En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Hoop Dance

_____ For Kevin Locke, Hoop Dancer
July,1989

The sun is a painted pony on the
runaway hoop of the sky.

Grounded at last. Golden
As old grass headed out in the heat,

The pale skull of Yellow Hair is balding
on the bosom of the earth.

Hear that squaw sound keening
along the telegraph wires?

“Custer died. STOP. All divisions massacred. STOP.”
Blue seeps into the dawn like cavalry coats.

Drum sound. Pierced with stars
Bright arrows in the coulees.

Under a moon cut like a
Bloody saber sliding over the thin glitter of water

Soldiers hoped to ford. Greasy Grass. Cemetery of poles
Like buffalo bones.

Three thousand tepees, ringing the night,
Cones on a jingle dancer’s dress.

A thousand feathers rampant and bending under
The hooves of the wind.

Bell song. Dirge. Hoops red and white.
All will dance.

poem by Val Morehouse
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For What It's Worth

[Originally by Buffalo Springfield]
There's something happening here
What it is ain't exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware
I think it's time we stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
There's battle lines being drawn
Nobody's right if everybody's wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Getting so much resistance from behind
I think it's time we stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
What a field-day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly say, hooray for our side
It's time we stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
You step out of line, the man come and take you away
We better stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, now, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down

song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For What It's Worth / Mr. Soul

buffalo springfield
For what it's worth
Stephen stills, 1966
There's something happening here
What it is ain't exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
Telling me i got to beware
I think it's time we stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
There's battle lines being drawn
Nobody's right if everybody's wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Getting so much resistance from behind
I think it's time we stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
What a field-day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly say, hooray for our side
It's time we stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
You step out of line, the man come and take you away
We better stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, now, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jingle Jingle My Bell

Jingle Jingle my bell
Jingle Jingle my bell
Please reassure me all is well

The sun sets down
The night is young
So I sing a song
Waiting for the night crickets
To sing along

Jingle Jingle my bell
Tell me now what I should sell

My soul to the sea
While the waves fight
In the darkness of the night

Jingle Jingle my bell
I am thirsty
Get me some water from the well

Sitting on the cliff
Watching the rift
Out at sea
White bubbles drowning and rising
I am glad that is not me

Jingle Jingle my bell
I am making some noise
Hear me yell

Jingle Jingle my bell
I am so happy
That you can tell

© Sylvia Chidi- 17 October 2005

poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How a Little Girl Danced

DEDICATED TO LUCY BATES

(Being a reminiscence of certain private theatricals.)

Oh, cabaret dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose eyes have not looked on the feasts that are vain.
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose soul has no bond with the beasts of the plain:
Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer,
With foot like the snow, and with step like the rain.

Oh, thrice-painted dancer, vaudeville dancer,
Sad in your spangles, with soul all astrain,
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Whose laughter and weeping are spiritual gain,
A pure-hearted, high-hearted maiden evangel,
With strength the dark cynical earth to disdain.

Flowers of bright Broadway, you of the chorus,
Who sing in the hope of forgetting your pain:
I turn to a sister of Sainted Cecilia,
A white bird escaping the earth's tangled skein:—
The music of God is her innermost brooding,
The whispering angels her footsteps sustain.

Oh, proud Russian dancer: praise for your dancing.
No clean human passion my rhyme would arraign.
You dance for Apollo with noble devotion,
A high cleansing revel to make the heart sane.
But Judith the dancer prays to a spirit
More white than Apollo and all of his train.

I know a dancer who finds the true Godhead,
Who bends o'er a brazier in Heaven's clear plain.
I know a dancer, I know a dancer,
Who lifts us toward peace, from this earth that is vain:
Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer,
With foot like the snow, and with step like the rain.

poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dancer

Im not invited to the party
Been sitting here all night
Im all alone here at the party
Aint got no black coat
Aint got no tie
I gotta shape up now
You gotto know why
Dancer, dancer
I cant live with it Im gonna die without it
Dancer, dancer
Aint no doubt about it
Dancer, dancer
Why dont you kick off your dancing shoes
And come along with me
Youre the life and soul of the funk-tion
It took me all night
To get hold of the right introduction
Blew me out of sight
I taste your lipstick
I look in your eyes
You feel fantastic
My body cries
(chorus)
(hot space)
Dancer, dancer
I cant believe your dancing
Cant take you home, cant take your dancing
Dancer, dancer, dance the night away

song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Wide The Dawn

How wide the Dawn
Is smiling!
How silent-new
The air is breathing!
How raw the sea
Without a wave
Is looking!

