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Dance Social Poems | Social Poems About Dance

These Dance Social poems are examples of Social poems about Dance. These are the best examples of Dance Social poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Tanka |

LOVE, ANGELS, and MUSIC

LOVE God is always love Forever seek the kingdom; Praise the creator Keep giving what you can give Please endure until the end ANGELS Beautiful Heavens Protecting the meek ones earth Watching over us Helping us to cope with life Comforted with hope and trust MUSIC When you find rhythm You find your hearts inner core Celebrate the times Make them better than before Reminisce and dance all night


Details | Free verse |

Grandma Was Dancing

She was a tappin' to the tunes...
of those Mississippi blues...
step-pin' out, in her white...
Pat-en-leather shoes,

We were a watchin' her a prancin',
all through the kitchen, dancin'...
for she was so...hot & sizzlin'...
hummin' to those Mississippi tunes...

Funny curlers too, upon...
her head...for a new... Hair dew,...
she was, a swirlin'-in that bakers apron,
when her head...star-ted a bobbin' to...
those Mississip-pi blues,

'Pots were a knockin'...
Grandma a sockin' down all she brews,
while that kettle there was whistlin',
in har-mo-ny, with them good ole...
good ole...mississip-pi moves,'

That floor there, was a bouncin'
holdin' hands we were a jumpin',
an-a hoppin' In the kitchen, to those...
                  sounds ...
Where Grandma's feet were a stompin',
In her new...New-white-sexy-pat-en-
leather-shoes...
(ya hoo)


Details | Lyric |

Zoo - Just to Amuse You

One fine day, I planned a visit to zoo
Alone landed amidst the fauna left so few
Treaded merrily on greenery, singing my heart out
Whilst a lion’s scary roar made me shout

‘Ah! Another visitor’, said the lion annoyingly
‘Why should we entertain you?’ said he fumingly
‘What’s the point in wasting your energy and mine?
Making us do the funny acts, do they seem so divine?’

Hearing those words I dared
Reduced the distance, still scared
Said I, ‘Stop fuming King of Jungle, watch out for your age,
Hadn’t I come to visit you, wouldn’t you be bored in your cage?’

‘The answer dwells in your question, silly girl
You humans have no heart of pearls,
The so-called king of jungle imprisoned in cage
Heartthrob of millions I was, at my early age’

‘To meet my family, hope it doesn’t get too late
I need to eagerly meet ‘em all, my cubs, my mate
I still feel them, they are waiting for me
Oh girl! Be kind enough to set me free.’


I couldn’t have done that with all my might
Turned my way, delighted by a peacock’s sight
The multihued beauty was sheltered in a metallic cage
Awe! Gloomy this beauty looked, in distress and rage

‘What is wrong? Do you want to fly?’
It turned around and looked straight at the sky
‘Show me those vibrant feathers, the fan-like crest
Guests would adore seeing you dance at your best’

‘I dance just for my love, my love for rain,
Cool breeze no more likes crossing my lane
Why do I open my feathers without my mate’s presence?
Just to amuse you, I shall do; confined in this fence’

Dumbstruck, I decided to turn my way
Walked ahead in quest of animals happy and gay
There it was! A crazy monkey, flirting and making its choice
Mimicking others and playing around, hear its evil noise

Bouncing, bouncing and dancing, dancing
It ruled as if dungeon’s dominant king
Wow! You look so happy; what’s the reason?
‘Girl! No more fun for you, ‘coz free I’ll be from this prison’.

Two giant men came forward and opened the door
Good Lord! It’ll be free, unkind humans is just animal’s lore!
Monkey screeched, ‘Meet me soon in the nearby forest
Where I meet my pals, play, eat, have fun and rest’

 Happy to see the monkey’s joy, I walked ahead
Across the bushes, saw a van, a huge van in red
Giant men carried animals and dumped in the van
Shocked I was to see the sight and reckoned their plan

Why was my monkey friend inside, for what purpose?
It was clear as I read the van’s name, ‘The Great Royal Circus!’


Details | Couplet |

Looking For Love In All The Wrong Places

<        this poem is not about what is written, but what is not written
          like the smile upon her face that looks nil and somewhat smitten

          and lochs of hair hanging instead of with bows and lace
          tell me my angelic angel have you fallen from God's good grace

          has your garments of thread gone out of time
          has your dance with the butterflies gotten out of rhyme

         have you been cast from your lovers heart
         or are you just looking to start over with brand new start

         has clouds silver lining rained upon your dreams
         has leafs dance gone frozen in crystal streams


         time stands still amidst wondering thoughts
         time stands still when lovers cant be sought 




Written By Katherine Stella 7/4/11

Entry For A Rambling Poet's 
The Unwritten Contest
G.L. All      

        

         


         
          
          

        
                         

         

         


Details | Haiku |

MUSIC - HAIKU

Play The Radio Get Up And Dance All Night Long Music Heals The Soul


Details | Free verse |

Pateince

Carnelian robes permeate dreamtime landscapes
of parchment and prayer flag.
Smiling faces walk swiftly
through corridors of ancient walls
carved from living mountains,
spinning cylindrical wheels in their wake.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years,
we wait for peace.

