This is the story of a real murder . . .
I was just five years old and was in my bedroom playing,
we had just moved into to this cozy little basement apartment;
mommy was talking to a man, who was yelling something about money,
then everything went quiet and I came to see what was happening.
Mommy was laying on the floor with eyes like my dolls,
lifeless, and this man I had seen before was standing there;
I ran to mommy, "wake up mommy wake up!" But she was so still,
the man told me he would take me to my daddy who lived not far.
Crying and weeping for my mommy and daddy loudly,
the man told me to, "shut up!" But I couldn't I was afraid;
he stopped the car near a huge field and pulled me out shouting,
I dropped my teddy on the side of the road and I was fighting him.
When mommy did not show up for work the police came,
they found her body and knew she had been murdered;
an amber alert was issued for me (but I was already long dead),
after three days they found my lifeless body in that rural field.
Hundreds gathered for our funeral, family and strangers,
there was music and dancing because we loved to dance;
the talkers were full of thoughts and memories and even poems,
me and mommy were united in life and would be forever in death.
The man had dragged me into the field and I was yelling,
yelling for daddy to come and then he stopped my voice;
he put his hands on my throat and then threw my small body,
as I lay there looking up with dead eyes- there was a rainbow.
I saw a double rainbow and then my beautiful mommy,
was holding me, I asked her why that man murdered us,
she told me, "because I owed him money and I made a mistake,"
our spirits will live on she said, but we will not rest in peace yet,
she whispered, "soon, my daughter we will dance again in heaven . . . "
August 12, 2016
For the Premiere contest, Through Their Eyes #2
sponsor, Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016
She was a tappin' to the tunes...
of those Mississippi blues...
step-pin' out, in her white...
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...
Where Grandma's feet were a stompin',
In her new...New-white-sexy-pat-en-
Copyright © Perry Campanella | Year Posted 2013
My people walk upon the Earth gently,
respectful of those who walked before
whose atoms mingle in the stardust
sprinkled from shore to shining shore.
My people hold Her sacred,
and cling to a long chanted prayer
that all who walk upon Her face
will find sacred teachings there.
My people feel Her spiraling rhythms
And Ghost Dance to Her holy hum.
We touch Her face ever gently
With unquelched tears of countless sum.
She bows her noble, gray head to acknowledge
The many who have been lost,
and none can count the blessings wasted
of their lives forever and savagely tossed.
But, She no longer sings of murder.
She longs for quiet and peaceful fires.
Her green and blossoming outstretched arms
Strong now, promise hopeful and lovely spirals.
It is upward from her dust that we must look for peace
And open our heart past hate and vengence.
Now is our time to dance and welcome back
The sacred Mother of splendid vestal vestige.
Copyright © Chula Fleming | Year Posted 2012
Baby, I saw you starin' at him,
But you ought to give me a whirl;
'Cuz he's a handsome hunk,
But when he gets drunk
Baby, he likes ugly girls.
Yeah, he still lives with his momma,
Even tho' he's thirty-three.
She starches and irons his jeans and shirts
And he brings home new recipes.
She's told him he's good lookin';
Says, "Women are lustin' after you."
But when he takes a pretty woman home,
Momma says, "Son, she won't be true."
Momma says, "Son, if you want good lovin',
A plain and homely gal will provide.
She'll treat you right, mornin' and night,
And keep you satisfied."
So, baby, you can stare at him;
But you ought to give me a whirl.
'Cuz he's a handsome hunk;
but when he gets drunk,
Baby, he likes ugly girls.
Yeah, Baby.....ugly girls.
You don't stand a chance.
And how that boy loves his momma.
Wouldn't you like to dance?
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2015
an exotic dance
performed for the gentlemen –
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2011
Her thoughts drift out the window
on the cool autumn breeze
and a smile creeps upon her withered face
as she remembers the first time she saw
This house that is so old and worn
like her heart
and she sways to the music in her mind
as a tune tumbles from her memory
she dances and twirls across the floor
as the melody carries her dream
back to the days when he was still alive
and would sweep her into his arms
and kiss her wrinkled brow
she stops in mid-stride and a tear rolls
down her leathery cheek
and she smiles
a smile for the love they shared
when they were caught up in their
Copyright © Trudy Diane Rider | Year Posted 2009
Nature’s Single Dad:
The Australian Emu :
The first 55 days
Emund is busy
partners who’ll put
him to the test.
