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"foxtrot" poems
** “Except for needs I can pack everything I have 
into my old black sea-bag.”  * ** "I wish I had written that line, I said loud enough for him to hear." He shuffled around in his stool and raised his cup to get   hit with a refill. Frustration wiggle I call it, you know like when your dad couldn’t let you struggle with a puzzle. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot announced his irritation "Where have you been, swimming shallow side?" "I stated swatting away needs like mosquitoes on sweat when I was seven." He peered past his coffee, furrowed his brow and rubbed his tongue over his lower lip. "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, why do you keep saying that, I asked" "Guess you’ve never been in the military. College man I reckin, fancy degrees and you don't know Alpha Zulu?" * From Alpha Zulu by Gary Lilley
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
you won't even look at me in school, but when I show up unannounced on Sunday mornings with smoothies, your mom welcomes me in, you descend the stairs with your graceful, conservative foxtrot of a gait. you hug me hello and we laugh about things like normal people. your dad comes in from the yard work to say hello to me, ask me where I'm headed to college. everything is the way it should be but you won't even look at me in school.
0
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
Sunday mornings
Will you dance with me? Even in the stormy seas Will you dance with me? Let our spirits soar and swing Can we hold on While letting go At the same time Of everything Throwing our cares Like brilliant kites Into the wind Watch the sunrise Never looking back Again Watch the sunset Our inhibitions Free to Bend Will you dance with me? Illuminating Follow me into the sky Reaching out beyond the top Our hands are linked We cannot stop Can we spin And fall And sink Can we glide And blaze Within the blue Twisting and turning Like eagle lovers Often do Will you dance with me? Let our inhibitions chime Across the heavens A storm of flames All brilliant-like We are The sound Of lightening As we Tango through the stars Exploring galaxies And Mars There is no limit To how far We will frolic In our waltz The universe Is ours Will you dance with me? Vibrate from head to toe Rhumba and foxtrot With our hearts Whirl and sway A feather dance Of native love In Every Way Will you dance with me? Can we spin And fall And sink Can we glide And blaze Within the blue Oh, how I want to be Twisting and turning Here with you Like eagle lovers Often do Will you dance with me? A dance for all time A samba, a strut A step where We unwind Releasing our fears Painting our tears Watching the sky Become the canvas Of our eyes No longer Dreaming Of your Spirit Catching you Catching me Catching you Eternally Dance with me... tHE tERRY tREE
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
DANCE WITH ME
There are no ways to safeword out of this life. I know, I’ve tried them all. Elephant, apple, Alaska, amen. Tried screaming anything into the pillow my face is pushed down into, Whiskey, tango, foxtrot, stop Exhausted my vocabulary against the blanket my fists are balled into fists against, Anything to make the beatings stop But they just Keep Coming. In **** having a safeword is like wearing a seatbelt. There are rules about having one And the ones who choose to do without Are taking risks. We are born without lifejackets, without seatbelts and safecut scissors Without breakaway glass or rubberized mats Without any way to make the world slow down Let us catch our breath, And jump back in. There are no hard limits in the real world. So we bite into our gags and wait for the session to end. Elephant, apple, Alaska, amen.
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Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC
Safewords
Probably just a man with his gloves on backwards Darkwood doves in his outercoat pocket figs and fossils hanging off his earlobes silky cigarette smoke scooting up his fingers got a moody mad eye and he knows how to use it when he gets a brain block, he breaks it with a breeze block nudges out mice and shrews from his foot box fixes up his old bow-tie for the foxtrot there gonna see his burnt out knees and elbows easy to fix though, with a bit of Velcro
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Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC
Mad-eye Moody
Sweet lips encrusted in sugar from the hot doughnuts at the steam fair. Baked in the dusty sunshine of an August afternoon in North London. I would roam these streets from childhood into adulthood, Drinking £2,50 wine at bus stops only to get thrown out of the pub for illusionary bathroom shots Our real crime? Being too young. Since then, i have drunk Spanish manzanilla in an old tobacco store room Transformed into a house where wafts of old book smell mingling with the scent of baked terra cotta and lemon trees sweeps down dark corridors revealing hidden gems of traveled souls. Where there are streets that belong to Phoenician women , Arab traders , Christian crusaders and now the Spanish folk All these names we go by , yet still human we stand Up on roof tops, smoking sneaky roll ups to the elegance of storks Building nests on church domes and castle walls Monuments to remind the future Graffiti on the natural landscape , the ruins read " we waz ere" From shores of the Atlantic to shores of the Atlantic Brooklyn rises The night bus to eat pizza alarmed me How were the buses so different ? London's told you where you were New York's Made you suss it out for yourself In the company of a Father i hardly knew and the Mother of my new sibling Child , Who will you become ? Shaped by the contrast of your parents skin , your curled hair yet to emerge from fresh formed follicles Rest easy , This world Ain't so harsh I found God at the bottom of a bowl of noodles Simply sitting there , lazing about as i licked my lips of the residual chillies and sugar I deal in the order of paradoxes Born by the sea only to grow up in the 'so called' luxury of the cities jungle Although, resting now in the moon soaked mountain air , no city can compare, to the fragrance of flowers that bloom and scent only for those who brave the night I used to be afraid of the dark , Now i make love with it.
