Mind dancing,
missing steps, not much leaping.
Even so, good enough.
Long time backwards
'Brown Sugar' hip jerking stuff,
white bellbottoms flaring like Day lilies.
We were a floor for others to adore,
microcosms in a single frame universe,
eyes whirring, pinned to the air
with a none-stick-glue.
It was not true dancing,
you have to enter your mind
like a matador
to really step out of yourself
and into the boot clogging
beat of a singular stillness.
Still, even now
at the doorstep of all my unknowing,
I can dance across a mindscape
with a heel-clicking, tightly laced ego.
Good enough, and
better than just
rolling around
like a stone.
Footloose and fancy-free
All eight feet and not so sweet
That sneaky spider's bitten me
What a wild web to weave-
I never saw him... but believe!
I should've worn gloves,
ole' silly goose
I didn't know that IT was loose
I got a bite from a brown recluse!
Today I'm feeling a little bit better
And writing my poetry friends this letter
If you go through boxes in your shed
Heed my warning of spider dread!
I've stopped my task I can't get done
Now dealing with this spider fun
Tho', I'd rather have fun in Disneyland
Than fight infection in my hand!!
Footloose as a child I played games
dancing barefoot in the rain
shoes were only restrictive pain;
too soon I grew
baring everything I was taught and knew
life and friends were a parting few remembered true.
Today I'm older wiser
given to memories lost advisers
with responsibility rising like a geyser;
taking hold of life
in face of reality's spite
surpassing the journey's strife.
In time I suppose
I'll slip into more easy repose
and breathe in all taken and chose;
letting fancy free
be the surviving part of me
missed in youth drifting on the open sea.
For the time being
I'll love and laugh at all I'm seeing.
It's so good to be fancy-free,
To just be me.
I sit beneath this big oak tree
Drinking wine, writing poetry.
No one to tell me, "Hurry up!"
I drink my wine in a coffee cup.
No one to tell me, "Shut up!"
I say what I please, I stand up.
It's good to be footloose
Without my neck in a noose.
Maybe I'm chunky in the caboose
But I know how to turn on the juice.
So take it from me,
Get yourself free.
Lose the noose.
Go naked and footloose!
By: Carole O'Terry Duet
Copyright: May 24, 2017
"All Rights Reserved"
footloose
fancy-free
wish to be
so carefree
not in the cards
for me to my dismay
never was one so free
its not in my DNA i fear
to be such a one
I'm footloose and fancy free.
My youngest daughter is twenty one.
I've just returned from having fun.
Visiting each and every one.
Isn't it bliss to see them grown?
Fully formed adults on their own.
Confident, carefree, full of plans.
Before they settle with a man.
A job well done, I can relax.
Think of only me in fact.
The pitter patter of tiny feet.
Will be the next I have to greet.
I'm not a grandma yet, oh no!
Now is my time to let go.
Travel a little, while I can.
Perhaps meet a new man.
It's a nice way to be, fancy free.
After a life of dedication.
Now it's time for meditation.
Relax, breathe, rejuvenation.
29/04/2017
For Fancy Free contest.
She’s just footloose and fancy free
Doesn’t have a husband like me
She’s lazy and fat
Just like her old cat
I’m pleased she can’t sit on my knee!
I’ve not seen her in over a year
Its her loss - no I won’t shed a tear
Thirty years with no work
A real job she would shirk
She’s made ill-health* her full time career!
Inspired by Fancy Free but not for contest
*For those of you who REALLY know me they will understand the meaning of this poem and its not about someone who is really ill just a fraud.
04~29~17
Just fancy for a moment how free you'd be,
if you could wind back the years, regress and flee
back to when the legacy you now bear
was a fling and flirt, a fancy dance dare.
Just fancy how much a single wrong choice
ruined your life and your chance to rejoice
without care for what you might have become.
How much better, on the flip-side, would you have done?
But no matter!
Those fancy old-faithful shoes, ill fitting, loosely undone,
need to be uncovered, dusted off, polished up anew.
Push hard, you can still squeeze your loose feet in.
Let your hair down, forget
Be fancy free again
Lighten up, have a fling.
Old Dame On A Footloose
She held on to the firm grip of the extended invite
Pent up desires vented out in the market site
Elasticity in the heart of the rumpled weathered skin
Coyly she smiled with hat in the air and stick clanging away
Tantalising onlookers at her rubber bends and silky shapes who
Adoringly were mesmerised at the symphony of music and her youthful heart
Contouring to the swift steps of her guiding young leader
Ultimate joy escalated with the rising crescendoing
Lulled silence and gaping mouths as she danced her first tango
Age no barrier for the old dame on a footloose
Redefining a ravaged body with music in the soul
( Earlier Janauary 18, 2016)
February 15,2016
Screwed 11
Rob Carmack
1
Let’s wait
For the frogs
2
She collects
Poseidon’s cum
3
Drop of
Molluscs
4
Tremendous fruits and birds
Hieronymus
5
Points of view
Trickle
6
Japanese kimono
Sunrise
7
Dead face
Color fades
8
a bird sings
Squiggles
9
Spiders
Ancient spinners of tales
10
Arachnophobia
Like Dali eccentric
11
Emails
Ubiquitous handkerchief
12
Love
Ab inconvenienti
13
Misuse
muse
Rock and roll that's my play
Who wants to stay and sway
Don't care if you're footloose
Any music we'll dance and choose
Smiles; grooving fun that we'll display
1:38 AM
02/24/2014
FOOTLOOSE AND FOOTLESS
Children just don’t remember they’ve got feet
And deliberately fall, giggling - it’s sweet
Treading the leaves in gutter here:
It don’t hurt to fall on your rear.
Bursting handfuls of big yellow leaves -
Oh, what a collection-pattern it weaves:
Red, orange with spots of lavender -
Love-given bouquet for indulgent mother.
Look in the mirror but it’s not you;
The real you is inside you :
Nothing to do with rears or feet.
Being three years old is so neat.
Who does not wish to solve
The enigma of socks
That go AWOL in the wash?
We count them into the machine
And then we try to count them out.
Yet ,no matter how carefully we try,
How often one disappears,
Lost in a black hole of the stratosphere,
Off floating in another universe,
Searching for a foothold,
Safe for socks.,
A sole survivor
Of an alien abduction
To spin yarns for eternity.
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