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Floyd Dance Free: The Poem

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I danced on the ledge of a tall building
swaying but not falling down
I danced like Houdini throwing confetti
like Annette Funicello in Beach Blanket Bingo

I danced a biblical epic
a science fiction movie
and a music video

I danced while fishing
I cast a wide net
I sewed a warm red sweater
for a child

I got my feet wet dancing
through Chinese rice patties
then tiptoed over hot coals in Bali
In a sarong while holding a platter of mangos
I danced coconuts off the trees

Like a whirling dervish meets Jackson Pollack
I danced blue onto a big empty canvas
Through rock and roll, disco, and punk
in and out of bumper cars at Paragon Park
across the floor of the Surf Ballroom

I shuffled the Philly like I was Mustang Sally
Hula-hooped my way past my girlfriend Jayn
who was strolling down a sidewalk
with a be-bop and a hop scotch
We waved to other dancers
as they swung by

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I danced my shyness away
my socks off and my hair down
I joined the army while dancing
but quit by the next song

Legato, staccato, jukebox jive
My feet played chopsticks
While my hands high-fived

I danced with a smile as big as Billy Preston’s
when he had an afro and played with the Beatles
I danced myself a part in the musical “Hair”
sang the Age of Aquarius on stage

I danced through a glass beaded curtain
found Jimi Hendrix on the other side
Went to a jazz club so smoky
I couldn’t see who was there

I danced through downtown traffic
signaling left and right turns with my arms
I danced alongside the motorcade in Dallas
and John F. Kennedy didn’t get shot

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I followed a flute to the coast of County Cork
where my father’s mother was born
Then stood on the shore
like the French Lieutenant's woman
waiting for my loved ones to return

I sailed through the rhythm of a storm
on the open bow of a boat
from Ireland to Boston in a green velvet cloak
that flapped wildly in the wind

By firefly light and fairytale moon
I spun a spell of Rumi’s words
and Rumplestiltskin’s gold

Swinging low and slow
like a hammock in the tropics
I danced “Where the Wild Things Are”

With a pocketful of posy
and a mind bent towards poetry
I dilly-dallied, waltzed, and whirled
to a far away corner
of the new world

Then I laid out a tapestry
like a page in a story
I let the rhyming do the dancing
while I sat still

~ Colleen Redman

Photos: 1. The altar at January's Dance Free this past Friday night. 2. Jayn and dancer in the background. 3. Lora and Dove dancing. Learn more about Floyd's Dance Free HERE. More Dance Free photos HERE and HERE.

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Comments

You wrote that yourself right? I really liked that, very very nice.

Colleen I am afraid I might not be dancing Thursday evening with the "herd" after all. We have to keep our eyes on the weather! How awful that the one night there is a cool gig we are expecting ice!!!

Thanks, Deana. I added my name to the poem. It will be a fun one to read at open mic because of the fast paced beat. Remember the Moody Blues song, "Thinking is the Best Way to Travel?" For me, if I add dancing and thinking together I'm gone!

I guess we won't be dancing in the same vicinity until Floyd Fest?!

Cool! At first I thought this was a women's circle till I saw the dancers. Have you read "The Millionth Circle"? I recommend it.

Also, which Nora Jones album should I buy first?

Susan

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the poem, Colleen! did i mention i LOVE it? wish i could join you in your dancing adventures sometime. they'd run us out of town here if we had something like that....those damn hippies!!! they look at me funny when i walk home from yoga class carrying my yoga mat.

We have dance free on a friday night, the same night as the old-time music jamboree, which makes for an eclectic mix in town that night!

I don't have Nora's new CD yet. I have her first two and LOVE them both. Maybe the second one most. I forget the names but you can't go wrong either way.

We have male dancers too. The dancing is all very improv and done to a wide range of music from all over the world with some oldie but goodies thrown in.

I'll have to check out that book.

Oh, what a wonderful poem on this cold gloomy day!

I think you covered just about everything possible, but maybe you'll invent some new way at the next dance! Very cool poem and event! Did you bunny hop all over Easter?! Did you macorena all around the macoroni bowl?!!

Great poem! Lots of vivid imagery in that. It felt like ... dancing.

You have high tea poets and whirling dance poets and butterfly dream nature poets and emotional poets and historical poets...... my goodness, what will Floyd think of next!

Great piece Col and so like you to choreograph such a poetic composition.
On another note...
I'm dancing again; ie; my computer is humming again...finally. (It's been off again for week this time, as you know.)
Last time it was down, it was down for over a month which caused me to stop waltzing over at my blog, PPP of View.
I'm not sure I can still carry the tune. I'm not sure I want to keep up with the beat.
Good though that your melody is still coming in loud and clear!

Love the poem. Too dance is to feel free.

AHHHHhhhh!!!!
I saw the smile on your face and the pen in hand - I knew something was being birthed - It's so easy to be me at Dance Free!
So happy to share the Dance with you.

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