And in the night –
Id est last night
How strange
The owl chanteth!
How far, how far
Its cry did seem
And yet
It was so near!
How thrilled the tree
Below my lighted window
And in the night
The solemn night
The owl was still a-calling
To spirits wild
Perhaps
Or long white ghosts
Perhaps!

And in the eyes
Of the pale moon
The lake nearby glistened:
How white
How thin
The rays that fall
In midst of the dark waters!
And from the lake
A soundless sound
Is coming:
For in the waves
And from the waves
There comes a little gurgling
And in the night
In the long night
The owl is speaking, speaking!

Ah! this night – in the night
The people in the house
Are all a-sleeping
I – only I
The vigil, the night-vigil
Am making:
And I
And only I
Will my reward receive
For I
And only I
Am seeing
For I
And only I
Am hearing
And I
And only I
Am feeling!

How strange how sere
The feeling!
How from the clear night
The mist of sudden riseth!
And from afar
Past ten long fields
The cemetery is burning
With the pale light
Of the swift moon
That fall
On every wall
This long, long night!

It seems
It seems
That the cemetery’s open:
And yet
And yet
There is no noise
No sound
But from the yews
A soundless sound
Is coming:
A restless sound
Like souls
This night all-aching
And restless
Restless
At some thing
I am not hearing!

Ha! We on earth
Make prisons
And lodge
Bodies – human bodies in them:
And we on earth
Make cemeteries
And lodge
Bodies – human bodies in them
And the long night
Under the light
Of heaven
How waning-blue
And tight
Is coming!

So:
At long last
We fall into a prison
If not the one
In fine to the other
And at the last
And in the last
We enter our last prison:
And in the night
The long and lonely night
The cemetery is shining!

poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Sweet Dancer

THE girl goes dancing there
On the leaf-sown, new-mown, smooth
Grass plot of the garden;
Escaped from bitter youth,
Escaped out of her crowd,
Or out of her black cloud.
Ah, dancer, ah, sweet dancer.!

If strange men come from the house
To lead her away, do not say
That she is happy being crazy;
Lead them gently astray;
Let her finish her dance,
Let her finish her dance.
Ah, dancer, ah, sweet dancer.!

poem by William Butler Yeats
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Jingle Bell Rock

Jingle bell
Jingle bell
Jingle Bell Rock
Jingle bell swing
And jingle bell's ring
Snowing and blowing
Up bushels of fun
Now the jingle hop has begun
Jingle bell
Jingle bell
Jingle Bell Rock
Jingle bells chime
In jingle bell time
Dancing and prancing
In jingle bell square
In the frosty air
What a bright time
It's the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell time
It's a swell time
To go riding in a one horse sleigh
Giddy-up jingle horse
Pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and mingle
In a jingling beat
That's the Jingle Bell Rock
Jingle Bell Rock
Jingle Bell Rock
Oh yeah
Jingle Bell Rock
Jingle Bell Rock
Oh yeah

song performed by by Hilary Duff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bells Are Ringing

