Armies of Dancers
I am thinking about armies.
Armies of dancers.
Squadrons, platoons, units, companies of dancers.
And whenever fighting breaks out, they move.
By sea, by air, overland-they get there fast.
And they dance onto the battlefields & into the bunkers & at headquarters,
and the amazing thing is that the movement is so honest & compelling
that the soldiers with guns begin to sing, making music for the dance.
Thousands of dancers
surrounded by thousands of singers with guns,
shooting bullets high into the air making rhythm for the dance.
And the motion & the sound tell a story of how to plant the weapons & grow food.
How bullets become wildflowers, & rifles grow corn or potatoes or rice.
Fields of landmines become forests.
And stealth bombers turn into oases with cool water & birdsong & shade.
I want to see this happen.
I think I am going to need a lot of help.
—- author unknown
Please add your poetry!
If wars were fought by poets
If wars were fought by poets, the Pentagon would pay five thousand dollars for alliterations in iambic pentameter
If wars were fought by poets, there would be serious statues guarding the gates of Whitman Square Park; Shakespeare would be the fifty-dollar bill.
… there would be a sonnet in every basement.
If wars were fought by poets, every child would learn 4 R’s – readin’, writin’, rhymin’, and ‘rithmetic
If wars were fought by poets, crimson splashed canvas would remind us of birth.
… library cards would be mandatory.
If wars were fought by poets, there would be fewer man-boys torn and bleeding, lyingcryingdying cold faraway, where their loversmothersbrothers can never say goodbye.
If wars were fought by poets, the only borders would be our minds.
If wars were fought by poets, I would be a soldier.
This list has been forming for the past day or two in my head, and on paper. It comes from re, meaning again. Again in the the form that I/we can reinvent and reclaim the past. I am doing that. I am that. This list is a reassurance. These words are in all of my sentences, and I am relieved for that. re re re re…..
Top Re’s, the repeats:
Readjust, Reassure, Rebel, Receive, Reclaim, Recognize, Reenact, Reinvent, Relationship, Remodel, Remove, Repeat, Repress, Reserve, Resign, Resort, Respond, Restore, Restrict, Retort, Retrieve, Reunion, Revel, Review, Rework
React
Reaction
Readjust
Readjust
Real
Realign
Realign
Reap
Reassemble
Reassure
Reassure
Reassure
Rebalance
Rebate
Rebel
Rebel
Recall
Recap
Recede
Receipt
Receive
Receive
Recess
Reciprocate
Reciprocity
Recite
Reclaim
Reclaim
Recode
Recognize
Recognize
Recoil
Recollect
Recommend
Recondition
Reconnaissance
Reconnect
Reconvene
Recoup
Recreate
Recumbent
Redefine
Redial
Redo
Reenact
Reenact
Reflect
Reform
Refrain
Reframe
Refresh
Refuel
Rehash
Reheat
Reincarnate
Reinstate
Reinterpret
Reinvent
Reinvent
Rekindle
Relate
Relationship
Relationship
Release
Relief
Relive
Relocate
Reluctant
Remake
Remember
Remiss
Remodel
Remodel
Remorse
Remove
Remove
Remove
Renaissance
Rename
Renovate
Repack
Repeat
Repeat
Repent
Represent
Repress
Repress
Reprimand
Reprogram
Require
Resemble
Resent
Reserve
Reserve
Reside
Reside
Residence
Residual
Residue
Resign
Resign
Resolve
Resort
Resort
Resort
Respect
Respond
Respond
Rest
Rest
Restate
Restore
Restore
Restore
Restrict
Restrict
Resurface
Resurgence
Resurrect
Retire
Retort
Retort
Retort
Retrace
Retract
Retreat
Retribution
Retrieve
Retrieve
Retrograde
Return
Reunion
Reunion
Revalue
Revamp
Reveal
Revel
Revel
Revel
Revert
Review
Review
Revile
Revive
Revolution
Revolve
Reward
Rewind
Rewire
Rework
Rework
Our hearts went that way
to rest
to stillness
and to warmth
reassuring
your voice was in motion
the rhythms you mastered
soothing my tired body
carrying me as waves do
you said you couldn’t help yourself
you loved me
your love entered
mingled with my soul
settled in
waiting for the end
for peace
then came the flow of blood
ah yes
that’s when your words changed
your rhythms out of time with my own
you chose to hurt me
then left
there i was
alone
expected to cross my legs
keep my mouth shut
you called other women
brought them in
pushed down hard with your will
your eyes making contact
insistent that i remain quiet
saying take the pain
without complaining
saying to me it would be a disaster if our union bore fruit
i cried then
i cut my hair off
reaching
for the guides above me
inside of me
the mourning flowed
fell away
along with the shame
your touch went far
now touching myself doesn’t work
this is what was
my songs…..
