Friday, January 26, 2018

The Dancer

Can I just toot my horn for a sec?  Frenzied gyration, dizzying twists and mind bending moves, insane synchronicity and complete rhythmic symbiosis - all this and more as I danced my youth away during those wild years of infamy.  My body became an instrument that I used at will for my enjoyment, rapture and thrill as I threw myself into the music whilst clubbing and frankly, whenever else I could get it.  Back in my glory days, when I went where the wind blew and then some, dancing was my religion - the only true pleasure I had as my life unravelled helplessly between my fingers.

I remember the excitement I used to feel as the anticipation of a night spent perusing and partaking of nightclubs coursed through my veins.  I'd prep to step out in my hotel room at the Golden Eagle, that cesspool of humanity, while beats would hit me from the cheap radio that was perennially by my side.  As I sit in my maturity now and peck out these words, I still listen to those beats.  House music, my love my passion, the fuel to my rhythmic fire, alas, is now only a stint between worship tunes and peaceful melodies, but I still get it in there as it continues to and always will be in my bones.

Back in the day, I was the queen, the star of the night as I rocked with my Sicilian stilettos, a madwoman in invisible chains nevertheless for a moment free with the ecstasy of total surrender to motion.  You must understand, however, that everything I experienced was heightened to the umpteenth degree by this little thing called chemistry.  My body failed to produce what my brain needed to be happy, so my mind went a little cuckoo.  This translated to an enhanced dancing experience that frankly, blew people away FYI

So what of it?  As my mentor John Really would say "all that and a nickel buys a 5 cent cigar, if you smoke cigars".  Even though I don't really dance anymore, my life today is immeasurably deeper and more satisfying since I met Christ.  And nothing has the corner market like peace, stability and the maturity I'm grateful to now have - not even dancing.  I am thankful to have grown up, even though it has meant leaving certain pleasures behind but God never takes without replacing and I lack nothing.   Still, deep in the recesses of my soul there lies a bag of glitter and a dance floor, waiting.




































Brother

Pockets of grief linger in my heart,
the organ that's been torn all apart.
This country night I've not much to do,
so I sit on the porch feeling like goo.

I'm watching my brother wash off his car, 
and marvel at how thorough his efforts are.
He scrubs and he soaks and wipes patiently,
sweating with work and spent energy.

The strains of the music that fills his ears,
mix with the moment erasing my tears.
It's cloudy and muggy and windy tonight
but somehow watching my brother makes it alright.

I wish we could talk like we used to do
when we were little and all things were new.
But we struggle, we fight and argue so much -
it's really a shame we're so out of touch...

My brother, my comrade, my partner in crime
lets hang out lets talk more, it's certainly time.