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Steve Page Feb 14
I should have
sought your hand as we walked,
slowed and not swallowed
my next question

I should have
asked you for one slow dance,
danced instead of imagined
decades on

I should have, could have,
perhaps would have
had we slowed
and given ourselves time
Funny how decades don't fade some memories, even if you can't be sure of them.
Zywa Feb 4
Behind the curtain

of his music he dances:


the master flautist.
From Orpheus's lyre to the flutes of the *****

Composition for ***** (or harpsichord), SwWV 319, on the theme of "Ballo del granduca" ("The Grand Duke's Ball", 1590, Jan P. Sweelinck), performed on January 27th, 2024 by recorder ensemble The Royal Wind Music in the Organpark (arrangement Hester Groenleer)

Collection "org anp ark" #347
Lily Mae Jan 13
Ego was stripped from skin
in layers until the trail of tears
was no longer visible to the blind
eye

Monks chant in the distance
as souls dance to the melancholy;
strength of the limb is tested
...wearing Sunday's best

Frayed rope is placed on ivory
rough against the delicate truth
only to be choked before it could be heard

Lover be ******; pained eyes meet
the noose being tightened by hands
that once cupped the breast of the Mother
...betrayal found in man's milk

Foundation is kicked away in one swift
motion; crushing the pathway of life
swaying with eyes wide open

Ego killed the delicate that day
a day of broken promises; dreams
forever became a lie, the lie truth

Delicate is still here in the shadows
swaying between trees in an eternal
dance in Sunday's dress
...waiting for the neck to fully break

Haunting Ego's chance~
Savio Fonseca Jan 13
Speak to Me, thru your Verses
and Tangle Me, with your Rhymes.
Dance your Steps, to My Whispers
and ****** Me, in your Mind.
Lock Me, with your Rhythm
and let your Spirits Glow.
Cradle Me with your Fantasies,
So My Passion begins to Flow.
Your Love, is so very Precious
and U have a Heart, that's Pure.
Your Love has all the ingredients,
It has the Power to Cure.
PERTINAX Jan 6
The morning dew drops fell to their rest

Little stars shine moonlight reflections

Each reminiscent of the different dimensions

To which water can be a part

For on the tapestry of earthy green leaves

A universal ballet is being rehearsed

As spinning fractals dance to the rhyming crickets

Whose choir hums to a classical melody

That soars as high as ancient redwoods

Towering above the dew drops as they pilè

Into a pirouetting waterfall

Whose crash sends cosmic waves

Of pitter pattering percussion

That quickly rises to a triumphant crescendo

Only to fall silent as the first light of morning

Transforms the dewy pantheon

Into glorious diamonds of golden rays

Whose attitude stands defiant

Against the altitude of the coming vault

Back to the skies from which dew cried

A forlorn mist longing to reach the clouds

And escape the terrestrial embrace

Whose gravity forever tugs with tidal force

Turning mist to rain to fall in stars

Droplets destined to reunite with the lonely night

And once again dance to the dew drop ballet
For a visual experience please visit my page on commaful https://commaful.com/play/pertinax/dew-drop-ballet/?sh=1
Two ancient eagles often meet
free and high, celebration dancing our death spiral or mating dance.

Flying over this weeping willow forest lands we found
Our white willow tree bark healing properties own
salicylic acid relieving pains and inflammations.  

Our beautiful pendular branches, the weeping willow trees of us, symbols of fertility are; out willow trees grow best by side roads by body of water rivers lakes, or ponds. And us special eagles, mate by the sea.

And like us our willows of life attract scary snakes, but also birds bees butterflies, cocoons moths many diverse birds make a home in us. Our willow trees seem to hide a fertil sadness within.

In our roots, creatures find habitat restauration erosion control and perfect ******* growth of 6 to 8 inches length.

Our willow trees filter poisons grows quickly and live longer with a human touch like ours.

Our weeping willow tree established root systems decontaminating water and soil.

Raindrops drip down our leaves. My weeping is called pillow P**y willow tree.

When our weeping tree grows largest it casts a grave size shadow and a family member goes supernovae or so it's written.

Thank you my weeping willow tree, sweet poet mine for placing baby blankets under our weeping willow tree.

Your invitation uncovered accepted loved and cherished eternally.

To the one poet Sonnet 75 my
True love, this one honors the day my smile captured thine heart, my weeping willow my everything beloved.
~~~
Inspired by a tree of life planted in my honor once upon a time.
~~~

By: Mr And Mrs Andrews
https://youtube.com/shorts/_Jn499wTp1A?si=EixykCTh7LFS_ybg
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2023
~inspired by Lar Lubovitch,
gifted to Glenn Currier  
who made my eyes water-dance this
morning ~
<>

raise the arms in preparation
for an articulated genteel waving
to keyboard,
an elegant slow descent,
fingers extending, splaying,
but in fine coordinated curvature

for they are 24 carat gold filled fingertips,
word & dance-art~infused
i king and expelling sounds of dancing words,
all over my body

some body part of me,
grasps that the cylinder of ink,
becomes a baton,
single instrument director,
an attaché,
an additive~lubricant,
for all my orifices,
firing rocket-in-the-air bomb bursts
while body in its entirety
motions,
shuckin’ and jivin’
in the prayer~poem first position,
a rock n’ roll motion,
back and forth,
to fro,
holy mesmerized

words run down my arms,
letters drop encased in salt drop capsules,
from the intuition in my eyes,
we see them forming words,
pooling,
without volition,
upon,

all my surfaces, but they
a mere conveyance,
bringing these expulsive explosive verbs
in an ordered fashion,
to your eyes,

intuitively,
asking you
to dance with me,
begging you
to envision me,
hearing the piano maintaining rhythm,
while a violin crys out in a overly long held notes,
concertinas  bellowing,
all together quavering,
oscillating, emoting,

and you!
you are reading me perfectly

so we dance in unity
cheek to cheek,
to the song of
our poem,
our words, our tongues,
our entire entities,
rogue kissing
thyreez-thy Oct 2023
My suit is wrinkled, fresh yet wasted
Food is before me, barely tasted
Everyone dances, their dates close at hand
I sit alone, yet I understand
This should faze me, yet somehow I don't care

The floor is neon lit and the room is dark
Colours there to illuminate, to bring a spark
I walk through the couples who dance away
My mind is blurred as the music plays
My Ex-date sees me and stares the other way
"Its alright" I say, I predicted she would never stay
She finds my consideration queer
I carry on walking, my direction never steers

I'm outside in the cold, my hands feel numb
My mind is faded, to darkness I succumb
"Thyreez" I hear a voice in the wind
I see her and the real night begins
No face is needed, I Remember the voice
I stare from the balcony, the venue was a great choice
"So I" she speaks, but I'm not bothered to listen
The shadow holds my hand, I push it back
"Go on, go inside, go enjoy your final year, go grab a snack"
She finds my request rude and storms in
I'm alone, a silent but well deserved win
I check my phone "19:45" 2 more hours
The rest of the night will be spent staring at towers
A poem on how I expected Matric Ball to be before Covid cancelled it, I don't exactly share these ideas anymore but still always found them as lonely affairs if not with friends  you know
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