Poetic Dances

Slip into your dancing shoes. Come tango. Join a chorus line. Waltz across a ballroom, or an endless marble night.

populate the planet tango

love the musical maestro
conducting affairs of the heart
since the start of the human race
primitive man and woman
stepped out of the cave
first date on a Saturday night
first neandrethal fred astaire
grabbed his ginger by the hair
his way of saying can I have this dance
dragged her out on the dirtball dance floor
stomped and trompled her toes
doing the hey baby
let’s populate the planet tango

love a rhythm section percussionist
pounding blood in the veins
midnight cat prowlers
making the night scene
snapping their pool hall fingers
tapping their barstool feet
grooving to timeless beat
beautiful women
wearing i’m ready dresses
drumming love me s.o.s.’es
men sporting leather jackets
stencilled on the back
i’m no good but I want you
tonight world tour
same old standard new rendition
doing the hey baby
let’s populate the planet tango

other worlds

in our other worlds
we are invisible to the naked eye
we are naked to the invisible eye
our breasts and testicles touch
with less than molecular mass
and smell of gardenias
we eat lusty meals
on deep plush moss-covered
floors of our spotless souls
we cling like ballroom spirits
fancy footwork colored green
with arthur murray's envy
and mighty matadors
toss us adoring gifts
as they beat their chests
and weep with joy
from arena sidelines
for marvelous feats
of grace and stamina
we create in our other worlds
and wake up smiling
with lips all over our fingers

What do you call this kind of blues?

The rhythm is right
smooth and tight
hips are swayin
but the blues are misbehavin
takin on hues in Aruba skies
and starry-eyed infatuations
all flecked with gold
like Maxfield Parrish paintings
no traces of stormy weather
What do you call this kind of blues?

The rhythm is groovy
moves right through me
but the blues keep missin their cues
steppin high on sunny sidewalks
showin up kickin their toes up
in happy high-heeled shoes
at Radio City Music Hall
and sad can’t afford
that ticket at all
What do you call this kind of blues?

Ballroom of Freedom

Last night in my dream
you danced in forever
ballroom of freedom.
You laughed and sang,
lifted your gypsy wife
kissing her into mirth.
Onlookers were beguiled.
Your happiness smiled
my dream to life.

dance with the devil

in shattered dreams my angel lay
upon an empty wedding bed
where fanned in moonlit disarray
her halo glowed on pillowed head

a child no more except to me
a woman only for an hour
now robbed of her virginity
and isolated in this tower

fetched in the night by messenger
on destrier called mercury
i came when bid to succor her
and silent cursed the gods that be

as smiling slumber curved her lips
dismissing me from further need
ire's hand released me from its grip
'til harvest of its planted seed

came through a door of leaded glass
a distant haunting melody
i stepped onto a precipice
above a phosphorescent sea

as licking waves kissed rocky cliff
an astral nocturne pierced the air
inviting pulse and eyes to lift
in search of dark enchantment there

a chandelier of crystal stars
glowed hot above the marble sky
extending out from hell to mars
and then the devil caught my eye

from waist he bowed to welcome me
a dashing figure clad in tails
with smiling eyes so ebony
the pitch of night by contrast paled

i swooned unbalanced on the ledge
and toppled o'er the parapet
a wailing necromantic pledge
escaped my lips to save me yet

for otherwise my certain death
lay far below where surf met stones
and thus i justified the breath
that damned my soul to spare my bones

how close are death and doomed romance!
my heart still braying with alarm
i joined the devil in his dance
and fell into his waiting arms

misjudging charm for saving grace
my honor being rendered blind
the comfort of his firm embrace
besotted my deceptive mind

he played his devil's rhapsody
and swirled me through the endless night
i followed him most shamelessly
anticipating love's delight

when suddenly a voice that wept
more wretched than my heart could bear
cried out these words, "the while i slept
betrayed by two who pledged my care"

my dancing partner turned me round
to face the tower then to see
my angel plunge without a sound
into the phosphorescent sea

the bounty of my forteiture
did please the devil endlessly
and now i cleave forevermore
to him who came to dance with me

