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Grey Aug 9
Ask a question:
Let it dance on your tongue
like a child ballerina —
full of stutters and jumps
and hope.
As it spins circles
through your mind,
tears holes in the soles
of your shoes,
Let it fall swiftly and fast
so quiet it’s barely a whisper
if that at all.
And with no response,
let the hope fade
with a few tears
and maybe some scrapes
or bruises.
Just as the child,
pick yourself up
and walk towards the door,
allowing one glance behind you
before the soft click of it shutting
is all you can hear
and your locked up dreams
will never even know you were calling.
The last line is wacky
dark blue Jul 27
dance with daddy
wear your tutu
spin and twirl

hold his hand

into his arms
and heart

you’re his little
prima ballerina
She burst into a dance
A fiery splatter of sparks
From the tips of her toes
Rhythm and tune in her movements
She flew around the floor with smoothness
Her dress twirling with her like flames
Her arms flailing in calculated moves
Her hair a fierce fire cracking behind her
She closes her eyes and takes a leap
The air soars past her ears and
Her feet touch the ground with grace
~ 12/2/21
Juno Feb 22
There’s a specific rhythm to dancing
which only a dancer knows.
The thrill of a strong jump,
or a good pointing of the toes.

A tap of pointe shoes on the floor
where usually sounds a thunk,
or the success of a hard spin
when you thought you’d run out of luck.
daphne Feb 21
little balerina
glides gracefully with ease
the soles of her feet bleed
but her smile aimed to please

little balerina
each twirl immortalized her
prancing around me like magic
everything she does is a blur

little balerina
i can see her smile wavering
as she dances with such splendour
around a truth she's been denying

little ballerina
such a beautiful form of art
but it's time she accepted now
an end that broke her heart
inspired by an old picture of my grandmother in her tutu and a wide, toothless smile
Dramatic faces and dancing clowns, who's next to make a frown.
Acrobatics and tiger tamers.
Creepy smiles, chills down your spine, oh look? there's Alice In Wonderland with her time rabbit friend. Creepy places, so eerie and dark, don't you want to come with me and see the other side of Circus Wonderland? where every creature comes to life. Even the unknown.
Their all wild, their running for their lives, going untamed but trying to tame.
Let's go to Circus Wonderland, where there's hot bags of crunchy popcorn bliss in the summer air.
Colorful lights, beaming sounds of fright.
Portals to unknown dimensions, where things we dream of come to life.
Come take a ride on the wild side darling, i promise you'll be alright.
Let's go to Circus Wonderland, where even the ballerina over the jewelry box dances under the diamond ring while the tamed lion jumps through the ring of fire.
To give off feelings of imagination, to visualize an unreal reality of fear into light.
jack cariad leon Feb 2020
When a little girl plays with her doll

sometimes she'll check for a fever

she sees no bruise when she looks over the legs

she feels no pulse when she tries the arms

but she nurses it back to health -

that's her looking to bring back a smile never lost

When an adolescent girl falls in dance class

sometimes she'll check for broken bones

she sees no damage on her legs

she helps herself up using her own arms

and she returns to her ballet

that's her looking to do well at the recital

When a grown woman checks her ex's profile

sometimes she'll be searching for a sign

no signs she can see, as she pulls up her knees

that they miss her back, while she scratches her hands

but she continues to look

that's her looking for a change of mind that will never happen -

that's her wishing a change of mind was visible, so she can stay that's why she still looks.
This was originally one or two lines long so and a reviewer got confused so I decided I had to lengthen it. I do need to do longer poetry in general to be honest, my writing is usually way too short :/
Eloisa Dec 2019
After lengthy days of torment and grief
Braving the cold, remained the last leaf
Feeling the slightest breeze
She slowly danced with grace and ease
Like a ballerina driven by the sound of her heartbeat
She made her final dance
And with her gorgeous golden autumn wings
She’s now ready for winter’s frigid embrace
Mr. Siri made Alexa log-in
through procedures
utterly flawless
making her whirl
an inch above the floor
by typing her identity code
accounting her effortless slip
with her ballerina poses
to connect to his system
with a unique set of
symbols, alphabets, and number.
Feelings in the cord,
as ease on fire,
byte by byte,
a soft glow, beeps
saying, “login wasn’t successful.”
to correct her attempt
she enters again
and gains access to
multiaccess applications.

©Feelings Coated
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