Tag Archives: dance

Day 17 – Haiku dance

Hazy days blush once

sweet green breezes push petals

sway and dip, dance hands.


Today (April 17) is international haiku poetry day, so in honor of that I wrote this. Also, I’ll mention Robert E. Brewer’s blog. He always has recommendations for possible inspiration. So today he said to write about dancing. This is actually the first poem I’v written this month inspired by one of his prompts, though normally I get an idea right away. Anyway, here’s the link to his blog.

Poetic Asides

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Listening to Lionel – Day 24

Do you suppose dancing on the ceiling
is the same as raising the roof?
I imagine the effect is similar –
sudden sky and finches in the rafters.

Does a single note of music ever hit you
just right? Listening to a song you’ve heard
a thousand times, and one note, or one word,
or one beat of silence

gets you right in the feels, as they say,
leaves you reeling, resonating like a bell,
so you don’t hear the rest of the song,
for the rest of the day…


Inspired by my favorite Lionel Richie song, “Dancing on the Ceiling”, which is fun to wake up and dance to in the morning. Also somewhat inspired by the Poetic Asides blog prompt to write about a moment. Enjoy again xD

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Spark – Day 7

My toes resonate with the earth,
I’ve carried my fire too long.
I hide it in a pocket in my purse,
But I’d let you see it for a price.

My feet vibrate; blades of grass tickle them,
I’ve let my little flame go dim,
Concealed it behind my hand like a secret,
But I’d tell you what it is for a price.

My legs quiver and shake, rolling up the hill.
I’ve burned myself down to ash,
Buried myself like silver in the mountain,
But I’d show you the treasure for a price

My body aches to dance, to lift my lightning hands.
Let go the raging fire inside.
Discovered like a sleeping volcano,
I’d show you the spark, but it’ll cost us both.


I have no idea. Another strange five minute poem that would take me about a month to edit if it weren’t for NaPoWriMo. Also, by the way, I wrote about three thousand words on my novel today, so I’m a little bit out of it, and not really in a poetry mindset. Anyway, this is sort of inspired by Avatar: The Last Airbender, and one of my friends once said I’d be a firebender (though I disagreed at the time). Enjoy ^_^

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If I could Dream

If I could dream
I would only be clouds,
wandering, drifting,
nothing but the wind to hold me up,
sliding slow over mountains,
mourning their small and ancient deaths with my rain.
I’d get lost, and call it an adventure.
I wouldn’t be afraid.
Darkness would not dissolve me,
for moonlight makes out of me blue rainbows
adorned with stars, falling with dew,
I would rise with
tendrils of mist to wrap around you,
carry you off, up, and away.

Come with me, take a sip,
it’s only a little dream,
sweeter than nectar, decadent, honeyed.
Do not donate all your sense to the daze.
What does sunshine know in silence
that starlit whispers don’t reveal in the dark?
Come, dearest, dream with me,
we’ll explore new lands together.

Did you know? Only clouds can see ahead.
They’re so high up on dreaming,
they know the end of the path.
That’s why they weep
and cast rainbows in our way.
That’s why they throw out lightning
and crash about their thunder.
If I knew you wandered ever closer to the edge –
how could I not do the same?

Come, then, before all that,
dream away the empty days.
Glide like a mist through dew-heavy grass,
like you know, wherever you go
it’s worth your weary, scarred up soul.
Take only a sip, don’t get there too quick;
I wouldn’t lose you yet, darling.
Have your pick from dreams of cotton.
Some of them are sweet,
some bitter like coffee at the bottom.
I prefer the spicy ones,
with twilight purple flavors.

What next, you ask?
Well, think like a cloud,
like a wisp of water-breath.
Breathe in, rise up on your toes,
Reach up for the moon,
and let go of the earth –
Dearest, come back, not that far,
we’re not astronauts. Not yet.

Still, we fly, into felted cloudy sky,
shedding laughter like stars upon
the drowsy dazed below, who never thought to drift.
We strike tiny lightnings, storming our brains.
We dance through moon-made rainbows
above mysterious, dew strewn lands,
but we are never lost.

Midnight breezes bear us up, bring us back,
lay us down, kiss our brow,
‘til safe and sound in the dark we drowse.
Those adventures we dreamed
forgotten upon waking,
dissolved like a mist in the sun.

Thought I’d post this to get the blog rolling again, so to speak. I want to sort of build up to April (NaPoWriMo), and also post things about my novel here and there. We’ll see what happens. Anyway, this poem’s a little longer than I meant it to be, so who knows, I might go back and edit out half of it later. For now though, I like it too much to do that, so here it is in all its wordy weirdness. Enjoy 😉

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We are the Storm – Day 29

We will not be simplified
into five colors and a heart.
We are deeper than a painter’s plate.
Silent laughter is far off thunder
pressed behind my sternum,
straining to get out.
We know, the smile is meant for freedom,
not to be hidden behind our hands,
to sit and sour and sicken us.

We will not be deafened,
drowned out by the rain.
We are swifter than a flashy flood.
Blind trust is branching lightning,
after images dance behind my eyes,
blinking to fade away.
We know, the sight is meant for understanding,
not to be hidden behind our screens,
to drift and daze and dazzle us. 

We will not be forgotten,
by those who close their minds.
We are brighter than a rising star.
Careless joy is thrashing wind,
nudging me along from behind,
tripping to keep up.
We know, feet are meant for dancing,
not to be pressed into the floor,
sore and slipped up and still.

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Home Again – Day 27

In the distance are the mountains,
blue in the gathering night.
City lights wink and glimmer before us.
I know this road; I see a familiar sign,
what relief, the name of my home.

Behind us, brief friendships, bright reunions,
aching feet, and smiling hearts,
glowing warm with memories of motion.
Still now, we smile, remember laughing times,
reclining in soft exhaustion, we are home again at last.

 

Sorry, I’m still not terribly inspired at the moment. Anyway, I don’t like it much, but it’s good enough for having just gotten back home and with little time to spare.

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Today – Day 26

Today, poetry is not in my hands, but in my feet.
I can put steps to music easy as breathing,
but don’t ask me to make words good.

Today, the fiddle and the accordion move me.
The mandolin and the drum get my foot tapping,
but my hands just go where the music says.

Today, I revel in giant floor fans and breezy doorways,
in marvelous bands and old-time friends.
no poetry is in my hands today, my feet have danced it all away.

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