I Kiss the Land with My Feet

Rommy is visiting for the weekend, and we want to spend as much time as possible conquering New York City. But I couldn’t skip a Sanaa’s Prompt Nights. Not when today’s theme reads as if it sprouted out of my own mouth: “Dancing is like dreaming with your feet”.

“I Kiss the Land with My Feet”

I kiss the land with my feet,
letting the world fill my blood
with song that tells of flesh
moving, dreaming, living, being

so wildly happy.

When my blood sings,
I dance until my bones cackle.
I live for me. And for others, too,
if they respect my song.

.
a wee note…
– Expanded Poem Bits of Fiction and Poetry, 14 (from “Respect My Song”)

Respect My Song

Asphalt Cries Red

I should know better than to visit the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads on days I scheduled for “no writing”. But I blame it on the Muse’s inability to control her Imagination… and on Marian’s talent to nudge creation… I blame it on Low Shoulder, too… since I can’t listen to “Through the Trees” without bittersweet melodies of love (now loss to this world) “pouring from my eyes”.

.
a bright bloom shrivels
when winter is lived too fast
and asphalt cries red

Baby Ghoul, by Gina Morley
Baby Ghoul”, by Gina Morley

The Rough Music

Your fear-torch can’t burn my might,
or force me or mine to stand aside.
Soul to soul, we are all connected
by the music that warms the heart
and entices the brain to dance true,

eventually. She will see your moves
for what they are, and you’ll lose
steps… and face.

That sound? Oh, just my words
putting on their combat boots,
tapping their This Is Enough Crap
sisterly tune. To kick you with?
Of course not! We aren’t you.

Still,
when kicks morph into shoves,
words can’t speak for all the hurt
your misdeeds have played
into our boots.

You started the beat, un-dear fiend…
But once the music hits the flesh,
the dance gets rough and feeds
on stress, leaving control to be held
by none.

.
Partly inspired by one of my favorite quotes, from Terry Pratchett’s I Shall Wear Midnight:

“You set the rough music on me, didn’t ya?”

“No one controls the music, Mr. Pretty—you know that. It just turns up when people have had enough. No one knows where it starts. People look around, and catch on another’s eye, and give each other a little nod, and other people see that. Other people catch their eye and so, very slowly, the music starts and somebody picks up a spoon and bangs it on a plate, and then somebody else bangs a jug on the table and boots starts to stamp on the floor, louder and louder. It is the sound of anger, it is the sound of people who have had enough. Do you want to face the music?”

linked to Poets United (Poetry Pantry, 294), Sanaa’s Prompt Nights
and Rereading My Pratchett

Music Girl Rebecca, by PlaviDemon“Music Girl Rebecca”, by PlaviDemon
via

a wee note: I already added the name of the winner of Magic Love Crow’s “Reclaiming My All” giveaway to the end of the original post. But I wanted to share it here again, just in case someone forgot to go check. Curious? *mischievous cackles* All right, I will be good… The winner is:

Laura Morrigan, of Roses and Vellum!

Congrats, Laura! Please send me your mailing information (magalyguerrero @ live . com). On behalf of Magic Love Crow (and moi), I wish to thank everyone for their heartfelt comments on the giveaway post. It was wonderful to see so many friends celebrate the art of another. ♥