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NARMONSEA Sep 2015
Penning a new rhyme with each limb,
A sonnet at every whim
Coiling around the canvas
Performing for me.

I feel you must understand that
With every movement of your body
onstage:
The body of a goddess,
Your relentless desire to win,
You're pulling me closer to you.

So let me read you; know that
The messages I send
Whilst deep in you
Taking your body in, naked,
Will be similar, whereby I fill
Your inside, forcing your breath out
Urging the moans.

You'll sense my mouth, my tongue,
My hands, my skin,
My grand entrance,
A sinful parade.

So dance for me. I'll excite you,
Inspire you,
*Until you call my name for an encore.
Dancers are hawt. Like me woooo
Joan Reese Sep 2015
Jukebox rocks, two dozen hard?working dusty men,
Bent elbows lean, Gold liquid flows
Glass rises, lit cigarettes talk.

She poses on a white piano bar,
******* clad; slow moving, bending,
grinding, shaking, gyrating.

She blows kisses
to admiring eyes
with lustful wishes.

Cleo's little girl dream
of being rescued
fades with each midnight hour.

She spins around, steel?scissors held high.
Scissors reflect mirrored walls;
penetrates smoky beer air.

The scissor flashes down
cutting a hole above her heart.
Cleo offers the red satin circle,

Keepsake for the trucker who watches.
He believes, "She dances for me."
He offers up a dead President.

She cuts a hole here
cuts a hole there.
Soon she can start her own government.

It's hard to know where
first hole began or
last hole ends.
Michelle Garcia Sep 2015
some seek art in sidewalk cracks
or between fragile spines of old books
and some search for meaning
through the gaps between the oak trees
where solitude exists and melts
together with the prismatic hues of
every sunset fading into memory

some find purpose in silence
or rather, the center of bustling conversation
and some find beauty in the enigma of the ocean
and the shy touch of the sun, warm,
like butter coating our lonely souls

everyone but her,
she never had to search, for her masterpiece
was herself.
her love was made of notes strung together
and played colorfully, radiating through the air
as smooth as mother's finest silk, and
with every beat, she painted the most beautiful
of images, dancing along to the hum of her heart
that never understood the meaning of silence

and her paradise meant being blinded
by stage lights and pride, each song
a testament built by bones
that taught themselves how to bend
but remain vigilant,
because breaking was never an option
in her pink-ribboned world of piercing perfection

but they will continue to search for happiness
in howling wind and steady rain,
never bothering to find her smile
fluttering effortlessly in the music,
that smile- the one that could put
the world's most beautiful dance
to shame
Emma-Leigh Ivy Sep 2015
If
If I give you a promise,
will you give me an answer?
If you'll be my lover
I can be your dancer.

If I give you a thimble,
can you make me fly?  
If you give me a kiss
I promise that I'll try

If I show my soul to you
please don't **** me over.
I'd rather face the wildfire
than watch the ashes smolder.

If I give you tomorrow,
will you tell me your past?
I pray you surrender
to the spell I have cast.

If I give you a promise,
will you give me an answer?
If you'll be my lover
I will be your dancer.

If I can find your shadow
can we touch the sky?
I have a little pixie dust,
I promise we can try.

Once I've shown my soul to you
please don't **** me over.
I'd rather fan the flames to life
than watch the ashes smolder.  

If I give you tomorrow
keep a place for me in your past.
I can't divine the future.
Love should never wear a mask.
Graff1980 Aug 2015
Her eyes close her breath slows
Skin softens pale pallor
Yet finds its glow
Beneath the stage lights
Then she explodes

Soft silver sequined shoes
Slowly ascend and descend
Arcing at an impossible angle
Her back arches deeper and deeper
Till one would expect to hear
Her body crack and snap in half

I gasp as she spins into a leap
Tears taint my tired cheeks
As the **** breaks
From the sorrows of this week

Arms circle backward
Shirt slightly rises
Exposing the years of discipline
Abs strong as the ocean tides
Open to the world then hide

Her body becomes a centrifuge
Separating part of her soul
From her poetic form
Spinning and smiling
As chestnut hair rapidly orbits her head

I am enchanted
One hour away from life
And I needed to see something beautiful
Not ******
But transcendent
Perpetually perfected movements
One hour to disentangle myself
From the nightmare of life
And I am eternally grateful
Cecil Miller Aug 2015
I will not call you my baby,
Until I can be your only baby.
You maneuver around a subject
With the litheness of a danseur.
Though I would like to love you,
If you would let me love you,
Loneliness has never been what drives me.
It is love to which I answer.
I can see the youthfulness,
And much more, for my sleuthfulness.
Are you seeking any other than me,
Who is eager to applaud as to centre stage you bound?
For just a while more, I wait for first frame.
It could be so grand to see how you move your frame.
I have wondered if your dance would be as spry
As the clever way you manage to avoid.
I wrote this in about ten minutes. I finished it just now, at 11:30pm.
I hope that this bit of poetry is as exciting as an enthralling ballet.
She was just another schoolgirl

Dreams of marriage and of kids

She had devoted parents

They loved everything she did

Nothing could deter her

from the choice that she had made

Turning seventeen, she left her home

in Forest Glade

Moving north to Epsilon

She chose another route

She would be a dancer

Taking money from the suits

She started slow in Epsilon

A club girl from the start

She had a phony i.d

But she sure could play the part

Was she a dancer or an actress

Seems she was one and the same

She chose to go as Crystal

Though that wasn't her real name

She danced a bit and moved around

The lifestyle she liked

She was dancing up in Buffalo

When she met a guy named Mike

They dated and got married

Soon a kid was on the way

When he found out she was pregnant

He packed up and moved away

She was nineteen and without a chance

To get a better life

Who would want a dancer

With a kid to be his wife?

