Tarantella Poems | Examples

Dancing Lessons

Dancing lesson number one:
don't step on her foot or shoe
when you're out having fun
in a sport that's best for two.

When two and two double up,
I think you should have four.   
and that's the time, I tell you, yup,
square dance, you must explore. 

When four doubles into eight,
and the music speeds up faster,
do the tarantella with your date, 
winding up in a big-a disaster.

Sundrops

Sundrops dapple umbrageous trees 
strewing uncut diamonds, littering the path
with ambient flickers of what lies beyond.

Sundrops freckle ocean's surface
accenting the ripples that pattern the waves,
nuzzling playful kisses toward the warm beach.

Sundrops seduce the wayward wind
pirouetting with the aphids blissful dance,
a frenzied tarantella across my lips.

Pizza, Puckers, Passion

                  10/31/2023

“ O Sole Mio”, the accordionist plays.

 Your feet snuggle mine,in a Chianti, misted haze.

 The perfect place forus to become engraved!
  
  A little, shiny, dance floor, where we did the Tarantella.

  Those sensuous eyes,I, your forever, enchanted Bella!

Lovely

How I would love to dance with you along the Naples bay,
And then escape towards our restaurant beyond the archway.
Listen, as they play love songs with gusto on the mandolin
As Peppinello prepares the dough which in a round form he'd spin.

Outside, a young lass dances with flare her tarantella.
And everyone shouts with glee "Give us more gracious Stella."
Meanwhile Peppinello always ready to cater for our taste
Suggested a Marguerita enough that would not go to waste.

And to counter the exquisite taste of our choice, a famous wine,
A red Oddero Barbera d’Alba, guaranteed to make a fine dine.
Satiated with our fine food we go for a short stroll.
The famous Castel dell'Ovo being our primary goal.

It is already deep night and on the sea stars shine bright.
Tired but happy we return to our hotel for the night.

You Did This

Changed me yes you have already
Flying to the sky maneuvering in the milky way of beauty
The tarantella of the love songs you make my inner person sing
Sparks you throw on my face at just a thought of you
My diaphragm can’t stop shaking
Oh look at me break shake every time I sniff at your presence
A graceful lady that is part museum
Of the voices of the universe everyone sees
I will hold your voice in a little box
You will feel a hand upon your heart while I place your voice back
Into the heart from where it came from

A day will come the world will know
I was wiser
I knew all along you were mine
I know I will break you down
Melt your heart into humility
Love and care for you
You are my universe
I will go green for you

Dance Lives Life

Like a sweet child in ballet
 toe steps glide across the archway,
A graceful pirouette holding breath and heartbeat
 balanced then suddenly rising like modern athletes.

A rhythmic cadence hustles across the days
 when life is simple and living all game play,
Then the day waltzes methodic 3/4  weeks
 sashaying manic tango pause then slips away piqued.

The merengue drags bodies closely touched
 sweeping lags across the room in two quarters clutched,
bolero sharps and turns spinning like the fading years
 lost in the frenzy of living fast and freely shed tears

A twisting stomp to slap  the earth
  quick tarantella wild winds giving birth,
a shuffle into polonaise gentle and lullaby eyes
 slides to rest in minuet reprieves and haunting cries.

Too soon the days are months turned to years
 and decades lost to the aging cheers,
gone is the youth of preset times
 lost but not forgotten holding their prime.

Like the dance that stirred our spirits long ago
 dream and memory holds steady in life's shows,
there is no end for life's pawn,
 the dance lives forever a youthful swan.

Sanity Masquerade

The air slipped onto the gramaphone the needle cutting me bleeding on the floor as mannequins watched with there masquerade masks sewn on took my arm saying "care to dance my lady" as we waltzed into the night transcending emotions filled the room with essence as i laid head rested on his shoulders looking up around surround sound saying " i didnt think mannequins could tarantella like that " in the ballroom swinging in symetry.



Blood clotted dirt in the wound muddy dark night, disfigured body parts the flicker in my mind goes out again like a light in an obfuscated room, Drug fueled visions bottle hanging through whos that climbing through the windows fingertips single flick of the light switch painting of that ditch under the morgue worn torn asunder plunder linger gun slinger sling your hook look the parties over.

A Tarantella

I drift by, an open window
Faintly I see a candle glow
I hear the music's happy cry
An open window, I drift by

I linger there, to hear the beat
The urge to dance grabs at my feet
A bit of  fun for me to share
To hear the beat, I linger there

A moments pleasure, in our days
Perhaps the tarantella plays
A small thing but such a treasure 
In our days, a moments pleasure



Fore Andrea's contest.

