Weekly Scribblings -- The Dance

Why The Dance for Me

Why was I here, "dancing the night away?" 

Had I delusions dancer King or Queen 

Or did I enjoy it as indoor sport 

In college I loved my dancing classes 

Met classmates I would have never before 

I learned the old and the newest there be 

From the Waltz through Cha Cha to the Breakdance 

But not a soul I met in those lessons 

Have I seen in years 

After that I would try  local dances 

Going there people to meet mostly girls 

Out of town to the west that was the best 

Going south fine as well more elegant 

My roommate had made friends with a lady 

Lived across the hall--gladly bought us booze 

Drive down to Kansas legal age eighteen 

But not a soul I met at those dances 

Have I seen in years

Now when we're on à cruise lessons we'll take 

Take them before the dances to review 

Or at weddings where  we take the dance floor 

Misses brushes me up on the two step 

With her and the bride I hope I will dance 

And maybe then a few more if they ask 

But not a soul I met at the wedding  

Have I seen in years 

 .. . [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlTKhPkZSJo]

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 -  Photo taken by me  on our ship while cruising in 2013 someplace in the Black Sea.  The dancers had boarded while we were stopped a couple of days in Istanbul. http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2013/10/a-random-five-post-020-venice-to-athens.html

 - YouTube previously used on my "Party Girl" poem 2016 post, https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/2016/03/party-girl-challenge-poem-for-flash-55.html?m=1

 - I am linked to Weekly Scribblings #62 for Magaly Guerrero's prompt word, "Dance", at https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/03/weekly-scribblings-62-shut-up-and-dance.html?m=1

 

Weekly Scribblings prose poem -- Loving Three

He "be an uncrushed flower"

A regular guy and Mother likes him.  He meets her order, she'll have kids like him.  A breeder, she calls him "Joe" 

We "burst into constellations of dance"

Way too young for most, a boy toy so nice fulfilled her every whim.  She taught him every loving move he makes. Now he's starting to make his own. Another keeper, stays with her.  She calls him "Jimmy Boy, the Butler here" 

"Love can be a monster, or not"

Her third choice truly loves her, experienced in all ways.  Taught her much.   Ravishing her over and over.  A monster with teeth of Jell-O and bubble gum mix, perfect for the tasty nibbles he takes.  She gurgles with delight and calls him "Igor".  Imagine to your wildest extent, Igor would be there

 _ _ _ 

Liked them all   

Fulfilling her needs and desires 

She's keeping all three

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem and Photo Copyright , Jimmiehov 2921, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked with Rommy at the Writer's Pantry #58, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/02/writers-pantry-58-is-it-spring-yet.html 

and

 - I'm linked with Magaly Guerrero at Weekly Scribblings #57, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/02/weekly-scribblings-57-let-us-write.html?m=1  

 - Magaly has written three nice poems linked by my  titles and wishes for us to use one or more of her titles for our writing.  I used all three as openings for my three paragraphs here. 

 - The pictured two inch small wooden dolls are a part of a toy village that our younger daughter had when little.  They are about 40 years old.

(And if she soured shed them one by one??)

Sunday Muse Story --- The Dance

 

Look'n Back; to see if ... 

The music was playing, a bouncy tune that we all knew.  But I was alone sitting in a chair against the wall.  Most had emptied their chairs and were paired up on the dance floor.

Couples all, jumping, swirling, twirling and bowing.  Boys with girls, girls with girls, a few boys with boys, and a few girls had picked boys.  But I was alone sitting in my chair. 

Good time for me to hit the ladies room, and let tears fall on my sleeve.  As I neared the door I passed a booth with one fellow sitting there alone.  He was sipping his drink, it looked like a Coke, and stirring it with the straw. 

As I was passing by I looked down to look him over, and then he looked up.  I think I slightly smiled and deliberately slowed my pace.   Nothing transpired and the door was near.  

One last glance back to the booth.  To my surprise the guy was up and fast walking my way.   Then I felt a touch on my shoulder and I stopped. 

As I turned, he said to me, "It would be a shame if this neat song went to waste for us.  May I have this dance with you?"

