Related quotes: I dance in circles holding...

The Wedding Ring Dance

I dance in circles holding
the moth of the marriage,
thin, sticky, fluttering
its skirts, its webs.
The moth oozing a tear,
or is it a drop of urine?
The moth, grinning like a pear,
or is it teeth
clamping the iron maiden shut?

The moth,
who is my mother,
who is my father,
who was my lover,
floats airily out of my hands
and I dance slower,
pulling off the fat diamond engagement ring,
pulling off the elopement wedding ring,
and holding them, clicking them
in thumb and forefinger,
the indent of twenty-five years,
like a tiny rip of a tiny earthquake.
Underneath the soil lies the violence,
the shift, the crack of continents,
the anger,
and above only a cut,
a half-inch space to stick a pencil in.

The finger is scared
but it keeps its long numb place.
And I keep dancing,
a sort of waltz,
clicking the two rings,
all of a life at its last cough,
as I swim through the air of the kitchen,
and the same radio plays its songs
and I make a small path through them
with my bare finger and my funny feet,
doing the undoing dance,
on April 14th, 1973,
letting my history rip itself off me
and stepping into
something unknown
and transparent,
but all ten fingers stretched outward,
flesh extended as metal
waiting for a magnet.

poem by Anne Sexton
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Related quotes

Transmission

Radio, live transmission.
Radio, live transmission.
Listen to the silence, let it ring on.
Eyes, dark grey lenses frightened of the sun.
We would have a fine time living in the night,
Left to blind destruction,
Waiting for our sight.
And we would go on as though nothing was wrong.
And hide from these days we remained all alone.
Staying in the same place, just staying out the time.
Touching from a distance,
Further all the time.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.
Well I could call out when the going gets tough.
The things that we've learnt are no longer enough.
of the show
And we could dance.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio.

song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The moth hound

Of a coon hound
you have heard
there's plenty around

i have found
a very strange dog
who's nothing, but a moth hound

when ever, you see
he sees a moth near by
the moth trys to flee,

it isn't no match
as my dog goes after the moth,
and makes a wonderful catch

he eats it all the way
and chews and swallows
he looks at me, now he wants to play

poem by Jim Foulk
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Japan

Today I pass the time reading
a favorite haiku,
saying the few words over and over.

It feels like eating
the same small, perfect grape
again and again.

I walk through the house reciting it
and leave its letters falling
through the air of every room.

I stand by the big silence of the piano and say it.
I say it in front of a painting of the sea.
I tap out its rhythm on an empty shelf.

I listen to myself saying it,
then I say it without listening,
then I hear it without saying it.

And when the dog looks up at me,
I kneel down on the floor
and whisper it into each of his long white ears.

It's the one about the one-ton temple bell
with the moth sleeping on its surface,

and every time I say it, I feel the excruciating
pressure of the moth
on the surface of the iron bell.

When I say it at the window,
the bell is the world
and I am the moth resting there.

When I say it at the mirror,
I am the heavy bell
and the moth is life with its papery wings.

And later, when I say it to you in the dark,
you are the bell,
and I am the tongue of the bell, ringing you,

and the moth has flown
from its line
and moves like a hinge in the air above our bed.

poem by Billy Collins
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Moth To A Flame

(s. kipner/p. bliss)
Here again drawn like a moth to a flame
An invisible force pulling me close to you
I cant break free
Theres some kind of hold over me
Like a magnet, you attract me like steel
Im a kamikaze pilot, its a one-way flight
Getting to you is getting to me
Must be lack of oxygen
Im a do or die fanatic, no rationale
Cause anyone else could tell
You dont stand a snowballs chance in hell
Moth to a flame
A fatal attraction
Im flying too close to the sun
Sooner or later, youre gonna get burned
Moth to a flame
A lethal reaction
Im loving you under the gun
Its just a matter of time before I get
Over my head in your quicksand bed
The more I struggle the more Im sucked in
Here again drawn like a moth to a flame
An invisible force pulling me close to you
Im a kamikaze pilot, its a one-way flight
Getting to you is getting to me
Must be lack of oxygen
Im a do or die fanatic, no rationale
Cause anyone else could tell
You dont stand a snowballs chance in hell
Moth to a flame
A fatal attraction
Im flying too close to the sun
Sooner or later, youre gonna get burned
Moth to a flame
A lethal reaction
Im loving you under the gun
Its just a matter of time before I get burned
Moth to a flame
A fatal attraction
Im flying too close to the sun
Sooner or later, youre gonna get burned
Moth to a flame
A lethal reaction
Im loving you under the gun
Its just a matter of time
Moth to a flame
Missing you in action
Im flying too close to the sun
Sooner or later, youre gonna get burned
Moth to a flame
A lethal reaction
Im loving you under the gun
Its just a matter of time

song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pot And Kettle

Come close to me, dear Annie, while I bind a lover's knot.
A tale of burning love between a kettle and a pot.
The pot was stalwart iron and the kettle trusty tin,
And though their sides were black with smoke they bubbled love within.

