The Travelling Bear
GRASS-BLADES push up between the cobblestones
And catch the sun on their flat sides
Shooting it back,
Gold and emerald,
Into the eyes of passers-by.
And over the cobblestones,
Square-footed and heavy,
Dances the trained bear.
The cobbles cut his feet,
And he has a ring in his nose
But still he dances,
For the keeper pricks him with a sharp stick,
Under his fur.
Now the crowd gapes and chuckles,
And boys and young women shuffle their feet in time to the dancing bear,
They see him wobbling
Against a dust of emerald and gold,
And they are greatly delighted.
The legs of the bear shake with fatigue
And his back aches,
And the shining grass-blades dazzle and confuse him.
But still he dances,
Because of the little, pointed stick.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Song
When I came here I came here
I just came here to find
That one little girl
That is hidden behind
That old mill that old mill
That old mill out back
She's in that field In that field
In that field out back
And she dances and dances
Without anything wrong
She just dances and dances
To that same old song
Behind closed doors
She can't feel that much joy
As tears and tears pour
As tears and tears pour
But as she dances
She dances with stars the above
She's small but she can reach out
That far into love
And when everything's wrong
She will still be dancing
To her favorite song her favorite song.
You'd believe that girl
But not her world.
Or see her face
When she cries everyday
Or know what to do
When you know what she's been through
And I can't believe
Now what I see
Cause she dances and dances
Without anything wrong
She just dances and dances
To that same old song
Behind closed doors
She can't feel that much joy
As tears and tears pour
As tears and tears pour
But as she dances
And dances with stars above
She's small but she can reach out
That far into love
And when everything's wrong
She will still be dancing
To her favorite song.
And when she dances she dances
To her favorite song
She dances and dances
Because nothing is wrong
And when she dances
She reaches out far into love
She dances and dances
With the stars above
And even though she's small
She can make it through it all
She's as joyful as can be
When you see you'll believe
That nothing is wrong
When she is dancing to
Her favorite song.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
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Musical Instruments To Produce Love
Cymbal for Zambia
Zambia for Cymbal
Zambia cymbal music
Harps to produce musical sounds
Tambourines to produce musical dances
Dances for Serbia Ladies
Samba shake body make bottom dazzle our eyes for laughter
I did not have shoes, i complained crying profusely until i saw a man without legs, i have legs and i can dance
Love sparkles beauty
Beauty sparkles dance
Dance for all is fun
Cymbal for Zambia
Zambia for cymbal
Zambia cymbal music
Harps to produce musical sounds
Tambourines to produce musical dances, we are dancing
Babies Bobos want to dance, dance away your sorrows until day - break
We are dancing
Musical instruments produce melodious sound for love flow, caresses and kisses
Dance away your sorrows
We are dancing
poem by Olayemi Ayo
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At Way of Village
At Way of Village
At way of village
In harmony with tom-tom
The dancer dances
Putting on nose ring
Wearing anklet on leg
Lolita dances
Dance with word time
Wind parody of season
Band of joy maker
Dance with flute
Bend waist looks as snake
Dance in pleasure
Flash of lightning
Causes swinging the earth
Come make dances
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Everybody Dance (The Dance Of The Dead)
As the sun sinks upon the horizon,
As the dark night creeps in,
The dead dance.
On the streets they roam,
Silent,
Alone.
Everybody dances,
The saints and the sinners,
Everybody dances,
To the sound of the rhythm,
Everybody dances,
The dance of the dead.
The dance of the dead goes on,
And on,
Never stops,
Never slows,
Time does not matter to the dead.
Everybody dances,
The poor and the rich,
Everybody dances,
To the cries to the babies,
Everybody dances,
The dance of the dead.
As your time goes up,
The dead dance into your room,
Filled with silent movements,
They twirl with grace,
And style
And ease.
They reach out their hands,
And you take it,
And join the dance of the dead.
Everybody dance,
The young and the old,
Everybody dance,
The music is playing,
Everybody dance,
To the dance of the dead.
C’mon,
Everybody dance,
Soldiers and lovers,
Oh,
Everybody dance,
To sound they cry,
So,
Everybody dance,
To the dance of the dead,
The dance of the dead.
Oh,
Everybody dances,
Because the dance never stops.
