Tag Archives: Dance

Speaking of Language

Posted by thom amundsen on

I know that when I looked at you,

a new interpretation of purpose popped into mind.

I suppose it was the color of your hair,

the manner by which you tilted your head,

how the afternoon sun might light up your eyes.

I wondered about our lives,

where we are,

how soon we can come to realize,

everyone crosses paths with that notion of

satisfying their own definition of ambience.

~

Listen to the beat as we travel together,

sweep across the tiles,

our feet in unison, our bodies melting

to the rhythm of a Latino cadence,

such that gives our soul the freedom to fly.

~

A novelty is the delight when found in sync

we desire the same,

recognize the brilliance of admiration,

knowing ours is one we share,

contains the many years of hope and desire,

that compassion that the first time I saw you,

the sunlight suggested I do love you.

On Montmartre Stairs

Posted by thom amundsen on

Circle

Photo of The Day

( I do hope this fits with the figurative notion of ‘circles’)

A rainy afternoon,

we would cry together today,

svelte hands and wrought iron rails,

steps that concrete shavings felt right,

we did smile as with our turn we might catch eyes,

if not this turn, the next twirl I could find you there,

we dashed to the doorway, the rains were heavy,

in there our embrace becomes a mix of delicious love,

peek out, see the misty rain, the street below,

we own the moment, let’s dance to our center.

~

On an august evening the steps were trampled by

strangers in the night who would pass our memory,

we could always recall that kiss by the oak,

the quiet night, where a luminous magic

began our journey together – we did walk

until we could under the lampost

remember our night together,

long before the business of life forgot their way.

*photo: Allen Parseghian Photography

I Still Cannot Dance

Posted by thom amundsen on

Throughout my life I’ve tried a rhythm

yet followed I am by a worry of them

that soulful populace happy to dance

while for me if I do, its taking chance.

~

So often is the energy round in motion

while clever facades pretend emotion

speak to me sated with journeyed love

give my desire a sign from above.

~

Tonight, tomorrow, every single day

I rise to an occasional tedious way,

yet too often are my smiles new haunts

nobody knows, no-one certainly wants

~

A day in the life of a worn out soul

fragmented floating parts of a whole

Brought Together

Posted by thom amundsen on

In an international fire

she burns the minds

an electrifying voice

to the people

to the women

to the girls

brought together

~

To be just that

girls

women

people

in a global fire

an energy

brought together.

~

She would lead

with an entourage

all sleek in eye

move with us

say legs and arms

flail in a rhythm

brought together

~

A global fire tonight,

I watched the admiration

the people speak

in a fashion so alive

all of us can cry

she lets us believe

Beyonce together.

~

Global Citizen Festival.

When We Dance

Posted by thom amundsen on

We choose to release,

we walk together, alone

with eyes perhaps our own,

we wish only to dance.

~

when I stumble it is

because

I want so badly to learn,

yet in the throes of

letting go,

so often

I find I can

live  another way,

without the restraint

of not settling

for that circus

that society bleeds –

expectation.

Suggest to me

a new cadence

for then I might,

be on the front

line

the starting point

rather than always

needing to learn the steps

a little later on.

I would

I could, I would, I should,

I

decidedly want to

be

able

to

walk inside

a dream

and twirl, as it were,

like her majestic stallion

of prurient nature.

… and then Carole King Stepped onto the Stage …

Posted by thom amundsen on

broadway

I am truly moved to weep

watching Broadway’s talent

dance across the stage

in that venue of endearment

where everything they work for

becomes showcased in a showcase.

I don’t have tears of sadness

they really are filled with joy

Seeing such delightful real lives emote

beauty, grace & elegance

at the highest level

of public entertainment.

… and then Carole King stepped onto the stage …

Do you remember when

all of them were elementary students

star-crossed eyes hoping to

be in the, perform as the, sing with a

passion in the school play,

the fall musical,

that one talent show,

the Christmas pageant,

the dance recital,

their senior project,

in a garage band,

just short of the karaoke bar

before they were swiftly drawn

to that element shadowing Times Square.

Dance across the stage,

sing with all of your heart,

shine in front of everyone,

for deep inside

when you question your ability

because after all

we do know that as humans

we are always wondering;

know you have reached that showcase

and the human condition

no matter the obstacles …

brought your enigma, no anomaly,

to the hearts and soul

of all those real people, all those faces,

all those masses that make our lives real,

emulate our lives on the stage.

Sweet, Storied, Solemn

Posted by thom amundsen on

dance

I like to remember smiles

yours is one

a deep healthy laugh

real, genuine, resonant.

I see your eyes,

know this as you cry tonight

that there might be, we cannot predict,

some solution that sounds

far more wonderful than this reality.

~

A vision began things

set the tone,

created moments,

steps, strides, special

delights, filled hearts

with movement, grace, elegance,

a niche your eyes choreographed.

~

One time I saw tears

very real and poignant,

that told me a story

about human nature.

~

Yours, soft, real passion.

We all find days

we reflect upon

we decide to earn

a new moment,

desperate measures to move beyond

confusing outcomes, decisions, mandates.

~

Special are the hours spent

in poetry slams,

dance competitions,

bringing worlds together

in little rooms

where language held no barrier.

The smiles, the laughs, the tears

all so nostalgic today.

 ~

Live beyond the fury of indecision and walk forward

in sweet stride, elegance storied, spoken solemnity.

There is Dance

Posted by thom amundsen on

We are blessed with a physical purity
The stretching of limbs
Arching the back to reach a moment
Legs that will move impossible heights
Shoulders that cave and blossom
And grace shadowy figures
Allowing each one’s presence
A further driving desire to reach …
Drawing designs across the stage
~
An empty stage
Instrumental echoes
The human form takes a walk
Turns to writhing, reaching, surrounding
Twirls, twines, twists – head thrown back
Legs responding to each sound wrapped
Together
Arms realize a motion that blends
Filling the empty room, enveloping
The eyes of an audience meant to see
~
If I were alone
In quiet solitude
With an empty stage
Might my physicality reach a level
Outside the eyes of an observer
For within my dance
I do wish to find an answer
Until that time evolves
I might continue to recognize
Movement and grace with elegant stride
~
For whenever I might wonder about life
I know as in a walk on boards, there is dance