Forget that kettle, Jamie, and that pot of boiling broth,
I know a dismal story of a candle and a moth.
For while your pot is boiling and while your kettle sings
My moth makes love to candle flame and burns away his wings.

Your moth, I envy, Annie, that died by candle flame,
But here are two more lovers, unto no damage came.
There was a cuckoo loved a clock and found her always true.
For every hour they told their hearts, 'Ring! ting! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!'

As the pot boiled for the kettle, as the kettle for the pot,
So boils my love within me till my breast is glowing hot.
As the moth died for the candle, so could I die for you.
And my fond heart beats time with yours and cries, 'Cuckoo! Cuckoo!'

poem by Robert Graves
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On the Second Day

On the second day,
The moth still sat, inert,
In the bowl of the urinal—
Still wedged between
The plastic of grating
Of the puck cover,
Still caressing
The deodorizing cake
That bakes in the warmth
Of several daily golden fountains:
In something personal.
By this time,
It had wings like wet,
Waxy tissue paper,
Folded to its body,
Which shribbled in
The humid, faux-sterile
Air.
The moth looked a paler shade,
Its skin warping to a half-way
Transparent wrinkle,
To a putrefied fold
Of dissolving empty space.
The poor moth.
I felt bad for it.
I tried to flush it again
To no avail,
So what else could I do?
I had to aim at the target
And take it down,
Sinking it momentarily
In the warmth of whatever
Left me,
Whatever traces of yerba mate
And morning shake might've
Percolated out
At 11: 14.
No offense to you, dear insect.

poem by Tim Stensloff
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Expectation

I fear that I have lost you
not from things you say,
just from the things you leave unsaid
on too many a day.
But should I not have known, my love
that things would end like this?
For too many years have passed us by
since that long ago cherished kiss.

The constant living that was separate from me
is the magnet I can't fight.
I can understand that attraction
like the moth that's drawn to the light.
I cannot dowse the light I fear
nor capture the moth I see.
And so the loss is my heartache
that came expectedly.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Marriage is to bind.

A moth has no desire for the flower he had visited.
A man has less desire for the woman he had tasted.
A moth wants its nectar. A man wants discovery.
That is why he is tied to her by marriage.
20.03.2001, pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Moth-Signal (On Egdon Heath)

'What are you still, still thinking,
He asked in vague surmise,
'That you stare at the wick unblinking
With those great lost luminous eyes?'

'O, I see a poor moth burning
In the candle-flame,' said she,
'Its wings and legs are turning
To a cinder rapidly.'

'Moths fly in from the heather,'
He said, 'now the days decline.'
'I know,' said she. 'The weather,
I hope, will at last be fine.

'I think,' she added lightly,
'I'll look out at the door.
The ring the moon wears nightly,
May be visible now no more.

She rose, and, little heeding,
Her husband then went on
With his attentive reading
In the annals of ages gone.

Outside the house a figure
Came from the tumulus near,
And speedily waxed bigger,
And clasped and called her Dear.

'I saw the pale-winged token
You sent through the crack,' sighed she.
'That moth is burnt and broken
With which you lured out me.

'And were I as the moth is
It might be better far
For one whose marriage troth is
Shattered as potsherds are!'

Then grinned the Ancient Briton
From the tumulus treed with pine:
'So, hearts are thwartly smitten
In these days as in mine!'

poem by Thomas Hardy
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A Moth Slow Dancing In Flames

After dark
a solitary moth
clad in lackluster
traipsed across the humid air
circumnavigating dismal filigrees
like an ominous message
conveying the petrichor

It weathered the tedium
of its own gust
crumbling slivered dusts
and tread the astray thread
of light and warmth
to find a candle
weep floridly bright

Like hands reaching out -
hands shaped into
a house with an open hearth
it melted and undressed
while its sartorial flame
remain unscathed

The moth basked
in this unprecedented heraldry,
this munificent beauty
like how the wine
feign resplendence under
the moon's gentle bliss
and the moth spewed
the colours it eschewed

The saudade warmth
embraced the moth's cape
of shame and pride
and became its asylum
and gilded heaven
Slowly dancing in flames
because to burn out
is better than to fade away

poem by Norman Santos
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To The Moth

It is dark, and yet alone you flitter hiding from unappreciative eyes
The contrast of the butterfly
soft fragile wings slipping through the dangers of the night
I envy the moth
that dances when the world slumbers
that sits alone on the windowsil under the silent song
of the moon
the brave little winged creature
growing in isolation
a sad reminder of the world
flourishing in the desolation
the perfect company
soft and sweet and silent
to whom

i wisper all my fears and troubles
someday dear moth
i will join you and we will
dance with shadows
and weave dreams from nightmares
whisper secrets
dance together
alone together

poem by Vice Haunt
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Disco Apocalypse

