Best Footwork Poems
HEARTBEATS ON PAS FE DEUX
Starstruck by your smile as I opened my eyes
Snow-white cheeks glows to peaches sweet
Running fingertip to heart shaped lips
As spring breeze kiss, I am a lady longing to grow
Fear a lost shadow because warmth flows
With your presence alone, I am soppy blown
You bestow me a new life within a universe that's dark
Walk with me, don't you depart
Let's decorate views: a tapestry of you and me
Man ... how quick you boil my fire
Your heart thumps a crystal chime choir
Cushioned pleased from your musky scent
Words weak and not needed for us to speak
Beside the hearth, let's dance our anthem real slow
as our heartbeats jive in a pas de deux
If by chance you catch my eye
I hope for you to see our sparkles high...
Our footwork a unison graceful cruise
Two become one in this dance we choose
Best given as we don't wanna to lose
© O. E. Guillermo
October 24, 2014; 10:27pm
***Inspired by the poem made by James Fraser: THE FONDER OF YOU
***PAS DE DEUX (French, literally "step of two") is a dance duet in which two dancers, typically a male and a female, perform ballet steps together. The pas de deux is characteristic of classical ballet and can be found in many well-known ballets, including Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake, and Giselle.
Categories:
footwork, feelings, first love, love,
Form:
Rhyme
We are not familiar –
we are city dwellers.
We have passed each other
on crowded city streets.
Proud yellows protruding
through concrete cracks.
I have danced with “lady slippers”
in a shaded cluster of trees –
marveled at their footwork,
I have cheered the dandelion,
that tenacious little terror,
for its unrelenting determination
to survive our mindless hate.
Small purple bells hang -
silent chimes adrift on
winnowing winds.
Bright red, the spiral twirl
of hybrid wanderers,
bred of pollinations need.
White buds of frostily
exhaled “babies breath”
lay low against the shrubs.
So I walk the city,
untamed gardens,
each earthy patch a home
where beauty may take root,
smile at passersby.
I thank the fickle winds of fate
for taunting the towering
shade makers, planting
each colored sun drop
amid the gray.
We are not “familiar”
we are city dwellers.
John G. Lawless
4/16/2016
Categories:
footwork, flower, spring,
Form:
Free verse
Swings and hides in the kangaroo court.
The bulldog drops him with one report.
He struggles and fights to stay on his feet.
His fancy footwork skips every beat.
Bob and weave, stick and move.
He floats like a kangaroo with no groove.
Pathetic and weak and nothing original.
He hides in the bush like an aboriginal.
Come on sparky, show me something new.
Are you tired of the bulldog beating you black and blue?
A kick in the rear is what you need.
Your sorry punches are lacking speed.
You think you’re cool with your big mouth.
True north is where I am. You’re going south.
You’ve got no power to your punch.
This Bulldog eats Kangaroos for lunch.
Categories:
footwork, anti bullying,
Form:
Rhyme
We danced like this
A fit of madness, twirling around
round as the beat drowned
drowned out sounds of outside melodies
unwanted tunes, I danced with you
black dress of luxurious lace swept low
Encasing legs perfectly porcelain
Fanciful footwork-I led you-you led me
In this symbiotic synchronicity
The light cast down illuminate
a striking angle of your face
smiling, a twirl, hands in mine
around the floor, intertwined
hands in mine
A room looked on...no notice, no matter
Removed from their critique
judgement, opinion.......all words of others
They mingled into sounds of nothing
noise lost in our self-made song
Eyes locked to speak all unsaid
I kissed your pouted lips instead
our steps never un synched.......
We waltzed on as the night made dawn
The floor beneath was then sand
The ceiling now sky...now you and I
The makers of noise, a memory to forget
Just an inner existence of two
Each day we dance this way
Making song and venue all the same
Taking turns at leading step
For which of us hears the music
Will lead the other in a dance through it.....
Categories:
footwork, depression, inspirational, lovedance, dance,
Form:
Free verse
With speedy, gutsy ease
her Irish father rolls up the front room rug
Gaelic music lathers the air in merriment
Nelligen at 8, composed
snags our attention
in hard shoe clicking
her rapid, intricate footwork
its drumming effect, a heart pulsating
Nell's rigid torso
that trails upward to white-blond hair
bouncing,
catching light like weightless feathers
Small feet in black hard shoes
tapping
from toes to heels
Image fixed in place like her pale rose-bud skin
Up against the wall, I mimic her movements
My feet a tangled jigsaw
She laughs, kisses my cheek, tousles my hair
like tufts of grass
At 9, I want to go to her, to cradle her state of grace
for however long we are children
The suddenness of age frames our winter
A peer backwards through a series of lenses
to stitched moments that slide in memory
foot taps through our rooms
I know full well that I am responsible for my own mis-steps
for sitting out her dances
for never solving most puzzles
even when I pull back
from now
Poem composed: June 13, 2021
Categories:
footwork, age, child, children, dance,
Form:
Free verse
The once was a man from Dunkirk.
