I was just trying to save face
When I tripped on my own shoe lace
To the floor face first
Then up with a burst
Break dancing was born from my grace
There was a girl in a night club,
Who tripped in that crowded pub.
She bruised her left arm,
But laughed off the harm,
And danced while a dog ate her grub.
Once Clara arrived, and she beamed with pride -
Applause, after all they were horrified…
In Autumn, a fall;
The Belle of the ball;
The dance of her life, where she could have died.
To cry is a shame and to laugh is lame.
For once down the stairs (do you know this dame?)
She stumbled a waltz…
Could you get her salts?
She’d dance with the stars and a solid frame.
You will never believe what I should see,
but three blue-grey birds on the branch of a tree.
I do not think that they were finches,
though they were only about five inches.
Sporadically, each, in turn, would hop,
as they composed the gnatcatcher bop.
I was trying to be debonair,
but my feet proved an unwieldy pair.
I fell flat on my face
but recovered with grace.
Then I danced like the great Fred Astaire.
unknown to him
I watched from the shadows of
rocks far below
he, dancing like a scarecrow atop the
cliff edge, limbs at unnatural
angles, broad grin of
chiseled teeth gleaming in the wan light of
the moon, looking up to spit
blood at its face
making sadistic biting gestures
almost as if he could taste
the pale blue beams ... or nip
them off, thus …
maybe he could, this
Demon of Lies, for the darkest magic
was his faith and forte
most any miracle, his, tho' cursed
(as payment for his powers)
to never take his
own form, wearing instead
the sinews of those who
sold their souls for desire and deceit …
yes, I watched intently as he
spun his grotesque jig
cackling with impiety, for a NEW flesh
hung loose upon his skeleton
and its face ...
was my own.
Copyright © 2019 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )
Summer has almost passed
in the Southwest -- slight
edge taken off, optimistic
with the shorter days --
shorter, darker days
has nothing to do with
spiritual content, in the
desert -- God blesses those
who survive as well as the
blistered dead. Fall, we
start leaving our dens,
our human bear connection.
Dare we venture back into
the sunny days? Looking
forward to garments, and
cold water from the cold water
tap -- colored leaves and crispy,
crunching while walking is
evident to the mountain dwellers --
but in the valley deserts, Fall is
recognized more by the thawing,
so to speak -- our season of cooler
drippy celebration! A chance for
splashing in puddles, and doing
happy Rain-dances! Monsoon
for Desert Rat Bloom! Maybe
I will even shave before taking
my first Winter Airing.
I stumbled straight down by surprise,
To laughter and widening eyes-
But I jumped to my feet,
Made the misstep a beat
and waltzed as the crowd cheered my rise.
I tripped and stumbled over my big feet
While walking down a very crowded street.
With laughter I arose
Assumed a dancing pose
Then tripped the light fandango really neat.
Recall that rib-tickling comic named Dick
Boundlessly, he performed many a schtick.
He could trip over his own feet
and dance never missing a beat.
Me? I just fall on my face - Fiddlesticks!
Clumsy oaf that I am, I get in my way;
sometimes when I move, my feet want to stay.
It's an art to stumble then rise.
I blame my shoes which are queen-size,
rub my head and say, "This just ain't my day!"
Pumpkins are made
For pies
And pies are made
For jack-o-lanterns
To
Please little girls
Who ride swings high over the city on
Cold
Mornings when others
Have found the schoolhouse
Under the ghetto waiting to transform the little leftovers
Into Wallstreetbogeymen scaring the country into
Unwanted
Growth claiming ‘More Pumpkins Are Better.’
The swing's chains are cold in late October
The seat can be wet
She
In her own glory does
Not
Notice the silence. Dreaming of
Dancing at the Met exposing truth to the music of Mendelssohn.
We linger
On the damp cool October morn
She peruses the skyline looking for the
Spot she might run to
As the swing finds a higher plane.
A girl with a giggle so grand,
Tripped on her own feet and landed.
She fell with a spin,
Then let the dance begin.
And twirled with the crown close at hand.
On a dreamy evening, when stars dance on the velvet sky,
His hands, like shadows, clasped my neck in an endless waltz,
My breath, like a wisp of smoke, fades in the sweet dusk.
A hammer rose, shattering the silence of my fragile skull,
Red blood, like a river of rubies, flows on the pure snow,
White as the souls that are lost in the eternal abyss of night.
The orange sky, shedding its skin like a lost dream,
Turns to blue, then to black, akin to my body,
The sky descends to embrace me in its infinite arms.
His blow, a background song, accompanying the final dance,
'What a sweet night,' I tell myself, becoming one with the velvet sky,
One with the snow that embraces my life stolen by the cold breath.
All thanks to his powerful blow that sealed fate,
And thus I was lost in the night, in the embrace of the eternal,
A dream and a memory, merging into the cosmic silence.
Through the clouds, breezing trees
Angels dance to a song by thee
Dressed in white, wings of purity
Peaceful blissful golden clarity
Rays of light, bursts of laughter
Hopeful sunshine, forgotten thunder
Forever waltzing to sweet tunes
Flying higher than balloons
Innocence captured in their eyes
Always smiling, no need for cries
Never tainted, protected by power
Pedals can't be pulled from flowers
Gracefully singing along to the song
Heavenly sent, no burden belongs
Radiantly, comfortably children forever
From January to December.......
Miss Juliette trips the light fantastic
To temporary, temporal, tempo clocks
Pirouettes and dips, like tight elastic
In her bustles and bows and bobby socks
A whirlybird, a wonder, a wisp of the wind
Tippy-toeing to tantalize her toes
Spinning and grinning, unaware of the wind
Tippy-toe tapping to where the wind blows
Specific Types of Dance Poems
Read wonderful dance poetry on the following sub-topics:
ballet, beautiful, belly, celebration, country, flamenco, folk, foxtrot, funny, hip-hop, life, jazz, love, modern, moonlight, rhyme, rumba, salsa, skillful, swing, tap, tango, waltz, western
and more.
Definition | What is Dance in Poetry?
Poems Related to Dance
ballet, boogie, conga, cut a rug, dancing, disco, foxtrot, get down, hip hop, hoedown, hustle, jazz, jive, one step, prance, rock, rumba, samba, sock hop, tango,