0
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 3:26 PM UTC
Transitionary phases, with hindsight , become but a twirl in the foxtrot
Sweet lips encrusted in sugar from the hot doughnuts at the steam fair. Baked in the dusty sunshine of an August afternoon in North London. I would roam these streets from childhood into adulthood, Drinking £2,50 wine at bus stops only to get thrown out of the pub for illusionary bathroom shots Our real crime? Being too young. Since then, i have drunk Spanish manzanilla in an old tobacco store room Transformed into a house where wafts of old book smell mingling with the scent of baked terra cotta and lemon trees sweeps down dark corridors revealing hidden gems of traveled souls. Where there are streets that belong to Phoenician women , Arab traders , Christian crusaders and now the Spanish folk All these names we go by , yet still human we stand Up on roof tops, smoking sneaky roll ups to the elegance of storks Building nests on church domes and castle walls Monuments to remind the future Graffiti on the natural landscape , the ruins read " we waz ere" From shores of the Atlantic to shores of the Atlantic Brooklyn rises The night bus to eat pizza alarmed me How were the buses so different ? London's told you where you were New York's Made you suss it out for yourself In the company of a Father i hardly knew and the Mother of my new sibling Child , Who will you become ? Shaped by the contrast of your parents skin , your curled hair yet to emerge from fresh formed follicles Rest easy , This world Ain't so harsh I found God at the bottom of a bowl of noodles Simply sitting there , lazing about as i licked my lips of the residual chillies and sugar I deal in the order of paradoxes Born by the sea only to grow up in the 'so called' luxury of the cities jungle Although, resting now in the moon soaked mountain air , no city can compare, to the fragrance of flowers that bloom and scent only for those who brave the night I used to be afraid of the dark , Now i make love with it.
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33
The Magical Date Last nite was a celebration! And before it all begun He held me by my hand so close We were off to leprechaun land! The naughty elf with his impish pranks His sinful teases and wanton ways His playful gestures, fractious delights He rushed me off to his wilful fays We found ourselves in a Keatsian bower In 'embalmed darkness', 'mong 'white hawthorns' It was fragrant with the jasmine veils That covered the roof of rosy thorns we laughed and sang old happy numbers we talked our hearts out gleefully After aeons of blue moon we'd finally met A magical date it had to be! And so when i looked up to his eyes It held mine in a purple gaze In a trice of a second he was off with me Speeding through the verduous maze Help! i cried but held on tight Our windswept hair, our amorous plight His fervour, vigor, force and power Was all i felt that wondrous night Elf or gnome, genie or sprite A naughty brownie or the nisse vampire Bogie, goblin, fairy, nymph He carried me through the forests dire... So just wen I can close my eyes Just when i feel im missing him He's there as he says hes there with me Off we go into the woodlands dim We dance a waltz, a salsa true A foxtrot, a ballet in embrace tight In white moonshine, in purple rain When dewdrops catch the morning light. And then again with every dawn The magic wanes, the elf resigns To mossy groves and sylvan lands And the elfin grottos of my mind.
