Posts filed under ‘memory’
Monday in Paris #4

“I see dreams ~ ready to conquer…”
*This photo was taken from the Musee d’Orsay. On the left of the photo (behind the Hausmannian Buildings which run along the length of the photograph) is the Palais Garnier – Opera Nationale de Paris. On the right is Montmartre – home of Sacre-Coeur.*
silence
~
~
i listen to the silence and weep ~
the voices which fill my heart with love and laughter
have gone
to spread their joy elsewhere.
~
i remain alone,
with a head full of bittersweet memories
and
a broken heart.
~
~
a chilly game
~
sitting on uninviting slabs
wind whooshing through fleece
air nipping at noses
autumn soccer and sunsets
~
~
waiting…in the wings
ξ
ξ
anxiously awaiting their cue
they stand single file
tutus poofed, ribbons secured
calling all dancers………PLACES!
ξ
ξ
the muse
~
~
the scent of Chanel still lingers,
though her pulse is no longer felt
she has left him in the darkness ~
robbing him of his capacity to create.
~
as he sits quietly on his stool
staring at nothing but his hands,
he tries desperately
to remember
the first moment she captured his mind…
~
it was so many years ago
when she opened the door ~
each curve captured his imagination,
gave him a purpose,
fueled his drive
~
but
~
now
she is gone for eternity,
time has robbed him
of his life ~
two hands forever empty,
his passion
no longer alive.
~
~
~
suspended in time
∼
∼ ∼
looking in his eyes
feet never touching the ground
once upon a waltz
∼
∼ ∼
∼
a ps: Way back when I was in college, I took a historical dance class, which was taught by Mr. Richard Powers*, a famous dance historian known for his work in film, stage productions and workshops around the world. Each class, a student had an opportunity to dance with the teacher. My opportunity – my blessing – came the day of the waltz. He stood in front of me, took my hand and the other commandingly held my waist. I was terribly jittery inside; nervous that I would step on his toes, or worse, break a limb. When the music began, I was literally swept off my feet. All I can say is that I have never, ever had a moment where I completely lost track of time and place. All I saw were his eyes and, I can honestly say, I never felt my feet touch the ground.
There has never been a moment like this since.
≈
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Powers_%28dance_historian%29
hidden from view
…
..
.
dreams i cannot reveal
emotions i must conceal
thoughts i cannot think
words i cannot speak
.
..
…
legs
∫
∫
for more than twenty years…
you completed my lines,
you gave me a dream
and
you challenged my life.
∫
i treated you with respect
and
tender loving care.
in return,
you gave me wings –
allowing me to fly through the air.
∫
you were there at the beginning,
for all the blood, sweat
and
tears,
helped me soar above the sadness –
sustained my life through the years.
∫
though my world no longer revolves
around a dance barre
and
a stage,
i look upon you – now –
still wishing for those days…
…
forever dreaming…
when life
was
young
and
the heart
was
brave.
∫
∫
∫