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A Time to Dance (Free verse) by Dovina Daddy, I have need of you
You should be living in this hour
The worldâs a fen of
Selfishness, technology and theft
Weâve forfeited your gentle care
Last night I dreamed of you
Closed-eyed in anotherâs arms
He spun me, held me, smiled at me
And told me I was fine
You never danced meâwasnât right
But many years have passed
And in your arms last night
I followed, transferred back
Swung to a better past
I thought youâd like to know
That in that final hour
When you told me, âBlessed Jesus,
Iâm tired; let me go,â
That anotherâs come
Heâs 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
Up the ladder:
Need For Speed
Down the ladder:
new amsterdam
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 6.0
Posted: July 24, 2006 3:16 PM PDT; Last modified: July 24, 2006 3:16 PM PDTWeighted score: 5.2689414 Overall Rank: 3910 Comments:
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.
Yes, itâs 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.
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 :-)
It would be nice to set a poem about dancing to music â something you could dance to. Hadnât thought of that. The word âselfishnessâ may not be right; itâs a feeling of âeverybody for themselvesâ that is so unlike my fatherâs attitude, and the thing Iâve come to miss. Itâs so unlike dancing, where unless two people cooperate, you have chaos. Iâll search for a better word. Thanks for the ideas.
Your preaentation of the poem is cool. I like the comparisons and the theme, and also the third verse.
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.
I see how the second verse could make a better beginning. Will consider that. Iâd also like a waltz-like rhythm, even fox-trot, but doubt if I can do that. Thanks.
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.
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Dovina + Menopause = frustrated, redundant womb with habit of babbling in self possessed manner
See; I can add.
You've never sounded older.