Eagle feathers jounce
as soft moccasins dance heartbeat
on the prairie hair of Mother Earth.
Sacred sisters hold position in jingle dress rhythms
offering prayer pipes to their men,
who burn sweet grass as they fancy dance past.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years,
we wait for peace.

Hula dancers waft sea breeze
in the heat waves of Pele’s fire.
Warrior lines pace boundary between the worlds,
as molten lands part the waters
and oasis the humble in a paradise
where lei lines encircle life.

Patience of a thousand thousand years,
we wait for peace.

Condor circles as mountains spirits speak
telling stories of forever and ever.
Ancient peoples gather in raindrop mists
to nourish the living land
and feed the collective soul
the medicine of dreams.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years,
we wait for peace.

“Imagine all the people” sound waves and ipods
park bench hosts to afternoon drummers,
as momentum gathers
inner city gardeners and beekeepers
buzzing to the cyber shifts
of “sharing all the world”.

Patience of a thousand, thousand years
we wait for peace.


Details | Haiku |

All About the Music: Bodies

Blundering bodies
Find fulfilment in rhythm;
Let the Music in.


Details | Verse |

Hail and Ice

It Hails
Beautifying Winter
My Nails
Ice in the Center

Oh no
Damn what nonsense
And Yes
Have the License

So Lead
With cars To 
roads of speed
And trees
What snowflake
and Breeze

Oh So cold
Ice in the winter
I'm so bold
Out in the Center

& Outdoors
Tremble like that
Icy Floors
With Classmate

There fall flakes
and I fetch them
Whatever takes
I may catch them

So come on everyone
Freeze your blood
To this wintry one
And Snowflake ton


Details | Free verse |

Dancing with Despair

I have danced while music played,
and smiled, although despairingly,
through tears at smiles not meant for me.
My soft eyes, though brown and drab,
have strived to glitter, with scant success,
as others shone bright, emitting light
beneath their lashes, lush and long.
While I lurched in crazy drunken spirals,
others, precise, performed their pirouettes
and slid across the polished floor
and smiled and laughed and more:
completely at their ease.
What terminal disease decrees
despair my partner in this dance?
Is there no chance to sit the music out,
a listener, discrete, devout?
While others whirl and dip, I slide and slip.
Must I be a half-a-pair with stumbling feet,
inept novice, graceless lout who, led about,
never has an easy air dancing with despair?


Details | Narrative |

Scars

.The survivors. Yes, that's what we call ourselves. We've lived through the terrors of life. 
Gentle hands, soft spoken, safe in his arms. Obey, and listen, and the swirling melody of 
love plays throughout the scene. And yet, this masquerade is always broken to reveal the 
truth. Words sharper than daggers explode around our ears. Bruises appear on our skin. 
We've "fallen", the clumsy females we are. We fell. A sports injury, a car crash, a freak 
accident. Freak accident of hatred. Much like the lion, quiet and stalking, and then exploding 
into a flurry of the hunt. Of the hurt. Swift blows, and blood drips from noses, tears stream 
from eyes in a silver river of desperate please, bruises decorate us in tawnys and majestic 
purples. Reminders of our "wrong doings". We need to pay for our sins. The only witness are 
the walls, and the moonbeams that dance about our dizzy heads. On the ground. Steel toes 
to the back. A crack. Fire. Pain. And then, a cool silence. The rage subsides, and apologies 
appear. "I'll never do it again" and "I lost control" replay in the back of our heads. Our deja-
vu from the previous night. Always the same. Always the pain. The survivors. Thats what we 
call ourselves. And by the dark dance of the moon against the velvet sky, as stars twinkle 
like sequins, and fade into the dawn, we pick ourselves up. New excuses. New plates to buy. 
A new alarm clock. New knives, doors, but no new hearts, stabbed until the hemmoragging 
hurts like a firestorm. Alone. We are alone. We, the Survivors, have lived not an apocalypse, 
not a plane crash, but the darkest part of our lives. Therapy can lock it away, but never 
remove the dark stain of dried blood upon our souls. Lost. We come together, and escape. 
We start anew, but are never the same. Dark dreams, paranoia haunting our shadows, and 
the jumps that come with shattered glass of the clink of dishes. Never the same, but 
stronger. What doesn't kill you is sure to leave a horrible scar, but wounds heal And while 
scars remain as a reminder of the pain endured, we are, for the better, stronger. We 
survived.

.


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