His pedigree line
has proven with time
that it is now his
turn, to be best.
He hears them emerge
from the bush as
they gather in
answer to nature’s
They dance, and then
go away, they know
they cannot stay;
there is not enough
food for them all.
They dip and they
weave as they mingle
that each has a
With his reputation,
there is no
he is ready to join
in the dance.
‘Bonk! Bonk,’ comes
the sound of another
Emulena!’ he says
with a grin.
Others move to the
side as he leaves
to greet this dancer
as she flounces in.
rhythmic movement of
hips she fluffs up
her boa, it bounces
He matches her mood.
His movements are
as they twist and
twirl in their
He does not fuss
about who takes the
lead, he follows and
their dance now is
With steps that are
light he glides to
he meets her, bows
“Sorry, we cannot
stay longer, we all
must find paddocks
It matters not
whether we all stay
we trust you to know
what to do.”
As she speaks, they
deposit their gifts,
and he hears, as in
chorus they say,
“We know you’ll do
magically, what you
to deliver these in
your own way.”
After completing her
task, Emulena stands
tall and she fluffs
up her feathers once
They follow her lead
in twos, and in
and promenade across
the dance floor.
Left all alone, he
goes back to his
duties and looks
closely at each pale
He checks all for
defects. He sees
they are perfect,
so with care he
covers every one
He sticks to his
task for fifty-five
days in sunshine,
strong winds and
He values each
treasure and tends
them with pleasure
as he, turns each
egg every three
Through his long
lashes he sees
danger coming. He
drops his neck down
like a log.
Feathers flying on
high and red fur
he needs to fool
both bird and dog.
The shells have now
turned a dark bluey
green, there’s an
infertile egg in the
This egg will be
food for his hungry
but he won’t eat or
drink, ‘til they
Each day he looks
up, and turns his
head to the sun as
it rises each
He’ll sit day and
night until the
He knows, that time
to be continued...
Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
When I tried you didn't,
When I loved you didn't
When I threw in the towel to please you,
My sister stood up for me,
Opened your eyes
And then you apologized...
Now you tried but I can't
You loved but I can't
You will throw in the towel soon,
For you never were known to try to long...
And now the game is over...
Your an abuser...
And I was raised to win
And I have.
I didn't take my life
And yes you damaged me
But I still got up
And I'll dance in victory.
Copyright © Amanda Savage | Year Posted 2016
These sobs have never stopped and tears still flow
as dripping leaves after a summer's storm;
this wailing son has lost his joy to sorrow
refusing to be consoled; today, your favorite flowers
I lay on your grave and leave you lovely prayers
by the silver cross for you to read and feel warm
on winter's lonely and cold days
that will drift into the sun's fading glow.
This waltz is for you, mother smiling from Heaven...
and I will dance it while the robins
and larks watch, thinking I am mad to have chosen
a place of mourning and tranquility
with cypresses offering a pleasant breeze;
would I do this if I didn't love you truly?
Very, very long ago you took my small hand
and slowly and tenderly taught me how to dance
on a meadow covered with yellow and white daisies;
there was no music, but humming birds sang
the simplest song they ever knew as the gentle wind caressed our sunlit heads
beneath the August sky traversed by torrid clouds that escaped to other seas.
This waltz is for you, mother living in that place of delight,
oh, smile with the same tenderness and care of heart;
would any other desire be more intense
than being together and happily dance
that waltz without pausing...sweetly losing ourselves in idyllic fantasy
and explore happiness in unimaginable ways to shun painful reality?
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2013
The Mother Moon laughed and sang a song,
But it seemed to die
Upon the leaves.
And Sister Stars
Watch me as I dance my way
Through these green fields.
Guide me on my way,
With your magical song.
Without you I don’t know
Where I am
Or what this place can be.
