Helen of Troy Does Counter Dancing
The world is full of women
who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself
if they had the chance. Quit dancing.
Get some self-respect
and a day job.
Right. And minimum wage,
and varicose veins, just standing
in one place for eight hours
behind a glass counter
bundled up to the neck, instead of
naked as a meat sandwich.
Selling gloves, or something.
Instead of what I do sell.
You have to have talent
to peddle a thing so nebulous
and without material form.
Exploited, they'd say. Yes, any way
you cut it, but I've a choice
of how, and I'll take the money.
I do give value.
Like preachers, I sell vision,
like perfume ads, desire
or its facsimile. Like jokes
or war, it's all in the timing.
I sell men back their worst suspicions:
that everything's for sale,
and piecemeal. They gaze at me and see
a chain-saw murder just before it happens,
when thigh, ass, inkblot, crevice, tit, and nipple
are still connected.
Such hatred leaps in them,
my beery worshipers! That, or a bleary
hopeless love. Seeing the rows of heads
and upturned eyes, imploring
but ready to snap at my ankles,
I understand floods and earthquakes, and the urge
to step on ants. I keep the beat,
and dance for them because
they can't. The music smells like foxes,
crisp as heated metal
searing the nostrils
or humid as August, hazy and languorous
as a looted city the day after,
when all the rape's been done
already, and the killing,
and the survivors wander around
looking for garbage
to eat, and there's only a bleak exhaustion.
Speaking of which, it's the smiling
tires me out the most.
This, and the pretense
that I can't hear them.
And I can't, because I'm after all
a foreigner to them.
The speech here is all warty gutturals,
obvious as a slam of ham,
but I come from the province of the gods
where meaning are lilting and oblique.
I don't let on to everyone,
but lean close, and I'll whisper:
My mothers was raped by a holy swan.
You believe that? You can take me out to dinner.
That's what we tell all the husbands.
There sure are a lot of dangerous birds around.
Not that anyone here
but you would understand.
The rest of them would like to watch me
and feel nothing. Reduce me to components
as in a clock factory or abattoir.
Crush out the mystery.
Wall me up alive
in my own body.
They'd like to see through me,
but nothing is more opaque
than absolute transparency.
Look - my feet don't hit the marble!
Like breath or a balloon, I'm rising,
I hover six inches in the air
in my blazing swan-egg of light.
You think I'm not a goddess?
Try me.
This is a torch song.
Touch me and you'll burn.
Stichwörter: dancing house morning atwood helen troy of margaret burned counter does
I should have danced more when I had no fear of falling.
Kim CormackStichwörter: life dance dancing life-lessons illness
They were drinking, laughing and dancing, but I was sitting alone in the corner and talking to your soul.
M.F. MoonzajerStichwörter: dancing soul drinking alone laughing
It doesn’t matter if I’m off the beat. It doesn’t matter if I’m snapping to the rhythm. It doesn’t matter if I look like a complete goon when I dance. It is my dance. It is my moment. It is mine. And dance I will. Try and stop me. You’ll probably get kicked in the face.
Dan PearceStichwörter: dance dancing peer-pressure self-doubt inhibitions overcoming-fear
You may make love in dancing as well as sitting.
Aphra BehnStichwörter: love dance dancing dancer
You’ll learn, as you get older, that rules are made to be broken. Be bold enough to live life on your terms, and never, ever apologize for it. Go against the grain, refuse to conform, take the road less traveled instead of the well-beaten path. Laugh in the face of adversity, and leap before you look. Dance as though EVERYBODY is watching. March to the beat of your own drummer. And stubbornly refuse to fit in.
Mandy HaleStichwörter: happiness laughter dance dancing fitting-in authenticity adversity rules life-lessons chances boldness uniqueness lessons non-conformity finding-yourself positive-thinking road-less-traveled taking-chances getting-older lessons-learned being-yourself breaking-the-rules loving-yourself overcoming-adversity standing-out journey-of-life the-single-woman go-against-the-grain living-life-on-your-own-terms
Dance. Smile. Giggle. Marvel. TRUST. HOPE. LOVE. WISH. BELIEVE. Most of all, enjoy every moment of the journey, and appreciate where you are at this moment instead of always focusing on how far you have to go.
Mandy HaleStichwörter: happiness love dance dancing faith hope smile live-in-the-moment trust believe attitude appreciation gratitude wish positive-thinking living-life-to-the-fullest happy-life the-present journey-of-life the-here-and-now the-single-woman faith-in-yourself your-journey seizing-the-day counting-your-blessings living-a-happy-life
She hasn’t got it all figured out...far from it, in fact.
But she loves God and she loves to dance…and she’s her own “Better Half.”
The bravest woman I know?
She is the reason I do what I do.
She is The Single Woman.
She’s me…and she’s you.
Stichwörter: dance dancing god bravery self-worth destiny completeness imperfection positive-thinking wholeness single work-in-progress loving-yourself single-life better-half being-single the-single-woman single-woman trust-the-journey single-journey
I was watching while you're dancing away,
our love got fractured in the echo and sway.
How come everybody wants to be your friend?
You know that it still hurts me just to say it.
Stichwörter: friendship pain love dancing echo
When I was 14-15
There was nothing to my life
but dancing and sex
I'd go to night clubs and dance
Then I'd meet someone and have sex
it was Fine and easy
nothing to do
BUT Think with my body
like a bird
I Thought I was Free
TrAcey Emin
Stichwörter: dancing freedom sex free teenager promiscuity child-abuse underage effects-of-child-abuse sexual-exploitation
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