Down the side streets and the avenue
There be sisters walkin two by two
Their dresses and their shoes are new
But their hearts are weary thru and thru
And its a long way into the light of the day
While the juke box and the radio play
Where the days turn into the nights
People move into the sounds and sights
Like the moth is drawn into the lights
Like the tight-rope walker into the heights
Its in their hearts, its in their hips,
Its in their feet, its on their lips
Tonights the night Im gonna make you mine
Gonna dance right out onto the edge of time
When the sound starts pumpin
And the lights are flashin
And my hearts-a-thumpin
And I feel the passion
And the world is right there waiting
At my finger tips
Disco... apocalypse
In the dawn the city seems to sigh
And the hungry hear their children cry
People watch the time go by
They do their jobs and live and die
And in their dreams they rise above
By strength, or hate, or luck, or love
Tonights the night Im gonna make you mine
Gonna dance right out onto the edge of time
When the world starts turnin
And the dreams are burnin
And the skies awaken
Through the wind and the fire
They will be dancing still
Its in their hearts, its in their hips,
Its in their feet, its on their lips
A single sound that never ends
They die each night and live again
Im gonna make you mine
Tonights the night
Out on the edge of time
With the dreams of flesh and love dancing in my mind
Dancing through the fire on the edge of time

song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance Dance Dance

After six hours of school I've had enough for the day
I hit the radio dial and turn it up all the way
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beat's really hot) right on the spot
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beat's really hot
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
When I feel put down I try to shake it off quick
With my guy by my side the radio does the trick
I wanna dance (dance dance dance now the beat's really hot) right on the spot
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beat's really hot
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
At a weekend dance we like to show up late
I play it cool when it's slow and jump it when it's fast
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beat's really hot) right on the spot
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beat's really hot
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(Dance dance dance now the beat's really hot)
(Dance dance dance right there on the spot)

song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance, Dance

Dance, Dance
To the music
Dance, Dance
To the beat
Dance, Dance
To the rhythm
Stomp your feet

Dance, Dance
Even though
Your tune they don't hear
Dance, Dance
For yourself
Have no fear

Dance, Dance
If you're alive
You're doing well
Dance, Dance
And grin
So the world can tell

You know you've got
A life to live
You're looking at the joy
This world can give

And you're dancing and laughing,
Won't be dragged down
You'd rather keep moving
Than stay with a frown

Dance, Dance
'Til it's played to the end
Dance, Dance
With a smile
My truly brave friend

poem by Atara Gedalowitz
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Dance with Me in The Key of Life

Holding the strings of vibes
We move to dance of life
When I look I see your essence
In space now empty
Quiet where the shout of whisper
Voice unheard in heart beats
Come here and dance
Hear the song of my mind
Dance to my beat in life
Let me hold you close to me
I feel my song is you
I want to sing you play to you
My beautiful song you be
Let me turn you
In step with my life
Move with me to music of life
Dance to pain of life
To joy of reality
The song for us to dance
Your moans of pleasure
Move me to love you
I now want to dance with you
Our finger touch our lip meet
Kissing to beats of jazz before
The blue come down on my soul
On I am coming to be true
To need what you be for me
Let just dance to our song
What the matter I’m the same as
Before your beats is my beat
Come dance with me come need me
I wait for you to know
I am for you only
Dance come dance your story with me
Move to life up and down
Dance with me I need you to dance
The dance of life in song of love

poem by George Jerone Jefferson
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Dance, Dance, Dance

After six hours of school Ive had enough for the day
I hit the radio dial and turn it up all the way
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beats really hot) right on the spot
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beats really hot
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
When I feel put down I try to shake it off quick
With my chick by my side the radio does the trick
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beats really hot) right on the spot
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beats really hot
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
Ohby!
At a weekend dance we like to show up late
I play it cool when its slow and jump it when its fast
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beats really hot) right on the spot
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beats really hot
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance!

dance!
in the light of the dawn.
dance!
as if there were none.

dance!
to the call and the cry.
dance!
today you live, tomorrow

you die....

dance!
without holding back.
dance!
the color between white

and black...

dance!
for the gift of the pain.
dance!
in the sunlight, in the rain.

dance!
let two become one!
dance!
till all is said, and

all is done...

dance!
let your life be a prayer.
dance!
because you can, because

you care....

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Design

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth --
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth --
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small.

poem by Robert Frost
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In White

A dented spider like a snow drop white
On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of lifeless satin cloth -
Saw ever curious eye so strange a sight? -
Portent in little, assorted death and blight
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth? -
The beady spider, the flower like a froth,
And the moth carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The blue prunella every child's delight.
What brought the kindred spider to that height?
(Make we no thesis of the miller's plight.)
What but design of darkness and of night?
Design, design! Do I use the word aright?