with the muse
dancing together
telling our story with my voice
are you listening still?
i breathe in and i breathe out
i don’t know it
i don’t breathe in and i don’t breath out
i don’t know it
i now know it
standsalone
be a rock in God’s pocket
my sense of loneliness
his loneliness for me
isalone in solitude
not alone,
yet
standsalone
dancesalone
sleepsalone
twoalone for a time
God Alone
lovesalone
playsalone
God Alone
communion
beached hampton rocks
rubbed down
bleached by the sun
radiating the moon
sacramentsalone
whilealone
allalone works his ways
I just want to be a rock in God’s pocket
rda
5 Nov 2008
she shatters
glass shatters
shatters those eyes
breathing breaks
water falls
batters those eyes
still her stillness
still in all her steel
she assembles a phoenix
splashes into sand
wings remain
dove borne stillness
of words
of wings
of the wind
your subtle wayswords to wings…
3 Nov 2008
jim…digs in
flaunts the jim-jams
log-jam lover
300 year old cedar tree
maker of many masks
the killer whale is his favorite
plays her black and white recorder
lines everywhere
roof line
power line
lines on your face
she waves those powerful navy lips
enormous dangling hairlines
mooring
she tells a story
waxes away home…
and the waves
Pacific Northwest
coastline, where Bigfoot surfs
She’s big breasted,
the beast is mesmerized by her speech
about those eyes
the killer whale waits
for those who crumb the canopy of parachuting plankton
airborne
she rocks
juts out the jim-Jams
the treachery of feeling
of holding onto the log-jam
radio jams
band jams one more time
Silent is my silence
Is an olive with a pit
is a present from a peasant
is the excess that rots
is my service
grace is the Iranian insists
blind humility
25 Oct 2008
as it comes
slowly
solitude
meandering
winding its way through me…
my ever unwinding
feeling my way blindly
reeling from this upending sense
of needing to be quiet
of seeking to be silent
of wanting to be…
knowing that with You
as it comes
slowly
24 Mar 2008
39
wwhere did it all go
sleeping
waking
you and I
where does it all go
smell of Fall
oxidation of ferrous leaves
you and I
two trees praise pain
lush pomace love
ferrous speckled leaves
around our eyes
up and down our mouths
cheek to creek
shadows
intertwined hurting roots
where will it all go
you and I
forgetting sea
the grip begets silence
you and I
so great
so lush
so green
no more ferrous speckled eyes
leaves, looking into the sun
12/11/2008
rda
If wars were fought by poets
If wars were fought by poets, the Pentagon would pay five thousand dollars for alliterations in iambic pentameter
If wars were fought by poets, there would be serious statues guarding the gates of Whitman Square Park; Shakespeare would be the fifty-dollar bill.
… there would be a sonnet in every basement.
If wars were fought by poets, every child would learn 4 R’s – readin’, writin’, rhymin’, and ‘rithmetic
If wars were fought by poets, crimson splashed canvas would remind us of birth.
… library cards would be mandatory.
If wars were fought by poets, there would be fewer man-boys torn and bleeding, lyingcryingdying cold faraway, where their loversmothersbrothers can never say goodbye.
If wars were fought by poets, the only borders would be our minds.
If wars were fought by poets, I would be a soldier.