The rest is our history.  Only my diary knows all my secrets.

 _ _ _ 

 - My youngest grandaughter, age eleven, composed and choreographed a dance routine similar to this story, including the backwards look near her end.  Hers had the pair meeting, then dancing and bowing until the near separation.  I have forgotten the tune she used, playing it from her iPhone.  KUDOs to her.   

 - Story Copyright, Jimmiehov 2021, All Rights Reserved 

 - I'm linked with Fireblossom for this week's picture prompt, The Sunday Muse # 143,  http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2021/01/sunday-muse-143.html?m=1 

 ÷ The photo is of Tracey Powers as Mary Pickford 

 

Up and Down ~~ a Poem of Fire for The Sunday Muse

 

   Image: Brooke Shaden 

The Night 

We're setting the night on fire 

You sing we'll get a lot higher 

To the left rise above the smoke 

Smoke ruins brain cells of the dolts  

Higher and higher, light the night 

Come with me and we'll make the light  

Feed the birds we'll soar with sparrows  

We'll not come down till the morrow 

Burn burn burn we cuddle and play   

Sing and dance burn the night away 

Drive down main street cruise with the fold 

There'll come a day when we're to old 

When we come down don't hit the ground 

In to the day glide together 

_ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 

 - Photo Image by Brooke Shaden used as inspirational prompt was suggested by Fireblossom at The Sunday Muse # 126, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/09/sunday-muse-126.html?m=1 

 - After seeing the picture I immediately thought of Jim Morrison of The Doors song, "Light My Fire" (https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/doors/lightmyfire.html) and of Johnny Cash with "The Ring of Fire." (https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/johnnycash/ringoffire.html ) 

 - P,S,  I am too old for this now, I can only reminisce 

Day 8 of NaplPoWriMo 2020 - a Poem - Days Past

     [Adi's - our Beagle dog, RIP - last Teddy Bear] 

 

      Like it Was 
I. 

"Like the radios, the songs, the poems and the stars" 
Radios broadcast all our ilk
Play a song tell the news
But then there's a commercial 
And to beat it all Gossip Day
That's when the ilk comes out

Girls swing high boys they come to play
And spilled milk makes one pout

II. 
"Like the radios, the songs, the poems and the stars" 
The songs were great Rock had begun
There's Elvis and the Beatles 
Bands and singers Favorites and new tunes 
Dare we dance under park trees
Like it was park your bike find your date 

Listen to the songs, all was free 
Music filled the parks, ZZ Top down at the lake 

III. 
"Like the radios, the songs, the poems and the stars" 
Sing along clap our hands stomp our feet 
Gather in bunches chat rooms on the grass 
Darkness wins, time for the poems 
To the coffee houses we poured 
Recite our latest work or read from Poe 

Sitting around the rooms elbows merge
Bottles out around the room wine would flow 

IV. 
"Like the radios, the songs, the poems and the stars" 
Like all things they must come to end 
Empties to the corner, time for stars 
Fill the terraces, balconies call 
Houston's loading docks by dozens emptied for us 
Drugs were few save them for NYC *

Yes don't forget mosquito spray 
That's the way it was 1970 

* Notes:  
 - A part of the final line of my mother's lecture on my smoking the Canibus tops which grew up wild on our farm.  "... besides the good stuff is smoked in New York City."  I have never smoked that particular weed or "the good stuff."  Not exactly sure why that didn't happen. 
 - Some of this I did.  You might know or imagine how much.
 _ _ _ _ 

 - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved 
 - I am linked with Kerry O'Connor in the Imaginary Garden  at   https://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2020/04/april-2020-days-6-10.html?m=1 .  
 - Go there where other's Poetry Writings are linked.  If we follow Kerry's daily oldie picks there's a schedule.  
 - For today it was here with Sanaa Rizvi  at https://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/04/poems-in-april-l-arora.html?m=1 where she introduced a new form. 
 - "The A L' Arora, a form created by Laura Lamarca consists of eight lined stanzas. The rhyme scheme is a, b, c, d, e, f, g, f with no syllable count per line and the minimum length for the poem is 4 stanzas with no maximum length stipulation."

