Long Dancers Poems
Long Dancers Poems. Below are the most popular long Dancers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dancers poems by poem length and keyword.
Beware the dancers who’ve ascended from hell,
who come to the swamp lands or elsewhere at night.
They transfix their victims and try to steal their souls,
causing them to dance with them beneath the moonlight.
If you should be caught by them, focus your mind.
Don’t look at the doom in their soulless eyes.
Pray to your God to help you to escape,
for demons we humans have to despise.
Pray hard, pleading, “Wickedness, be gone.”
To their music don’t let your body sway.
If you die, it needs to be to God’s light
that you let yourself be carried away.
Your life is precious, so take pleasure in it.
And do your best to live your life well
so you may avoid with your last breath
the dancers who waltz dead souls down to hell.
The world is slowly turning
We're all danncers
The song is full of depth
Drenching us in meaning
I watch you as you dance
In the arms of the moon
How unaware of me you are
I'm a long faded dream
Or perhaps a nightmare
That you've forgotten
My heart is clinching
My emotions are spinning
The song fills my ears
Your voice fills my heart
We're dancing so close
And yet we're so far apart
Separated by two realities
You no longer exist in mine
And I no longer exist in yours
The rose bears corrupt thorns
Stabbing me in the heart
In the middle of the dance floor
I slowly fall to my knees
At the end of it all
You're the only one who could
Bring me back to life
At the end of it all
You're the only one who could
End the life devoted to you
The world is slowly turning
We're all dancers
The song is full of depth
Drenching us in meaning
I watch as you slowly fade
Into the arms of the moon
The music comes to an end
And I'm dying all alone
We were born with the gift of healing in our blood, we did not become healers along life's winding path,
We came as springs of solace, carrying the essence of healing like an ancient and sacred song,
Some of us are still searching for our deep roots in the soil of our being, discovering ourselves in the silence of time,
We came as storytellers, not by chance, but because we carried stories in our hearts always,
We are the songs of our ancestors, alive in every whisper of the wind passing through the vines of memories,
Some of us are still seeking our voice among the echoes of the past, weaving threads of gold and silver from history,
We were born artists, we did not become painters or sculptors under the weight of the world,
We came with art in our souls, we are rainbows woven into the fabric of life, vibrating with every color,
Some of us are still drawing our outlines on the canvas of destiny, seeking our own shades,
We did not become writers, dancers, musicians, peacemakers, but arrived as such spirits,
We are the symphony of creation, some still discovering their rhythm in the vast orchestra of existence,
We did not learn love along the journey, but came as love, we are the heart that beats eternally,
Some of us are still following the call, seeking to reveal love in every gesture, in every word,
We are explorers of the soul, sculpting reality with our bold and silent dreams,
As we seek meaning in the delicate weave of existence, we lose and find ourselves in the cosmic dance,
Like stars burning with pure passion, guiding seekers of truth along the paths of light and shadows.
SMALL WORLD WATERS... NAZRIEL!
As i sat in a nite club..
sipping sodas as i was too stressed
to enjoy my guinness...with michael powa..
a catch phrase used to advertise
my favorite bottle...
then in walked NAZRIEL
Pretty NATZ.. A nick name...
had a companion... weird..
is an understatement...
no words were needed i..
sat immobilized.....
the eagles blended in..
Nazriel playing intoxicated-
me not buying it
natz... playing with dem pole dancers
natz eyes me..
the eagle folds his arm around her..
protecting pretty natz..
The eagles have landed in our city
i have encountered one too many..
and no one seems concerned...
this one has been around for decades..
lets cal him its-rael
No one knows why the eagles landed
talk of missing Isaiah chapters..
talk of the secret of the seven.. thunders
miracles don't amaze any more
for the eagles have landed...
and sweet NAZRIEL is one of them
by lewis nyaga
If It Bleeds After Scratching It
If it bleeds after scratching it, then you went too far.
I see a parade of dead people walking by me in this old dream.
They are eating bananas and I recognize their faces as friends,
I hear their familiar voices, and I wish I can talk to them again.
Then, as if a switch is flipped they can speak through the veil.
They tell me of fantastic sights to behold after dying from earth.
If it cries in pain after stabbing it, then you went too far.
I see dead girls from my past walking by me in another dream.
They are naked on the floor in the back room darkness.
I hear the familiar music of Copland and Gershwin on a record player.
