Archive for the ‘dancing’ Category

diva 131

July 6, 2009

as publicly professed
a diva to be sure
yet somethings left unsaid
reveal a great deal more

more than just a dancer
whose rhythm, charm, and grace
helped her friends and partners
find music’s sweet embrace

more than just a joker
whose sharp revealing wit
reflects a cool impatience
with truths we won’t admit

more than inspiration
demanding but sincere
expecting those around her
will conquer what they fear

a woman whose wry smiles
conceal a child’s schemes
a faith in life’s true magic
and love for all life’s dreams.

salsa sweetheart

February 14, 2009

with a simple step, rock, step

you knocked me off my feet

how do you move your hips like that

and keep a steady beat?

 

the rhythm of the music

was always lost on me

until I set my eyes on you

and watched it set you free

 

1, 2, 3, I hear it now

pronounced by your sweet sway

5, 6, 7, heaven’s gait

it takes my breath away

 

the visual is stunning

each line, each separate part

the dance floor is your canvas

your moves, a work of art

 

feel me girl, come dance with me

let’s take another turn

there’s still some steps for you to teach

and one or two to learn

dancing

January 29, 2009

we had a little dance

this pretty girl and I

drenched by rain and moonlight

beneath a darkened sky

 

a simple dinner date

a waiting list too long

while speakers on the roof

played Stewart’s ‘Motown Song’

 

reluctantly I led her

across a parking lot

as people covered by the eaves

observed our chosen spot

 

conscious of the audience

I stumbled quite a bit

embarrassed by my steps

I thought she’d like to quit

 

she looked at me and smiled

“are you not having fun?

rest your thoughts with me now, boy

I’ll tell you when we’re done.”

 

with that she held me closer

and moved our steps in line

by following the errors

I first had made in mine

 

from there we swept the asphalt

to music and to cheers

from couples who were laughing

enough to shed some tears

 

we missed out on our dinner

the ride home was a mess

but she and I now count this night

as one where we were blessed

the dancer

January 14, 2009

to all of life there is a rhythm

a measured pace of evolution

one whose ever changing tempo

calls and challenges the dancer

 

at its more common, moderate speeds

time allows for mastery of each lesson

from basic steps to those of wonder

filling the dancer with promise

 

inspired by the muse of its music

encouraged by those who lead or follow

the dancer grows in solitary skills

from which the beauty of dance emerges

 

suddenly, the steady heartbeat skips

its pulse deliberate, then chaotic

pressing against the patience and balance

of the dancer’s once confident core

 

amid this slow to swift frustration  

the simple turns of the everyday

can seem beyond individual talents

and leave the dancer unsteady

 

it is here, where it should all fall apart

from which the ballet draws its magic

as a brief but firm hand extends

centering the dancer’s shaky spin

 

it is no great or arduous feat

merely a routine act, done in kind

for the benefit of the dancer

often by a new acquaintance

 

but it is the all of the dance

the catalyst for spectacular change

freeing the dancer to take that greater risk

that which was the reason to dance at all

a savage peace

January 3, 2009

there is a savage peace

amid the pulsing sound

that emanates from these four walls

then sweeps along the ground

 

a rhythmic primal beat

inside this modern noise

violently subduing all

but what the soul enjoys

 

one by one it captures

the bodies on the floor

releasing inhibitions

held captive at their core

 

they twist, they turn, they spin

at near frenetic pace

shaking loose of lives they see

as cold and commonplace

 

passions once encumbered

escape from deep within

free to flow through hungry pores

and pool upon the skin

 

surrounded by the sparks

from heel strikes on parquet

they’re easily ignited

alighting hearts at play

 

knowing that tomorrow

the mundane will return

they dance as supernovas

enjoying their bright burn

phantom girl

January 3, 2009

I saw Wordsworth’s girl last night

that phantom of his heart’s delight

whose starlit eyes

‘neath twilight skies

defined angelic sight

 

such beauty did this girl possess

this pixie in her long black dress

her every move

a soft, sweet, smooth

and sensuous caress

 

this dancing shape began to sway

and I heard Latin rhythms play

a salsa beat

its sound replete

with steps from her ballet

 

a spirit’s grace and countenance

was present in her circumstance

belied in part

by passion’s art

displayed within her dance

 

enraptured by this lady fair

this May-time girl of dusky hair

in act unplanned

I took her hand

and seemed to float on air

 

she drew me in and I could feel

the atmosphere, now turned surreal

envelope me

as it set free

the soul she would reveal

 

and as we swept across the floor

her character, her strength, and more

at closer view

shown clearly through

with reasons to adore

 

this apparition, heaven sent

this angel, who by God’s consent

became a part

of my own heart

for whose love she was meant