Best Pas 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.
My smile is just for you
although you are so far away
your feet tiptoe around
a shadow
a phantom
your fragrance
temptation
seduction
Once was a day where we were
warm and soft
in morning breeze
I pirouette to you
This corner
two sides protect my back
but i'm so vulnerable
in how i miss you
how my nights are poor
my days are lacking
my aching frame
Every day one small step
makes a waltz
orchestrated
a day where it
doesn't matter
that legs are ethereal
***
July 12, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
PAS MUET
I am a puppy here
The smallest
The skinniest
The silentest (is that even a word)
Stotteraar
Bègue
I wheel my wheels among them
The alpha dogs
The loud ones
I am silent
Bègue
My eyes are open wide
I watch them
Follow their every move
My mouth clammed shut
Bègue
My hands write nervously
On my notepad
With my pencil
My words arranged in neat sentences
Bègue
He understands though
He smiles with fun, no pity there
We go way back
He is my psychiatrist.
Bègue
In silence I contemplate
But silent I am not
My words are multi coloured
I like them
Niet stom
Not mute
Pas muet.
Pas muet.
***
December 30, 2016
Two dancers in sync
We were made for each other
But you're sick with the drink
Twisting and turning
Our steps I do trace
I am locked here alone
In this stoic embrace.
17.04.09
Composed for Charlotte Jade Puddifoot's Open Poetry Contest 2
J'ai appris que jamais, les anges ne mentent
Car tout ce qui est faux, emprisonne nos âmes
Loin d'un ciel bien trop haut, dans un destin infame
Lié au sort mauvais, que la tristesse hante
Si tes mots s'effilochent dans de fourbes vibrations
Comme un pauvre instrument, au son désaccordé
En mon corps je ressens l'absence de vérité
Et chasse sans reproche ces affabulations
Je prie pour le pardon, que la grâce divine
Libère ainsi tes chaines et apporte la lumière
qu'au fond de toi reviennent, nobles paroles sincères
Et renoue le cordon à la paix d'origine
Et souviens toi que tricher, ralentit ton destin
Les anges ne mentent pas, ils ne pourraient pas voler
Le poids du mensonge est trop lourd à porter
Et désormais ta vie est entre tes mains.
The Pope Trips
Humble
Stumble
The Pope Drops His Ferula
Humble
Fumble
The Pope Gets Caught in His Robes
Divine
Decline
Copyright, August 18, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Pardon me sir, but did you not just break wind?
Pardon me sir, but don't you feel a bit chagrined?
Pardon me sir, but I deem your faux pas mighty gross!
Pardon me sir, but you've left me feeling a bit morose!
Pardon me sir, but on this bus we don't enjoy your sop!
Pardon me sir, may I suggest you de-bus at the next stop!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Entry for Poetess Darkly's "Pardon Me, Did You Just..." Contest
Tu le fera, n’est-ce pas, Papa ? – Translation of Kevin Gilbert’s « Won’t you, Dad ? » by T. Wignesan
Si toutes les jolies mélodies
de ce monde eussent été chantées
et toutes les chefs d’œuvres des maîtres
fussent être exhibées dans des meilleurs galléries
et toutes les statues de David et
les poèmes et autres œuvres de l’Homme
eussent été mis à feu pour la joie de la Mort
partout dans le monde,
un petit enfant me regarda et en souriant
et en étant tout fier rempli de l’amour et de la joie
et il dis : «’Tu ne laissera pas qu’on explose la bombe
sur ma tête, Papa. Tu les empêchera, n’est-ce pas, Papa ?’
Son signe d’interrogation
c’était comme un arque entouré
des flammes
Je lui répondis en toute confiance :
‘Nous les empêcherons, mon enfant.’