Nobody that she knew

That would be for sure

And just like the little girl she was

She always wanted more

She had her son, named Ferguson

She then enrolled in school

She was gonna be a big thing

She would not be no ones fool

She chose to keep on dancing

Working late nights, dancing hard

Saving up her money

So she'd get her son a yard

She was still a little girl deep down

She still had real big dreams

She didn't want the normal life

She wanted the extremes

She was a dancer, mother, daughter and

A sutdent every day

She had to keep them separate

Had to keep her lives at bay

She'd many personalities

Depending on her place

She handled each role expertly

With poise and with such grace

By day she was a mother

And a student on the side

She did both of them expertly

And she showed off both with pride

At night she was a dancer

Schoolgirl, teacher, and much more

She would be a patrons fantasy

But she hid down in her core

The little girl she really was

Stayed deep and far from them

She was also now an actress

Dancing, doing things for men

At night when she was finished

She would go home to her boy

She would bend and kiss him as he slept

For he was her pride and joy

She'd then go hit the shower

Washing all their dreams away

She would wash away their kisses

She would make herself okay

Each night she'd play another role

To keep the men entranced

She would change her look up daily

As on the stage she pranced

They'd pay her for her company

And they'd worship all she did

But, all she ever thought about

Was something better for her kid

She finished school in record time

A manager she'd be

She took a four year course

And she finsihed it in three

She didn't have the money

To quite make her dreams come true

But, she now had a diploma

And inside, her pride just grew

She was now a feature dancer

She was the top of mens desires

But the job was getting weary

In fact, our girl was tired

She had her different roles to play

Still mother, daughter, and

At night a dancer actress

In an pornographic land

She'd go home every night and see

Her son there in his bed

She'd go and have her shower

And she'd kiss him on his head

She'd wash away the garbage

Wash away her hidden life

Once again she thought of

Being a mother and a wife

Normalcy, would not be hers

She'd have to move along

She'd done well for her young boy

She had not done too much wrong

A new life far from Buffalo

Would be the thing to do

She's now a mother and a daughter

And she might live next to you

She broke the chains that bound her

Used her dancing to improve

Made herself much stronger

And she then did up and move

Now she doesn't go home late at night

To wash away the grime

She can go home and go out to play

To give her son some time

The sad fact is there's lots of girls

But not as strong as her

They do not escape the dancing

When they end up, no one's sure

But Crystal, she's a hero

For she made herself move on

She's a mother, actress, daughter

with a super cool young son

Where she went I don't know where

But, she ended up on top

Ther rumours were she married

In fact they said that he's a cop

they say that she's still out working

In the clubs, out with the girls

But she's no longer a dancer

She's out showing them the world

She's helping them get into school

They confess to her their sins

She knows of what they talk about

For she's been just where they've been

She doesn't go by Crystal

She now goes by her real name

But, she might just live next door to you

And to tell would be a shame.
PS Jun 2015
Gypsy Rose Lee.
Is that you or me?
Does that make you Baby June?

The favourite and best
No concern for the rest
You sing and you dance in the tune.

Or just like Gypsy
You learn how to strip tease
The glamour and glitz of the night.

But who's mama Rose?
And how could I know?
She pushes and leads to a fight.

But Gypsy is magic
And a rare art form
And June is so dainty
Doesn't know when she's born
She's the centre of attention
She's the first one who speaks
And Gypsy is left there
Still being Louise.

Chow mein and lambs
Travel the land
A show on vaudeville stage.

Let me entertain you
Let me have a try too
Honey, were you not entertained?
Has anyone ever seen the movie/musical Gypsy? Well I love it!
Rob Kingston May 2015
The spring tide arrives
Dolphins dance on the water  
visions of lovers
dipping into sun lit sky
speaking in whistles and clicks
J M Surgent May 2015
I don’t think I offended her,
And I don’t think she was sad
But the way she looked out at us
With envy, perhaps,
As we walked out of the club
Left me feeling something
In the pit of my stomach
I can’t quite understand.

She stared as if
We were kids at the party,
Boredom matching desires
To let the night take fire,
Arriving in nice cars,
Ordering expensive drinks
Watching a show
We'd only paid money to see.

She stared as if
Not from her view;
Legs split
Betwixt stage and sound,
Dancing somewhere between
Some kind of neon dream,
And a place she’d prefer not to be.
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