I see young bodies squirming in a vague grunting candlelight.
They move by me like floating temple dancers in the moonlight.
If it says nothing after screaming at it, then you went too far.
I see dead friends huddled on a sofa inside my old childhood house.
They are sitting like wooden statues listening to my mother play the organ.
My mother is pressing the pedals barefooted as she fingers the Anniversary Waltz,
And my dead friends clap as she looks at everyone for approval as she plays;
The ghost in the basement loves to waltz, and I can hear him dancing down there.
The road is open wide for everyone to drive, the road is open wide for everyone to experience a better life, those living at the back door have to move closer to the shore and those that have no place to go can join a new team if you are not mean.
I have no faith in reasons; one that has put mankind out of season, when the logic is right you have to make the right choice before you roll the dice.
Keep your heads up when you are in the rut and ride like a wild horse with destiny up and down the track , the universe will embrace you and the galaxy will comfort you.
The road is open wide for everyone to take a ride, stop at the petrol station and full up your tanks, go to the convenient store and order beer galore, get some chicken burger, hamburger and pork burger, add some chicken wings and chicken nuggets to the list, add a bucket of fried potato chips and fill up your dish.
Today is junk food day so don’t let your belly go astray, today is junk food day you will have it your own way. You can eat and scream on the road, full up your jaws or vomit through your claw and when the day is done you can tell everyone that you had clean fun.
The road is open wide for everyone to come and join. The concert is on so bring a friend and join the notorious band, it is blow out time so come and join the summer ride, the bells are ringing, the children are singing, the dancers are on the floor and the audience is shouting for more.
I have all forms of music to synchronize with your mood, oldies and goodies to lift you out of the precipice; calypso and hip-hop to make you feel hot. The classical and modern sound will lift you out of the dark and the rhythms and the blues will give you brand new shoes.
The road is open wide so let’s have some fun tonight. Passion is running wild and romance is flying in the sky. The submarine is resurrected from the bottom of the stream to coordinate with my dreams,.
I don’t have much ambition but I am destined to carry on, I will pull you out of the gutter and give you a seat around the table to join the debate and have a slice of the cake before it is too late. The road is open, let’s go and conquer the rest of the show.
Spring's fragrances seduce honey bees that nestle inside each delicate flower. I watch their flight from daffodils to hive, while butterflies hover over milkweed, laying fragile eggs. In tandem they flutter; a ballet with a multitude of dancers that convert my yard into a magical stage. I hear a symphony of trills; a serenade from wrens and cardinals, adding to the ambience. The bird bath seems to be a meeting place for avian to play.
feathered ones gather
in maples they alight ~
warbler's sonata
Sunlight kisses lush petals of lavender and hyacinth, as a zephyr breeze stirs their sweet perfume. I am enrapt at the sight of such splendor. Tea roses have budded, and will soon open velvet petals to line my cobblestone walkway. Hummingbirds are visiting morning glory and tulips. What a delightful Spring morning!
garden awash
with resurgence of life ~
spring symbiosis
\
March 22, 2021
Springtime Haibun Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
Beneath umbra skies I seek a mirrored moment
the breeze a capricious charmer
blows serpentine sways to life
a ballet of tall switchgrass dancers
sweeping edges raspy green
dulling in the ever dimming light
their brassy symphony a soft cymbals’ siss
lure my thoughts to ramble a willowy maze
mesmerizing my mental landscape at sunset
whispers lulling my linger
moon-shimmer lends its voice
to chanting chimes in magenta magic
dropping notes afloat on aging August’s currents
like a sprinkling of stardust
upon a cradlesong
hymns of Venus vespers soothing me
my silhouette glides
a twilight shadow an astral body
with a vitality all its own
as the unwed wind ushers
my air brushed footsteps
to where wild whimsy wafts my sighs
free from fetters
a fading breath liberated to dusk
vibrations in violet call my name
I have found the echo to my essence
a spirit aswirl in a whirl of charcoal veils -
I seize a sylph’s escape
and amidst the darkened veils.. we dance
Susan Ashley
August 24, 2019
~ Fifth Place ~
Premiere Contest: A Brain Strand Choice No 1185
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 8
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ First Place ~
Contest: N/A Rerun 3
Sponsor: John Hamilton
~ Poem Of The Week ~
Week of September 1, 2019
WORLD FAMOUS
HE WANTED OUT OF THE CONTRACTILE PAPERS THAT LIMITED
HIS PRESENT EXISTENCE.
