And I dance

And I dance
My feet stamping
Raise the dust of ancient civilizations
Of elongated heads
And bodies decorated for war
And love and beauty
The god with the elephant head
Dances divinely
In my clattering ventricles
And life begins with a dollar bill
And a ball
My tongue is as razor sharp
As a surgeons knife
And the grease hanging heavy
In the chattering air
Is my mathematical proof
The molecules of friendship
Are my art
To the godhead within.
Civilizations are born and die
You can see them in the mote in my eye.

Qimissung
January 2011

Among other reasons for appreciating this is the fact that it's such a rambunctious poem! Brava!

It makes me want to dance wherever I am and under whatever circumstances! It's a more detail version of 'dance like nobody is watching' and much better too.

Thank you, Prince, and Delta! I was going for a celebratory mood. :)

Quimissung, you cover a lot of ground in this, historically and metaphorically.

It is a testament to dance and what binds us all together. I love the rhythm.

It has just given me energy for the whole day, qim!
I can see you as you dance! your movement stirring old times' best, your stamping feet force a new era in, make tangible the renewal...
You haven't posted for a long while, what a pleasure to read you again. Best regards, Bar

Thank you, firefangled and Bar. I was sort of going for those things, fire. This poem is a testament to some, um, people, that I work with. I use the word "work" loosely as they use every means available to get out of doing it. But they are good at something, and that is living in the moment, and even though I'm going back tomorrow and tomorrow to try to convince them otherwise, privately I wanted to take a moment to commend them for this. Who am I, after all to tell them that their chosen way of life isn't good enough? It is for them.

And I do believe that everything in them is possible in me, and that everything in me is possible in them, and from that belief, this poem was born.

I can't dance, and I'm not that much fun, Bar, but thanks for thinking that I am. :D

By the way, anyone who would like to learn to dance can do so here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PfDVnX4j3-w

And my "friends" personified, here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehu3wy4WkHs

Reading this at first put me in mind of some primitive 'rain dance' as performed by a shaman - then taking account of the wealth of mythological references there's so much else that can be read into it. Good fun but also giving pause for thought between the drum beats.

H

glad to see your post here. really love the rhythm.

Very robust opening, the dance is almost bigger than life!

http://temporecord.files.wordpress.c...08/ganesha.gif

"and elephant's eyes smile
mountain cherry blossoms"

Quote:

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Originally Posted by qimissung

I can't dance, and I'm not that much fun, Bar, but thanks for thinking that I am. :D

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"If you can talk, you can sing. If you can walk, you can dance." —African proverb

I shall sing, firefangled!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OoktzdzCwMg

What a beautiful saying. Thank you. :)

Thank you Yuka, Haunted, and Hill!

Weltanschuung, I am speechless. That is exactly what I was writing about! Thank you for this radiant addition to my humble writing!

Ganesha is, somewhat ironically, the Lord of learning and letters. But dancers and musicians often begin performances of the arts with a prayer to him (Wikipedia) (also, my apologies to anyone who is Hindu if I got anything wrong in my interpretation).

And this makes me think of my friends on lit-net. :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlfKdbWwruY

The dance of a teacher!
The last two lines say it all; contemplating how many seeds of success “civilizations” you have planted.
Very nice.

Thank you, Gilliatt!

I really meant, that the narrator, whoever he is, is a worthwhile person, even if he's someone from a different class or race than ourselves, someone that we perhaps conveniently ignore, huddled in the comfort of our daily routines.

An intriguing poem that starts in medias res, linking us with our ancestors through a form of art, and takes a left turn with the introduction of money, which seems to mark the start of 'civilisation', science, maths; all of which are reduced to the insignificance of being a 'mote in my eye' of the poem's narrator. Strange stuff, and still not sure I get it after a few reads.

The pace and rhythm of the poem are a bit staccato given the subject, due to the lack of punctuation in the first two-thirds. Still, an interesting poem.