The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round
They hear the instructions
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (they travel great distances to the sound)
They are persuaded by the music of the bells
Theyre not responsible for anything they do
(no) the people know
(no) the way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
They hear the sound (they hear the sound)
They hear the sound (they hear the sound)
They hear the sound (they hear the sound)
They hear the sound
The bells are ringing
And everyones walking
With arms extended in a trance
Forgetting their washing
Neglecting the children
Theyre dropping all businesses at hand
A voice is telling them to act a different way
They tilt their heads so they wont miss what it will say
(no) and when its so
(no) theres this to know
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round
They hear the instructions
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound
They are persuaded by the music of the bells
Theyre not responsible for anything they do
(no) the people know
(no) the way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
A girl with cotton in her ears
Is shielded from the bells effect
As if by hidden signal
The people turn to face her
One thousand eyes are staring
They pull away her earplugs
The bells are pealing
And theyre revealing
The simple key to happiness
It isnt evil
It isnt good
Its only what the people miss
The bells explain what theyve been lacking all along
They were disorganized and that was what was wrong
(no) and now they know
(no) the way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
The bells are ringing (bringing the people round)
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
The bells are ringing (bringing the people round)
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (they travel great distances to the sound)

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soap Suds

This brand of soap has the same smell as once in the big
House he visited when he was eight: the walls of the bathroom open
To reveal a lawn where a great yellow ball rolls back through a hoop
To rest at the head of a mallet held in the hands of a child.

And these were the joys of that house: a tower with a telescope;
Two great faded globes, one of the earth, one of the stars;
A stuffed black dog in the hall; a walled garden with bees;
A rabbit warren; a rockery; a vine under glass; the sea.

To which he has now returned. The day of course is fine
And a grown-up voice cries Play! The mallet slowly swings,
Then crack, a great gong booms from the dog-dark hall and the ball
Skims forward through the hoop and then through the next and then

Through hoops where no hoops were and each dissolves in turn
And the grass has grown head-high and an angry voice cries Play!
But the ball is lost and the mallet slipped long since from the hands
Under the running tap that are not the hands of a child.

poem by Louis Macneice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Roxbury Garden

I

Hoops

Blue and pink sashes,
Criss-cross shoes,
Minna and Stella run out into the garden
To play at hoop.

Up and down the garden-paths they race,
In the yellow sunshine,
Each with a big round hoop
White as a stripped willow-wand.

Round and round turn the hoops,
Their diamond whiteness cleaving the yellow sunshine.
The gravel crunches and squeaks beneath them,
And a large pebble springs them into the air
To go whirling for a foot or two
Before they touch the earth again
In a series of little jumps.

Spring, Hoops!
Spit out a shower of blue and white brightness.
The little criss-cross shoes twinkle behind you,
The pink and blue sashes flutter like flags,
The hoop-sticks are ready to beat you.
Turn, turn, Hoops! In the yellow sunshine.
Turn your stripped willow whiteness
Along the smooth paths.

Stella sings:
'Round and round, rolls my hoop,
Scarcely touching the ground,
With a swoop,
And a bound,
Round and round.
With a bumpety, crunching, scattering sound,
Down the garden it flies;
In our eyes
The sun lies.
See it spin
Out and in;
Through the paths it goes whirling,
About the beds curling.
Sway now to the loop,
Faster, faster, my hoop.
Round you come,
Up you come,
Quick and straight as before.
Run, run, my hoop, run,
Away from the sun.'

And the great hoop bounds along the path,
Leaping into the wind-bright air.

Minna sings:
'Turn, hoop,
Burn hoop,
Twist and twine
Hoop of mine.
Flash along,
Leap along,
Right at the sun.
Run, hoop, run.
Faster and faster,
Whirl, twirl.
Wheel like fire,
And spin like glass;
Fire's no whiter
Glass is no brighter.
Dance,
Prance,
Over and over,
About and about,
With the top of you under,
And the bottom at top,
But never a stop.
Turn about, hoop, to the tap of my stick,
I follow behind you
To touch and remind you.
Burn and glitter, so white and quick,
Round and round, to the tap of a stick.'

The hoop flies along between the flower-beds,
Swaying the flowers with the wind of its passing.

Beside the foxglove-border roll the hoops,
And the little pink and white bells shake and jingle
Up and down their tall spires;
They roll under the snow-ball bush,
And the ground behind them is strewn with white petals;
They swirl round a corner,
And jar a bee out of a Canterbury bell;
They cast their shadows for an instant
Over a bed of pansies,
Catch against the spurs of a columbine,
Jostle the quietness from a cluster of monk's-hood.
Pat! Pat! behind them come the little criss-cross shoes,
And the blue and pink sashes stream out in flappings of colour.

Stella sings:
'Hoop, hoop,
Roll along,
Faster bowl along,
Hoop.
Slow, to the turning,
Now go! - Go!
Quick!
Here's the stick.
Rat-a-tap-tap it,
Pat it, flap it.
Fly like a bird or a yellow-backed bee,
See how soon you can reach that tree.
Here is a path that is perfectly straight.
Roll along, hoop, or we shall be late.'

Minna sings:
'Trip about, slip about, whip about
Hoop.
Wheel like a top at its quickest spin,
Then, dear hoop, we shall surely win.
First to the greenhouse and then to the wall
Circle and circle,
And let the wind push you,
Poke you,
Brush you,
And not let you fall.
Whirring you round like a wreath of mist.
Hoopety hoop,
Twist,
Twist.'

Tap! Tap! go the hoop-sticks,
And the hoops bowl along under a grape arbour.
For an instant their willow whiteness is green,
Pale white-green.
Then they are out in the sunshine,
Leaving the half-formed grape clusters
A-tremble under their big leaves.

'I will beat you, Minna,' cries Stella,
Hitting her hoop smartly with her stick.
'Stella, Stella, we are winning,' calls Minna,
As her hoop curves round a bed of clove-pinks.
A humming-bird whizzes past Stella's ear,
And two or three yellow-and-black butterflies
Flutter, startled, out of a pillar rose.
Round and round race the little girls
After their great white hoops.

Suddenly Minna stops.
Her hoop wavers an instant,
But she catches it up on her stick.
'Listen, Stella!'
Both the little girls are listening;
And the scents of the garden rise up quietly about them.
'It's the chaise! It's Father!
Perhaps he's brought us a book from Boston.'
Twinkle, twinkle, the little criss-cross shoes
Up the garden path.
Blue - pink - an instant, against the syringa hedge.
But the hoops, white as stripped willow-wands,
Lie in the grass,
And the grasshoppers jump back and forth
Over them.

II

Battledore and Shuttlecock

The shuttlecock soars upward
In a parabola of whiteness,
Turns,
And sinks to a perfect arc.
Plat! the battledore strikes it,
And it rises again,
Without haste,
Winged and curving,
Tracing its white flight
Against the clipped hemlock-trees.
Plat!
Up again,
Orange and sparkling with sun,
Rounding under the blue sky,
Dropping,
Fading to grey-green
In the shadow of the coned hemlocks.
'Ninety-one.' 'Ninety-two.' 'Ninety-three.'
The arms of the little girls
Come up - and up -
Precisely,
Like mechanical toys.
The battledores beat at nothing,
And toss the dazzle of snow
Off their parchment drums.
'Ninety-four.' Plat!
'Ninety-five.' Plat!
Back and forth
Goes the shuttlecock,
Icicle-white,
Leaping at the sharp-edged clouds,
Overturning,
Falling,
Down,
A nd down,
Tinctured with pink
From the upthrusting shine
Of Oriental poppies.

The little girls sway to the counting rhythm;
Left foot,
Right foot.
Plat! Plat!
Yellow heat twines round the handles of the battledores,
The parchment cracks with dryness;
But the shuttlecock
Swings slowly into the ice-blue sky,
Heaving up on the warm air
Like a foam-bubble on a wave,
With feathers slanted and sustaining.
Higher,
Until the earth turns beneath it;
Poised and swinging,
With all the garden flowing beneath it,
Scarlet, and blue, and purple, and white -
Blurred colour reflections in rippled water -
Changing - streaming -
For the moment that Stella takes to lift her arm.
Then the shuttlecock relinquishes,
Bows,
Descends;
And the sharp blue spears of the air
Thrust it to earth.