Dot Dot Dot

Poetry is not a beat to everyone to understand 
Its not a beat to anyone’s ears 
Not a rhythm to somebody’s tarantella 
Neither a ringtone to anyone’s pad

Some will doze off 
Some will ridicule 
Some will insult
Others will walk out with passion

Only the deep eared
largely brained 
Only those with taste
Passion to listen
thirsty of knowledge
Only them will get the poetry ****** 
Tears will wash away their naivety
Only those with a poetic eye

Spring Showers

Rain Dancer

Days and nights of hibernation
within the clapboard walls, 
winter winds have eased
and only the sound of rain peals
upon the storm glass panes.

The desire to go out, to run, to scream
is strong, yet, on the rain taps a tarantella.
The parting soil unbound from icy grasp
permits the spear of crocus and of daffodil
and though the rain drones 
an accompaniment with the clock 
sleep does not come.

Knots of lassitude untwine
as child-like upon the open porch I stand
reaching upturned palm into the falling rain
watching as it strokes the waking ground.
Cleansed are we all by sky and rain and wind
rain on, bless the ground, let Spring begin.

Lovely Marinella

Her fragrance French Vanilla
as she danced La Tarantella.
Everyone could see,
I loved my Marinella.

It was so many years ago
as we danced to and fro,
she was always on my arm,
was my lovely Marinella.

Her eyes were azure blue,
then she gazed upon “YOU."
I thought her fire was for me.
Oh! My lovely Marinella.

Now, I’m far too old
my arms will never hold
nights full of love with
my lovely Marinella.

“YOU” were never to be
 but now I can see,
“YOU” had eyes from the start.
“YOU” wanted my lovely Marinella!

Dear God let me know,
where did my love go?
Looking back it’s “YOU” I see 
dancing my lovely Marinella.

The Neapolitan Tarantella

The Neapolitan tarantella
is a folk dance very graceful and lively,
it was inspired by someone having been 
bitten by a poisonous Taruntula.


It's fast up-beat tempo
induces a frenzied dance in a solo,
or a couple...and as they dance they sweat out
the poison of the spider's bite.


Grandma used to sing this folklorist song,
and I danced with her while loud mandolins 
and tambourines accompanied her cheerful singing...
there wasn't an awkward note in her voice. 


The Neapolitan tarantella, with its frantic rhythms
and shrill harmonies infused passion in great composers,
and Mendelssohn wrote his symphony...
a song dance was composed by Rossini.


The Neapolitan tarantella grandiosely plays   
and everyone stops and listens to its low and high-pitched melody,
and with little hesitation they start to dance...
beneath my veranda, these folks put on a look of festivity.

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Love In Sweet Abandon

Love in sweet abandon as her voice resounds, 
calls to me in echoed waves of whispered sounds, 
soothing, lilting, rippling shards of harmonies, 
a sensual operetta on the winter breeze. 

Lost in stark amnesia in a darkened mood, 
'neath simmerings of thunderclouds that seethe and brood, 
locked in isolation, set against the light, 
I miss her sweet libation in the thrall of night. 

Lord, I suffer angels mirrored in her face, 
her body sways in splendour with specific grace, 
slow motion tarantella danced until the dawn, 
leaves footprints in memorial snow upon the lawn. 

Love in sweet abandon, how her lips beguile, 
part slowly in the fractions of a drop dead smile, 
such beauty pulls a killing stroke inside of me, 
a king of fools supposing it is not to be.

In Motion

My heart in motion 
palpitates a wild tarantella, 
resonates vibrant valves 
and grieves for you, 
my choosing. 

Then juiced on devotion, 
elevates a blue umbrella, 
supplicates and salves, 
in letting go, 
fears losing. 

The reversal of motion 
integrates calming distance, 
initiates fast retreat, 
this failing heart 
lest I forget it. 

No more to cry an ocean, 
abdicates my once insistence, 
resuscitate a love so sweet 
become my life, 
and not regret it.

Love In Sweet Abandon

Love in sweet abandon as her voice resounds, 
calls to me in echoed waves of whispered sounds, 
soothing, lilting, rippling shards of harmonies, 
a sensual operetta on the winter breeze. 

Lost in stark amnesia in a darkened mood, 
'neath simmerings of thunderclouds that seethe and brood, 
locked in isolation, set against the light, 
I miss her sweet libation in the thrall of night. 

Lord, I suffer angels mirrored in her face, 
her body sways in splendour with specific grace, 
slow motion tarantella danced until the dawn, 
leaves footprints in memorial snow upon the lawn. 

Love in sweet abandon, how her lips beguile, 
part slowly in the fractions of a drop dead smile, 
such beauty pulls a killing stroke inside of me, 
a king of fools supposing it is not to be.

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