 - I am also linked to NaPoWriMo Day 8 at http://www.napowrimo.net/day-eight-7/ where their prompt was to use a line from another's work as the beginning line ours took off from there.
 - My line, "Like the radios, the songs, the poems and the stars" is from a poem by Lisa Jarnot's work which she also copied her first line from a poem by Frank Lima, "And how terrific it is to write a radio poem"

(BY LISA JARNOT )
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/51833/poem-beginning-with-a-line-by-frank-lima

 - Please comment how I have done, merging the two keeping a theme,  writing it consumed a little more than a short time.  So said I'm going back AFTER posting to correct typos and fix any wrong tense verbs.

A Love Poem, of Sorts

My Lily Pad Queen 

She sat on the leaf, my Lily Pad Queen 
It was one of two leaves in the pond

Hers always, when wearing Irish Green

Other remained back saved for her friend 

Waiting for me, her Lily Pad Prince 
She knows me not though I know her well

Holding tight to her perch afraid to dance

Looking around would I ring her bell 

Green eyes passed me over, then they teared 
Deep I dived, I'll stay a hundred years

..

  

_ _ _ _

 - Poem and Photos Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020, All Rights Reserved.  The SECOND Photo of the Yellow Flowering Lily Pad, the poet's watery tomb, I took at Regent's Park in London.  The other three are Print Screen and slightly edited from the respective three links below.  

 - I'm linked with Shay, Chrissa, and Carrie, at the Sunday  Muse for celebration of their 100th week posting anniversary, http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/2020/03/the-big-100th-muse.html?m=1  (BOTTOM Photo)

 - I'm linked with Margaret at her startup Web site, Artistic Interpretations s2, https://postcardartisticinterpretations.blogspot.com/2020/03/welcome-to-artistic-interpretations.html?m=1 (TOP Photo)

 - I am linked with Teemakuun #56, another artistic interpretation group from Finlan  at https://teemakuunkollaasi.blogspot.com/2020/03/teemakuu-56-kuva-mallina.html?m=1  (THIRD Photo)

100 Weeks of Sunday Muse

 - . - I'm 

Word List, two Senyru Poems

No Folderal

Easy bric-a-brac
Instantaneous deco
Green comes on a board
_ _ _

Photo-op

Hokey-pokey dance
While eating his white blancmange
Her lucid moment
 _ _ _

 - Poems Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved
 - I'm'm linked with Kerry O'Connor in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/06/get-listed-with-fireblossom.html?m=1
 - Use three words, extra  credit for using one in the title.

Here is your word list, Toads. Get hopping ;-)

folderol
bric-a-brac
instantaneous
momentary
lucid
derring-do
pontificate
green
smug
photo-op
slipshod
hokey pokey
fist pump
demure
lollipop
snooker
rendering
blancmange
smidgen
operatic

A Tuesday Senryu Tanka Poem

Oscar a rabbit

Went to the queen's dinner dance

Missed the queen so sad

Queen too was sad when she heard

Said come back--both happy now

_ _ _

- Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved
- I'm linked with Anmol (Ha) in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/06/the-tuesday-platform-dance.html?m=1
 - Sequell. This is an abrieviated version of a "homework" story I wrote in play school for my teacher, granddaughter KP.  In my story the queen and the rabbit became friends, both lived happily ever after.

Getting Things Right, a Poem for Tuesday

A Man's Heart; 
dancing with wallflowers

The train pulled in I was ready to go
But I didn't get on, wait for the next

This one makes smoke on the tracks I won't ride
Belching black smoke makes for a dismal night

Another came and went, an all-nighter 
Not into that I was saving myself   

Next one appeared with accolades galore 
Bright red cab yellow stripes and open toes

Clean Air Special electric rail for me
Flip her switch she glows, oyster stew tonight



 _ _ _ _

 - Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2016 and 2019,  All Rights Reserved
 - I'm linked with Anmol aka HA in the Imaginary Garden at  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/02/the-tuesday-platform-in-these-times-of.html?m=1

 - In an earlier life dancing was a fine activity for young people, and also providing a place for  young people to meet.  There were several Dance Halls around Lincoln, Nebraska, sort of like the old west.  Saturday nights were big, Fridays somewhat.  Some had a special weeknight to be open as well.
 - If one went unescorted or stag or only a couple who came late and couldn't find a table, there would always be space to sit on benches around the room.  People sitting there were called "Wallflowers".  You might wish to google that, it was a 'broad' word with common usage. 
 - It also was a fine place to find and ask a perfect stranger (or an acquaintance) to dance.   Oh yes, don't forget running down to Kansas, rules were different down there.

