THE FLAMENCO DANCE (Complex Poetic Form)

This poem is composed by a Nonet, a Kyrielle Sonnet, a Free verse part, a Terzanelle and another Free verse part.

In a juerga there's nothing around 

But voices, flamenco guitars, 

Dancing bodies in moonlight, 

Vibrant gypsy dresses, 

Passion, obsessions, 

Bullfighter's blades, 

Silk shawls, 

Dancers, 

Capes.

Old men have faces scorched and cracked, 

Flamenco women to attract, 

Like barks of olive trees in night.

Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight.

Girls have boot heels and the roses, 

Men clench their teeth, step opposes, 

Hands clap and shout in a dance fight, 

Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight.

Guitars are beaten at high speeds, 

Castanets scratch the music's seeds, 

Rhythmic fingers snap air to bite, 

Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight.

Old men have faces scorched and cracked, 

Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight.

Hands becoming wings

In their shadows on the wall, 

Red becoming black and

Black becoming white, 

Motion vibrating the guitar's string, 

Cubic movements of colors, 

In their dance, 

Shadowy wings becoming scarfs, 

Flamenco woman arching her body, 

Showing her passion…

From the soul to dissolve

The dancing sounds detach

From the soul to dissolve

When the movement they catch, 

They may change all around, 

The dancing sounds detach.

Drums and tambourines' sound, 

Exotic wrists and swirls, 

They may change all around.

The weightless grace makes girls

Steal treasures from the air, 

Exotic wrists and swirls.

With beautiful black hair, 

Rise like birds, fall like leaves.

Steal treasures from the air, 

Having tricked up their sleeves, 

From the soul to dissolve, 

Rise like birds, fall like leaves

From the soul to dissolve.

Spicy slippery steps

Waiting for a clue, 

Picking up portions of pink

Of hyper-femininity, 

Overflowing screwy sounds

In heavy red chromesthesia, 

Morphing themselves into glamorous, 

Red feminine movements, 

Men looking like marble statues being alive, 

Seemingly cracking.

Slowly diminishing their dancing rhythm, 

Steps cutting sweet sounds

To hear the horn of some lost happiness.