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Jacob Singer Apr 2010
I wear white
I wear white

I wear white and stare right back at
the other end of the world

The hems of the loosely fitting traditions
Barely touch the ground anymore

I wear white
I wear white
White like the chalk on the blackboard switched from
right to left.

Aimless and bereft of the desert I once called mine,
I walk alone

I wear white, I wear white
As I have done for 14 hours
and 14 years

7000 miles on the screen and 2 more up there
to be precise. It faded for every mile
Just as it has been doing since the day Darwish died

I wear white, I wear white
A different breed of Semite than they're used to

Not walking but flowing almost
as contradictory as "poutine Arabesque"
The routine wears my jaw out
as the vowels twist from right to left

I wear white, I wear white
Not just quite there yet
Not even close
Not even halfway to the surface but then again
I suppose we've always been at ease at the depths of the sea
Pearls and black gold abound

I forget that sometimes in between
intermittent bouts and doubts of "3arabiyun ana"
As if that's what makes up the anatomy of an Arab
As if that's enough for you, Khaled

I wear white
I wear white
Or at least I tell myself I do
Leave myself open to the prospect
of life starting anew
Forcing myself to see it through
See life through your eyes
Or are they my own **** you ?

Tell me for the love of Christ
Call me by name and don't
bury me under the empty discarded photo frames
that you stockpile

I'm calling to you, Walid
And will keep on calling
And trying and burning and aching and failing and dreaming and irritating
like a bad itch

I sink under it all and push it all off step 3 repeat as necessary

I scream in the tongue that you deafen your ears to and pull at the beard you've tried to shave off
I pluck at the horizontal heartstrings you've tried to mute

Above all, I wear white...
And I fight.... I fight.....

K Balachandran Mar 2016
At it's ecstatic heights,  life is
a splendid display of ballet moves.
I watch you fly high precariously,
stopping a  beat of my enamored heart
with  an astounding move speaking beauty
and dexterously land statuesque,
in a graceful  arabesque stance.
Defying gravity with amazing ease
you create beauty none ever dreamed,
so kaleidoscopic, appreciating it means
touching the eternal with one's being
in a fleeting moment, get transported.
For that, one needs a mind as sharp as
razor's edge and constantly pirouetting
360 degrees embracing  you at the
speed of light, before you turn to a
lightening flash,of different wavelength,
all over again and begin the next cycle.
Arabesque is a ballet position, in which the dancer stands on one leg(the supporting leg) with the other leg(working leg)turned out and extended behind the body, with both legs held stright
Em  Feb 2014
I Knew a Girl
Em Feb 2014
I knew a girl
Back in my hometown
And should you ever
Decide to go down
To see the hills
And valleys
There's no better view
Than Allie's.

I knew a girl
On holiday
Who liked to sit
Next to the bay
And look to the sea
When it's sunny
There's no better ocean
Than Bonnie's.

I knew a girl
At a B&B;
When I lost my way
In Sicily
At the end
Of your journey
There's no better bed
Than Courtney's.

I knew a girl
Who worked at a club
And liked jazz, blues
And jailhouse rock
If you like the sound
Of harmonicas
There's no better show
Than Danica's.

I knew a girl
Who breathed in fumes
Of marijuana
And did *****
If you like to get
There's no better trip
Than Emilia's.

I knew a girl
That made no fuss
And bathed in sweat
And reeked of musk
If you're into
All that hanky-panky
There's no better bed
Than Frankie's.

I knew a girl
With perfect teeth
But had a thing
For eating sweets
And if you lose
Your stash of candy
There's no better place to look
Than Ginny's.

I knew a girl
At a fancy bar
With salon-fresh hair
And a red sports car
I'm gonna take her home
Or better yet
There's no better place
Than Harriet's.

I knew a girl
She had no shame
I barely even
Caught her name
When you're in the mood
For something obscene
There's no better bedroom
Than Irene's.

I knew a girl
Who liked to dance
And displayed a fondness
For romance
If you'll love her 'til
The end of days
There's no better love
Than Juliet's.

I knew a girl
Who spoke her mind
And didn't care
For cuffs and fines
So if protesting's your
Idea of a date
There's no better activist
Than Kate.

I knew a girl
Knew how to work a pole
As long as people
Kept dealing the dough
So if you fancy
Yourself a high rolla'
There's no better showgirl
Than Lola.

