"waltzed" poems
And when I met that girl in San Francisco
Off a dusty little pier
with rotting wood
and squawking seals
And screaming bayside wind
She caught me off-tropics
and danced with the grace
of a palm tree
lines between the quaked
concrete
off telegraph avenue
On an obscuring Sunday morning
and no
she didn't go
to church or any silly thing
like a temple or synagogue
She said those were no places
for god
God was the trees
We smoked cigarettes and got off to each other's
carcinogenic practices
oxidizing a little faster in conjunction with hopeful
Formaldehyde
Deriding the formalities
of small talk and trivialities
She liked her guitars with nickel-wound strings
I with nylon
But I couldn't play songs
that sounded any good with them
while she could
and did.
and girl did it ever sound good
She'd laugh at the contests on the radio
while we drove on a half-moon
to half-moon
full and whole of ourselves
We'd stopped in the lobby of a cheap motel
And waltzed to background
muzak
wacked out of our minds
Sniffing in deep huffs of subliminal
divinity
Understanding
loving
that mind-numbing
monotony
muzak...
ppsh.
Who ever really listened to that?
And then she left
at the end of one fine winter day
in a cloudless sky I waved
watched her plane
skip off
towards the edge of a pale blue horizon
back south
to warmer climes
to wherever she truly stayed
The tugging on my heartstrings
chimed grotesque in
precise
D minor.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 9:23 PM UTC
I danced with the devil by the deep blue sea
he injected his venom into me
he waltzed in looking handsome and slick
I didn't know his poison would make me sick
I saw a white dove the devil turned it black
then I knew I could not turn back
the devil held me in his hand,
as my blood dripped in the sand
the devil he has many faces,
appears to people in many places
the devil he plays many games
the devil he has many names
sometimes he'll come with a smile
and your mind he will beguile
sometimes he'll come with a frown
that's when you know your going down
he'll hold your soul in the palm of his hand
as he grinds your ashes into the sand
I am the Devil remember my name,
you may know me as ... CRACK *******
(c) P Skez and Mandy Rigby 16/06/2014
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 5:46 AM UTC
My life was saved the other day
A golden retriever, both dumb and brave.
Country winds howling in their greatest defense
As I waltzed 'tween electric and barbed-wire fence.
He let out a bark, “It's time to turn back!”
Soon followed a powerful THUD and a CRA-A-A-CK.
If not for that old dog running after me,
I would have been stuck under a fallen oak tree.
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 8:57 AM UTC
*Dancing With Chopin
By Jude Kyrie
Vienna 1896
Do you like Chopin she whispered.?
Yes Milady I love Chopin.
Then we shall dance sir.
The darkened ballroom was lit
only by the candelabra
of the moon and stars.
As they waltzed to his nocturne
The pianist delicately flowed
each beautiful note, like raindrops
falling softly in the nighttime.
She was so lovely in her gown
So much what he wanted
But in a station far beyond his.
He had promised her.
Even if they could not be as one
In this lifetime he would wait
for her in the next and they
would spend eternity together.
Vienna 2014
Each night they
met in the famous old ballroom
they would dance to Chopin
only Chopin, forever.
As the soft darkness of night
melted into
the approaching light
of dawn they faded
leaving only silence.
The old caretaker
approached the ballroom.
And said to himself
I am sure I heard Chopin again*
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 6:12 AM UTC
The pitter-patter
(pitter-patter)
of the rain against my window
attempted to lull me to sleep,
but sleep
(pitter-patter)
pitter-pattered away.
Nature's mournful tears
waltzed down my window
and collected in pools of sorrow,
and every thought
in the back of my mind
was pulled forth for
reflection,
knocking me off the edge
of unconsciousness and into
the restless abyss that is
insomnia.
I tried counting sheep,
but they were all
nestled together -
in a bundle of
wool and dreams -
taunting me in their
slumber,
teasing me in
dormancy.
So I laid there
and thought,
and spoke to myself,
and dreamed
of a restful night.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
What I managed to regrow,
You stomped on.
You waltzed into my garden
Like you had grown the whole place yourself,
Your nose in the air.
You looked at my carrots and scoffed,
My cucumbers you mocked
And you thought my garden gnomes were ******
And I let you,
Because you acted like you knew so much about gardening
You said the caterpillars would help my leaves
And the crows would **** out my rotten veggies
But those cruel birds have just been eating away at my prize-winning squash,
and the tomato worms....well, they ate all my ripe tomatoes.