Sorry to have neglected this poem qim, I've been away, but I thoroughly enjoyed it's rhythm and imagery. Very nicely done.

Best, H

Thank you, Hawkman.

Sorry about the delay in responding to this one. I must've missed it on its first go-around.

Some of the images are intriguing, such as this one:

And life begins with a dollar bill
And a ball
It looks good and sounds good, especially the consonance of the double "l"s, but I haven't the foggiest idea of what it means.

Same with this metaphor:

And the grease hanging heavy
In the chattering air
Is my mathematical proof;

in which I don't know what kind of grease it is or where it comes from, but the word "mathematical" tells me that the speaker is setting up a quantitative, as opposed to a qualitative, relationship with the next metaphor, inexplicably separated by a semi-colon:

but again, the
The molecules of friendship
are my art

It pairs up the previous mention of mathematics with science ("molecules") while linking both with "art," the art of the dance, readers can assume.

The rhyme scheme is a bit inconsistent, but that may be intentional, as some consecutive lines have end rhymes, while some don't. There is internal rhyme -- "clattering" and "chattering."

I can't figure out the punctuation and capitalization. There isn't a period at the end of any of the lines, but each successive line starts with a capital letter. That may be part of the scheme of the piece as well. Still, the noun in the second part of this simile is a possessive, thus requiring an apostrophe.

My other objection/criticism/ question is the preponderence of conjunctions, especially the "and" that begins the piece. Usually the word "and" means that it is following a word, clause, or sentence that has gone before. Then again, it could be part of the scheme, to set up a circular pattern, with no beginning or no end.

So this posting gives me pause, as well as things to think about and reconsider.

Well, AuntShecky, polysyndeton: the repetition of conjunctions in a series of coordinate words, phrases, or clauses. So hopefully that explains all the "ands."

I did use metaphors from a variety of sources, and this is intentional in the sense that I try, like most people who write I expect, to find metaphors that are fresh and "live." They are metaphors and are meant to convey the ideas behind them, so they are not relational in that sense. They need to be effective in conveying my ideas. I found them effective, so I used them.

"a dollar bill and a ball"-that is all this person needs. Life begins with this.

"And the grease hanging heavy
In the chattering air
Is my mathematical proof;"

In mathematics, a proof is a convincing demonstration that some mathematical statement is necessarily true. This poem was inspired by some people I know who indicated that a job at McDonald's was just fine. Just fine now, and just fine at any time in their lives. I wasn't arguing the point, but I know they thought I was saying that a job at McDonald's wasn't good enough. So the proof, then, is that having a job, in their opinion, is proof of manhood (or adulthood, but these were guys I was talking too, so that was my initial idea).

These people are very social. I cannot emphasize that enough. They live in the moment and as long as they have enough, they are happy. Their relationships are very important to them, hence the "molecules of friendship are my art." I was paying tribute to that idea. There is the idea of art as a painting or dance or literature, but I am saying here that their relationships with family members, their friendships are their art. Thus the clattering and chattering. They like noise and are uncomfortable with silence and introspection, and I was trying to convey the idea of noise and activity.

And yes, I did intend for this to circle back to the beginning. "The dust of ancient civilizations" is intended to link with the last line of the dust mote in my eye. Everything good in civilization is there within them. They may not be ambitious or learned in a conventional sense, but they know how to live and love. And that is indeed enough and worth celebrating.

I hope that helps explain things. Aunty. Thanks for reading it.

You're absolutely right about polysyndeton, but we don't normally see a conjunction as the very first word in a piece.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by AuntShecky

You're absolutely right about polysyndeton, but we don't normally see a conjunction as the very first word in a piece.

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I infer that you're disconcerted by the medias res opening of the poem, but I think it is very apropos and is further justified by the succession of conjunctions, the implication being that all of this has been going on for a very long time, indeed for as far back as the poet's memory reaches.

Hinduism is my religion of choice as knowing not a bloody thing about it, it is the only one that makes me feel like smiling