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Famous Short Dance Poems. Short Dance Poetry by Famous Poets

Famous Short Dance Poems. Short Dance Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Dance short poems

See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems | Top 100 Famous Short Poems

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by James A Emanuel

Michael Jackson

 There ain't NO-BO-DY
can dance like THAT, 'cept them twins
Jazzlene and Jazzphat.


by Dorothy Parker

The Flaw In Paganism

 Drink and dance and laugh and lie,
Love, the reeling midnight through,
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.
)


by William Butler Yeats

The Spur

 You think it horrible that lust and rage
Should dance attention upon my old age;
They were not such a plague when I was young;
What else have I to spur me into song?


by Edward Lear

There was an old lady of France

There was an old lady of France,
Who taught little ducklings to dance;
When she said, "Tick-a-tack!" they only said, "Quack!"
Which grieved that old lady of France.


by Mother Goose

Dance To Your Daddie

 

Dance to your daddie,
My bonnie laddie;
Dance to your daddie, my bonnie lamb;
You shall get a fishy,
On a little dishy;
You shall get a fishy, when the boat comes home.


by Carl Sandburg

Glimmer

 LET down your braids of hair, lady.
Cross your legs and sit before the looking-glass And gaze long on lines under your eyes.
Life writes; men dance.
And you know how men pay women.


by Oscar Wilde

With A Copy Of A House Of Pomegranates

 Go, little book,
To him who, on a lute with horns of pearl,
Sang of the white feet of the Golden Girl:
And bid him look
Into thy pages: it may hap that he
May find that golden maidens dance through thee.


by Carl Sandburg

Five Cent Balloons

 PIETRO has twenty red and blue balloons on a string.
They flutter and dance pulling Pietro’s arm.
A nickel apiece is what they sell for.
Wishing children tag Pietro’s heels.
He sells out and goes the streets alone.


by Stanley Kunitz

An Old Cracked Tune

 My name is Solomon Levi,
the desert is my home,
my mother's breast was thorny,
and father I had none.
The sands whispered, Be separate, the stones taught me, Be hard.
I dance, for the joy of surviving, on the edge of the road.


by Mother Goose

The Old Woman From France


There came an old woman from France
Who taught grown-up children to dance;
    But they were so stiff,
    She sent them home in a sniff,
This sprightly old woman from France.


by Richard Brautigan

Nine Things

 It's night
and a numbered beauty
lapses at the wind,
chortles with the 
branches of a tree,

 giggles,

plays shadow dance
with a dead kite,
cajoles affection
from falling leaves,
and knows four 
other things.
One is the color of your hair.


by Mother Goose

Cock-A-Doodle-Do!

 

Cock-a-doodle-do!
My dame has lost her shoe,
My master's lost his fiddle-stick
And knows not what to do.

Cock-a-doodle-do!
What is my dame to do?
Till master finds his fiddle-stick,
She'll dance without her shoe.


by Edna St Vincent Millay

Chorus

 Give away her gowns,
Give away her shoes;
She has no more use
For her fragrant gowns;
Take them all down,
Blue, green, blue,
Lilac, pink, blue,
From their padded hangers;
She will dance no more
In her narrow shoes;
Sweep her narrow shoes
From the closet floor.


by Countee Cullen

A Brown Girl Dead

 With two white roses on her breasts, 
White candles at head and feet, 
Dark Madonna of the grave she rests; 
Lord Death has found her sweet.
Her mother pawned her wedding ring To lay her out in white; She'd be so proud she'd dance and sing to see herself tonight.


by James Joyce

Winds of May

 Winds of May, that dance on the sea, 
Dancing a ring-around in glee 
From furrow to furrow, while overhead 
The foam flies up to be garlanded, 
In silvery arches spanning the air, 
Saw you my true love anywhere? 
Welladay! Welladay! 
For the winds of May! 
Love is unhappy when love is away!


by John Gould Fletcher

God Lyaeus

 GOD Lyaeus, ever young,
Ever honour'd, ever sung,
Stain'd with blood of lusty grapes,
In a thousand lusty shapes
Dance upon the mazer's brim,
In the crimson liquor swim;
From thy plenteous hand divine
Let a river run with wine:
 God of youth, let this day here
 Enter neither care nor fear.


by Ann Taylor

The Babys Dance

 Dance little baby, dance up high,
Never mind baby, mother is by;
Crow and caper, caper and crow,
There little baby, there you go;
Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,
Backwards and forwards, round and round;
Dance little baby, and mother shall sing,
With the merry coral, ding, ding, ding.


by James A Emanuel

Bojangles And Jo

 Stairstep music: ups,
downs, Bill Robinson smiling,
jazzdancing the rounds.
She raised champagne lips, danced inside banana hips.
All Paris wooed Jo.
Banana panties, perfumed belt, Jazz tatooing lush ecstasies felt.
Josephine, royal, jewelling her dance, flushing the bosom of France.


by Harold Pinter

Poem (Dont look...)

 Don't look.
The world's about to break.
Don't look.
The world's about to chuck out all its light and stuff us in the chokepit of its dark, That black and fat suffocated place Where we will kill or die or dance or weep Or scream of whine or squeak like mice To renegotiate our starting price.


by Tristan Tzara

Cinema Calendar Of The Abstract Heart - 09

 the fibres give in to your starry warmth
a lamp is called green and sees
carefully stepping into a season of fever
the wind has swept the rivers' magic
and i've perforated the nerve
by the clear frozen lake
has snapped the sabre
but the dance round terrace tables
shuts in the shock of the marble shudder
new sober


by Mother Goose

Dance, Little Baby


Dance, little Baby, dance up high!
Never mind, Baby, Mother is by.
Crow and caper, caper and crow,
There, little Baby, there you go!
Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,
Backwards and forwards, round and round;
Dance, little Baby and Mother will sing,
With the merry coral, ding, ding, ding!


by Adrian Green

Bluenote Time

 in the soft jazz and midnight hour
your eyes are dancing close to mine
a sway of hips, a touch of lips

while on the stand
piano player’s fingers
dance around the tune
above a gentle touch
caressing music from the bass

your fingers up and down my spine

in the soft jazz and midnight hour
we lose ourselves in bluenote time


by Jean Toomer

The Lost Dancer

 Spatial depths of being survive
The birth to death recurrences
Of feet dancing on earth of sand;
Vibrations of the dance survive
The sand; the sand, elect, survives
The dancer.
He can find no source Of magic adequate to bind The sand upon his feet, his feet Upon his dance, his dance upon The diamond body of his being.


by James Joyce

Lean Out of the Window

 Lean out of the window, 
Goldenhair, 
I hear you singing 
A merry air.
My book was closed, I read no more, Watching the fire dance On the floor.
I have left my book, I have left my room, For I heard you singing Through the gloom.
Singing and singing A merry air, Lean out of the window, Goldenhair.


by Carl Sandburg

Grieg Being Dead

 GRIEG being dead we may speak of him and his art.
Grieg being dead we can talk about whether he was any good or not.
Grieg being with Ibsen, Björnson, Lief Ericson and the rest, Grieg being dead does not care a hell’s hoot what we say.
Morning, Spring, Anitra’s Dance, He dreams them at the doors of new stars.


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