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Whirling Dervish Girl

She is the whirling dervish girl
Spinning anticlockwise
She dances on her pedestal
As he growls and brays his lieswhirling-dervish
She is the whirling dervish girl

Pirhouetting on her jewel’ry box
Twist the key; watch her unfurl
Embrace the twirl of golden locks

Sweet ballerina, arabesque to the moon
Sweet ballerina, shine your aplomb
Sweet ballerina, give us a smile
Sweetheart, your man may then
Remain a short while

She is the whirling dervish girl
And she spins out of sync
Attempting to keep tempo
With every living thing

Not just the melodies dispersed from your heart
Not just the prospects of another new start
Not the uncertainties that follow around
A love-sick lady in a love-sick crowd

In plie, fouetté, twirl to the tune
Of the broken enrapture of the broken wound
Spin, spindly woman and let the world see
The enormity, eternity of all who are free

He is bucking again
As all danseurs should
He is dastardly conniving
In his stump in the wood
He is Nureyev, Radetsky and even Gene Kelly
He is Fred Astaire, Apollinaire, Baryshnikov and any
Poet or danseur she wants you to be
She frollicks haphazardly to the beauty of these
Whirling dervish men
Then assumes her position
First?
Second?
Constrained with resistance?
Stuck atop her jewel’ry box
The dancing inquisition
The whirling dervish child
Would rather show her audience

Ice skating is much better instead
Now would you kindly remove her
From her kitsch, boring bed?

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3 Comments»

  Sally wrote @

Wonderfully written, beautiful piece. Makes me dizzy reading it.

  Michael Pitkin wrote @

Amaziing indepth feeling and vision makes this surely one of the worlds most promising new poets

  Peter Piper wrote @

The clarity of the thoughts in this prose exposes the underlying feelings of satisfaction experienced by the writer


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