This Poem was Submitted By: Rick Barnes On Date: 2004-06-14 18:24:58 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Dancing For The Gods
The Gods were restless tonight.
They wanted to watch me dance.
They love to laugh as I jump and twirl
and twist and kick and prance.
So…I moved to their music.
Half-heartedly tepid,
slight and measured I stepped,
then finding feet I improvised
'til care could not keep step.
Then, dared do things true dancers do
once they’ve become adept.
Oh, you should have heard them H-O-W-L
as I shook some of this,
thrum some of that
and pioneered a twirl
where I was spinning so fast
I had a 360 degree
view of the world.
Their laughter had the sound of THUNDER!
Birds were fleeing
children were crying
and full grown adults
were ducking behind,
beside or under
whatever they could find,
as I dipped over here
then I slipped over there,
and I leaped through mid-air
as if I were Nureyev with wings.
I did this little sashay
ending in perfect pli’e,
then I bowed low and fled the stage,
running like a hunted, bleeding deer,
to the one place that could deliver
the solace of a quiet mind,
the whole world from your perspective;
over your shoulder from behind.
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Copyright © June 2004 Rick Barnes
Additional Notes:
For Joanne
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne Duval Morgan On Date: 2004-07-06 00:37:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.85714
Oh Rick, I love this poem and the tribute to Joanne. You describe how her poetry makes me feel, like dancing, feeling the beating of the earth. There is so much movement encapsulated in your wonderful choice of words, lyrics that transpose one to sensation. You always write excellently, and this poem supercedes the norm. Emotion, sensation, visual sensation, all combined in the most wonderful tribute.
I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to respond, however I do what I can when I can, besides my computer is on the last legs, and I often wonder if I should dare even try.
Once again, no disappointment, just a wonderful freeing sensation. Hope I interperted your poem correctly, but regardless well written and as always enjoyable.
My best regards, Joanne Morgan (a fan)
This Poem was Critiqued By: Karen Ann Jacobs On Date: 2004-06-21 19:28:57
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
I was really enjoying this poem until I ran into the word thrum. I'm not sure what the word thrum means but my gut wanted to say thrummed instead of thrum. I've looked up thrum. Yahoo dictionary said, "To play (a stringed instrument) idly or monotonously: thrummed a guitar."
That explains why the word was familiar to me but I wasn't sure about it. My estranged Mom was a classical guitarist. I think thrummed would have kept the flow better. I loved your use of the word sashay. There is something about that word that just makes me smile.
I had to think about the ending before I got it. I think I get it now. You were saying, "hindsight is 20/20". I really like the way you phrase those last two lines. Thanks for a very enjoyable read and for the smile.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-06-17 17:12:21
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
The Gods were restless tonight.
They wanted to watch me dance.
They love to laugh as I jump and twirl
and twist and kick and prance.
I love the lighthearted rhythm you have established here
So…I moved to their music.
Half-heartedly tepid, [I think I would like an additional syllable here]
slight and measured I stepped,
then finding feet I improvised
'til care could not keep step.
Great – takes me to – “…will he won’t he will he won’t he come and join the dance?” - L . Carroll
Then, dared do things true dancers do
And to “Do I dare to eat a plum?” – Profrock
once they’ve become adept.
Oh, you should have heard them H-O-W-L
as I shook some of this,
[perhaps thrumed?] some of that
and pioneered a twirl [what a great phrase!]
where I was spinning so fast
I had a 360 degree
view of the world.
Their laughter had the sound of THUNDER!
Birds were fleeing
children [-were] crying
and full grown adults
were ducking behind,
beside or under
whatever they could find,
as I dipped over here
then I slipped over there,
and I leaped through mid-air
as if I were Nureyev with wings.
I did this little sashay
ending in perfect pli’e,
then I bowed low and fled the stage,
running like a hunted, bleeding deer,
to the one place that could deliver
the solace of a quiet mind,
[a] whole world from your perspective;
over your shoulder from behind.
Wonderful! Thanks for the dance.
Roni
This Poem was Critiqued By: Wayne R. Leach On Date: 2004-06-14 21:02:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.40000
I refuse to linger when there's no need. Beautifully done. Very rhythmic dance, very acute form [pun intended]. Nicely rhymed, perfect cadence. If Joanne isn't appreciative, I will be exceedingly surprised. Write on, sir. Peace. wrl
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-06-14 19:40:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Rick:
I'm overwhelmed, to say the least. That you dedicate this to me makes it,
well -- astronomically rewarding, and as much of a surprise as if Ouranus
himself, or Zeus, had stepped out of the clouds and spoken directly to me.
I don't think I'm composed enough to articulate my response. I didn't see
the dedication until I was at the end of the work, as I was engrossed in
each line, watching "Nureyev with wings" transform into the "hunted,
bleeding deer." I think that the mythological persona suggested by this
poem is Chiron, who could cure everyone but himself. He had the wound
which would not heal, yet he was a healer for others. As you know, in his
pain he tried to trade his divine nature for Prometheus's mortality. Due
to his sacrifice, Zeus granted Chiron immortality once more. I believe he
represents three unified realms, the animal, human and divine. In your
poem, I can sense all of these in you, as the speaker. I also think that
when we share our thoughts in the realm of poetry, we allow others to
see our wounds, which may not be healed, but which heal the reader. We
share our divine gifts, our appreciation for nature, our sense of
mortality. You've given all of these gifts to me in this poem.
The Gods were restless tonight.
(Our friends Ouranus, Zeus, Kronos? Which one was the dancing god?)
They wanted to watch me dance.
They love to laugh as I jump and twirl
and twist and kick and prance. --the irony is not lost on me
So…I moved to their music.
Half-heartedly tepid,
slight and measured I stepped,
then finding feet I improvised
'til care could not keep step.
Then, dared do things true dancers do
once they’ve become adept.
He dances the dance of life, often improvising, because he does not know that
we are already "true dancers", already "adept."
Oh, you should have heard them H-O-W-L
as I shook some of this,
thrum some of that
and pioneered a twirl
where I was spinning so fast
I had a 360 degree
view of the world. ---What tremendous energy builds here - how out of control it all
feels now.
Their laughter had the sound of THUNDER! (By Jove!) And now.
Birds were fleeing
children were crying
and full grown adults
were ducking behind,
beside or under
whatever they could find,
as I dipped over here
then I slipped over there,
and I leaped through mid-air
as if I were Nureyev with wings.
Eonaeons of compressed effort, a panoply of human history enacted by one
actor (dancer, poet) on the stage of life. Everyman. Everywoman. You.
In my estimation, you are "Nureyev with wings" and your wings are these
words. As for a quiet mind, the peace that you sense comes in great
measure as a response, a dance, if you will. We are part of the
same dance, and you remind me of this with each poem. Incredible.
KO'd,
Joanne
heavenly space
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