You say you don't dance
But I don't believe you.
You sing lyrics to songs I don't know.
Quoting circular snatches
And I try to keep up
but spin out of control
Dizzy, laughing and exhausted.
You say you don't dance
But I watch you jump
from one game to another.
Now the puppet
Now the Master of Strings.
Forward and back.
Turning, twisting and laughing.
You say you don't dance
yet your words pull me in--
What is it, if not a dance?
Spinning, laughing and twirling.
You say you don't dance
But I don't believe you.
Dear Teacher: I can't dance anymore. I mean, I use to be able to. But now, just spaces and encounters, arms flailing the air like fallen meteors against the iron gate to my back yard. But because of this disorder, I use the empty spaces as motivation. The love I have left to give will be like shooting stars, like lighting, or the most brilliant of winds ever witnessed. Love to read your words again Ms Emily. i've missed you terribly./ dana
Posted 3 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
3 Years Ago
(I don't dance anymore either. Or poet much) But my smile lights up a room when I let it. Love you, .. read more(I don't dance anymore either. Or poet much) But my smile lights up a room when I let it. Love you, Dana!
Ha ha. Em, this is a wonderful piece. There's laughter and excitement in your voice, rolling in a dance of words. Wonderful metaphor for the magic of poetry! You dance and sing in this piece. I'm glad to be back so I can see how much you've improved. I'm missed your words. Cheers.
This poem is a dance... a lithe ministry of the love thing... dancing is fun...the mysterious romance and courting is one thing...as long as it is a two way street, but I do nto know about puppet stuff.that is not good ...sounds liek a bunch of games...out in out mystery to plague a person with tests and mice in experiments is bad....is not good....run!! Life is an experiment and hard enough without adding the dumb stuff@! Great write!
Hell yeah Ema. I like this. Such contradictions as the movements of pure dancing often are. Wild and twisted and mystical! You captured the rhythm of the dance both in your meter and your intent. I could feel my spirit twirling as you expressed the contradictions of your Dervish pulling you in, while all the while your Dervish is adamant that he doesn't/can't dance, but only twirls to the rhythms of the earth.
This in my opinion is one of your better works. It hits on many levels.
I remember this piece from before! Remember being captivated by the concept of poetic communication being a dance. I like the simple and direct narrative you use here; we are pulled into the relationship between narrator and 'dancer', taking on the role of dancer while you speak to us. This leaves a reader who is a writer with a glow afterwards, because you've uplifted our occupation and made it seem fun and delightful.
The only thing I can suggest - and it barely qualifies as a suggestion haha - is considering a word swap, between the "but" of Stanza two and the "yet" of stanza one, simply because the piece would then be bookended by "You...but" stanzas. Having said that, the poem is bookended by the refrain used in the first and last two lines...so perhaps ignore me haha.
A pleasant read, Emily, wth some playful imagery.
Thanks for re-posting it.
hmmm? perhaps those that can't dance seemlessly out on the floors of halls around the world, find that, putting their thoughts upon the page is their way of dancing and releasing their emotions as beautifully as they can?
I hadn't thought about it like that before... not until after reading your poem. Oh, sure I've moved my feet to the rythm of music in the past but, dancing is not what I would have called it. ;~) Perhaps, all this time I've been dancing with my poetry and it took your words to enlighten my thoughts.
I feel dizzy. Seriously, I loved this piece. It has perfect form, repetition and control. All the while spinning manically into oblivion. Fabulous piece.....definately a fav!
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..