Again it mounts,
Stepping up on the rising scents of flowers,
Buoyed up and under by the shining heat.
Above the foxgloves,
Above the guelder-roses,
Above the greenhouse glitter,
Till the shafts of cooler air
Meet it,
Deflect it,
Reject it,
Then down,
Down,
Past the greenhouse,
Past the guelder-rose bush,
Past the foxgloves.

'Ninety-nine,' Stella's battledore springs to the impact.
Plunk! Like the snap of a taut string.
'Oh! Minna!'
The shuttlecock drops zigzagedly,
Out of orbit,
Hits the path,
And rolls over quite still.
Dead white feathers,
With a weight at the end.

III

Garden Games

The tall clock is striking twelve;
And the little girls stop in the hall to watch it,
And the big ships rocking in a half-circle
Above the dial.
Twelve o'clock!
Down the side steps
Go the little girls,
Under their big round straw hats.
Minna's has a pink ribbon,
Stella's a blue,
That is the way they know which is which.
Twelve o'clock!
An hour yet before dinner.
Mother is busy in the still-room,
And Hannah is making gingerbread.

Slowly, with lagging steps,
They follow the garden-path,
Crushing a leaf of box for its acrid smell,
Discussing what they shall do,
And doing nothing.

'Stella, see that grasshopper
Climbing up the bank!
What a jump!
Almost as long as my arm.'
Run, children, run.
For the grasshopper is leaping away,
In half-circle curves,
Shuttlecock curves,
Over the grasses.
Hand in hand, the little girls call to him:
'Grandfather, grandfather gray,
Give me molasses, or I'll throw you away.'

The grasshopper leaps into the sunlight,
Golden-green,
And is gone.

'Let's catch a bee.'
Round whirl the little girls,
And up the garden.
Two heads are thrust among the Canterbury bells,
Listening,
And fingers clasp and unclasp behind backs
In a strain of silence.

White bells,
Blue bells,
Hollow and reflexed.
Deep tunnels of blue and white dimness,
Cool wine-tunnels for bees.
There is a floundering and buzzing over Minna's head.

'Bend it down, Stella. Quick! Quick!'
The wide mouth of a blossom
Is pressed together in Minna's fingers.
The stem flies up, jiggling its flower-bells,
And Minna holds the dark blue cup in her hand,
With the bee
Imprisoned in it.
Whirr! Buzz! Bump!
Bump! Whiz! Bang!
BANG!!
The blue flower tears across like paper,
And a gold-black bee darts away in the sunshine.

'If we could fly, we could catch him.'
The sunshine is hot on Stella's upturned face,
As she stares after the bee.
'We'll follow him in a dove chariot.
Come on, Stella.'
Run, children,
Along the red gravel paths,
For a bee is hard to catch,
Even with a chariot of doves.

Tall, still, and cowled,
Stand the monk's-hoods;
Taller than the heads of the little girls.
A blossom for Minna.
A blossom for Stella.
Off comes the cowl,
And there is a purple-painted chariot;
Off comes the forward petal,
And there are two little green doves,
With green traces tying them to the chariot.
'Now we will get in, and fly right up to the clouds.
Fly, Doves, up in the sky,
With Minna and me,
After the bee.'

Up one path,
Down another,
Run the little girls,
Holding their dove chariots in front of them;
But the bee is hidden in the trumpet of a honeysuckle,
With his wings folded along his back.

The dove chariots are thrown away,
And the little girls wander slowly through the garden,
Sucking the salvia tips,
And squeezing the snapdragons
To make them gape.
'I'm so hot,
Let's pick a pansy
And see the little man in his bath,
And play we're he.'
A royal bath-tub,
Hung with purple stuffs and yellow.
The great purple-yellow wings
Rise up behind the little red and green man;
The purple-yellow wings fan him,
He dabbles his feet in cool green.
Off with the green sheath,
And there are two spindly legs.
'Heigho!' sighs Minna.
'Heigho!' sighs Stella.
There is not a flutter of wind,
And the sun is directly overhead.

Along the edge of the garden
Walk the little girls.
Their hats, round and yellow like cheeses,
Are dangling by the ribbons.
The grass is a tumult of buttercups and daisies;
Buttercups and daisies streaming away
Up the hill.
The garden is purple, and pink, and orange, and scarlet;
The garden is hot with colours.
But the meadow is only yellow, and white, and green,
Cool, and long, and quiet.
The little girls pick buttercups
And hold them under each other's chins.
'You're as gold as Grandfather's snuff-box.
You're going to be very rich, Minna.'
'Oh-o-o! Then I'll ask my husband to give me a pair of garnet earrings
Just like Aunt Nancy's.
I wonder if he will.
I know. We'll tell fortunes.
That's what we'll do.'
Plump down in the meadow grass,
Stella and Minna,
With their round yellow hats,
Like cheeses,
Beside them.
Drop,
Drop,
Daisy petals.
'One I love,
Two I love,
Three I love I say . . .'
The ground is peppered with daisy petals,
And the little girls nibble the golden centres,
And play it is cake.

A bell rings.
Dinner-time;
And after dinner there are lessons.

poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Angelsea

She moves like and angel
And seven evening stars
Dance through the window
Of her universal house
He voice a crystal echo
Lies humming in your soul
So patiently awaiting
For your ears to behold
She ripples on the water
Leaves diamonds on the shore
And fish from every distance
Watch her ocean cellar door
Her breath a warm fire
In every lovers heart
A mistress to magicians
And a dancer to the gods
And a dancer to the gods
Her clothes are made of rainbows
And twenty thousand tears
Shine through the spaces
Of her golden ochre hair
Ooh my babe I want you
And on my life I swear
My conscience will I follow you forever
If you meet me everywhere
Yes if you if you meet me everywhere

song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jingle Bell Rock

Jingle bell, jingle bell
Jingle bell rock
Jingle bell swing
And jingle bells ring
Snowin and blowin
Up bushels of fun
Now the jingle hop has begun
Jingle bell, jingle bell
Jingle bell rock
Jingle bells chime in
Jingle bell time
Dancin and prancin
In jingle bell square
In the frosty air
What a bright time
Its the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell, time
Is a swell time
To go glidin in a
One horse sleigh
Giddy-up, jingle horse
Pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and mingle
In a jinglin beat
Thats the jingle bell rock

song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jingle Bell Rock

Jingle bell, jingle bell
Jingle bell rock
Jingle bell swing
And jingle bells ring
Snowin' and blowin'
Up bushels of fun
Now the jingle hop has begun
Jingle bell, jingle bell
Jingle bell rock
Jingle bells chime in
Jingle bell time
Dancin' and prancin'
In jingle bell square
In the frosty air
What a bright time
It's the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell, time
Is a swell time
To go glidin' in a
one horse sleigh
Giddy-up, jingle horse
Pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and mingle
In a jinglin' beat
That's the jingle bell rock

song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Ship’s Rail

The blue sea bends to the ship
Like a dancer with skirts of lace—
Wide diaphanous laces that curl and dip
In the ardent wind's embrace.

Little rainbows dash at the play
And die of joy in the sun;
While over and under, the long bright day,
The sparkling footsteps run.

Lovely, melodious
Is the sound of the dance on the sea.
Softly the white robes trail and toss
Over blue waves that flee.

poem by Harriet Monroe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Skeleton Dance

The moon is on the graveyard,
The night is cool and still,
The wind blows gently,
Yes it blows where it will,
And the slightest sound,
From a place that's unknown,
Come do the skeleton dance,
And rattle my bones.

Do the skeleton dance
Jingle jangle bones,
Do the skeleton dance
All the way back home,
Do the skeleton dance
When you're all alone,
Do the skeleton dance
When you're done with your bones.

See the eyes of a werewolf,
Staring back at you,
A dozen or two skeletons,
Make up the rest of the crew,
The zombies stumble around,
Looking for their brains,
Ghost float like a mist,
And its about to rain.

Do the skeleton dance
Jingle jangle bones,
Do the skeleton dance
All the way back home,
Do the skeleton dance
When you're all alone,
Do the skeleton dance
When you're done with your bones.

