#pointe
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.
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 3:52 AM UTC
Forget your clean glass slippers
For this princess wears pink satin
In her long pink tutu,
Stepping to music in classic latin.
A woman's shoes are important
Walking in a straight line
Most just do not expect to bring
Bandaids when you walk in mine.
You think you have great balance
'till you're on your toes
Cause even when you walk in these
You must always keep your pose
But walking? No. Who does that!?
We twirl from right to left
Constantly feeling motion
'till we feel a threat of theft
So honey, you and your heels
In this competition will lost
For I am always dancing
In my own pointe shoes.
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 3:34 AM UTC
pink satin shoes,
i've wanted,
false;
needed,
since i was six years old,
i craved the bruises and the blood,
that comes with pirouettes
the hot blisters,
bubbling with possibility,
the possible pain,
that comes,
with my first pair of pointe shows
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 5:14 PM UTC
it begins
with silky smooth fabric
like tiny cushions on her
delicate skin
she spins
her back arched ever so slightly
the curvatures of her feet
cuts through the empty air
she is swift
she is fast
she is doing what she
knows best
her fragile stability
is as light as a spider
she dances through the darkness
leading light in her path
the inaudible patter
as her feet
gracefully hit the floor
weave a tapestry
of a love unknown.
the sun
rises as
it is done
she does not remain
she is gone
her blood is a
song
sang just before the dawn.
(b.d.s.)
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC