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Nelsya Apr 2016
we waltzed
into the bridge of
a ballad melody
slowly crippling upon our feet
steadying everything
to ensure the one whose falling is
nothing close to the heart

the melody
dawned us into
a trick of pain we need to evade
to ensure that neither you
nor i got the scratches
from the shooting arrows of the Amor's

before the cacophony blaze came
deafening the ground
we swore to never cross the swollen hope
and bring ourselves to another fallout
even with the closeness just
an inch of breathing the air
of a faintest droplet of eternity

and again
we need to ensure
not to let the feelings infiltrate our waltzing ground
not to let other sound come ruining the walls
which we have construct for too many years—
to be called for another destruction
Stained Page Mar 2016
Sauté, that's how he made her heart leap.

Pirouette, that's how he made her head spin with the thoughts of him.

Tours en l'air, just thought of having him will brought her the feeling of having her feet off the ground whilst spinning like he is doing some sort of sorcery.

And the *waltz
, she have witnessed him do this and soon found herself drawn to him, drawn near, too near and all willing to let him take her and lead her to the slow beat in contrary to her heart's fast thump.
Tess Calogaras Nov 2015
I am a selfmade machine.
I respond to notice and attention.
Wires tampered
I say the strangest things.
Proclaiming my love to everyman
I've ever met
and then hiding as soon as they
retort.
I often wonder if I
just do what I think
I am supposed to do.
Perhaps the world has told me
as a woman,
to be constantly yearning;
never satisfied.
I ponder it over each day and night,
I churn it into bites
and swallow.
I find desperation.
Mere affectionate action,
making my stomach bleed.
Though as they waltz away,
I thirst for their hand
to cup my shoulder blade
hand to their shoulder seam.
What is a girl supposed to do.
Love pushes itself against me
and I find myself ungracefully turning it
away.
Copyright Tessa Calogaras 2015
Old poem
One great thing about social dancing is
you get to touch people.
Sounds weird
but it's actually the most beautiful thing in the world.
Ballroom dancing- waltz, rumba, swing
oh my words, it's such a beautiful thing!
I'm not that good, but I can follow
if you lead, if you take me along.
Give me your hands, we'll go for a walk
down the dance floor, around the many couples.
Quick, quick, slow
One, two, three
Triple step, triple step, rock step.
Beautiful.
Why do you dance? Perhaps for the same reason as me...
perhaps to find some purpose in your own infinity.
Perhaps we've both come here with pain in our hearts
let it out, let it get washed away by the joy in the room
that will not leave any time soon.
Get swept off your feet by someone you like
You'll learn to go with the flow like riding a bike.
Listen to the music from the 30s to the 80s
and lift your feet to the rhythm of the ballads.
Ask that person if you can have this dance,
don't let them get away before the night is over,
before the last song.
Touch them, they'll touch you.
It sounds weird, but it's so
so beautiful.
this is obviously about dancing, my newfound love.
Luiza Müller Oct 2015
I am here to undress the pain
She’s a great dancer
I just ought to know the steps
Sally A Bayan Oct 2015
lovely Saturday morning....
      might we dance a bit today
         to ease off some sadness?*


DANCE
(A repost...some editing done)

The neighbor's stereo was playing tango music
      too loud, it made me  look at my red painted toes...
i realized, my feet hadn't even swayed
for so long now,
they've grown timid...and wary
  
All i want is to dance,
to be safe, warm,
close to one, as close as
cheek to cheek,
go left, then right,
lean, cling, then hold hands,
be held on the waist,
dip, then circle gracefully,
and step, a stretched arm away,
be brought closer once again,
hearing clearly the sighs
as the music reaches a high.

But, it was a chicken dance i had joined then,
the shaking and jiggling were so
repulsive...convulsive...confusing.
it mattered not who fell out of the beat
the desire waned,
fires die,
fires died, alright.

My feet are raring to swing back,
to be alive once more
on life's dance floor
no more falls, trips or missteps this time
just steps with a slower beat
with more grace now,
who knows,
this could be my best dance
ever!

This has got to feed my jazzy mood
play my chosen music
maybe do the shimmy for a while,
then shift to the bossa nova,
swing to its cool, hip-py rhythm.

Whatever the beat may be,
my partner and i,
we shall blend in while we do the mambo,
the rumba, cha-cha, even tap dance,
to celebrate this new chance on life.
I only  wish that on our first dance together,
we may dance the samba on the wide floor,
let the hours fly by.

Then, with a waltz,  we'll take it easy
until we finally get weary,
until we decide....to slow drag
the night away.

***


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sally A Bayan Jul 2014
Dance

The  neighbor's stereo was playing tango music
too loud, it made me look at my red painted toes.
I realized, my feet have not even swayed
for so long now,
they've grown timid and wary
of making the wrong step.

All i want is to dance,
to be safe, warm,
close to one, as close as
cheek to cheek,
go left, then right,
lean, cling, then hold hands,
be held on the waist,
dip, then circle gracefully,
and step, a stretched arm away,
be brought closer once again,
hearing clearly the sighs
as the music reaches a high.

But, it was a chicken dance i had joined then,
the shaking and jiggling were so
repulsive...convulsive
confusing.
it mattered not who fell out of the tempo.
the desire waned,
fires die,
fires died, alright.

My feet are raring to swing back
to be alive once more
on life's dance floor
no more falls, trips or missteps this time
i'd like to dance with a slower beat
with more grace now
who knows,
this could be my best dance
ever!

This has got to feed my jazzy mood
play my chosen music
maybe do the shimmy for a while,
then shift to the bossa nova,
swing to its cool, hip-py rhythm.

Whatever the beat may be,
my partner and i...
we shall blend in......be it mambo,
the rumba, cha-cha, even tap dance,
to celebrate this new chance on life.
Together,
we shall dance the samba on the wide floor,
let the hours fly by.

Then, with a waltz,  we'll take it easy
until we finally get weary,
until we decide
to slow drag
the night
away.

  ***

Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Anshita Mehrotra Sep 2015
i hate it;
i ******* hate the way you hold me in your arms
-and make me feel like nothing could ever matter more,
and so i sat in the rain for hours
until i went numb
felt anything but your touch;
dancing on the tips of my skin
carving courtesies in the pores of my heart
and every drop burnt like acid
-because the rain was an intruder beginning the tango
when i had only ever learnt;
the waltz
so then my bones chartered swiftly with the violin that was your voice and with the waltz that is this heart
this may be a bit confusing.
but simply,states that all of me was accustomed to him,and now the touch of anything but him,felt too foriegn to contemplate.
I have an illustrious dream,
     want to be Leonard
          Cohen's gypsy wife,
he's kissing my lips on
    Boogie Street,
impetuously we dance
    to the end of love
       'til closing time
       midst his secret life,
he serenades me with
     I'm your man
         when we take Manhattan,
bewildered by his poetic beauty there
     waiting for the miracle to happen,
a sip of wine, a cigarette
         in love we disappear,
   here it is, you got me singing
        be that dog in heat,
I'll take this waltz and
   another please, cause
             everybody knows
     I hunger for your touch,
  his famous blue raincoat
         and the dew on my thigh
goes a thousand kisses deep
   in the cave at the tip of the lily
  with its very own breath of brandy,
slipping into the masterpiece
             where Lenny is eternal
If you don't love Leonard Cohen's poetry and music, it probably won't make much sense.
Brenda E Suhan Jun 2015
Right, left, back – what?
Flames flicker to the rhythm of
Your feet
And waver
At the ripple of my laughter.

Your palm pressed to mine:
Fire soldered to water.
I twirl and
Your eyes
Extinguish mine.

-bes-
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