The devil takes off his skin,
And plays the xylophone,
God plays the piano,
On a stool made of bone,
Jesus lights a lantern,
Buddha counts to three,
They all form a circle,
To do the skeleton dance with me.

poem by Blaine McCanless
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tiny Dancer

tiny dancer, dance for me
take away every dream and memory
trick me into believing everything is fine
dance til this rain turns to sunshine
as i watch you in my hand
...heal with with your beautiful dance
tiny dancer take me away
show me the way with your ballet
dance until my heart stops bleeding
kiss these wounds so they'll stop leaking
......now shes in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand
she dances with her heart and soul just so i can stand

poem by Tanesha Davenport
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lines: The cold earth slept below

The cold earth slept below;
Above the cold sky shone;
And all around,
With a chilling sound,
From caves of ice and fields of snow
The breath of night like death did flow
Beneath the sinking moon.

The wintry hedge was black;
The green grass was not seen;
The birds did rest
On the bare thorn's breast,
Whose roots, beside the pathway track,
Had bound their folds o'er many a crack
Which the frost had made between.

Thine eyes glow'd in the glare
Of the moon's dying light;
As a fen-fire's beam
On a sluggish stream
Gleams dimly--so the moon shone there,
And it yellow'd the strings of thy tangled hair,
That shook in the wind of night.

The moon made thy lips pale, belov{`e}d;
The wind made thy bosom chill;
The night did shed
On thy dear head
Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie
Where the bitter breath of the naked sky
Might visit thee at will.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mishmash! Wish-wash! A LONELY FISH Washes Away in Troubled life Seas!

Among twinkling stars – blue, red, yellow, I am blue with lonely flu!
Among the glossy stars, I am a dark space, a black hole, a black dwarf;
My life sucks for lonely bucks, everything sucks by lonely heat blue,
Squashed inside, packed outside by lonely gravity sucks – it kicks me off!
Mishmash! Wish-wash! A lonely fish washes away in troubled life seas.
Cock-a-hoop! Cock a snook! Oh my god! Lonely fish weeps in sleep!

Night has started, brain is heated – a lonely man repeated word ‘awful’;
I read lonely book full, It can be harmful, and it can be dreadful;
My heart is filled with empty space, my mind killed in the rat race!
Life dies inside me; hope dies outside as no one is beside my face;
Mishmash! Wish-wash! A lonely fish washes away in troubled life seas.
Cock-a-hoop! Cock a snook! Oh my god! Lonely fish weeps in sleep!

Alone I am in blowing wind as I stood in dark ravine of lonely ground!
Alone I am, I heard a baying sound – a tiny translucent gray cloud;
Alone I am, it is the loudest noise in the silence – a howling cry!
Alone I am, it echoes everywhere – I can’t explain any more – I’m dry;
Mishmash! Wish-wash! A lonely fish washes away in troubled life seas.
Cock-a-hoop! Cock a snook! Oh my god! Lonely fish weeps in sleep!

Alone I am wherever I go; alone I am whatever I do, I’m a lonely flower;
Alone I am in depression, alone I am in frustration – oh lonely sparrow!
Alone I am in today, alone I am tomorrow – all the time in sorrow....
Alone I am – lift me up, alone I am – help me out of the lonely river.
Mishmash! Wish-wash! A lonely fish washes away in troubled life seas.
Cock-a-hoop! Cock a snook! Oh my god! Lonely fish weeps in sleep!

poem by Harindhar Reddy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Greasy Grass River

Written by: r. robinson & c. robinson
Now Im swimming in the greasy grass river
On my way to the black pearl sea
Yeah Im floating down the greasy grass river
Come one child come with me
Life is so easy on greasy grass river
Just take my hand and we can pretend to be free
You wanna be
Free
Come on with me
Take me down to the greasy grass river
Wash my hands where the water is clean
Lay me down by the greasy grass river
And unfold my mystery
The greasy grass river has water that whispers
Lets listen closely while
She says she wants to be free
You wanna be
Free
You know what I mean?
Outro:
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind

song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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