Mais, dans mon cœur, j’ai peur et l’honte me consume
de faites je PAYE l’HOMME
pour fabriquer la BOMBE
Je lui donne de l’IMPOT pour chanter
sa chanson d’haine
Je tiens le chien de guerre en laisse
Je l’aide à éprouver la haine et la faire croître
Je PAYE l’HOMME pour fabriquer la bombe
pour garder le monde et mon enfant dans la peur
Je ferme mon cœur aux autres êtres humains
comme s’était j’avais peur
quand l’amour est en train de m’approcher
C’est MOI qui suis en faute
c’est MOI qui fais bruler la chanson
c’est moi qui fera bruler la jolie mélodie
parce que j‘ai peur que d’autres humains près de moi
peuvent d’une manière ou l’autre me faire remplir d’amour
la flamme se chauffera et fera fondre les yeux
de mes enfants en train de me regarder
et demander aujourd’hui avec amour
et confiance en moi :
‘Tu les empêcheras de faire tomber la bombe sur moi,
n’est-ce pas, Papa ?’
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
IL NE SUFFIT PAS (IT IS NOT ENOUGH)
Il ne suffit pas de te pardonner.
(It is not enough to forgive you)
Il ne suffit pas de me pardonner.
(It is not enough to forgive me)
Parce que tu m’as trompé.
(Because you cheated on me)
Parce que je t’ai trompé.
(Because I cheated on you)
Tous les deux, nous nous sommes trompés.
(Both of us, we made mistakes)
Alors, il faut se pardonner.
(Therefore we must forgive each other)
Il ne suffit pas de t’excuser.
(It is not enough to excuse you)
Il ne suffit pas de m’excuser.
(It is not enough to excuse me)
Ça ne sert à rien de t’accuser.
(It doesn't accomplish anything to accuse you)
Ça ne sert à rien de m’accuser.
(It doesn't accomplish anything to accuse me)
Il y a de quoi de nous accuser.
(There is reason to accuse us both)
Ça vaut mieux de nous excuser.
(It's better to excuse us both)
Il ne suffit pas de dire «je t’aime».
(It's not enough to say "I love you")
Il ne suffit pas de dire «tu m’aimes».
(It's not enough to say "you love me")
Il faut continuer de se pardonner
(We must continue to forgive each other)
Et s’empêcher de s’accuser.
(And restrain ourselves from accusing each other)
Tous les deux, nous nous sommes trompés.
(Both of us, we made mistakes)
Mais quand même il faut qu’on s’aime.
(However, we must love each other)
Awake at five, warm thighs
remembered dreams
She's alive
All our Love's vicissitudes,
Our amorous, glamorous attitudes
Two Hearts pounding, the grand resounding
With sincerest gratitude
In Perfect Passion, ardor action,
Paramours enraptured fashion
To you devoted, the walls have folded
I lose myself in your attraction...
Everything I have given you,
My Heart, my Soul, my Pas de Deux
Together forever, this sweet endeavor,
Until at last we say adieu
Exultant excitability chase
Leaving a bad taste
A faux-pas of a celebration
In place of jubilation
Camera smiles full of lies
All the party in disguise
Veiled in ceremonious style
Triumphant distractions to beguile
Hush-hush in a clamorous hilarity
A dressed-up gaiety
Revelling with wine and in consternation
Addled and unable to form an illation
The after-truth hurt multiplied
Feelings of exclusion intensified
The devil has been sold a soul through the back door
Of someone I adore
When you get to my old age of eighty-two
You and your doctor, dance a pas de deux
An entrée, an adagio
Dance like two buffaloes
Quite a pretty sight, worth a spleen or two
Stomped by intruding and invasive breed,
Foul footprint of this year is a misdeed -
Two weighty boots with heavy tread
Stirred quite a lot of dirt and dread.
COVID and DONALD just will not concede!
November 23, 2020
For those who lack conviction
Aspirations stay but a mirage
And for those crafting mountains from mole hills
Detriment a deadly barrage
Believers of strange eyes upon them
Flaunt shame as a wristed corsage
And without the courage to soften their hackles
Lie confined in their mind's dank garage
Jongleurs of fabled failures
Treat their worry to massage
Subjecting the rest of their dreadful days
To vexation's entourage
Clever inventors of futuristic fear
Paste pictures to a specious collage
And blame the world around them
Imaginary Sabotage