I knew a girl
We met at the gym
She was into the whole
Fitness thing
If you can keep up
On treadmills and weights
There's no better body
Than May's.

I knew a girl
Who could make a mean shake
Whether by ocean or poolside
Or down by the lake
If you have the time
To head out to Bora
There's no better smoothie
Than Nora's.

I knew a girl
In the symphony
Who played the double bass
In perfect harmony
If you like to watch
The orchestra
There's no better sound
Than Octavia's.

I knew a girl
In New Orleans
She could read tarot cards
And decipher dreams
If you'd like to know
The things to be
There's no better fortune
Than Penelope's.

I knew a girl
Who was quite possessive
And I must admit
A bit of a sadist
But if you can look past
That killer grin
There's no better poison
Than Quinn's.

I knew a girl
With venomous lips
And razors on her
That troublemaker
Will give you hell
But there's no better trouble
Than Rochelle's.

I knew a girl
At an art exhibit
She liked the emotions
Raw and inhibited
If you ever pass
By a gallery
There's no better aesthetic
Than Stephanie's.

I knew a girl
Who could arabesque
And pirouette
With all the best
If you'd like to try
A ballerina
There's no better plié
Than Tina's.

I knew a girl
From the Philippines
And was the brightest star
You'd have ever seen
Major in astrophysics
A real Minerva
There's no better brain
Than Ursa's.

I knew a girl
Who lived next door
And when she woke up
Every morn
She'd start playing
The harmonica
There's no better wake-up call
Than Veronica's.

I knew a girl
Who was always loud
Soon as she had an idea
It had to come out
Bursting with
Youthful energy
There's no better mind
Than Wendy's.

I knew a girl
She held the reign
Over all pretentiously
Spelled names.
Somebody ought
To give her a tiara
For there's no better Ciara
Than Xiaira.

I knew a girl
Who owned a shop
She'd sell the goods
And work the mop
She's a hard worker
That one
And there's no better employee
Than Yvonne.

I knew a girl
With a heart of aurum
With grace, she observes
The proper decorum
Climbing the ladders
Never once a pariah
There's no better friend
Than Zariah.
I deeply apologize for the overuse of the word "harmonica." No, really!
faithfulpadfoot Jan 2016
Like Debussy's arabesque we danced,
your feet too slow, and mine too fast,
in different times, yet
we cascaded like the notes
brushed by gentle fingers;
Debussy's Première Arabesque -
PJ Poesy Nov 2015
Goth Child nursed his mother's tattooed *****

Snapped **** with teeth

Then grizzled grin at me and spit up

I poked at my chile relleno

Twisting hot cheesy sludge off prongs

Tour jete with fork finishes in arabesque

Between my own fangs

I spit back scalding ****

Goth Child points, says, "Pawpee, that man is scarewee"

Pawpee turns his tattoo tears to see

Flashes his gleaming grill

I sink in my seat behind sightline of salsa squeeze bottle

Chattering ivories
Life in the neighborhood.
Ghazal  Feb 2014
Ghazal Feb 2014
Never will I be covered in tattoos

My legs and toes shall forever stay bruised.

I’ll never paint or carry a tune

Forever and ever, I’ll wear a tutu.

I won’t dye my hair pink or blue

My piercings will stay as the simple two

Nails cut short and hair in a bun

In ballet, this must be done.

Pink tights by the mound

Bobby pins all around

Leotards on the floor

Pointe shoes by the door.

Toes taped so tightly

Smiling big and brightly

Red lipstick adding to her beauty

The dancer moves so smoothly.

Turned out from my hips

No words coming from my lips

I dance sweetly to the sound

Ooh ballet, to you, I am bound.

Full of grace, never haste

Filling perfectly my costume of lace

Ever so sweet, my dancing feet

Step after step, I repeat and repeat.

Obtaining perfection is my key

It’s what I strive for, it’s all that defines me

Pushing harder and harder to reach my goal

It’s what I live for, ballet is my soul.

My toes may bleed

And my knees, grow weak

But I’ll never stop dancing…

Not until I reach my peak.

Pirouette, Pirouette

Dancer’s silhouette

Practicing at dusk

Dedication is a must.

Stretching my limbs

Choreographing on a whim

Alway aiming to be stronger

To hold my arabesque longer.

