Through broken glass,
Blood in ribbons
On the grass.
False laughter fills
The air with smiles,
A collection of fake happiness
For a short and precious while.
Appluad the graceless efforts
Of the sinning ballerinas
As the crowd cackles
Like the call of a hyena.
'Sometimes things just don't make sense and ignoring things won't make you dense, but some people can't say no, so if someday our minds do blow, from curiosity and such, we will no longer keep in our clutch, reality and questions thought, and hopefully we needn't sought the answers, non-factual, we've been taught.'
Answers are for dancers:
Never step left,
always step right.
Right on the course,
where loyalist fight.
Right in the angelic pose that they do.
it'd be better if you weren't you.
Just act like they act and you can get by,
do as they do and never ask why.
Answers I give you my dancers,
answers I give you to move the right way.
Answers I give you my dancers,
because with my answers you never will stray.
But if you do,
I assure you,
you've clipped the strings,
and do know that it means
you will shunned,
an existence unseen,
by the people who dance,
the people who sing,
by all the people pulled by my string.
If your sadness were an ocean
plagued with typhoons,
and you were being thrashed around by the waves
and beaten across the rocks;
then I would be the fool who jumps in after you
However, your sadness is not the ocean
it's merely the ground,
and I cannot save you
because we are two bald eagles
talons locked, eyes focused
hurling towards it
So if we die,
we die together
and we can both write stone words
" Sadness overcame"
but if we manage to lift each other up
just before we hit the ground
then we've done a beautiful dance
and managed to pirouette away from our doom.
Breaking through the barricades
Through your pupils
Through the fingertips
Into the muscles
in my toes
flowing through my brain
into my body from my body
into the earth
spreading across the universe
joining with its origins.
In this circular dance of creativity
Angels and Demons join their hands
To explode in catharsis.
Flashes and sparkles from under our heels,
Higher and higher,
Spinning around the Sun
Annihilated by the moonlight.
The way he dances for me
reminds me of sweet kisses passed
and flames licking at the corners
of impassioned nothings
that light me up
The floors are so far flung
and I am missing my partner
all I can do is watch him dance behind my eyelids
sitting on the side of my own dance floor
We are all but dancers
In the rhythm of life
While some seem to dance it perfectly
Some can't get the steps down right
Don't let that stop you from dancing
We each have our own heartbeat
Whether or not you are sure footed
Or if you were born with two left feet
Though we often feel that life can be
A large gymnasium at times
Waiting for someone to dance with us
As we sit on the side
Instead of waiting to be asked to dance
Like so many often do
Where ever it is you are right now
You can dance just for you
Perhaps a ballerina floating gracefully
Across life's massive stage
Giving your own rendition
To the beauty of swan lake
Or dancing to the river
Perhaps something in modern style
Whatever dance it is you deliver
How ever far it is the mile
Dance like there's no tomorrow
To your very own rhythm
For no one else can dance like you
The dance that you've been given
Liquid ballerinas wait behind pink curtains...
to dance upon a stage of flesh.
Dancing, twirling and spinning for all to see,
but embarrassment overcomes them at every mistake.
All tumbling off the stage to a cold hard floor,
each falling to shambles at everyone's feet...
And the audience can only laugh.