A Challenge Poem ~~ Dancing

Sitting;
around the room

Sitting here at the dance

Like a church pew my bench

There's more around the room

Three dozen wallflowers 

 

Parked for the night perhaps

Or dance the night away

One never knows the score

Which? Dance or sit the more 

 

Watch the girls make their plays

Watch the tall dark fellow

Smoothly weave two by two

Slow dancing on their clouds

 

Now is my turn we twirl

So light on my feet here

He makes me feel afloat

Why sure, I'll sit with you 

_ _ _ _

 - Photos and Poem Copyright © 2013 and 2017 respectively Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 

 - I'm linked with  Susie Clevenger , at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Bits Of Inspiration,  http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/08/bits-of-inspiration-keep-dancing.html
 - Her theme was "Dancing"
 - Photos taken on our ship while cruising in 2013 someplace in the Black Sea.  The dancers had boarded while we were stopped a couple of days in Istanbul. http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2013/10/a-random-five-post-020-venice-to-athens.html
 - My favorite dance experience was in 2009 aboard the Queen Mary II dancing with a small Russian lady.  I've blogged of that here: http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2014/11/done-and-dance-for-josies-two-shoes.html

.

NaPoWriMo 2016, Day # 30 ~~ School Days [Poetizing the Maypole]

[please click on picture to make it a bit larger -- I am the boy in back]

Dance a Jig for Maypole Celebration

The teacher did her best, every year, come May first
Sunny or cold she'd have the kids out by the pole
The oldest boy played his role, shinnied up that pole
In his hands were clutched rolls of ribbon tightly wound

Hanging from his waist was a contraption complex
Envy of mechanical engineers they said
Teacher called it a spreader the kids all did laugh 
Farm kids knew only the manure spreader.  Not this

The 'big kid' hung the ribbons on the hooks
Hooks there on the teacher's neat contraption
Dangled them down to their ends, near the ground
Each kid scrambled get his favorite hue

On teachers command the boys and girls sang
They sang a jig which they'd already learned
So the dance would start, one goes to the right
Two goes to the left, three goes the right

And so on for a half turn they had gone
Then each would change direction turning left 
Another half turn and so on they would dance 
Dance until their ribbons were tightly 'twined

That's all this poor writer can remember
That was a long time ago.  Flash forward
In college days May pole dances were barred
'Communist inspired,' McCarthyism

Next I knew we were traveling Austria
Down the back roads every farm that we passed
Maypole standing tall.  One variation
Professional plaque, labour's alive, well 



“The Last of the Maypole Dancers”, by Ilsa Elford, (via link) 
Top Photo and Poem Copyright © 2010 and 2016 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

This is the last day of National Poetry Month.  My writing is linked to Magaly Guerrero's post, Poetizing the Maypole, at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.
Notes:
(1) In the top picture, my school picture for the fourth grade, I was the biggest boy.  Perhaps the teacher climbed the flag pole to hang our ribbons.  More likely that was done by one of the fathers.  My sister was in the first grade, the tiniest girl. The girl next to her and the other boy were our first cousins.
(2) For directions telling how to make your own Maypole dance, click here

One Single Impression: Insecure

.

Insecure

Shaky as could be,

curb walkers. People think they

have Saint Vitus Dance

- - - - - -

 

Photos and Poem Copyright

© 2012 Jimmiehov

All Rights Reserved 

.

Find more poems using ''Insecure" prompt word at One Single Impression.
Thanks to Nimue of Word-possessed lady who brings us this week's prompt, "insecure."

Saint Vitus Dance: a medical condition ( link )
.
Adi, our beagle dog, died September, 2012
KP, our grandchild, loves to walk this ledge