When I do finally reach that triple pirouette

and all is done and all is set

I put myself back into class

Aiming for a fourth, to be better than the last.

This is the life of a dancer en point

Risking the health of her feet, legs and joints

Just for that one perfect moment on stage

Where the ballerina stands tall and all are amazed.
please please write a comment
Faeri Shankar Jul 2012
I once found my heart in Catawaba
Where the blue cornflowers flourish between
Arabesque petals floating from the snowy dogwood trees
Encasing the air with the thick fragrance of innocence
You took from me beneath the dying maple tree.

The monotone cubicle in which you thrived
Wouldn't suffice for the rose petals lingering
Between your flushed lips drenched pale in the moonlight
Breathing "You are beautiful"
Smoking cigarettes with your mind.
SøułSurvivør Aug 2015

on bare boards
the glit'ring gause
graceful gesture found
an arabesque
an aching pause
apropos to concert sound

lithe lustrous girl
scarce woman grown
pours out her beating heart
to stretch with every
muscle owned
in pain for love of art

pure grace she is
just as a swan
soft white and deepest black
she sways and lilts
her own will gone
on point with arch of back

a strong male
who leaps and soars
stately carriage bounds
to show his love
unto his core
and sweep her
from the ground

no person in
the world knows
the dancer's struggle, care
they only see talent bestowed
as he lifts her in the air

the grueling practice
hour on hour
the hardship and the strain
taxing body til it's empowered
the tutelage of brain

hour on hour
same movement learned
feet bound until deformed
to ache, oh yes, to hurt and burn
'til she has perfect form

but all this pain
which we don't see
is never all for naught
for the roses she will be
for the applause
she's fraught

for when this girl
is on the stage
she will, as a swan, fly
and with great grace
she'll turn the page
and then, as woman


(C) 8/1/2015
The swan Odette is under
An evil spell
For love of her Siegfried
tries to **** the magician Rothbart
with a crossbow. But the arrow
strikes Odette instead
She dies as a woman
In his arms.
Carrying her he drowns
himself in the lake

But all this tragedy is not for nothing
Odette's maidens are freed
from Rothbart's curse
and are forever changed.

Aly the Pear  Dec 2014
Aly the Pear Dec 2014
Arabesque brown galaxies peer from behind rose tinted shades
As your soft pink lips plant
cashmere kisses that I crave
And when you leave, my neck is haunted
by the ghost of your teeth,
body still trembling from the
euphoria achieved
Free verse about my favorite person
Moonshine Noire Jun 2017
amber bourbon-coloured

demonic eyes frigid

grapes hitched

in juniper kisses

lemon moans

nosing out

perpertually queezy

rhinestone stars twinkling up

Virgo whites

xenial years zooming
Seduced by Debussy
In music I lose me
When notes float on staves
Rolling in with the waves
Of pure sound.
The music around me surrounds me
Enraptures and captures my heart.

Arabesque,clair de lune take me off to the moon
And again I'm in rapture
Trapped in the capture of music.
High on a mountain of enamell’d head—
Such as the drowsy shepherd on his bed
Of giant pasturage lying at his ease,
Raising his heavy eyelid, starts and sees
With many a mutter’d “hope to be forgiven”
What time the moon is quadrated in Heaven—
Of rosy head, that towering far away
Into the sunlit ether, caught the ray
Of sunken suns at eve—at noon of night,
While the moon danc’d with the fair stranger light—
Uprear’d upon such height arose a pile
Of gorgeous columns on th’ uuburthen’d air,
Flashing from Parian marble that twin smile
Far down upon the wave that sparkled there,
And nursled the young mountain in its lair.
Of molten stars their pavement, such as fall
Thro’ the ebon air, besilvering the pall
Of their own dissolution, while they die—
Adorning then the dwellings of the sky.
A dome, by linked light from Heaven let down,
Sat gently on these columns as a crown—
A window of one circular diamond, there,
Look’d out above into the purple air
And rays from God shot down that meteor chain
And hallow’d all the beauty twice again,
Save when, between th’ Empyrean and that ring,
Some eager spirit flapp’d his dusky wing.
But on the pillars Seraph eyes have seen
The dimness of this world: that grayish green
That Nature loves the best for Beauty’s grave
Lurk’d in each cornice, round each architrave—
And every sculptured cherub thereabout
That from his marble dwelling peered out,
Seem’d earthly in the shadow of his niche—
Achaian statues in a world so rich?
Friezes from Tadmor and Persepolis—
From Balbec, and the stilly, clear abyss
Of beautiful Gomorrah! Oh, the wave
Is now upon thee—but too late to save!
Sound loves to revel in a summer night:
Witness the murmur of the gray twilight
That stole upon the ear, in Eyraco,
Of many a wild star-gazer long ago—
That stealeth ever on the ear of him
Who, musing, gazeth on the distance dim,
And sees the darkness coming as a cloud—
Is not its form—its voice—most palpable and loud?
But what is this?—it cometh—and it brings
A music with it—’tis the rush of wings—
A pause—and then a sweeping, falling strain,
And Nesace is in her halls again.
From the wild energy of wanton haste
Her cheeks were flushing, and her lips apart;
The zone that clung around her gentle waist
Had burst beneath the heaving of her heart.
Within the centre of that hall to breathe
She paus’d and panted, Zanthe! all beneath,
The fairy light that kiss’d her golden hair
And long’d to rest, yet could but sparkle there!

Young flowers were whispering in melody
To happy flowers that night—and tree to tree;
Fountains were gushing music as they fell
In many a star-lit grove, or moon-light dell;
Yet silence came upon material things—
Fair flowers, bright waterfalls and angel wings—
And sound alone that from the spirit sprang
Bore burthen to the charm the maiden sang:

  “Neath blue-bell or streamer—
    Or tufted wild spray
  That keeps, from the dreamer,
    The moonbeam away—
  Bright beings! that ponder,
    With half-closing eyes,
  On the stars which your wonder
    Hath drawn from the skies,
  Till they glance thro’ the shade, and
    Come down to your brow
  Like—eyes of the maiden
    Who calls on you now—
  Arise! from your dreaming
    In violet bowers,
  To duty beseeming
    These star-litten hours—
  And shake from your tresses
    Encumber’d with dew

  The breath of those kisses
    That cumber them too—
  (O! how, without you, Love!
    Could angels be blest?)
  Those kisses of true love
    That lull’d ye to rest!
  Up! shake from your wing
    Each hindering thing:
  The dew of the night—
    It would weigh down your flight;
  And true love caresses—
    O! leave them apart!
  They are light on the tresses,
    But lead on the heart.

  Ligeia! Ligeia!
    My beautiful one!
  Whose harshest idea
    Will to melody run,
  O! is it thy will
    On the breezes to toss?
  Or, capriciously still,
    Like the lone Albatross,
  Incumbent on night
    (As she on the air)
  To keep watch with delight
    On the harmony there?

  Ligeia! wherever
    Thy image may be,
  No magic shall sever
    Thy music from thee.
  Thou hast bound many eyes
    In a dreamy sleep—
  But the strains still arise
    Which thy vigilance keep—

  The sound of the rain
    Which leaps down to the flower,
  And dances again
    In the rhythm of the shower—
  The murmur that springs
    From the growing of grass
  Are the music of things—
    But are modell’d, alas!
  Away, then, my dearest,
    O! hie thee away
  To springs that lie clearest
    Beneath the moon-ray—
  To lone lake that smiles,
    In its dream of deep rest,
  At the many star-isles
  That enjewel its breast—
  Where wild flowers, creeping,
    Have mingled their shade,
  On its margin is sleeping
    Full many a maid—
  Some have left the cool glade, and
    Have slept with the bee—
  Arouse them, my maiden,
    On moorland and lea—

  Go! breathe on their slumber,
    All softly in ear,
  The musical number
    They slumber’d to hear—
  For what can awaken
    An angel so soon
  Whose sleep hath been taken
    Beneath the cold moon,
  As the spell which no slumber
    Of witchery may test,
  The rhythmical number
    Which lull’d him to rest?”

