Tuesday, November 10, 2009

The Dancing Girl

This is a memory. I once had a woman dance for me in my living room in a full costume including a long flowing black-haired wig. What a gift. This moment was one of many that changed my life.

The Dancing Girl

You told me secrets
about dancing, it's costume
that makes it real,
that's what you said, then
you twirled your full skirts so high
I saw your full shape,
the shine of your shoes,
and the grace notes in my heart
all from the rhythmic
swirl of your sweet world.

February 25, 2009 7:40 PM


  1. No, not for me. It's heart that makes it real. And the smile. Just so....


  2. Linda, yes.

    Michelle, the heart thing had to be there for the rest to happen. She worked a magic. They say magic cannot happen unless you believe, but I say that's not quite right. We say falling in love. We also say one falls for a thing. This is a heart action. I fell for the dancer. I fell for the offer. I fell for the promise. I fell for the girl. This is a movement.

    It is also an expression of the duality involved when an artist, actor, musician creates a fan who falls in love. I would not have fallen for the dance had she not been the dancer. I might not have fallen for the dancer had the dance been awkward. And it is true. Even as the dancer fell for me as well, why she danced for me, she retained the power to step away later and I did not have that power. I believe that imbalance is what you may object to, Michelle.

    But it is the way of the world. That imbalance is nearly always present, is it not? One of the lovers will nearly always retain the power to violate the affair somehow. The other will cry, "Unfair!"

  3. I love the "grace notes" bit... aptly named in so many ways. Sometimes it's little moments like this which become the centerpiece of an entire day, I think.

  4. On our block all of the guys call her flamingo
    Cause her hair glows like the sun
    And her eyes can light the sky
    When she moves she walks so fine like a flamingo
    Crimson dress that clings so tight
    She's out of reach and out of sight
    When she walks by she brightens up the neighborhood
    Oh every guy would make her his if he just could
    If she just would
    Some sweet day I'll make her mine pretty flamingo
    Then every guy will envy me
    Cause paradise is where I'll be
    Pretty flamingo pretty flamingo
    When she walks by she brightens up the neighborhood
    Oh every guy would make her his if he just could
    If she just would

    Pretty Flamingo
    Lyrics by Mark Barkan

  5. Yes, Ghost. It was amazing that I had this woman in my life just like that, only older. It worked very well for me despite the complications because she was amazing the way she rested in my heart. The drawback, it was only good for two years and then she left. I knew it would be like that. There is no fault and no one to blame.

    Thank you, Joseph. I remember being pleased with that line of grace notes myself, went ooooooh. I can't do that you know. I am just not that good. But there you are. Every real poem is a collaboration.

    Yes Rachel, what a gift, and precisely why behind every good man is at least one good woman. I hope it works the other way as well.

  6. Yes, I guess so Christopher. And there is birthed insecurity.



  7. Michelle, sometimes denial arises to good purpose. I would have wished for a world transformed in which my lover could meet me as an equal, that the result would have been invincible love that triumphed over all the real obstacles to our love. That was impossible. In denial, I could do this, love this woman.

    She couldn't be alone. When she left, she left me for another, a lover timed so he could appear in her life where we were hidden, but also he was a brighter, shinier thing with more distance built in as well, coming from the Seattle area with her down here in Portland. She could have more control, more reason to refrain from visiting as well as the way to visit. He an artist already established with a public and me the unsung hero, the poet without a public.

    For me one unsuccessful love affair. For her, two in succession, and the second much worse because she fell for even less possibility along with the shinier surface. In a way she was in a descent and still descending as she left me.

    I knew we were impossible at the start and then applied denial so that I could maintain my end of the affair in hope of success. What that did, in the end, I was able to enter the affair successfully and also leave it that way, that now I am neither bitter nor burdened with a false view of what happened nor of who she was and has been for me and as well who she is in the world.

    For her, a longer path but I believe also with a later turn around so that she is in a better place today, perhaps. She seemed to be when last I had a glimpse.

    I would do it again in a heart beat. What I mean is, knowing what I know now of who I was and what we both needed then, I still give my past self full permission now to give me that past, that experience of love. She may not have that same willingness, but I think she still has a fondness for me. However, I honestly don't think she could have done better than she did.

  8. A private dance...more intimate than sex. Love to dance. Love to watch. Lacking the courage to request an audience. Wish I could...for him.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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