Poetry to Dream by

Dream Songs
Hotel Lobby
Hardly Know You
Night Beach
Tonight

Poetic Dreams

"To sleep, perchance to dream..." W. Shakespeare

Dream Songs

I listen closer and more, it seems,
to your lyrical dreams
than fortune’s tone deaf ears
would have me hear
if I bowed to the whims of chance.
My listening wears armor now,
scarred with stretch marks
strained against dissonance
while slavering wolves
howl their ineptitudes
clawing the breath out of niches
you carve with suffocating fingers
too wounded to dance
your crescendo dream songs.
Oh, how I love you for
gasping in graceful defiance,
each breath a sonata called life.
I would barehanded rip
the lungs from God
sooner than silence
the songs of your dreams.

hotel lobby

standing in a crowded hotel lobby
oblivious to mountainous vase
volcanic with tropical flowers
nearly touching my cheek
until you pass and press your palm
to the small of my back
whether to steady yourself
or keep from shoving me into the flowers
or tenderly intruding
i sense the world of you in passing
suddenly floral scents erupt
with my next breath i envision
man-made paradise
sculptures and fountains and terraced gardens
where only beautiful things would happen
someone else's memory
floats around the lobby
engraved with details so real
i feel the cool hard
garden bench beneath my legs
a night chill slips its arm
around my shoulders
so tangible i smell the lawn
faded and gone in a heartbeat
so are you
leaving me wishing my thoughts
were as pure as yours
making wish lists of who
i would give my beauty to

Hardly Know You

The other afternoon
in an otherwise hot and summer day
when we were sharing
a lazy moment
on that old wooden porch
I couldn’t help but notice
you in profile.
Since I hardly know you
I refrained from asking at the time:
Is that your mother’s smile
you wear
so artfully sculpted?
Her womb was a master’s studio.
Forgive my eyes
for stealing a taste
of your chocolate skin
I read the proud ancestral poem
in your woven ebony crown
and while you spoke,
revealing a measure of music
in your soul,
a quiet chorus of shackled slaves
from the tribe of humans
whispered in the background
beneath the wind chimes,
giving thanks
for human kindness.

night beach

i come alone to the moonless sea
the sand as fine and white
as confectioner's sugar
molds to my intimate feet
alive with kinetic sensation
i spill my solitude to a silver gull
who disappears to write
our secret into empty sky.

tonight

carry me tonight
lift me to olympus
let me cling as though
i do not know
my legs will ever hold me
now i’m trembling
like a leaf with wanderlust
your knowing laughter
shattered my defenses
after yes escaped my lips
to questions no one
ever dared to ask
you pried me open
like an oyster sheel
showed a glowing pearl
in my reflection
i defy you now
to change me back to sand again
keep me here
pressed against you
closer than my flaming flesh
show me how to savor
writhing ache of this much wanting
i am raw with you
there is less than air between us
when i breathe
your chest expands and exhales
keep me here tonight
cocooned in velvet mystery
i’m frightened like a secret
carved on grotto walls
a foreign language you speak fluently
you raided me
you read me
you exposed me
now i hunger with disclosure
keep me safe tonight
in this hidden place
my master lover pirate
i am newfound treasure
spend me
you must know you have me
dancing on a symphony
of pulsing veins and racing heartbeats
knowing this could end the moment
you release me
i already agonize with missing you
just take me with you
out of this night
set me gently into dawn

© 1999 Anastasia McFadyen
All Rights Reserved

Stazja McFadyen lives in Austin, Texas with her hard working husband Cody, musician son Mikey and best dog in the world Chelsea. She publishes "Map of Austin Poetry" weekly e-newsletter, archived at http://www.hyperweb.com/aipf . She hosts weekly poetry readings at Quackenbush's Coffee House, and is the founder and host of "East Side Black & White Poets" at Ebony Sun Java House. Voted Poetry Super Highway's "1998 Favorite Featured Poet", her poetry can be seen on various poetry web pages published from Austin to Australia. She has two published collections of poems: If You Can't Eat 'em, Join 'em and Dream Songs. She is on the board of Austin Poets International, Inc., serves as corresponding secretary of Austin Poetry Society, and is Austin Downtown Arts poetry editor.

Contact the poet at stazja@aol.com