The war came and he went berserk.
In the French battle field,
Local harlots did yield.
Escape came by fancy footwork.
© January 16, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Categories:
footwork, political, social
Form:
Limerick
Argentina's son, a lineage to immigrants
shaped by boyhood aspirations
diminutive left foot striker
taunted "dwarf" in childhood
his growth hormone deficiency
overcome through meds and workouts
a counter to foes physically imposing
Messi's daily slog of skills
agility and balance
slow grind of mastery to mesh the skills to speed
on the football field, Messi dribbles through opponents
pivots round defenders, takes an opposite direction
accelerates
de-accelerates
takes stock of field positions
awareness like a lordly hawk that calculates its prey
a kick triggered whittles through the air
the ball's stinging centre,
flight controlled
at a goal keeper spiralling to the ground
this FIFA World Cup champion
devout in faith
celebrates goals by a gaze upward
a pointed hand to the heavens
another field of his embracing
790 - Messi's career goals for Barcelona clubs and
Argentinean glory
football awards that roll on like credits on a movie screen
on field moves that burrow into memory
through the entanglement of limbs
Messi's footwork, like a dancer's gift
his sprints to fill the field with unheeding power
midst the bulging roar of fans
a homage to glorify the footballer
before he fades
to legend
Poem written January 4, 2023
Categories:
footwork, inspiration, soccer, sports, star,
Form:
Free verse
For most of his
Bumming around days
He was lost
In dead end jobs
Once in the gym
He became a silhouette of youth
Weaving like a cobra
Slipping
Countering
Learning how to hook
Footwork and poise
A moving target
Possessing speed
And brutal power
Waiting
To connect
On
Flesh and bone.
All his life
He searched for what was missing
His dream
Was to be champion
Months
Years of solitary training
Was the price he gladly paid.
The ring waited
Patiently
Knowing that he lived for the moment
When all was a blur
Of sudden activity
Moving shadows
And the roar of the crowd.
Years go by
Another decade
Another time
The city moves on
In a singular rhythm all its own
For him
Time now stands still
In a quiet place
Of warm sunlight
Streaming through an open window
A place of
Old fight posters
And faded photographs.
He won a title
Had good times
Some laughs
Traveled with an entourage
Met the famous
Parties came and went
And so did his money.
Holding the yellowed clipping
The old thrill
Returned
He felt strong again
The bright lights were on
The roar of the crowd
Was louder than he ever remembered
The smart money and the ladies were in front
All eyes on him
Bobbing and weaving in the empty gym
He stopped to catch his breathe
Raising his hands in triumph
He knew that in the bottom of his gut
No matter what anyone said or did
In the ring
He had fought and lived like a champion.
Categories:
footwork, life
Form:
Narrative
Faith Without Work
Things will fit better
if you first bother
to measure.
Follow through
on what you ask
God to do.
I do not blame
God who has
blessed you with
a brain
insight will
make it plain.
Progress
requires care
A little footwork.
"Elbow Grease".
Should always
accompany
your prayers.
If your creator
seems distant
he is waiting
for you to put
some "motion"
behind your
E-motions..
Go and become
a steward
of your own
blessings.
what you ask
God to put
into motion,
"claim"
You know all that
"faith"
and no work....
and you
Not budging,
while waiting on
"change".
Categories:
footwork, blessing, faith, prayer,
Form:
Verse
Click a tee, click a tee, click a tee click,
Flick a dee, fick a dee, fick a dee, flick,
I do all of this to attract you my dear,
To lose you is my only fear,
I’ll sing you my song, tra la la, tra la la,
But I have many ways to impress you.
Spring is in the air, and I’m at my best,
Look at my red ruffled feathers on my chest,
My irresistible colorful plumage you won’t resist,
I want to show off to you, please watch me I insist.
I do not mind that you look quite dowdy
That is why we males are the dancing rowdy
Watch me swing from a tree my love
Notice my dangling dazzling feathers from high above
As I tumble down through the sky towards you,
Do you want to watch me whilst I run over water,
Doobey doobey doobey da, do doobey da do.