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Dec 20, 2011
Dec 20, 2011 at 12:37 AM UTC
The magical date
Twist and twist That's what they all do Twist and twist **** those insides of mine Why can't they learn that I don't like to tango "Eye Spy with my little eye" The reason why my insides learn to dance Feats of contortion on display Each pair of salsa dancers going for the gold These duos never know when to quit They want those mighty 10s but... **** this brain of mine This little dancer is satisfied with last place He once was prized to finish out top tier **** this brain, stop shaking feathers Get the foxtrot down and finish this waltz otherwise let the inside rest they having feelings too
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Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 5:53 AM UTC
Twist and Twist
c o n t a c t up-stairs roof-top toe-tips the-edge long-drop flourish/ball-lightning echo-foxtrot plunder/of the gods/thunderous once more glance-down and it’s merry-go-round vertigo      lost - and - found you shout my name c o n t r a c t impact   cement face-torn to shape a smile laugh      'after a while crocodile' ; the last witty thought my mind does attract devil  pact         and  the  gravity mortally  i n v e s t e d arrested     now c o n t a c t
0
Jan 22, 2023
Jan 22, 2023 at 9:25 PM UTC
b r i n k
Rock my pelvis Like a pervey grandma's scorn **** my big daddy Like it's ****** **** Dance on my fatty Like a foxtrot patty
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
Red as Roses
Baby why you hit me up At three am? Greet me with a lazy sup And break my heart Oh Darling did you think this through Darling didn't you know I'd miss you And for all this time I thought we'd still be in love All this time I thought we'd never be done But life carries on And now I can do things I couldn't do before I can pick my nose And slam the door You may not be here But I still can breathe You may not be near But I am still me So I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore Got my mind on an electric buzz Got me drunk on a dizzyin' high I'm spinning dusk to dawn And I'll forget we'd ever said hi So I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore Oh, anymore Baby you took my heart Ripped it apart And I'm just pickin' up the parts Part of me wishin' that we'll be together Another part knowing that we shall never speak again But now you can do things That you want to do Hit up that girl You'd always talk to Hope she eat you well Like I use to Hope she is just as good As I was to you Still, I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore
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Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 12:42 AM UTC
Dancin' On My Own
Baby why you hit me up At three am? Greet me with a lazy sup And break my heart Oh Darling did you think this through Darling didn't you know I'd miss you And for all this time I thought we'd still be in love All this time I thought we'd never be done But life carries on And now I can do things I couldn't do before I can pick my nose And slam the door You may not be here But I still can breathe You may not be near But I am still me So I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore Got my mind on an electric buzz Got me drunk on a dizzyin' high I'm spinning dusk to dawn And I'll forget we'd ever said hi So I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore Oh, anymore Baby you took my heart Ripped it apart And I'm just pickin' up the parts Part of me wishin' that we'll be together Another part knowing that we shall never speak again But now you can do things That you want to do Hit up that girl You'd always talk to Hope she eat you well Like I use to Hope she is just as good As I was to you Still, I'm dancin' on my own! (Foxtrot, jive, samba) And I know more than I've ever known (Charleston, swing, salsa) See me dancin' on my own (Foxtrot, jive, samba) My heartbreak has made me grown (Charleston, swing, salsa) And baby! I'm puttin' you in a corner And baby! I ain't gonna be a mourner When sunrise come knockin' on my door Baby, you won't be on my mind anymore
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80
I tried to write a novel once. It was about a town called Foxtrot, Kentucky in the hot Georgia summer and three people that lived there. There was a symbolic dogwood tree (it stood for innocence) and it rotted away when the femme fatale was ***** Her lover ***** her; he was apparently a violent man. Her other lover mourned but was not sad anymore once he had shot the ****** Then in recompense the lady opened herself to him. "1+0=3" she said. And that was when he realized that the universe is *** a battle of creative impulses. Someday I'll go back and try to write about Foxtrot, Kentucky again. This time, the man will be ***** and we will see what the universe is like for him then.
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
Foxtrot, Kentucky
When I think about that poem I used to have a sour taste in my mouth You have used me for good, here and there I love being here and dear I’ll gladly take those punches BECAUSE Sweetheart, I’m your Superman I don’t have to be invincible for you Just a friend who can protect you And I have done my job well BECAUSE Sweetheart, I’m your Superman I will always be here to protect you No matter who says what, or even the circumstances I love you and that’s that BECAUSE Sweetheart, I’m your Superman Don’t worry, you aren’t ****** if you do Or even ****** if you don’t Trust me I see that my job is clearer now BECAUSE Sweetheart, I’m your Superman Although I am usually very able to fulfill my job Right now, this Superman found her Kryptonite So I hope I don’t have to beg But if I start to fall SWEETHEART Will you be my Superman?
