Short Choreographed Poems

play of sunlight streaming through swaying trees ~
choreographed by God to put heart at ease...

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Colored foil floats to
Wind’s un-choreographed dance
Un-noticed en masse….....

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Autumn leaves dancing
Spinning and twirling around
All so inspiring
Enticing playful moments
With choreographed echoes....

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like ballet dancers

in colourful pinafores

an impromptu dance

choreographed by the wind

leaves dance to Autumn's sweet song








for Nathan's contest "Tanka (Season)"...

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Softly plays the breeze
across stems,
petals dance in ecstasy
at its caress.
Nodding heads 
bow to each other
in perfectly choreographed
unison
as nature’s ballroom
hosts
the waltz of the wildflowers....

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The waiting clap handed smashy,

sits in a dime's oval,

swallows sourly-
yet diversify's the mind,

overly enveloped miniatures-
coasting to the camels,

choreographed lightly yet so marches the mass....

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Sit in silence,
Listen to the universe sing your praise,
Be still,
The entirety of life has choreographed a dance for you,
Inhale the elixir of life,
Envelope yourself in love,
Just be emerged in the love that eternity has bequeathed you....

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gorgeous iridescent rainbow butterfly
barely pricks the shiny mulberry leaf
prancing with tiny pony like taps

leaf barely feels her, and yet is honored
to commit to her choreographed challenge
giving her a glimpse of his heartbeat and his love...

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Enchanted sequins move with laser precision
Sensationally choreographed pyrometrics dance
Mystifying wingless flight of earthbound spirits
Steadily intensifying blurred colors streak by
Blades defy gravity suspended on breaths


By Robb A. Kopp...

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"Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows"- Alexander Pope

 A summer breeze in the garden plays
 As lilies sway to its caress
 Daisies move in rhythmic ways
 Lilacs move to and fro
 It's choreographed 
 on a summer
 day, by a
 gentle
 breeze...

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A leap ... jete
a turn ... fouette
in the drama dance
of ballet.
A pas and then
glissade again
choreographed
by the danseuse
in her slippers
steel toed.
Balanced on tarsi strong
beneath her stiff tulle tutu,
she vaults
in an allegro passage
to soar
and interpret the tale....

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our words one can compress
but our focus as wordsmiths
is to let creativity take charge
each and every conversation
becomes a writer’s permit to
master their authorship
choreographed words bestir
and challenge mind-numbing
beware of what you share
pursuits of passion my pen
not to be silently suppressed...

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This awakening
Of listening to tapes
And viewing my life in verse

This strength not to rage
But to reflect for guide posts
For detours lurking
For words to be wary of
The very cost of thoughts I've beheld
Of moves I have choreographed;

I now know of ease, and courage
Not forgetting to regret... .

*

(To be cont.)...

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A light stroke of the sun caresses the soft features of your face just right
As dust particles dance in the morning light 

Surrounded by a thousand molecules careening about suspended in a sunbeam
You lay motionless deep in a daydream 

The seemingly choreographed specs maneuver in perpetual bliss
As serenity sneaks chaos a kiss...

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Across great plains, in rich soil valleys
beneath breathtaking, bold painted skies
amber cobras dance on graceful stems
swaying to refrains of flowing rhapsodies

Mariah plays for them on a whimsical flute
whistling notes float along on wind songs

hypnotized by her gentle rhythmic breezes
they bend and dip in choreographed allegro...

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Drought had entered 
into grass roots. 
It was a perfect landing. 

Sequential. You are  
chopped into pieces. A shoal 
of fish will make you disappear.   

The vacancy will call 
a choreographed entry. The 
descent will find a goldenrod.     

Snow-capped peaks. It 
is difficult to stay for a long time. 
You climb down. River remains dry.


Satish Verma...

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My eyes dark brown
Yours so intensely blue
I smile when I hear
That deep sigh from you

We’re a country apart
It’s impossible some say
But passion felt so deeply
Must always have its day

Our hearts dance with intimacy
Choreographed with time and trust
You sigh and say, “Dreams can come true”
I smile and whisper, “This one must”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Written 10-24-2015...

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Malady gently receives the hand of familiarity
and began a dance of deception.
Anguish bowed politely to oppression,
when vulnerability appeared.
Destruction cut in,
angering her partner subtlety.
Lies twirled in lovers arms, 
torment and misery moved together gracefully in unison.
Deceit caressed passion,
while vile dreams are crushed under the enchanting waltz.
Pageantry choreographed with devil's imagination....

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Cranberry Harvest

The golden leaves crunch under my feet
As I watch the seven harvest machines dance
Across the cranberry field in choreographed formation.

The thick black rain clouds are blown by fierce winds
Allowing the bright sun to make an appearance.
The heavy fragrance of fall foliage is in the air.

The small, tart, red berries pop up
To float on flooded fields…..
The great cranberry harvest has begun!...

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An angel sheds a feather
and mortal eyes rise to see
a glimpse of divinity,
as pink shards fracture blue skies.

Ethereal wisps of light
color misty clouds of white,
imbuing fragility
with exceptional beauty.

Scarlet and crimson ribbons
inseparably tangled,
dance a sensual ballet
that's choreographed by time.

In the stillness of twilight
silence imposes itself,
in a muted harmony
of sounds as the day shuts down....

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Limpid she lay, languid on the boardwalk ledge,
Arms akimbo, not a ray missed by the water's edge,
Not a hair out of place, nuanced and bronzed,
Glowing and golden, the Fonz would be out-Fonzed.
Ultra cool and 'look at me', each movement choreographed,
Idiosyncratic her beachwear apparel, make up expertly graphed.
Distant and aloof her womanly wiles, pouting lips slightly parted,
.....as she bent over to pick up her bag, the heavenly vision farted!...

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I am full
Of emptiness
I long for longing
Crave contentment

The insensate pain
Of intangible touch
Indecipherable ciphers
Choreographed madness

Craggy comfort
Of blunt condolence
The decorum of anarchy
Deserted crowds, social solitude
Miles given to intercept steps

At the dawn of abundance
I see only
bones of ghosts 
Whose meager admonishment
I forgot to unlearn

Unredeemed
And unrepentant
I am in love
With loneliness.

9/20/19...

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Around the feeder
the hummingbirds are dancing.

Naturally, they are just flying and feeding,
just surviving, they dart and hover,
none need to dance
even though this non-choreographed
syncopated air-skimming
looks like a dance to slower eyes.

They drive each other away from the nectar,
even bumblebees, they must feed,
for tomorrow they go to Mexico
and only the strong will make it.

The most nimble eventually
dancing with death all the way....

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The seagulls rose, dipped and 
banked
In an ageless, timeless 
seashore dance
Caught in a foamy hypnotic 
trance 
Of bubbling pomp and 
circumstance. 

Triangular wings and snow 
white breasts
Skimming rolling, crashing 
crests
A blur of half seen silhouettes
Of madcap, graceful pirouettes.  

But when they catch the 
elusive prize
With accelerated flaps they rise
On a zig zag course for open 
skies
Amid raucous threatening 
throaty cries....

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The moon breathes motion,
choreographed slivers of silver
parting inhaled memoirs of
you (blanketed in chips of rays) 
and me (daintied in drowned damsels)

We drift together protected by
layers of skirmished words
thawed upon mist of morning
wants and dread of darkness
breaking once unbreakable needs

The flimsy pulse of distance
hides the beats within our song
as the tap-tap-tapping carries
sound beneath silent shores
of untraveled fleshy touches...

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