You said you'd help me tend to my garden
But you rarely make it over
And when you do, you throw a shovel in my face
And tell me to get on my knees.
You watch while I ****
And talk about the grandeur of the flowers next door.
And I wonder as I wipe my brow,
What I ever thought I needed you for?
And why you ever came over in the first place,
Since you obviously prefer pretty colors to nutrition
And you must have had some notion that I would one day realize,
That you've never kept anything alive in your life,
And you don't even have a yard.
Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 6:55 PM UTC
So… he looked on, watching from afar the imagery of family.
Now alone, sitting in place on an old cranky stubborn
porch, eighty-one years of tears laughter and memory/smiled;
his smiled gleamed through the haze and humidly
of another summer day: a day that reminded him
of his younger years when the joy in many eyes gathered
for a day of barbecue and rejoice
in his voice, as his raspy cough briefly interrupted the moment,
was the song of an elderly man missing the days of innocence
but briefly in this time, in the sight of the young boy
he now studied from across the street
he saw a familiarity. His vision saw support and togetherness;
his hearing heard the song of compassion
and in the charcoaled flavored heat, his heart felt
what he thought was forgotten;
the genius and destiny of hope. In his life he has seen
once inspiring brick-layered sidewalks become the mask
of crime that has kidnapped a neighborhood once
proud. He has seen the dreams of children become temporarily
paralyzed by the heights of poverty and many visions
of fear. He watched in silence over all these years
but the tears of his mind has always been vocal.
The shackles
of osteoarthritis that now held on to his bones and the slight
battle with old-aged deafness that now challenged
the vibration of harmony and not even the parade
of high blood pressure marching through his veins
could keep him from feeling the pain and decay
of days passed. But as he looked on at the sight
of burgers and hotdogs sizzling on the grill; as he looked on
at the pleasantries of young and old joining in good times
and fun playing the games of life; as he looked on
and lived again through the body language of the young boy
who now looked back at him
he saw the glimpse of renewal in a community
holding on to the aspects of a neighborhood’s inheritance.
For the first time in many decades, he saw the enjoyment
in dancing trees that waltzed in the breezes of tomorrow;
he felt shades of sweat trickle down his bronzed almond skin
that was the welcomed condensation of happiness
and he smelled a renewed energy of genetic fortitude
that was family all in the aroma of summer cooking --
and so…he dreamed on.
Jul 8, 2012
Jul 8, 2012 at 9:47 AM UTC
Dancing With Chopin
By Jude Kyrie
Vienna 1896
*Do you like Chopin she whispered.?
Yes Milady I love Chopin.
Then we shall dance sir.
The darkened ballroom was lit
only by the candelabra
of the moon and stars.
As they waltzed to his nocturne
The pianist delicately flowed
each beautiful note, like raindrops
falling softly in the nighttime.
She was so lovely in her gown
So much what he wanted
But in a station far beyond his.
He had promised her.
Even if they could not be as one
In this lifetime he would wait
for her in the next and they
would spend eternity together.
Vienna 2015
Each night they
met in the famous old ballroom
they would dance to Chopin
only Chopin, forever.
As the soft darkness of night
melted into
the approaching light
of dawn they faded
leaving only silence.
The old caretaker
approached the ballroom.
And said to himself
I am sure I heard Chopin again*
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
Hey babe
I promise you can sleep easy
Now that you're laying beside me
And even though this life can be hard
Please dream peacefully
Knowing that you'll forever be in my heart
I can barely remember a time before you
As soon as you waltzed in, my life became new
You changed me, I'm so much better
It ain't no life if we ain't together
All the laughs, smiles and deep conversations
Bring out the depth of all my inspirations
You inspire me, you put the breath in me
You by my side takes away the insanity
It seems that when you start at my fingertips
You can satisfy me with a gentle little kiss
And all those whispers of sweet nothings
Making me feel all sorts of somethings
I can feel the love just in your presence
Surrounded by happiness and acceptance
I just hope you can feel mine too
Cause this love I have for you?