6/05/06
poem by Charlie F. Kane
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Stuck On You
(words & music by aaron schroeder - j. leslie mcfarland)
You can shake an apple off an apple tree
Shake-a, shake- sugar,
But youll never shake me
Uh-uh-uh
No-sir-ee, uh, uh
Im gonna stick like glue,
Stick because im
Stuck on you
Gonna run my fingers thru your long black hair
Squeeze you tighter than a grizzly bear
Uh-uh-uh,
Yes-sir-ee, uh, uh
Im gonna stick like glue
Stick, because im
Stuck on you
Hide in the kitchen, hide in the hall
Aint gonna do you no good at all
cause once I catch ya and the kissin starts
A team o wild horses couldnt tear us apart
Try to take a tiger from his daddys side
Thats how love is gonna keep us tied
Uh-uh-uh
Yes-sir-ee, uh,uh
Im gonna stick like glue
Stick, because im
Stuck on you
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stream Of Life
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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LXIX
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of
leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and
of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from Gitanjali (1912)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mornings Ecstacy
Night and blue stars in a silver galaxy-glimmer
Soon swirls of golden eddies mark the way
Daylight bathes her in brightest sunlight
'Tis a velvet- soft musk- filled day;
Her window on the world -pulses
Morning dances in- raising the east
Clocks tick in- time mounting
While her kitchen of creation prepares a feast;
The birds announce morn's arrival
The roosrter cocka-doodle-doo's his call
Waking her 'neath beams of sunshine- shimmering
Nearest to the ivy's -climbing wall;
Making her home in natures green vale
A bucholic Lamb- enhanced bed
Emerald blades of grass-dew tipped glitter glistening
All the while- ecstacy resonates inside her head;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Flash Jack From Gundagai
I've shore at Burrabogie, and I've shore at Toganmain,
I've shore at big Willandra and upon the old Coleraine,
But before the shearin' was over I've wished myself back, again
Shearin' for old Tom Patterson, on the One Tree Plain.
All among the wool, boys,
Keep your wide blades full, boys,
I can do a respectable tally myself whenever I like to try,
But they know me round the back blocks as Flash Jack from Gundagai.
I've shore at big Willandra and I've shore at Tilberoo,
And once I drew my blades, my boys, upon the famed Barcoo,
At Cowan Downs and Trida, as far as Moulamein,
But I always was glad to get back again to the One Tree Plain.
I've pinked 'em with the Wolseleys and I've rushed with B-bows, too,
And shaved 'em in the grease, my boys, with the grass seed showing through.
But I never slummed my pen, my lads, whate'er it might contain,
While shearin' for old Tom Patterson, on the One Tree Plain.
I've been whalin' up the Lachlan, and I've dossed on Cooper's Creek,
And once I rung Cudjingie shed, and blued it in a week.
But when Gabriel blows his trumpet, lads, I'll catch the morning train,
And I'll push for old Tom Patterson's, on the One Tree Plain.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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In Between Dances
(craig bickhardt/barry alfonso)
Theres room at my table, why dont you pull up a seat
The musics inviting but Im staying off of my feet
The floors getting crowded, but I dont wanna take part
I bet you can guess its got something to do with my heart
I could sure use your company now
But dont be mistaking my smile
Im only in between dances
Sitting it out for a while
The partners are chosen, look at them waltzing away
The tempo gets slower, closer and closer they sway
Ive had my moments when I could get lost in the sound
But when the song ended the one in my arms let me down
I could sure use your company now
But dont be mistaking my smile
Im only in between dances
Sitting it out for a while
Have you been in my shoes
I search your eyes for signs
Will you remain, remember my name
After its closing time
I could sure use your company now
But dont be mistaking my smile
Im only in between dances
Sitting it out for a while
Im only in between dances
Sitting it out for a while
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Dancing Girl With A Black Hair
the little dancing girl
has a long black hair
with twin dimples
on her mabolo cheeks
she dances in the air
she dances in the water
in the hills, in the clouds
at night, in vast space
she dances in my dreams
when i am sober
when i am drunk
when i am engrossed
in something else
she is the brown little girl
with a long black hair
the dancing girl like a
whirlpool in my mind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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White surf dances up
curtsies to the beach and
dances back again
again and again and again
huddled in cuddle we - laugh!
tanka by Dónall Dempsey
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When the Bear Comes Back Again
Oh, the scene is wide an’ dreary an’ the sun is settin’ red,
An’ the grey-black sky of winter’s comin’ closer overhead.
Oh, the sun is settin’ bloody with a blood-line on the snow,
An’ across it to the westward you can see old Bruin go;
You can see old Shaggy go,
You can see the brown Bear go,
An’ he’s draggin’ one leg arter, an’ he’s travellin’ pretty slow.
