"terpsichore" poems
'Neath canopy of paradise
Super troupers' shafts of light
Illuminate his terpsichore;
***** he struts, the impresario
Gyrating on spindle shanks;
Needle thin and knock-kneed
He dances a samba
On stage of verdure;
Midst Elvis blue-black thrusts,
Steel rimmed amber orbs
Seek admiring and desirous glances
From the dour drab hen,
Mousy in her beige twin set
And mottled tweed skirt;
With nonchalant disinterest she exits
The arena; audition over.
Jun 24, 2010
Jun 24, 2010 at 11:40 AM UTC
My sweet water nymph
...earlier?!
You wished for me to arrive "earlier"?!
By your side be my life.
I carry your heart through realms of chaos.
Beg my pardon for the lapse in minutes..
Reliving your love can ****
You are thy muse.
Enchanting and mischievous and empowering is your being.
Your aura bleeds ecstasy and grace.
Calliope, Clio, Euterpe, Erato, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia, Urania...
Collapsed in a single body.
What a body.
My sweet water nymph. . .
Carrying inspiration in those stems.
We can't help but bow to you.
Give me your ripened fruit of art.
You poor soul.
. . .my sweet water nymph
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 3:52 AM UTC
Dance is the devil's delight
as you well know.
Tis' often attended
by amorous smiles
unchaste kisses
wanton compliments
and lust-provoking attire.
This from the preacher William Prynne
a pure man and good.
Then comes one
Michael Praetorious
to celebrate this miasma
of corruption
this thing called dance
in the year of our Lord 1612
And to present a well-turned leg
as he lifts his partner's
slender hand
and gives us these joyous songs.
He brings us the recorder
Viola de gamba
tambourine and drum
to celebrate the pure
and frankly ******
pleasures of the dance.
As it happens
I am master of recorder
tambourine and drum.
Sadly born
in the wrong century
with my ears sewed on sideways.
It is strange to hear this world
through ears from the 17th century
to hold the thread of eternity
in one hand
while tapping four-four time
on a jangled skin drum
with the other.
Sometimes I wake in the night
and don't know where I am
in time.
Sometimes I put my lips
to a flute
and ancient airs whisper forth.
I dream of castellated cities
unknown to me
but eerily familiar.
Music is more ancient
than we are
it was here before us
and will be here
when humanity
has exhaled its last.
Of this much I'm certain.
So the music calls!
Dance to this joyous tune
heel and toe
heel and toe
step lightly on the boards!
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 9:32 PM UTC
Dream a dream.
Make paradise twice as nice.
Take away all ills.
Apollo taught muses their crafts.
While playing on his lyre.
The muses danced on laurel leaves.
Paradise on Mount Helicon.
What was purpose of those muses?
I hear your request.
In land of myth from times long gone.
Nine goddesses,
spirits,
to put the world to rights.
With artistry, music, science and literature.
Linked under the heavens.
Forget the evils of the world.
Music, poetry catharsis.
Thalia.
Hysterical lady of comedy it seemed.
Good cheer and plenty sent.
Clio.
Made her history.
Wanted fame 'twas said.
Tried to keep it cheerful.
Along came Melpomene.
Singing loudly while playing around with tragedy.
Urania.
In celestial style,
glances to the heavens.
While Polyhymnia.
Sings and dances.
Making many songs
Sometimes in a silent mime.
The lovely Erato compiled poetic words of love.
Euterpe.
Made lyrics poetical
Brim filled with joy.
Maybe for Polyhymnia to sing
Calliope.
Her beautiful voice is heard.
Nearly a Nightingale.
Maybe singing bird.
Creation of poems based on epics.
Terpsichore
Danced on and on eternally.
While poets pens write on!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 7:30 AM UTC
Well hello, sweet Muses.
How nice of you to drop by
at four in the morning.
Let me make you some tea.
How are you all today?
Oh, I forgot for a moment
that you are goddesses
and are always
exactly as you should be.
I'm fine except my sleep
has become oddly contrary.
But you all know that and more.
You are the magic that
stirs my dreams until
I give up and get up.
You betray me to nightmares,
insomnia, memories and poems
that could certainly wait
for morning if you so desired.
And where have you all been?
For three years, you've been gone
and I have been left mute.
Such fickle ******* you are,
only bestowing your favors
according to your whims.
But we have all, back to Homer,
known how unfaithful you can be.
Now you've returned and I can't sleep.
You know I'm not so young
as the last time you visited.
I need a little rest occasionally,
but you are working me to death
as if no time at all has passed.
There should be a union for poets.
Of course, I will do your bidding as usual.
Calliope, Clio, Euterpe,
Thalia, Melpomene, Terpsichore,
Polyhymnia and sweet demanding Erato.