It's more than words, more than poetry
More than an eternity, it's everything
On the collection of all of my life's work
Your face will be on the cover
Cause when I write? It's for you
And how you've changed me for the better
So sleep easy my prince,
And dream of my love
Cause having you by my side
Will always be enough
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 4:14 PM UTC
Your lips were dew-kissed
Under the velvety sky
The air smelled
Of a June rose
Dancing in the meadow
The sky was studded
With twinkling stars
Like diamonds and crystals
I danced through the mist
And waltzed through the trees
And balled on the shimmering lake
I played my Harp with the Fairies
Who showed me the way to Fairyland
I came here through the hidden-secret door
So now I'm in Fairyland
At least I imagine it's so
Listening to the Enchanted music
Played with the most beautiful
Instruments ever
Perhaps, even some you've
Never heard before
Like bluebells kissed in dew
Chiming like crystals across the stream
Oh, how I'd long to soar
And be a Fairy
With a Key
To Wonderland
And to Fairyland
Even in illusions
I'd love to see this place
Called: Fairyland
Where all the Fae Folk dwell
But this is just
A Fantasy
Written in the sand
~Marian~
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC
His eyes are gleaming
as he glistens from afar,
How beautiful it is to have an
Aphrodite like appearance,
I wonder how it would be like
to fell in rabbit hole.
Why it felt like second hand
though we waltzed on a shipwreck
I lost on his footsteps as I tighten the grip on his hands.
I watched the stardust fall from his eyelash,
dreams do come true
as I fall for that hope.
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 8:09 AM UTC
I remember when I was at the concert.
I could feel the tsunami of the crowd
As the headliner started.
Nothing to hear but screaming and music.
Electricity shot through the veins of all,
Some intoxicated, some not
we all feel the same musical passion.
The time of excitement was now.
Pit after pit of swarms engulf the crowd.
******* in the unexpected but willing.
But to protect a friend,
I was a fortress against the mob.
Listening to the music, the lights flashed.
and from nowhere known,
A natural weapon struck my face.
Turning around, feeling no pain,
But assured of the severity
by the river of blood I unwillingly donated.
Into the washroom, I stumbled.
Blood mixing with the nectar of life.
Outside to the medic I casually waltzed.
Swollen eyes, nose, and disappointment.
Hearing the music from outside the hall,
my heart dropped, I blew the plans of fun.
But never fear, new friends are made.
The blood stops its own current,
and memories are established.
Stories to tell in the future.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
I trod on earth that sparkled
I waltzed beside the moon
Dancing in the universe
To a planetary tune
The comets sang a medley
A spatial serenade
All the heavens hummed the chorus
Thus a harmony was made
The sun joined in in baritone
A rich voice filled with light
The planets played a polka
As we danced into the night
Music swelled around us
In an orbital orchestra
A constellation conga line
The last thing that I saw
I woke from my deep slumber
As I slept beneath that sky
The starlit party glistened
A twinkling tango before my eyes
I woke from my deep slumber
As I slept beneath that sky
The starlit party glistened
A twinkling tango before my eyes
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
2.5k
It is the mundanity of the act,
of envisioning your hand gently wrapped around the copper kettle.
Obstinately gripping the pen, while you wring a sheet of paper dry for the right words.
You, cupping my face as if you were holding something precious.
As if I might slip through your fingers.
It is this devastating simplicity that obliterates every shard of my being.
A brick wall, left at the mercy of a gleaming sledgehammer
that is determined to turn everything to dust.
I see your hands everywhere.
In the haze of steam and shower curtains,
the lines dragged in velvet throw pillows,
the cloudy smudges left on a glass of water.
They run faint paths through my hair, their touch ghosts against my eyelid.
If I stare long enough,
your palm is right there, pressing into mine.
Silver cuts through the air and delivers a redundant blow.
The dust scatters once more.
You did not leave a hole
the way everyone said you were bound to.
Empty space cannot exist without everything that surrounds it, yields to it, forgives it,
validates its gaping hollowness.
Empty space is a needle and thread on the dresser, a sellotape dispenser on the desk, a container of soup left on the doorstep with a get-well-soon scribbled on the lid.
Empty space is where you can see remnants of what once was whole.
The faith and conviction that bit by bit, you will put your fragmented pieces back together again.
The nothing you left was so thick and suffocating
that it permeated every room,
filled my lungs to bursting capacity and left me gasping for more.
Its sickly, bitter fragrance danced relentlessly in my nostrils,
as though my suffering was the sweetest symphony ever heard.
