"terzanelle" poems - Hello Poetry

This poem is composed by: a Nonet, a Kyrielle Sonnet, a Free verse part, a Terzanelle and another Free verse part: In a juerga there’s nothing around But voices, flamenco guitars , Dancing bodies in moonlight, Vibrant gypsy dresses, Passion, obsessions, Bullfighter’s blades, Silk shawls, Dancers, Capes. Old men have faces scorched and cracked, Flamenco women to attract, Like barks of olive trees in night. Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight. Girls have boot heels and huge roses, Men clench their teeth , step opposes, Hands clap and shout in a dance fight, Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight. Guitars are beaten at high speeds, Castanets scratch the music’s seeds, Rhythmic fingers snap air to bite, Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight. Old men have faces scorched and cracked, Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight. Hands becoming wings In their shadows on the wall, Red becoming black and Black becoming white, Motion vibrating the guitar's string, Cubic movements of colors, In their dance , Shadowy wings becoming scarfs, Flamenco woman arching her body, Showing her passion… From the soul to dissolve The dancing sounds detach From the soul to dissolve When the movement they catch, They may change all around, The dancing sounds detach. Drums and tambourines’ sound, Exotic wrists and swirls, They may change all around. The weightless grace makes girls Steal treasures from the air, Exotic wrists and swirls. With beautiful black hair, Rise like birds , fall like leaves. Steal treasures from the air, Having tricks up their sleeves, From the soul to dissolve, Rise like birds ,fall like leaves From the soul to dissolve. Spicy slippery steps Waiting for a clue, Picking up portions of pink Of hyper-femininity , Overflowing screwy sounds In heavy red chromesthesia, Morphing themselves into glamorous , Red feminine movements, Men looking like marble statues being alive, Seemingly cracking. Slowly diminishing their dancing rhythm, Steps sickling sweet sounds To hear the horn of some lost happiness.

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Jun 5, 2012

Jun 5, 2012 at 4:36 PM UTC

marieta-maglas

THE FLAMENCO DANCE (Complex Poetic Form)

This poem is composed by: a Nonet, a Kyrielle Sonnet, a Free verse part, a Terzanelle and another Free verse part: In a juerga there’s nothing around But voices, flamenco guitars , Dancing bodies in moonlight, Vibrant gypsy dresses, Passion, obsessions, Bullfighter’s blades, Silk shawls, Dancers, Capes. Old men have faces scorched and cracked, Flamenco women to attract, Like barks of olive trees in night. Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight. Girls have boot heels and huge roses, Men clench their teeth , step opposes, Hands clap and shout in a dance fight, Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight. Guitars are beaten at high speeds, Castanets scratch the music’s seeds, Rhythmic fingers snap air to bite, Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight. Old men have faces scorched and cracked, Shirts dazzle white in the moonlight. Hands becoming wings In their shadows on the wall, Red becoming black and Black becoming white, Motion vibrating the guitar's string, Cubic movements of colors, In their dance , Shadowy wings becoming scarfs, Flamenco woman arching her body, Showing her passion… From the soul to dissolve The dancing sounds detach From the soul to dissolve When the movement they catch, They may change all around, The dancing sounds detach. Drums and tambourines’ sound, Exotic wrists and swirls, They may change all around. The weightless grace makes girls Steal treasures from the air, Exotic wrists and swirls. With beautiful black hair, Rise like birds , fall like leaves. Steal treasures from the air, Having tricks up their sleeves, From the soul to dissolve, Rise like birds ,fall like leaves From the soul to dissolve. Spicy slippery steps Waiting for a clue, Picking up portions of pink Of hyper-femininity , Overflowing screwy sounds In heavy red chromesthesia, Morphing themselves into glamorous , Red feminine movements, Men looking like marble statues being alive, Seemingly cracking. Slowly diminishing their dancing rhythm, Steps sickling sweet sounds To hear the horn of some lost happiness.