Posts Tagged ‘dance’

Folks always extol the worth of certain souls,
Sportsmen and craftsmen and merchants,
Politicians and drivers and hairdressers,
They glorify the benefits these have upon their lives,
Overt blessings upon their lives,
But do think they think of the artists?
A true unifying force of human nature,

Less important?

Less palpable in their perks perhaps?
Sculpture to break up the monotony of construction,
Literature to open the mind,
Music to bring an emotive bounce to your being,
Paintings to lay bare invisible elements of the human condition,
Theatre to bring to life stories of eons,
Dancing to exhibit human beauty in mobile styles,

Less important?

Imagine your day without television or busker melodies,
Your living space without beautifying icons,
Without the great paintings of historical genius,
These may not keep your body alive,
But they breath life into your soul,
We need the arts to be human,
And not mere machines.

As I lay incapacitated,
Upon this grassy knoll,
My shoulder and lung run through,
By barb of crossbow bolt,
I spy my Lady-General,

A maiden of war,
This carnage is her dance,
Dashing from dance partner after dance partner,
Bestowing upon them crimson terminal flourishes,
Spewing ribbons and pyrotechnics to applause of screams,

This theatre,
Spanning over ruined meadows,
With fire and arrows overhead,
A charnel drama,
Host to my Ladys baneful ballet,

Chinks in mail,
Gaps in plate,
All find spots for her blades,
She leads the way,
Bringing the wardance to the enemy,

Morosely she kneels at my side,
“We are War”,
“But your dance is over”,
Wistfully pecking me farewell,
I fade into the abyss.

I am chased,
By hounds in white and blue,
My dress torn in the panic,
They slaver monstrously,
I know not why,
I only performed my nightly dance,
An energetic noctural song,

It was a frenetic dance I’ll admit,
Sensual and rabid all at once,
All rondos are,
I know my dance partner was somewhat loud,
He was inebriated and untried after all,
He was a simple drunken sap,
But I’ve elevated him to art,

My dance partner fell down,
Maybe the dogs want to help him,
He shrieked wicked ecstacy,
He painted the stage in such crimson,
A scent of iron and sweat,
With my terminal flourish,
The rondo of knives,

Each step punctuated with a jab,
Each stab releasing ribbons,
As he collapsed wide-eyed,
I asked him if I was a beautiful dancer,
No answer,
My knife applauded at least,
My biggest fan,

The applause almost dampened the sirens.