Long Arabesques Poems

Digging my own grave synonymous with a sense of accomplishment

Quite an undertaking
to break ground
figuratively, and symbolically linkedin
while able bodied and mindedness
readies cemetery plot within Elysian Fields
although honestly, and truthfully
as an organ donor,
yours truly opts for...

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Hermann Hesse English Translations

Secretly We Thirst…
by Hermann Hesse
from The Glass Bead Game
translation by Michael R. Burch

Charismatic, spiritual, with the gracefulness of arabesques,
our lives resemble fairies’ pirouettes,
spinning gently through the nothingness
to which we sacrifice our beings...

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Invitations to the Gala
issued by a grave impala
were highly sought out missives 
by the bold and the submissive 
Those omitted uttered curses
shook angry fists or heavy purses
Had they but known that
the price of  admission
was...

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Those trademark circular elements of style in vogue every four years
When the crème de la crème of the athleticism 
presents itself on the world stage
Suspending and transcending any present day internecine conflict
Allowing, enabling, and proffering...

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On the grand stage of the world, under lights of dreams and flickering charm,
We dance our illusions, beneath arcs of sun and mysteries fashioned through dreams vast and warm.
Freedom, a chimera of thoughts and rustling...

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After the Occupational Therapist told me I’d never walk again (see my poem “What She Said”); I was in shock, but my being turned to my ballet days to recall when my legs were strong...

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I objestigate between arabesques and sleep,
fugaciously spasmodic in fluxes and leaps.
I'm indifferent to the misanthropic mocking,
that welltering inflection that I call plockingism.
It's their cheeky syncopated schisms that I rebut,
and yet they slantathunt for the right...

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A long, long time ago, when I was young,
on watching skaters move on Poets’ Pond,
(some gliding with great skill, some taking falls).
I donned skates of my own and I began. . . 
Around, around I...

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Occasionally we should expose the wackier lobe of the brain
in order to better appreciate the more sensible side of the mind.
     ~THIS is one of those times...

I capriole between my arabesques
fugaciously...

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THE NUTCRACKER…SWEET

In my 69 years I had never seen the Nutcracker Suite…never experienced the ballet….never heard Tchaikovsky’s entire score…that is…until yesterday.

As I sat captivated by the music…by the dancing and the fact there were no...

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Dance, dance as child dances before he walks.
Dance in the moon light with stars in sight
Dance to the smiles, in the shadows of love
Dance, dance as child dances before he walks.

Dance is a short cut...

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Memories of Bach

At 17, I performed a solo ballet to Bach
Below a sparkling sky,
On a park’s open green grass.
The choreography flowed.  
I was well-rehearsed.
The opportunity, special, before 
Some of our gathered city’s spectators.
This genius:...

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Extant autobiography devoid
of livingsocial, I berate
whatsapp pining now resultant
outcome coping poorly did create
courtesy, sans avast kindled
linkedin self denigrate

predicated series of unfortunate
events buzzfeeding ill fate
capital one after another pinterest
newpages writers block did generate
countless blank pages interspersed
with...

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     Roads of gold and gates of pearl are thoughts solidified, finding resting place here, 
having been purified, first, in a trial by fire- 
in the bulwarked organ 
of love's pineal...

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Dance, dance as child dances before he walks.
Dance in the moon light with stars in sight
Dance to the smiles, in the shadows of love
Dance, dance as child dances before he walks.

Dance is a short cut...

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Maestro – 4-23-24
Dedicated to Dr. Stanley Chapple.  Co-founder of Tanglewood. Conductor of the London Philharmonic.   Head of the Music School University of Washington.  Conductor of the University of Washington Symphony Orchestra....

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old post from last year.....

"Music Maestro," the conductor turns-
 The curtain rises and the ballet begins,
People sit on the edge of their seats-
Tasting the sweetness of the violins-

Dancers make not a single sound,
As their slippers...

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Glowering heavens, ponderous, intense 
With weighty, cumbersome charcoal clouds,
Drawing close enough to touch, 
Deeply sigh with promise.
Profound luminosity emanates
From the garden's green soul
And colors, blossoms' pure power,
Of carmine, cobalt and gold
Compete for the observer's eye,
Eager...

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I’m ready for investing in some ballroom real estate.
The music starts at nine o’clock; we’ll get there half past eight.
Be sure to wear your sexy dress. I’ll wear my sexy pants.
The rooftop lounge is under...

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Reflections on a photograph of Audrey Hepburn

I know those eyes, that haunt my dreams and 
Fan my fevered imagination; they are windows
Into the soul, messengers of my fate.
To look within is to face oneself, and...

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Like delicate white swans were they,
the white swans of a grand ballet -
ballerinas waiting in a row
underneath the candlelight’s soft glow.

But what are ballerinas with no parts
to make them dance? The poet gives them hearts!
Inking...

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The Kodaks of memory fade

The Kodaks of memory fade until all that remain
Are the sparkle of your eyes and the arabesques 
Of your lips; haunting ghosts in muted hues, limp
Postcards discovered in a rummage through...

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The town pond was drained,
revealing minnows
wriggling in the residual water
they milled and turned
in silvered arabesques
choregraphed by a rippling wind.

Large ocean-going gulls
descended out of a troubled sky,
they walked among the writhing small fry
plucked out the little...

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Summer comes all clothed in green,
To paint the path of a passing scene.
Wheat in the field bound in sheaves,
Shares the glory of gold tipped leaves.

Gossamer drops of morning dew,
Lie on a bed of radiant blue;
And...

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Red

Red rag to a bull. It’s funny how
That makes me smile inside: I think of
Your hair and how it entrances me.
Red hair; and me, stamping and snorting inside
As those shiny waves sway and swirl, heavy,
Chestnut...

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