I have prepared many a nest for you, please
Choose one be my mate, don’t tease,
This one I’ve swept the garden clean with a twig,
Have decorated it with pebbles and flowers,
I’ve spent many hours
And I’ve built the nest with an exquisite view
While you lie with our chicks watching the blue
Sky, now I will dance for you
You can dance with me if you want,
As we bond, follow my fancy footwork when we slide
And definitely glide
Along a branch, and maybe by now you might.
Think I’m right
There, you have shown me I’m the one,
Agile, handsome, colorful and trim
And you are so pretty and slim,
Come, let’s enter our love nest,
With an avid zest.
Chirp a do, chirp a do, chirp a do, do!
Categories:
footwork, bird,
Form:
Free verse
Beautiful music warms my cochlea
Awesome footwork amuse my cornea
The spectacle dazzle my cerebrum
Oh splendid scenery,feed my Organs
Categories:
footwork, happiness, imagination
Form:
Idyll (Idyl)
Infamous girl
you sank to a grave dug with a silver spoon
infamous girl
you drag your dress across an ill fated field lit by the moon
Lure you, comfort you, f-ck you, toss you
put this cycle on repeat, spin in your own spit
This is a damning of the innocent hearts turned noir
Bang out of your intentions, or what’s left of them anyway
The music thumps in corridors made by the misfits who mishandle your direction
Your phoenix rose into this glorious infection
Infamous girl
you rang the bells at your own funeral
the parlor was set, the flowers arranged, but everyone showed up in white
They smiled at the tint of your skin
they reveled in the story of your sin
No one talks about the whore after she’s been buried underneath
six feet of earth and concrete
They remember the scabs and fancy footwork you used to get there
The past has been erased, the bobby pins and the pigtails in your hair
The past has been deleted for knee high boots slouched against a strangers chair
the blips of actions before you ceased are the talk of the town
of why you aren’t spreading your filth since you’re resting in the ground
Categories:
footwork, art
Form:
Free verse
The Zweiback Warrior
Zweiback cookies – teething biscuits
Yucky, gnawed upon, gummed delights
Xeric surface absorbing wanton drool
Wielded, by the toothless cherub, in
Valiant fencing stance encumbered by
Unsteady footwork of diapered distress.
Tongue licking the blunted sword tip
Short sticky fingers grasping the hilt
Reeling under the self’s relentless
Quest to free the imprisoned.
Pursed lips immune to all assaults,
Open gates of tormented demon
Nourished by the wailing
Moans of twice baked relief,
Lulled into the whimpering
Kingdom of the succulent biscotti.
Jaws clenched on mercy’s mushiness
Ingesting its flavored fluids,
Holding the healing wand
Gripping it tightly lest it be lost.
Featureless, the ravaged cookie, is
Eased from the grasp of the
Duelist sleeping hand.
Champion of the
Battle for
A tooth.
7/12/2015
submitted to – Abecedarian – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton
Categories:
footwork, children, humor, metaphor,
Form:
Abecedarian
Dips and TURNS are all part
Delicate footwork too
Dedication a must . . .
Daily l o n g rehearsals
D i z z y spinning is fun
Difficult leaping moves
DELIGHTFUL the applause . . .
_______________
August 28, 2016
Poetry/Pleisades/Verse/Dance
Copyright Protected, ID 16-824-005-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Pleisades D
sponsor, Kim Merryman
Fourth Place
Categories:
footwork, dance,
Form:
Verse
Someone’s wearing horns.
“I keep turning ideas ‘round and ‘round,” these are your words not mine.
Let’s dance, El Toro.
Jagged footwork, chaotic turn of events, graceful flip-flopping of antics; the trick is to hold your stance so he can’t plow through you. Close your eyes so you can’t see his smile. It’s the only line of defense.
Twirling images of skin like red satin falling in a downward pirouette.
Let’s scheme, El Toro.
This is dangerous ground we’re stomping on.
Someone’s wearing strings.
“But, you’re taken,” these are my words not yours.
Let’s dance, Geppetto.
Guilt ridden irony, daydreaming about scenarios, and the act of being controlled- just keep following the pull and listening to your master. Entertain the boundaries and adhere to the rules. It’s the only way of survival.
Tangled visions of life, like twine knotted in the midst of your grand production.
Let’s scheme, Geppetto.
This is a shaky stage we’re performing on.
Sweet melodious conscience, the Devil’s cello is humming.
Please don’t ask me twice.
Please don’t ask me thrice.
Categories:
footwork, betrayal, confusion, corruption, emotions,
Form:
Free verse