Maya Angelou Comes Alive Poem by john tiong chunghoo

she walks the streets of new york
like a celebrity, her shoes tipped
to lift her in the air and her body,
a coveted curvy and light china, has
lightened up to her tune of ambition

her gracious eyes move in the grace and
love passion of cleopatra, the
translucent limpid gems that had mark
anthony swooning after every fancied
facet of her youth

her lips shine a bright red and her hair
is a regal top and mop of the city flair
every strand is taken care of to illuminate
their worth to crown the fair

tonight, she feels like she has just had
the miss world accolade under her belt;
her hip sways like a top model in
her first cat walk; so precise and
self assured is the execution
of her sexuality; eyes, legs,
buxom and all, she turns all eyes
on her budding robust frame.

her tight short skirt works a twist to
reveal the alluring mechanics
of her two glorious thighs -
she is tall, she is black and she
is going to use all her assets
elevated by the high heeled prada at her soles and toes
the iresistible chanel no 5 perfume
that fuels her already superb aura,
jimmy choo pert and golden clutch,
and alexander mcqueen's fashion bent
to make the city rock ala angelou's phenomenal woman

tonight is her night and she longs to
make it her best like a perfect ballerina
her shoes cup her confidence and
she proudly strides forward
to produce those admirable
clean and clearcut steps and poise
everybody loves to bear witness to

night like this doesnt come often
and she knows she has to make that
perfect 10 impression; a mona lisa smile
to take the heart and holds it there
for a thousand thousand years

so light was the effort to produce it
but so excruciating to translate it
on the canvas
she walks on and on knowing
what she should do to be her own triumph
and as she walks every head turns