But I will let there branches reach for me.
In this dream,
The leaves stroking my face.
The wind whispers softly my name,
With Mother Moon guiding my way
I know who I am,
Where I am,
And where I can be.
Laughing and singing all the way
I will get there
And Sister Stars
Watch me as I dance my way
Through these green fields.
Copyright © Kara McLain | Year Posted 2011
began, she journeys to the deepest place
following the road laid in her path
nothing now can halt her race for life
welcoming the nourishment within
making ground she digs in for the fight
feeling safe within her calm cocoon
growing more with each new passing day
kicking out she stretches wide her bed
capturing the stuff of life she breathes
drinking deeply from elixirs cup
responding to the sound of mother’s voice
dancing to music only she can hear
written and posted October 2nd 2015
Copyright © Bill Lindsay | Year Posted 2015
The draper shop in Drumshanbo town was busy on the day
The girls were moving bales of cloth and packing shelves away
Are you allowed to dance tonight Jackie's hall we all can sway
It's a ceili Band of Shan-a-han their good to dance and play
Dadddy's working late the pit and Sunday mass must go
The night before this dance you talk a condition don't you know
I will my mother announce to her and mammy will promote
My dress is paid and shelf a laid I'll take now then she wrote
Home that evening gay and trip the thatch upon the hill
Daddy home descends the thrown and says no way you will
Sad and cry by tears to sill and wipe them with the net
A car a pilot steps on out and walks the lane we met
American Uniform proud and boast a cousin from the states
Oh ! Daddy dear please come come here I beg it's not too late
Well fair enough a chaparone took, be home by midnight moon
Oh ! Daddy dear I love you here and Mammy stirred the spoon
Into the dance a pride so strong all girls with jaws a dropp
A stunning man she said at hand an accent slightly lopped
I know that day my mother say one day I'll marry him
But Daddy knows as cousins go not possible a sin
(Snippet of a story involving my mother in 1940s -West of Ireland)
Copyright © Ian Foley | Year Posted 2011
My mother died some time ago
And God took her away,
To begin her dance with Jesus
That continues to this day
She wasn’t her old self that day,
Her memories had flown
He invited mom’s new self to dance,
And the Father took her home
Mom never was a dancer
That I ever heard her claim,
But the steps she does with Jesus
Would put Fred Astaire to shame
Perfect mind in perfect love,
With perfect memory,
As she whirls and twirls with The Lord of the Dance,
And waits with Him for me
My Brother’s up there with her,
I’m sure he cheers her on,
And does a jig or two himself
When Heaven plays the song
My other brother’s with me still,
And our sweet sister too,
The three of us with our dear dad,
Believe all this is true
Mom is up there dancing,
All over Canaan Land,
Perfect in the arms of Jesus,
As He strikes up the band
Copyright © Brian Wallace | Year Posted 2013
Strobe lights loud music
silver glitter balls
reflective tiny stars
dot the dance floor hall.
She was grinding and pumping
body toned tight and fast
she was the centre of attention
her choice her last dance.
She expertly glided
up and down the polished pole
her red satin outfit
simply amplified the show.
As she flawlessly moved
to the chants of the men
drawing into herself
shone a dazzling grin.
Becoming one with the pole
giving it her very all
this was her last song
head high standing tall.
As she smiled and waved
searching deep within her core
for this one final bow
were loud whistles and roars.
She quickly grabbed her outfit
running to the door backstage
in the comfort of her robe
kissed a picture daughter Paige.
I did this for you
my sweet baby girl
for college bound you are
with the money I have earned.
The men cheered loudly
she reached her last goal
turning from the mirror
freely flew her soul.
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006
A baby's basket
bounced two-times two.
Circled chimed towers ring
downtown beep-bop to the rhythm.
Enjoy the music; birds
fly over docks. It's the busy bouncing
great city street lights that
hit the road, shimmer in the dark.
I enjoy watching you dance to the music,
June. The jungle summer parties
kaput from hard rain last summer and were
laden with children screaming
"Mommy, I can't find you."
