May 31, 2020. DANCE

“Dancer” by Henri Syrjö

– – –

"Jazz Shoes" by Harrie Costello
Crisp white, delicate and mine 
The smell of what is now, old leather
The hang there, by a lace vine
Waiting to come untethered
 
Blueprints traced by the chalk on the sole,
For grip
I tightened the tapes but was interrupted by
A trip
That I took down memory lane
 
From an image evoked in the back of my mind I remembered that they were not always mine
They were loved before they knew mine
The toe was worn but to me it was fine
I was told that it was a sign
Of a dancer who danced in perfect time
Precision
That’s what it took
 
So off the hook
Did my Jazz shoes come
And with arms over head and hips thrust to the sun
A slight bend in the knee and round arch to the foot
I danced ‘til I bruised and blistered and cut
Every last inch
Of the skin on the souls
Of my feet
They were separate to me
 
One, Two, step through 
I found comfort here
In a memory from a past so near
Of a pal and pastime I held so dear
And in that moment, one piece of the future became clear
There is still love
For people,
For art,
For me,
For Dance.

– – –

“Strive” by Lorelei X

– – –

“Phantom of the Disco” by S.J. Saighead

Upon a night of merry glee,
when light and dark did embrace thee,
we spy a lad to whom the night
had left beyond the flashing light.
A starling perched upon a wire,
bared resemblance to this lone star.
A soul occupied beyond the gyre,
he was not there at all.
 
A bird or phantom, we do not know.
His soul or hand he did not show.
A fly upon the speckled walls,
a ghost on which eternity calls.
His soft face and short red hair,
a button down shirt, a body fair
unlike his face which scarred upon
the marks of despair.
 
He saw and was not seen
till later fish picked his body clean.

– – –

– – –

“Commemorations” by Luke Fallon

– – –

"Mother of Moons" by Linda M. Crate
you flirt with death
it is the only
dance i've seen you
partake in,
and i think it's because you
know she's your bride;
 
you've painted me
the villain and so i will
be the merciful monster
surrendering you to the arms
of your true love—
 
no longer shall you be
parted from your
bride when i am finished,
 
and she can have every
bone and every piece of sinew
left when i am through
i only want the blood;
 
you thought you could break me
of who i truly was—
 
but i refused to be your mask
empty and devoid of substance,
a woman child seen but never heard;
song bird who sings in the cage
because she doesn't remember the freedom
of flight when wind was beneath her wings
 
i am the wild and fierce valkyrie—
my wings will birth the arrival of new moons.

– – –

– – –

“Num Lock” by Null Replica

– – –

“Steps in the Smoke” by M.A.A.

It took absolutely no time to wonder,
but years to watch over this damned thunder,
Kányádi was the man to teach lessons back then,
to tell of great things, but not where to find them,
where is this hand of Prometheus, that forever calls,
being once refused, it thus forever rejects my cause.
 
I did not mind, as his words had no peace,
long-but-short years, and always in need,
here was the man to teach humility,
when one was being drowned in serenity,                 
but to break it all - that was the key,
that is a poet's mission in word and deed.
 
So I kept venturing through Kányádi's verses,
soon realizing it wasn't about lessons, but curses,
now, the words ripple as to teach someone to dance,
or to have a dialog with whores, but allow no advance,
embers in a fiery song of mistook tasks, of longing trance,
all good things, my friend, to steal from each other's hands.

– – –

“Dance” by Luke Farrell

– – –

"Dance" by Mikhaila Fitzpatrick
An expression to escape oppression.
A freedom of the face, the hands and the feet,
To music so sweet,
The beat of each bar and the swell of a climatic phrase,
The dance can wash away,
Feelings of the mind in the past, present and future,
To a dimension like no other,
A space in between, where the soul is completely free,
Is where the mind rests while the body feels,
And in that moment,
A dance is the only thing real.

– – –

NEXT WEEK’S THEME: (IN)JUSTICE

Submit at artisticdifferencesproject@gmail.com

More information under ‘Submissions’ above

Published by artisticdifferencescurator

My name is Seán and I am the creator and curator of the Artistic Differences Project. I started this project during the lockdown in Ireland due to COVID-19 in March 2020 as a way to get my friends and I creating during a troubling time. From there the project as gone from strength to strength and now we publish a new exhibition every two weeks.

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