poemranker ::A Time to Dance by Dovina

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Free verse № 144754

A Time to Dance

by Dovina

Member since 2004 · Posted 24 Jul 2006 · 17 comments

Daddy, I have need of you You should be living in this hour The world’s a fen of Selfishness, technology and theft We’ve forfeited your gentle care Last night I dreamed of you Closed-eyed in another’s arms He spun me, held me, smiled at me And told me I was fine You never danced me—wasn’t right But many years have passed And in your arms last night I followed, transferred back Swung to a better past I thought you’d like to know That in that final hour When you told me, “Blessed Jesus, I’m tired; let me go,” That another’s come He’s just like you But not you, not the same And as he swung me, held me Closed eyes thought of you And thought you would approve

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17 comments

[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 24-Jul-06/4:21 PM Reply
How Freudian is this? I tend to be more into the solo street styles -- popping, locking, liquiding, liquid-popping, parping, boogaloo, and boogaloo 2. The babes all watch, but they aint got the moves to keep up. Guess that's why I've been such a lone ranger all these years... hustlin' the southside crews for $$$ and throwing some serious funk-shapes in the big leagues. If you want respect, you've got to take it. -no vote-
[n/a] Dovina › -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 24-Jul-06/5:36 PM Reply
Come on over and extend your left hand. I'll show you what I've got.
[n/a] Stephen Robins › Dovina 25-Jul-06/3:34 AM Reply
slag
[n/a] Stephen Robins › Dovina 25-Jul-06/4:23 AM Reply
I have just read through all of our correspondence to try and identify when it exactly was that you stopped loving me and your love turned to pain at being spurned. This pain then turned to a festering wounded hanky of bitterness and recently outright hostility. I am sorry Dovina I would have loved to have started something but I don't date "differently-abled" Americans.
[n/a] Dovina › Stephen Robins 25-Jul-06/9:06 AM Reply
It all began with your severely contorted logic, reflected even after my many admonitions. For example, how could I have stopped loving you and turned to pain over being spurned, both at the same time? Have you even learned the basic skill of addition? Aside from the improbability of receiving love in your present sagging, slobbering condition, your utter lack of reason is appalling.
[n/a] Stephen Robins › Dovina 25-Jul-06/9:18 AM Reply
I love it when you get all wordy. I bet you always came near the top of class in grammar lessons. I was too busy fisting the dinner ladies for seconds, to care much for strucuture. However, there was a time, I'm sure of it, when we really bonded on a spiritual level, before you went through that change that most women encounter at a certain age:

Dovina + Menopause = frustrated, redundant womb with habit of babbling in self possessed manner

See; I can add.
[n/a] Dovina › Stephen Robins 25-Jul-06/9:28 AM Reply
I know you love me and my words. It’s a frustration, yes, to be admired by such a wide cross section of the populace. However my affections turn naturally to men who are better at addition. You see, Dovina + Menopause, when that occurs, and it will, will only mean a reduced need for birth control, not an utter lack productive activity, as it surly is already in one so ancient and limp.
[10] ALChemy › -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 24-Jul-06/9:09 PM Reply
LOL.
You've never sounded older.
[n/a] Dovina › -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 26-Jul-06/3:47 PM Reply
You’ve read the scientific things, of light and math and such. But there’s something deep within that won’t be satisfied without boogaloo and popping, heartfelt moves to emotional tunes. Again, extend your hand, Angel; the dance floor’s smooth.
[10] ALChemy 24-Jul-06/9:13 PM Reply
WOW. I getting to see into a part of women I've never seen before and it's located nowhere near the vagina.

Not enough info for most others to see this the way the lucky few of us will but for those few it's quite insightful.
[n/a] Dovina › ALChemy 25-Jul-06/9:12 AM Reply
Yes, it’s located near the big toe of the right foot, a pointed pump, poised and ready. But thanks for considering that it might be a more tender part.
[9] Ranger 24-Jul-06/11:03 PM Reply
Powerful, in a peacefully reflective way. Have you put this to music yet? If you have/are planning to, it could do with a chorus - but I can almost hear it played to the tune of a slow violin, a quiet guitar and a log fire across the room. That's the best combination.

One thing I'd have changed is 'Selfishness'. It's not a word I'm hugely fond of; would have used 'certainties' or 'guarantees' instead (to go along with the technology - very engineered, robotic, soulless.

Other than that, I really enjoyed this :-)
[n/a] Dovina › Ranger 25-Jul-06/12:21 PM Reply
It would be nice to set a poem about dancing to music – something you could dance to. Hadn’t thought of that. The word “selfishness” may not be right; it’s a feeling of “everybody for themselves” that is so unlike my father’s attitude, and the thing I’ve come to miss. It’s so unlike dancing, where unless two people cooperate, you have chaos. I’ll search for a better word. Thanks for the ideas.
[9] amanda_dcosta 25-Jul-06/7:14 AM Reply
Your preaentation of the poem is cool. I like the comparisons and the theme, and also the third verse.
[7] ecargo 25-Jul-06/10:25 AM Reply
Not bad. I think the second verse is stronger as a beginning if you could work in the "daddy" bit elsewhere (title or otherwise). Also, and probably because it makes me think of Roethke's "My Papa's Waltz," I wish the rhythm was more, er, rhythmic, to suggest the dance. Here's how Roethke does it (mostly because I adore Theodore Roethke and will take any chance to quote him). In his version, it's all about rhythm, suggesting the waltz, and his choice of detail:

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

[n/a] Dovina › ecargo 25-Jul-06/12:22 PM Reply
I see how the second verse could make a better beginning. Will consider that. I’d also like a waltz-like rhythm, even fox-trot, but doubt if I can do that. Thanks.
[1] deleted user 29-Jul-06/11:30 AM Reply
This has the potential to be an incredibly good write. It just wasn't, though. I see below comments that you're trying to explain the poem; if you need to do that that's when you really know that it was a bad write. Maybe stick to writing about things more personal and therefore more readable. Poetry is supposed to be FELT ... yet I felt nothing when I read this.