Nothing stops your dancing. You're
oblivious unless the music stops. I
pace the streets of the city's heart and
quadruple the center of the streets core, two-times-ten
ready to run, run when I know it's your
sassy sway from side to side 'till you
turn in his arms, a fall light as yogurt. It's
undeniable that this baby's basket can bounce, bounce, bounce, so
vulnerable to the splitting of the wood and the crying of the child's
watery mucus clogs her throat and all you hear is wah, wah, wah when
Xenon cries, like cheese cloth dipped in chocolate; hard to hear the
yelling when all you comprehend are feet tapping and music moving all around like
zig, zag, zook until you collapse, cause all you knew was dance, dance, dance.
Copyright © Cynthia Green | Year Posted 2011
Pacabells cannon starts to play. The gates open and everyone looks my way. Beautiful black and red roses line the red carpet that leads to you. You look amazing tonight too. I look at my white dress as I step into the setting sun. The light catches the black sparkles and roses on my dress and makes me look beautiful, makes me feel like one. A black rose on this beautiful LA sand. A black rose that belongs to a wonderful man. I slowly walk down the aisle. I walk up to you and I smile. There's black and red roses on the alter and I get up ther. I can smell their sweet fregrance in the warm evening air. The paster starts as I look at you. You say you vouls and I say mine too. You say "I do," and I do the same too. You slip yet another beautiful ring on my finger and kiss me so sweetly. We hold hands and walk back down the beautiful rose lined aisle.
We walk to the peir where there are beautiful lights hung up everywhere. I spin to look at the beauty and you lean in close to me and say, "wait here." You walk up to the DJ and request and smile as a familure tune comes on. I continue to smile and I take your hand. you walk me back out onto the beautiful sand. "Our first dance," you say. My smile gets bigger when I here Amazed starts to play. You pull me closer to you as we start to move from side to side. My nourvousness is hard to hide. "You okay beautiful?" you ask softly as you gently run your hand through my hair. "Yeah baby, I'm fine," I say as I see people gather around and stare. We dance and we sway sweetly and quietly. We kiss and dance slowly. We kiss again and you start to sing along with the song. I've been waiting for this day, I've been waiting so long.
We'r walking on the beach again. hand in hand. you still in your tux, I'm still in my dress. This is our future. Together. Forever. The setting sun catches my ring. It shines brightly. "I love you," I say and we kiss again. "I love you too," you say and gently pick me up.
You carry me back up to the house. You carry me up sairs and lay me on our bed. You lay beside me and gently kiss my head.
We lay there and talk for hours and hours. We smile and laughas our future stretches on in front of us.
Copyright © Kaylee Landis | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
Upon eve, in the morning of spring, I witnessed the waltz of Mother Nature through the
An apparition, personification of my daydreams, she did a ritual dance on bare-feet, while, I
stooped down (hidden) on bended knee.
All the souls of nature, from the grass to the springs, sprouted to human forms around her.
For she was their Goddess.
An earth quake rippled through the ground up to the air, sound as an awaken soul,
destroying the old with new, an instant out of phase with time; Fantasy clashing with reality.
The scene before me was as dark as it was beautiful, violence intermixed with serenity,
exhilarating my soul with desire. This is how the moment was painted.
The dance floor was a battlefield of motion and form, chaos fueling their souls, the hour:
midnight. Sky was full of an alien audience of stars acting in accordance with their part. Air
held amplified scents from all of nature around them.
Magical beings like animals fighting for supremacy to exist, ripping at each-others souls, at
their organic flesh, shredding each-other into mulch. Music: the cries of the plants.
How deep the torment and content ran within them, ghosts of former selves floating to
heaven like angels. Others, regenerating into the soil their essence, sprouting up in
abundance. Mother nature their mediator. For this was the Waltz of the Seasons.
Then, as quickly as it began, all the magic faded to obscurity as Mother Nature walked on.
Leaving behind the coliseum of change. Leaving behind this reporter, observing through
Copyright © Anthony Souls | Year Posted 2009
She held my tiny fingers
And we jumped each salty wave
Dancing with an angel
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2008