Spirits in wing, and angels to the view,
A thousand seraphs burst th’ Empyrean thro’,
Young dreams still hovering on their drowsy flight—
Seraphs in all but “Knowledge,” the keen light
That fell, refracted, thro’ thy bounds afar,
O death! from eye of God upon that star;
Sweet was that error—sweeter still that death—
Sweet was that error—ev’n with us the breath
Of Science dims the mirror of our joy—
To them ’twere the Simoom, and would destroy—
For what (to them) availeth it to know
That Truth is Falsehood—or that Bliss is Woe?
Sweet was their death—with them to die was rife
With the last ecstasy of satiate life—
Beyond that death no immortality—
But sleep that pondereth and is not “to be”—
And there—oh! may my weary spirit dwell—
Apart from Heaven’s Eternity—and yet how far from Hell!

What guilty spirit, in what shrubbery dim
Heard not the stirring summons of that hymn?
But two: they fell: for heaven no grace imparts
To those who hear not for their beating hearts.
A maiden-angel and her seraph-lover—
O! where (and ye may seek the wide skies over)
Was Love, the blind, near sober Duty known?
Unguided Love hath fallen—’mid “tears of perfect moan.”

He was a goodly spirit—he who fell:
A wanderer by mossy-mantled well—
A gazer on the lights that shine above—
A dreamer in the moonbeam by his love:
What wonder? for each star is eye-like there,
And looks so sweetly down on Beauty’s hair—
And they, and ev’ry mossy spring were holy
To his love-haunted heart and melancholy.
The night had found (to him a night of wo)
Upon a mountain crag, young Angelo—
Beetling it bends athwart the solemn sky,
And scowls on starry worlds that down beneath it lie.
Here sate he with his love—his dark eye bent
With eagle gaze along the firmament:
Now turn’d it upon her—but ever then
It trembled to the orb of EARTH again.

“Ianthe, dearest, see! how dim that ray!
How lovely ’tis to look so far away!
She seemed not thus upon that autumn eve
I left her gorgeous halls—nor mourned to leave,
That eve—that eve—I should remember well—
The sun-ray dropped, in Lemnos with a spell
On th’ Arabesque carving of a gilded hall
Wherein I sate, and on the draperied wall—
And on my eyelids—O, the heavy light!
How drowsily it weighed them into night!
On flowers, before, and mist, and love they ran
With Persian Saadi in his Gulistan:
But O, that light!—I slumbered—Death, the while,
Stole o’er my senses in that lovely isle
So softly that no single silken hair
Awoke that slept—or knew that he was there.

“The last spot of Earth’******I trod upon
Was a proud temple called the Parthenon;
More beauty clung around her columned wall
Then even thy glowing ***** beats withal,
And when old Time my wing did disenthral
Thence sprang I—as the eagle from his tower,
And years I left behind me in an hour.
What time upon her airy bounds I hung,
One half the garden of her globe was flung
Unrolling as a chart unto my view—
Tenantless cities of the desert too!
Ianthe, beauty crowded on me then,
And half I wished to be again of men.”

“My Angelo! and why of them to be?
A brighter dwelling-place is here for thee—
And greener fields than in yon world above,
And woman’s loveliness—and passionate love.”
“But list, Ianthe! when the air so soft
Failed, as my pennoned spirit leapt aloft,
Perhaps my brain grew dizzy—but the world
I left so late was into chaos hurled,
Sprang from her station, on the winds apart,
And rolled a flame, the fiery Heaven athwart.
Methought, my sweet one, then I ceased to soar,
And fell—not swiftly as I rose before,
But with a downward, tremulous motion thro’
Light, brazen rays, this golden star unto!
Nor long the measure of my falling hours,
For nearest of all stars was thine to ours—
Dread star! that came, amid a night of mirth,
A red Daedalion on the timid Earth.”

“We came—and to thy Earth—but not to us
Be given our lady’s bidding to discuss:
We came, my love; around, above, below,
Gay fire-fly of the night we come and go,
Nor ask a reason save the angel-nod
She grants to us as granted by her God—
But, Angelo, than thine gray Time unfurled
Never his fairy wing o’er fairer world!
Dim was its little disk, and angel eyes
Alone could see the phantom in the skies,
When first Al Aaraaf knew her course to be
Headlong thitherward o’er the starry sea—
But when its glory swelled upon the sky,
As glowing Beauty’s bust beneath man’s eye,
We paused before the heritage of men,
And thy star trembled—as doth Beauty then!”

Thus in discourse, the lovers whiled away
The night that waned and waned and brought no day.
They fell: for Heaven to them no hope imparts
Who hear not for the beating of their hearts.

— The End —