We can send a long shot arter, but he doesn’t seem to know—
There’s a thin red line behind him where it’s dripped across the snow;
He is weary an’ he’s wounded, with his own blood he’s half-blind,
He is licked an’ he’s defeated, an’ he’s left some cubs behind;
Yes, he’s left some cubs behind;
Oh, he’s left some cubs behind;
To the tune of sixty thousand he has left some cubs behind.
Oh, they’ve pulled him by the nose-ring and they’ve baited him in pits,
An’ they bluffed him, an’ they bruised him, an’ they mostly gave him fits;
But he hugged ’em badly one time when they tried him in his den—
An’ he’ll make it warm for someone when he comes back East again;
When the Bear comes back again,
When he’s lopin’ round again,
There’ll be lively times for Jacko when the Bear comes back again.
Oh, we chased him out of Turkey—I don’t know for what idea,
It took two dogs an’ a lion for to beat him in Crimea;
He’s goin’ home to lick his wounds, he’s goin’ to his den,
But he’ll make it warm for someone when he comes South-East again,
When the Bear comes back again,
When old Bruin comes again,
He will make some dead to die on when he comes back from his den.
Keep a sharp look-out behind you, every way you turn, my lad,
It don’t matter who you might be, for you bet the Bear is mad;
Keep a sharp look-out to Nor’ard, to the South an’ West an’ East,
For he mostly always finds you where you most expect him least;
Where you most expect him leastest,
Where you most expect him least,
Oh, you’ll catch him grabbin’ for yer where you most expect him least.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Dance Cheat
You are my dance-time lover
the one who dances dances dances;
while I sit at the table
with my husband.
I am bathed in music
and incipient Infidelity
because it is you I crave.
In my mind I get to move with you
your face always in change:
but in your dance
I reach for the evening sky;
expand,
moving with the energies,
losing myself to rhythms there.
Is it cheating?
It is.
Dancing's the blame
and a heart structure
which has no power against
dancers who seduce
wives
with music
and bodies which ungulate.
I am warm.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Face Up
Ever since Ive seen your face
This life of mine has gone to waste
I was young and you were old
And I always knew you were cold
At the start you had a heart
But in the end you lost your friend
Can you see your own dark face?
Its dieing in a lonely place
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
As we get old, we lose our place
Reflecting back the worlds disgrace
I feel so low, I feel so humble
Sometimes in life we take a tumble
Dont let anybody tell you that youre no good
Cause you know they would
Dont let anybody tell you what you should do
Cause its not that way and...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
You were me and I was you
This world of ours it felt brand new
You took me a little further...
I heard it all before, Ive heard it all before
I cant hear it anymore
Your hair was long, your eyes was blue
Guess what Im gonna do to you
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure...
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reciprocal Invitation To The Dance
THE INDIFFERENT.
COME to the dance with me, come with me, fair one!
Dances a feast-day like this may well crown.
If thou my sweetheart art not, thou canst be so,
But if thou wilt not, we still will dance on.
Come to the dance with me, come with me, fair one!
Dances a feast-day like this may well crown.
THE TENDER.
Loved one, without thee, what then would all feast be?
Sweet one, without thee, what then were the dance?
If thou my sweetheart wert not, I would dance not.
If thou art still so, all life is one feast.
Loved one, without thee, what then would all feasts be?
Sweet one, without thee, what then were the dance?
THE INDIFFERENT.
Let them but love, then, and leave us the dancing!
Languishing love cannot bear the glad dance.
Let us whirl round in the waltz's gay measure,
And let them steal to the dim-lighted wood.
Let them but love, then, and leave us the dancing!
Languishing love cannot bear the glad dance.
THE TENDER.
Let them whirl round, then, and leave us to wander!
Wand'ring to love is a heavenly dance.
Cupid, the near one, o'erhears their deriding,
Vengeance takes suddenly, vengeance takes soon.
Let them whirl round, then, and leave us to wander!
Wand'ring to love is a heavenly dance.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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All Of Their Laughter
A child’s smile is a gift from God
A child’s touch like that of Angel’s wings
A wriggle of their nose like the spread of fairy dust
A child’s dimples softer than cream puffs
A look from their eyes like catching a shooting star
A child’s hug is like falling through a cloud
When each child falls asleep in their home
All of their laughter dances back to his throne
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
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The bear dances but the tamer collects the money.
A bear that dances in your neighbor's house might soon dance in yours.
In Arching Waters
In arching waters
the black bird dances
with graceless step,
head jerks, probing soft soil,
penetrating wet grass
when rearing back primitive eyes
it raises ivory beak
and offers a shining prize,
living, writhing.
captive
to mother-sky.
poem by Steven Federle
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