It's nice to see you all again,
all so lovely and immortal,
but please remember I am only a man
and a man can only take so much.
So please, try not to show up before 8 AM.
~mce
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
I call upon their harmony
They honor me with artistry
The pupils of Apollo's
Lyre resonant inside of me
Calliope adventurous,
Intrepid in her recklessness
Emboldening my will to lead
The unenlightened on this quest
Through Clio's scrolls of history
My oracle clairvoyant
She has graced me with the vision
Of the future sky chatoyant
And a buoyant sea of Euterpe
All floating through the lyricist
That synchronizes all of this
Into a metamorphosis
Evolving as Erato's love
A heart as soft as silk
A dove, tabula rasa thirsting for
The Mother Gaea's milk
To rise from Melpomene
Masks of tragic flaws of Icarus
For I divine the comedies
Thalia simply can't resist
Polyhymnia, Terpsichore
My rarest of expressions
Still reveal themselves in forms
Of spirit guide possessions
When Urania in cosmic bliss
Transports me to the stars
Reborn again to join them
As Mnemosyne's memoirs
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
My cat is alarming the daylight every single rotten day.
I wake up chocking from the un flickering dream,
Numb and kinda nervous, still watching the leftovers
Of characters fighting the path, back into reality.
All my nights since my life began revolving around my addictions
I patronized them, I begged them, I bribed them, what I did or what I not...
Exclusively the ordinary: buying flowers, candies,
Slot machines, **** videos, riding on elephants,
Cornering the cliffs, eating spiders, smoking ***
And beaming at the stars while they were changing music covers
Aside me, in slippers, house dresses and chewing cockies outta space,
Between a tooth and the next one located at five minutes array.
So you cannot call in my nature as a bee. Or not to bee.
All the **** that you can do or not in dreams, I did.
Results presumptuous. As all dreams are.
Vague ends fishing the tale of monster Colombre.
He's old and he's lounging in Poseidon's trident,
Into the space between the waves of gravity
Along with the pearl promised to every human being ,
As long as they are clapping hands for fairies not dying
And children's bed time stories that never lasts enough,
At every gasp they take when something murderous
Is happening while mothers turning into stone are reading,
The horrors of daily news at9 clock whisky .
For a first, they enter into the deem reality
My imaginary ghostlike friends. I waved them farewell, at last.
I don't wanna spend more time buying crickets or entertaining Terpsichore.
Now I'm busy writing songs about them, eating space cookies with a little prince and feasting on crickets with Maruska.
How did we get this far apart, we used to be so close together
How did we get this far apart, I thought this love would last forever.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
Called again into the night
by the three am goddess
on her winged flight.
She drapes tail feathers ‘cross my mind;
She rings her bell
and says “its time.”
Who is this waif, just out of sight,
whose siren call
breaks dream’s delight?
Calliope, Erato too -
Sing Euterpe!
I know the tune.
Show the way down night’s dark hall
to the inner hell
where true love falls.
Terpsichore, swoop round me, do.
Dance memories,
each dressed in blue.
Is that you, dear Melpomene,
come to trump
your sister queens?
Your song, of all, so clear and true -
hold tight my hand,
I’ll go with you.
But wait, whose lantern shines ahead?
Dear Clio knows,
she’s made my bed.
And to it now I shall return.
The words are down,
they’ll no more burn.
I’ll lie awake no more to muse
upon the love
I’ve yet to lose.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 11:17 AM UTC
Fable II, Livre V.
Je suis un peu badaud, je n'en disconviens pas.
Tout m'amuse ; depuis ces batteurs d'entrechats,
Depuis ces brillants automates,
Dont Gardel fait mouvoir et les pieds et les bras,
Jusqu'à ceux dont un fil règle et soutient les pas,
Jusqu'aux Vestris à quatre pattes,
Qui la queue en trompette, et le museau crotté,
En jupe, en frac, en froc, en toque, en mitre, en casque,
La plume sur l'oreille, ou la brette au côté,
Modestes toutefois sous l'habit qui les masque,
Moins fiers que nous de leurs surnoms,
Quêtent si gaîment les suffrages
Des musards de tous les cantons
Et des enfants de tous les âges.
L'argent leur vient aussi. Peut-on payer trop bien
L'art, le bel art de Terpsichore ?
Art unique ! art utile au singe, à l'homme, au chien.
Comme il vous fait valoir un sot, une pécore !
C'est le clinquant qui les décore,
Et fait quelque chose de rien.
La critique, en dépit de mon goût et du vôtre,
Traite pourtant, lecteur, cet art tout comme un autre.
Quels succès sous sa dent ne sont pas expiés ?
Qui n'en est pas victime en est le tributaire.