It waltzed until I could feel it rising in my throat and leaking from my eyes,
twirled until my head spun.
The nothing you left insisted on making its presence known my every waking moment
and then gleefully romped its way into my nightmares.
It was so quiet, though.
A resigned quiet, like that of the ****** swinging in the gallows,
when everybody holds their breath to watch the pendulum sway.
The crossbeam glistens with last night’s rain and
they trudge back home, muttering to themselves as the dust settles beneath their feet.
I sink into sheets creased by your fingers and watch it sway.
Aug 21, 2021
Aug 21, 2021 at 6:45 AM UTC
Wave
after wave
Of chilly fresh air
Washes over me,
Slathering me
Smothering me
In your intoxicating natural perfume,
Wafting in from the door you just waltzed through.
Confident,
Assured,
You silently entice me;
Quietly luring me into the spider's web
To devour me mercilessly ,
A wiling sacrifice to the hedonist gods.
Wrapped in your firm embrace,
I melt,
Overcome with the sensations of ecstasy and elation,
As your warm fingers wind through my hair,
Pulling -
tugging-
Bending me to the passions of the moment,
Where I exhale my simple reality,
And sink deeper into the fantasy that you lend me;
A dark and sumptuous world
Full
Of bare skin glistening in moonlight-
Writhing,
And shining
In our our titanic efforts to go to new places,
To attain new highs.
Melding-
We drink in the sultry air
As if it were the wine of the heavens,
Each breath,
a prayer to a distant god
Each sigh,
an escaping gasp of praise to the distant stars,
Bestowing their blessing upon our arching forms.
A place of exquisite torture
Where we waver in wanton abandon,
Unaware of
And without care for
the fleeting worlds around us.
We exist,
In bliss,
In utter ecstatic pleasure,
Making monuments meant to be remembered
And worshipped;
And as our sweet comedown lays us prone,
Gasping
Struggling to make sense of the sensual chaos
That just ensued
With blank minds that threaten to shut down all together
My fingers hold yours,
Locked in
And intertwined with a strong link-
Like a life raft
To carry me over
these waves of bliss.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Is this a power hierarchy?
Does our dueling footwork
Convince us to
Lock into some sort of
Competitive symmetry,
Twisting into your
Mashed potato minefield with
Doo *** , doo dad laden
Dancing shoes?
Gimme your
Electronic sympathy, baby,
Infiltrate the airwaves with
Piercing eye contact and
Tremourous finger tip brushes.
Is my informality coming through?
Have I communicated with
Unlocked elbows and
Megaphone ears that not only
My body but universe
Lives here and in you?
Orient yourself to me,
I task while asking you to
Take off your straight jacket and
Stay a while. Unlock your
Pandora 's box so your
Monsters can meet mine,
Mirrored in different shades of
Shock and shame, operating under
Varied hues of the same name.
Lean into me, let your
Shoulders slender and shimmy to a
Tenderizing touch, the
Objects under your skin collapsing
To the 4/4 timed battle
Between form and perception.
The ingestion of the
Metaphor is the message, and
The tongue regards a tune
Differently than a taste.
Face symmetrical, nostrils work,
The blooming waste of consumption
Centered on the top right corner of
Your cheekbones.
I can't help but grab the
Slight upswing in the tone
Of your voice and spin it around;
Let's swing, darling.
I'd like to take your descriptors
On a date to the dance floor.
How long can we keep this up until meaning has waltzed out the door?
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
Staring at the shock waves
In the water
Where I threw that
Smooth river stone
Looking at the water
Ripple across the river
Little tiny bubbles of water
From down under the river
Where the muddy earthen floor
Is very mossy, here and there a pebble
I'm watching the water glisten
Like thousands of jewels
Flung across the sand
Sparkling in the honeyed rays
Of sunshine
On that hot Summer day
When daisies lazily
Danced the long hours away
And cattails waltzed from shore to shore
Dreaming in the sun
Underneath the sky
Where lazy Summer clouds
Float by in the celestial air
Laden with the perfume of wild flowers
'Tis a nostalgic
Daydream
~Marian~
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 3:56 PM UTC
God I miss him,
I miss the days of old.
I can taste it.
It tasted like a windy summer night.
Where the waxing gibbous moon was radiating;
Lighting up the cloudless night and then reflecting on the surface of my heart.