HE COACHED BEYOND WELL.
HE TURNED AMATEURS INTO NEAR CLOSE PRO'S: BUT THEY REFUSED TO SHINE
THEY REFUSED TO BE OUTSPOKEN, THEY REFUSED TO ADD THE COHESION THEY NEEDED
TO BE BEST AMONGST THEMSELVES: AND BEST IN THE WORLD THEY WORKED IN.
INSIGHT OF FAILURE HE RECOGNIZED HIS PRESENT POSITION
AND DOUBTED HE COULD
ENCOURAGE THOSE WHO FOLLOWED HIM TO BE BETTER THAN THEY WERE.
HE WANTED OUT OF HIS CONTRACT: BUT A CLAUSE LIMITED HIM FROM ASKING TO LEAVE.
SO HE DEVISED A SCHEME, TO HAVE THE STAFF ASK HIM TO LEAVE.
HE TOLD HIS FRIEND WHAT HE WAS GONNA DO, AND HIS FRIEND ADVISED HIS AGAINST IT.
DAYS AFTER TALKING TO HIS FRIEND, A WOMAN APPROACHED HIM AND ASKED IF SHE AND HER CAMERA CREW COULD FOLLOW HIM AROUND FOR A FEW DAYS TO
DO A DOCUMENTARY ON SUCCESS AND RUGBY. HE ALLOWED THE CREW TO FOLLOW HIM, THE WOMAN KNEW OF HIS PLAN, AND NEVER SPOKE OF IT.
SHE WANTED TO SEE IF HE'D CARRY OUT WHAT HE HAD TOLD HIS FRIEND IN CONFIDENCE, AND HIS FRIEND HAD LEAKED.
WELL THE COACH, ORDERED A TEAM MEETING, AND SAID THEY HAD TO MEET HIM AT A RESTAURANT IN TOWN, TO GO OVER NEW PLANS.
HE ASKED EVERYONE TO ORDER THE SAME THING, " A ROARING hOTTIE" HE SAID IT WAS A SWEET CHICKEN DISH AND IT WOULD COST $25.00 A PLATE.
WELL THE DAY CAME FOR THE TEAM TO MEET AT THE RESTURAUNT, THEY WENT IN AND SAT DOWN. THE COACH CALLED THEM AND TOLD THEM HE'D BE THERE IN 30 MINUTES. HE TOLD THE TEAM CAPTAIN TO ORDER THE "SWEET HOTTIES' AND BY THE TIME THEY'D BE SERVING HE'D BE WALKING THROUGHT THE DOOR.
WELL THE TEAM CAPTAIN ORDERED THE "SWEET HOTTIES" AND THEY SAT DOWN AND WAITED FOR THE COACH.
THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN THE CURTAIN FLOW OPEN AND DANCERS CAME OUT AND GREETED THE TEAM.
THEY WERE MOALO DANCIE' WHILE THEY DANCED WITH THE RELUCTANT TEAM A CAMERA CREW FILMED, AND THE DANCER GAVE
THE TEAM CAPTAIN A LETTER.
HE READ THE LETTER AND IT SAID.
WE'D BE IN FIRST PLACE BY NOW
IF YOU BUNCH OF --------------'S
WOULD DO YOUR DAMN JOB
i QUIT!
SIGNED
"THE cOACH"
"The Poverty in His Mind"
The poverty in his mind
watches the words
ticking in time
like arms and legs
locked in hot rhyme
some Salvador Dali melting
killer metronome
the daily mail
letters of love
pushed through music to
guardian benign
there in the cloudy sky
like tiny dancers in a nightclub
lonely shining
unearthly lights
single and uneasy
he sees what she sees
he watches her, then
closes his blinds
his neighbour lies
hypnotised
under the milky way
watches him supine
he sees her
through the white noise
She thinks he’s paranoid.
He thinks she’s divine.
She watches him
ticking in time
moving lips silently
whispering, decoding
secret messages
between the lines
She moves in his hands
he’s writing her story
Killer Metronome
magic mysterious automaton
50 move rule divine
The chemistry of her tears
The poverty in his mind
turns Fools' Gold
into dark Rhyme
to wind back the
Hands of Time
(LadyLabyrinth/2018)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nP5b5Xea9E4
Close