Le grand Vestris, le grand Voltaire,
Par sa morsure estropiés,
Prouvent qu'il faut qu'on se résigne
Et qu'enfin le génie à cette dent maligne
Est soumis de la tète aux pieds.
De cette vérité, que je ne crois pas neuve,
Quelques roquets tantôt m'offraient encor la preuve.
Tandis qu'au son du flageolet,
Au bruit du tambourin, sautillant en cadence,
Ces pauvres martyrs de la danse
Formaient sous ma fenêtre un fort joli ballet,
Un mâtin, cette fois ce n'était pas un homme,
Un mâtin, qui debout n'a jamais fait un pas,
Campé sur son derrière, aboyait, Dieu sait comme,
Après ceux qui savaient ce qu'il ne savait pas,
Après ceux, et c'est là le plaisant de l'affaire,
Après ceux qui faisaient ce qu'il ne peut pas faire.
Quoique mauvais danseur, en mes propos divers,
Pour la danse, en tout temps, j'ai montré force estime.
En douter serait un vrai crime ;
J'en atteste ces petits vers.
Mais que sert mon exemple à ce vaste univers ?
Je n'en crois donc pas moins le sens de cette fable
Au commun des mortels tout-à-fait applicable.
Chiens et gens qui dansez, retenez bien ceci :
L'ignorant est jaloux et l'impuissant aussi.
1.2k
Clio, you are part of me.
Euterpe, you are too.
Thalia, you lift me up
when I am feeling blue.
Melpomene, you are close to me
Terpsichore, you were my youth
Erato, touch me secretly
Polymnia, you are truth.
Ourania, comes to me at night
and my soul she does enthrall .
Calliope, I love you most,
but see you least of all.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 3:33 PM UTC
Wooden table and a ****** nose
Flows lightly, osculating it’s wood
And if only this could be felt in prose
Only verse can reflect my mood
Clock ticks in the background
I breathe slowly, in acceptance
The excruciating lack of sound
Is breaking my will to dance
And one last song I’d give to Terpsichore
But I don’t have the time any more.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
They're still standing like statues of marble rock.
They still linger in humans hearts bearing the gift of old.
Nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne keeper
of world's memory.
With eloquence and harmony of voice Calliope presides in epic poetry.
In heaven of holy spirit Urania withers away
warden of philosophy.
Sacred is her hymn, sacred is her poetry, sacred is Polyhymnia
the dancer.
Joy and laughter brings Thalia with comedy and idyllic poetry
and men overcome their grief.
With a lyre in hand Clio tells the story of the world
but with no delight Melpomene narrates the tragedy of this world.
She is the loved one, the desired one Erato of loving poetry
giver of delight.
And close to the sea stood another, with a lyre in hand Terpsichore
dancing with her daughters, the Sirens.
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 11:18 AM UTC
*
*Drumbeat spiced with joy
Chiffon hips ****** left and right
Ribbons charm the wind*
*
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 3:17 AM UTC
Dancer: tune up
your body’s chords,
swaying strategically
to the rhythmic commands
of an ancient age.
Princes, kings, and
courtesans:
mark time until the day
when your dance is
recorded on the scroll.
Laughing hyenas:
grimace a yep and a yowl,
and shed your tears
stealthily as would
the muses pray.
Corrugated wrinkles
don the happiest face
when one dares look
upon the choreographer
and turn away.
And we believe
that the chorus is one
and the prima donna
creates a world unknown
where no one pulls the strings.
© Lewis Bosworth, 10/2016
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 4:47 PM UTC
I felt your magnetic energy:
saw a face that can
make men turn from war.
Our smiles made time move
slowly, I sensed pure love
and peace in your presence.
Now I dream we are both
dancing to Eros's rhythms.
Nothing makes me stronger
when close to your fragile heart,
I fell in love with you:
sensing a love truly new.
Falling in love with you was
never my plan. Unbidden,
you spoke to me. I saw the beauty
of life in you, a beautiful soul
that captivated - I responded.
I had admired you from a distance
because afraid if I touched you,
my flesh would be tempted
to do all that is regarded earthly
and sully your sanctity.
Our hearts are interlocked
in deep communion:
thoughts and feelings
merge in graceful motion,
seeding a love ever growing
I imagine us together mute
in moonlight. You, robed
in a silk white gown:
your head bearing a crown.
Me, swaying in a white suit.
So we dance towards
the cosmos. The stars
watch. Sun and moon stare,
as heavenly music bears
us, embracing, into eternity.
TOBIAS
Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 4:34 PM UTC
Entire lives encircle Sol believing that the ancient gods are a fiction.
These joyless sacks of empty flesh have never been graced with a moment in your presence. In that instant, all doubt is dispelled, for at your birth the Muses crafted their ultimate blessing to us mortals.