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Mar 11, 2012
Mar 11, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
If Rabbits did the Foxtrot the 2nd
the way you look at me, the way you make me smile the way you move, the way you style i move mountains for you, a thousand miles wit' you, i'm never doubtin', worship the fountain the club is open, you can feel the vibe lights on the dancefloor, lights on the dancefloor baby, you so handsome, you are the ransom love you in the air, we got a certain flair floating over oceans, frozen magic moments as i hold you tight, so precious, precious jackpot, jackpot, i will make your back hot meet you at the hotspot, within the night clouds put dem lights out, i'm newsy, right to it let's do it, you moan like "i knew it" crystals in the water, you stop to breathe and now be good baby, don't leave the hood baby sad dancers, what are the chances? do you have anything to live for? what are the chances, sad dancers? what do you live for? you know the answer? what do i live for? i don't know, fo' sho' do i have a motto? i don't, i be blotto operation foxtrot, observate the top, top dealing in souls, workin' deep holes sadness is flowin' through me, like yumy i'm feelin' toony, like betty boo blew me in times of appetite, you meet the true me in terms of copyright, you meet the true you i'm at the building site, lightin' the dynamite everybody hype hype, don't mind the twilight girl in the moonlight, down in the snownite the flakes are blowing, and you are snowwhite a glow is in your smile, and your eyes are twinkling i will buy you an island, ice bags and diamonds all dem words, all dem worlds are shinin' all you need is me, you just want a lion sad dancers, what are the chances? do you have anything to live for? what are the chances, sad dancers? what do you live for? you know the answer?
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Sep 15, 2020
Sep 15, 2020 at 10:35 PM UTC
Sad Dancers
the way you look at me, the way you make me smile the way you move, the way you style i move mountains for you, a thousand miles wit' you, i'm never doubtin', worship the fountain the club is open, you can feel the vibe lights on the dancefloor, lights on the dancefloor baby, you so handsome, you are the ransom love you in the air, we got a certain flair floating over oceans, frozen magic moments as i hold you tight, so precious, precious jackpot, jackpot, i will make your back hot meet you at the hotspot, within the night clouds put dem lights out, i'm newsy, right to it let's do it, you moan like "i knew it" crystals in the water, you stop to breathe and now be good baby, don't leave the hood baby sad dancers, what are the chances? do you have anything to live for? what are the chances, sad dancers? what do you live for? you know the answer? what do i live for? i don't know, fo' sho' do i have a motto? i don't, i be blotto operation foxtrot, observate the top, top dealing in souls, workin' deep holes sadness is flowin' through me, like yumy i'm feelin' toony, like betty boo blew me in times of appetite, you meet the true me in terms of copyright, you meet the true you i'm at the building site, lightin' the dynamite everybody hype hype, don't mind the twilight girl in the moonlight, down in the snownite the flakes are blowing, and you are snowwhite a glow is in your smile, and your eyes are twinkling i will buy you an island, ice bags and diamonds all dem words, all dem worlds are shinin' all you need is me, you just want a lion sad dancers, what are the chances? do you have anything to live for? what are the chances, sad dancers? what do you live for? you know the answer?
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40
Self consumption & suspension dance Tango. Glee & bliss perform synchronized ballet. Ignorance & fragmentation slouch through a Foxtrot. Trust & disgust mirror in pantomime. Words & action engage in seizure-like Jazz. Amusement & confusion amass in couple's Swing Pride & pity pound in Pogo Compulsion & obligation grind in obscene burlesque. Desire gives Prudence a lap dance. *Their red eyes meet, but never reach. Their shaking hands and feet reach, but never touch.*
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Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
DeControl
She chose me from among the younger boys to cross the long floor and on the far side, in the half-curtained sunlight she took hold of me and my innocent limbs - she helped me reach up her long back, guiding my trembling hands - and then she enveloped me, joining her body to mine. I could feel the damp of her warmth, our bodies rolling together while her music set the pace which I struggled to maintain, but somehow I kept in step with her rise and fall, with her supple flow, navigating this complex dance, deep in this safe space in the circle of her practiced arms. The pre-pubescent boys looked on and the teacher's graceful Foxtrot took me across the full length of the room from boyhood to something new.
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Jun 19, 2022
Jun 19, 2022 at 3:13 PM UTC
A Saturday morning, one hot June, aged 11
When I think of that night I have a sour taste in my mouth You want me here and there but I can only take so much I can only be here and only take so many punches BUT Sweetheart I’m no Superman I wish I was invincible so we could be together Maybe it’s best that we aren’t I wish that I could fight like you do BUT Sweetheart I’m no Superman You say you care and you say you love But I can’t see past your wall of mistrust You want me to be a hero but that’s a wall I can’t get through BECAUSE Sweetheart I’m no Superman I’ve dealt and stayed for as long as I could This can’t be the end for us I don’t want to say this and I can’t believe I am BUT Sweetheart I’m no Superman I’m loved and wanted now, needed Cared for and let in to help like I should I wanted you so bad BUT NOW Sweetheart, I’m her Superman
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 1:53 AM UTC
If Rabbits did the Foxtrot
what i write here, now , is truth condensed, distilled into poetic moonshine to be consumed by a creative soul and then for that soul to begin to dance the exotic fandango, or the quickfire foxtrot or the haunting vienna waltz whichever, whatever, beats, within the willing heart that dwells with quiet, wistful wanting in the backroom of their psyche so, ignited and on fire they dance then, they laugh a joyous unbound sound producing an exuberant euphoria and a destiny of such wonderous flight so that, they, you, me, would see the cosmos from above at night and marvel at the stars, stitched against the cloth of darknest blue then, learn to love them one and all, as they, those bright, shining things float, fly, crash, burn and fall, for as scribes, we must learn to write all the stages of a star's plight. not just the dizzying ephemeral heights.
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
white lightning....
I was a dreamer content with all my blessings Striving for perfection; wishing my life away I lived inside of lala land and flew into the sun I drove towards high ambition but steered with blind hesitation Always second guessing cupid's arrow with a microscope Like a pessimist on a soap box, defensively corrupt I was bleeding my soul out onto invisible horizontal lines Crying out for that someone who had once stabbed me in the dark Blaming all my issues on things I can't take back I don't know why or what kept me so amused with trouble Something in the heat of danger keeps me satisfied You were different Something difficult but interesting Calm and collective Someone I could never be You were a wayward child running from the truth Just looking for an escape or just another muse to keep you entertained You were filled with the chase of recklessness I was filled with light of faith I was uptight at somedays, but you let time lead you astray And the peak of the adrenaline keeps you stimulated just barely enough... Just enough to keep you coming back for seconds Just enough to sugar coat your stomach Just enough to keep you smiling on the edge who knows what You needed something to keep your eyes from rolling in and out of sleep You were used to the sour aftertaste broken promises and lies I was highlighting the ultimate and envying the game I was use to disappointments and devouring the pain of the unforgivable But I was challenging and you admired it We were opposite like Mercury and Neptune But all those underestimated ingredients are what makes the dancing possible As we Tango past the moon and we Foxtrot across the stars I pirouette through all the difficulties and we fall back into reality And you catch me here on planet earth Right back to the beginning, where it feels like home
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Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 10:18 AM UTC
The Dance Home
I was a dreamer content with all my blessings Striving for perfection; wishing my life away I lived inside of lala land and flew into the sun I drove towards high ambition but steered with blind hesitation Always second guessing cupid's arrow with a microscope Like a pessimist on a soap box, defensively corrupt I was bleeding my soul out onto invisible horizontal lines Crying out for that someone who had once stabbed me in the dark Blaming all my issues on things I can't take back I don't know why or what kept me so amused with trouble Something in the heat of danger keeps me satisfied You were different Something difficult but interesting Calm and collective Someone I could never be You were a wayward child running from the truth Just looking for an escape or just another muse to keep you entertained You were filled with the chase of recklessness I was filled with light of faith I was uptight at somedays, but you let time lead you astray And the peak of the adrenaline keeps you stimulated just barely enough... Just enough to keep you coming back for seconds Just enough to sugar coat your stomach Just enough to keep you smiling on the edge who knows what You needed something to keep your eyes from rolling in and out of sleep You were used to the sour aftertaste broken promises and lies I was highlighting the ultimate and envying the game I was use to disappointments and devouring the pain of the unforgivable But I was challenging and you admired it We were opposite like Mercury and Neptune But all those underestimated ingredients are what makes the dancing possible As we Tango past the moon and we Foxtrot across the stars I pirouette through all the difficulties and we fall back into reality And you catch me here on planet earth Right back to the beginning, where it feels like home
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35
A jot, a blot is all I need To give my thoughts their sweetest deed I swing and swirl this loot of ink As letters dance to what I think Think not and write you cannot do Like Napoleon to Waterloo For what is war but a loss in wager A broken truce in a piece of paper? Papers shrink and end in bins As writers make their painful sins But how can that be not far better Than to hallow one with a price much greater? Greater than the boldest force And the many knights in their battle horse Is a gobbled pride left sealed in wax To unleash the sheep and **** the fox Foxtrot to the endless seams Of choicest words and inner hymns Writing is a hundred twice as fun And safer than a loaded gun Guns may pierce the human flesh But words hit straight a person’s chest For what it’s worth, a mighty mortal Can fall to such a force as equal Equal to a slash of sword Is an ample dash of pointy words A blood spill sure can end a war Don’t you think a pen can get that far? Far and near are distant words That pens can glue but not the swords For I can rule the world and sprout a seed A jot, a blot, is all I need.
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May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 1:19 AM UTC
Handwritten
At the center of everything there is a beat- of a heart of a drum that carries all life. It all moves, fluxes, and flows. a waltz, then a foxtrot. It doesn't matter, it's all the same- same life force, same song. I, too, hear that music, and so I dance.
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 1:50 AM UTC
In Tempo
And for your love and the romance of our lives I've decided to attempt dancing and all the glories that come along. For, this romance isn't the aroma of accordion music filling the Paris streets at nighttime, while a couple dances under the streetlights, as rain begins to fall. It's a romance about humanity and desire and its heartache that tries to tango in the suburbs and tap in the slums, whose clumsy movements cause embarrassment for any party involved. This love has a rhythm unlike a big band hit or a bluegrass hand-clapper. It has a rhythm all of its own. Closest to, maybe, jazz. The real jazz. The Harlem jazz. Sparatic and unpredictable. Upbeat, swinging cymbals and trumpets. Then a slow sax, with bluesy vocals crying out in pain. Because you can't two step or foxtrot or tango to that. You must step carefully. For this romance is fragile. You cannot choreograph in advance or synchronize moves with your lovers'. You simply must listen, feel, and move. This dance of love must cause you to cry and smile and melt and ache and desire to make love all in the same motion. Or it's not love. It's an imitation aimed at the beautiful and elegant. And we aren't that. We're humans with souls and flaws who desire these false motions and harmonies of love, but who need to still understand love's true tender and heartbreaking steps that have no recognizable rhythm, but that promise a lifetime of love. So, I will not learn love's romantic moves for they are unteachable, but I will attempt, for your love and romance, my dear, to sway to the music and stay beside you and follow your lead as we wait for the drums and the horns- and the music to begin.
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Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
The Dance of Love
And for your love and the romance of our lives I've decided to attempt dancing and all the glories that come along. For, this romance isn't the aroma of accordion music filling the Paris streets at nighttime, while a couple dances under the streetlights, as rain begins to fall. It's a romance about humanity and desire and its heartache that tries to tango in the suburbs and tap in the slums, whose clumsy movements cause embarrassment for any party involved. This love has a rhythm unlike a big band hit or a bluegrass hand-clapper. It has a rhythm all of its own. Closest to, maybe, jazz. The real jazz. The Harlem jazz. Sparatic and unpredictable. Upbeat, swinging cymbals and trumpets. Then a slow sax, with bluesy vocals crying out in pain. Because you can't two step or foxtrot or tango to that. You must step carefully. For this romance is fragile. You cannot choreograph in advance or synchronize moves with your lovers'. You simply must listen, feel, and move. This dance of love must cause you to cry and smile and melt and ache and desire to make love all in the same motion. Or it's not love. It's an imitation aimed at the beautiful and elegant. And we aren't that. We're humans with souls and flaws who desire these false motions and harmonies of love, but who need to still understand love's true tender and heartbreaking steps that have no recognizable rhythm, but that promise a lifetime of love. So, I will not learn love's romantic moves for they are unteachable, but I will attempt, for your love and romance, my dear, to sway to the music and stay beside you and follow your lead as we wait for the drums and the horns- and the music to begin.
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My breath dances a foxtrot across her island flavored skin-- coconut and passionfruit scents grapevine together, as our joyful heartbeats intertwine like a hummingbird's wings in air. Her peppermint lips embrace my nordic, hipster bear fuzz skin-- her feline eyes sing into my soul, our flesh folds together like a hungry flame devours wood, we burn into crystal ash.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
Scatter Us Where You So Desire
You've got to have some rhythm if you're going to boogie down. At the latest tango hotspot at the Roxy in the town. The principles of foxtrot and the sways of swing will show. That dancing with your heart will always make your passion flow. When the bossa nova starts and the lady sings the blues. The time is now to shake your hips and don your dancing shoes. You trip the light fantastic, your shoulders shake in time. Your fingers snap and feet will tap along to mambo rhyme. The rumba stirs the frenzy of your heart in Latin beats. You feel the crazy samba in the footsteps on the streets. Your ready for your spotlight doing cha cha cha and jive. You can never stop the lindy hop to keep your soul alive.
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Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 5:27 AM UTC
Like No One's Watching.