Where every small movement of he makes
– with his lips, hands and fingers caused ripples.
They were exaggerated in the best way possible.
It tasted like a cold autumn night;
Like the golden, sweet and sticky honey;
drizzled over warm waffles and a hot cup of rose tea.
Where the waxing gibbous moon was glowing;
Glowing through my curtains then onto my mirror,
casting a reflection on my bed.
Where he lies all day,
Waiting for me to return from reality –
to where I truly belong.
Where we waltzed with stars and I slide down the Milky Way
right into his arms.
I am a nefelibata.
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 10:04 AM UTC
Having filled my personality on beer, **** art and awkwardness
my lungs hung heavy and my morals were slightly isolated
as I briefly considered the most direct root
to this girl with the ******* and the possibility to access
which I knew would be quite the test, as I was by far the worst dressed
with my ripped up jeans and hair a mess.
So I finally let these thoughts digress, a decision that I know was best.
For you should not test the strength of my testosterone,
It should always be firmly placed right back at home.
But it was at this moment where I noticed the difference between state and private school boys.
I was outside smoking the smallest, smuttiest rolled up cigarette
When a boy with a name like ‘Monty’ walked past holding a cigar the size of a jumbo jet,
The feelings I felt, both hate and detest,
As he waltzed right up to the girl with the ******* and muttered a charm under his breath.
So with a drunken heart, I went to order a ***** straight and smart.
But the bar was closed, and my song was sung, so with my head well hung and ego stung,
I left the kings and queens of that party, to fulfil their dreams.
As I fulfilled mine with a river gardens Chinese, the finest cuisine.
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 7:15 AM UTC
533
Two butterflies went out at Noon—
And waltzed upon a Farm—
Then stepped straight through the Firmament
And rested, on a Beam—
And then—together bore away
Upon a shining Sea—
Though never yet, in any Port—
Their coming, mentioned—be—
If spoken by the distant Bird—
If met in Ether Sea
By Frigate, or by Merchantman—
No notice—was—to me—
1.8k
They have chopped down that tree
And the bees rush to my balcony,
Dad has cut down those pink roses,
But there are mosquitoes from Aleppo
Flying around my bedroom fan.
I sat on our study table with fairy lights
While my roommate put on her running shoes,
Mosquitoes waltzed around her sugarless tea,
Drank my blood below the knee and flew-
Away to Aleppo, far away to those dead roses.
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
So, I sorta broke away,
colliding into the moon to prove
that you're my number one.
Wipe your tears because I'm here to
promise that I'll always be around,
if not,
I'm near you.
I waltzed with the sun
and mingled with the stars.
always behind bars on Mars,
trapped by your stun gun.
I was the center of galaxies,
oddly enough,
you were the black hole
and seized control
and you made me slip
down to Earth
I smacked my head
and you said,
"Try ******* off instead".
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
Almost
by Michael R. Burch
We had—almost—an affair.
You almost ran your fingers through my hair.
I almost kissed the almonds of your toes.
We almost loved,
that’s always how love goes.
You almost contemplated using Nair
and adding henna highlights to your hair,
while I considered plucking you a Rose.
We almost loved,
that’s always how love goes.
I almost found the words to say, “I care.”
We almost kissed, and yet you didn’t dare.
I heard coarse stubble grate against your hose.
We almost loved,
that’s always how love goes.
You almost called me suave and debonair
(perhaps because my chest is pale and bare?).
I almost bought you edible underclothes.
We almost loved,
that’s always how love goes.
I almost asked you where you kept your lair
and if by chance I might ****** you there.
You almost tweezed the redwoods from my nose.
We almost loved,
that’s always how love goes.
We almost danced like Rogers and Astaire
on gliding feet; we almost waltzed on air ...
until I mashed your plain, unpolished toes.
We almost loved,
that’s always how love goes.
I almost was strange Sonny to your Cher.
We almost sat in love’s electric chair
to be enlightninged, till our hearts unfroze.
We almost loved,
that’s always how love goes.
Keywords/Tags: Almost, love, lost love, loss, lost, relationship, relationships, hesitation, procrastination, hesitancy, vacillation, near, near miss, nearly, close call, miss you, missing you, missing, loneliness, lonely
Jan 6, 2022
Jan 6, 2022 at 8:54 AM UTC