort me.5 You prepare a table before me     in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil;     my cup overflows. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me     all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord     forever.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Still I Rise By Maya Angelou You may write me down in historyWith your bitter, twisted lies,You may trod me in the very dirtBut still, like dust, I'll rise.Does my sassiness upset you?Why are you beset with gloom?’Cause I walk like I've got oil wellsPumping in my living room.Just like moons and like suns,With the certainty of tides,Just like hopes springing high,Still I'll rise.Did you want to see me broken?Bowed head and lowered eyes?Shoulders falling down like teardrops,Weakened by my soulful cries?Does my haughtiness offend you?Don't you take it awful hard’Cause I laugh like I've got gold minesDiggin’ in my own backyard.You may shoot me with your words,You may cut me with your eyes,You may kill me with your hatefulness,But still, like air, I’ll rise.Does my sexiness upset you?Does it come as a surpriseThat I dance like I've got diamondsAt the meeting of my thighs?Out of the huts of history’s shameI riseUp from a past that’s rooted in painI riseI'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.Leaving behind nights of terror and fearI riseInto a daybreak that’s wondrously clearI riseBringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,I am the dream and the hope of the slave.I riseI riseI rise.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree

Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? By William Shakespeare Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?Thou art more lovely and more temperate:Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;And every fair from fair sometime declines,By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;But thy eternal summer shall not fade,Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.Support the showPoems are green and Poetry is mean. -Poetry Beast Please accept my endless gratitude,I'm tickled pink,You're a gift!Thank you for your time and attention.It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree