For is it woman who might fly
if not his grasp
slipping
beyond her own swift
reckoning
is it man rude in permanence
would slender
such is elegance what
we might wish
could he release
© Thom Amundsen 7/2021
Woman Is Wisdom
Tag Archives: Dance
We May a Soft Dance
Oh as the melody would
our lives in the balance
so envious
could I be, she, him, her as well,
all of us together
internally a maze of
authenticity
for the stars align,
while magic is a mystery
imagine
this is our legacy
to be two people, three,
maybe more who all believe
the other,
someone outside ourselves
could hold truth
in such is a natural
rhythm
might discover
love.
© Thom Amundsen 1/2021
Speaking of Language
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
( 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.
I Still Cannot Dance
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
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
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.
Carpe Diem #532 – Movement – Ethereal Waves
a waltz; delight us
caress each step in delight
arise soft dancer
… and then Carole King Stepped onto the Stage …
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
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.
