Poetry is Thought-Dancing.

It’s a freeform T-storm,

popping verbal thunder, and

locking limerick’d lightning bolts,

making the mind’s eye open wide,

sending provocative prose from the sky in multi-lettered jolts –

an ensemble effort, each word has electricity,

a hundred thousand volts in each syllable’s ability

to hit your brain’s mainframe precisely, with agility,

 

So much motion in poetry, especially considering-

-how words are really spells and can take you somewhere else,

to a time and space where you wouldn’t quite think;

these words are a transport to a leopard-print Jansport,

or skating fast around an empty hockey rink.

 

Poetry, to me, is ‘thought-dancing.’

Whether its a headspin, or ballerinas prancing.

A romantic word-tango,

a circus of high flying verses that make us nervous;

A ground-shaking, spoken-word haka,

or a line dance, chanted in unison.

 

It’s a movement class for the mind,

as we use our ideas to decorate space and time.

“May I have this thought-dance?” I ask in rhyme

to imagine with my words, and your thoughts, intertwined. -RSM

Dance Loud

(Written December 27, 2017)

Let loose. Move to the beat, or way off beat, who cares?

That’s the point.

Whether you’re on a crowded, douchy, $30 cover dance floor,

Or a 1 person army, taking your living room by siege, let it all out.

Dance big. Dance loud.

Be the wackiest person in sight if you have to.
Be the wackiest person in sight if you want to.

Drown out the music with amplified moves.

Make the ground shake.

Make heads spin, while making your head spin.

Be your body’s DJ. – RSM