You embody the inspiration of Polyhymnia, Erato, and Calliope;
sacred, epic, love poetry flows unbidden from even the most
leaden of souls when you are near.
Dreams of grand comedies, heroic tragedies, and monumental
histories spring forth in you wake; each worthy of the pens of
Thalia, Melpomene, and Clio.
Your every sound and step cause Euterpe and Terpsichore to glow
with pride.
But possibly the most magnificent caress cam from Urania; for you,
my Love, are the incarnation of the naked stars in all their
infinite beauty, enshrined on this unworthy Earth.
I wish I could let her know I still ... everything.
Dec 26, 2019
Dec 26, 2019 at 11:33 PM UTC
On any fine day
Ye shall find me with head
in open sky.
In energy river of the galaxy
that calls gracefully.
Any moment I drink I do
the fine wisdom threaded in wind.
Consume it like fine wine
that bubbles
to create phase.
And on any fine night
when owls echo
and moments carry
I terpsichore to hearts song.
A song that makes
life grand.
Feb 1, 2020
Feb 1, 2020 at 8:44 AM UTC
Last night I was beguiled by dreams galore:
of sailing ships, pirates, explorers and more,
but the best for me, was of a country scene.
A quiet rustic retreat, where I was often seen,
accompanied by the music of a babbling stream,
cavorting with Nature. Wandering in my dream
along a brook, where willows danced and swayed,
in choreographed terpsichore, as water music played.
The cadence of rattling reeds: a pulsing even beat,
were as castanets, that energised my restless feet!
There was magic in the music, heard by me this night.
Seduced by its bravura, I savoured the gentle delight,
of soft vagrant breezes, that added their unique refrain,
to the rhythmic tattoo. Enhanced by the beating rain,
perfection then prevailed, with the pleasing music heard.
Complete in all respects, it required no single word
to further foster my enjoyment, of its haunting melody.
As such it was pleasing, and a pleasant treat for me,
though twas a short lived dream; that was soon done!
Of many dreams encountered? This was a cherished one.
Long shall I remember, as a moment to hold dear,
for such entertaining dreams, are a rarity I fear.
Bringing a welcome smile, to replace a morning frown;
raising spirits high, when I’m worried or cast down!
May 3rd, 2018.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 7:26 AM UTC
t'was a moonlit night
when she and he
had a fight.
t'was a blue sunlit
sky
when he and i
met.
t'was a translucent
daylight
where surprising
movements
took place.
at first,
t'was formidable,
daunting, and daring.
she was haunted.
the second time,
t'was sweet,
sweaty,
red,
and tired.
t'was
him and me
under the hidden,
private, and
quiet sun room,
full of kisses,
hugs,
breaths,
temptations,
chaos,
trickery,
and all
terpsichore.
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 1:15 PM UTC
I’ve danced to these heartstring tunes,
In different rhythms of heartbeats.
I’ve danced in every corner,
In daylight and darkness.
All of a sudden, music was cut,
And silence reigned over my heart.
I’ve seen them trip the light fantastic toe,
Terpsichore that my heart couldn’t make,
Without the rhapsodic melodies,
So, alone I had to sing on my own.
When you came to back me up,
I wanted you to stay
For your name composed my song,
Without you I feel incomplete.
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 9:30 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]
Two Verses in the Eternal Hymn
For Cate and Jack
Christmas 2023
From the foot of the Throne
A river flows out into all that is
And with it your music across the universe
To sing the happy beginnings of all things
To celebrate the holiness of being
Past
Dragons and dreams, the Mysteries of Joy
Galaxies of stars, the Mysteries of Light
An abyss of pain, the Mysteries of Sorrow
Eternal dawn, the Mysteries of Glory
Your music spirals and spins among the spheres
Among the orbits and spheres and great mysteries
Great mysteries of beings and things never seen
Your voices join with the songs of Creation
Your music slips into our atmosphere
To sing and ring among the rocks and rills
Voices of love singing joy and truth
Your gifts of beauty to humanity
You and your sweet voices, rare gifts of love
From the Throne of God to us on earth
And back again, music as light as dreams
And deeper than thunder from Olympus
Old Vainamoinen sings at dawn with you
Euterpe, Terpsichore, and Erato are your kin
Apollo tunes his lyre to you, and Pan his pipes
And Cecelia blesses all your works:
Hymns, descants, and carols, merry marches for the road
Bubble-gum tunes for the car radio
Sea shanties for work, and nonsense rhymes for fun
You pray them, play them, craft them all into place
Your music is a sacred offering to God
You sing it out into the universe
Where every note is an ornament forever
And you are two verses in the eternal Hymn
Dec 10, 2023
Dec 10, 2023 at 8:53 PM UTC