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the power of movement
by Jared Fladelandthe dancers stretch and beg and call
for a third row ovation
with the flowers and the petals
falling from the ceiling
as they stretch in diagonals with umbrellas
and glitter.
they mold and bend and defy
their own tendons
as they for all too long a moment
suspend the ethics of gravity.
and how do they do it,
how do they do it.
then the dancers metamorphoses
into trees and leaves
and automobiles
and i believe every moment of it,
every moment.
and in the middle is the prima donna
frozen
like the mother weeping
for the child that fell into the starry pond
and never came back to earth.
and it hurts so much
like a symphony of a man's last breath
and i wonder
how do they do it,
how do they do it.
01/27/2009 Posted on 01/27/2009
Copyright © 2026 Jared Fladeland
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/27/09 at 06:01 PM This is pretty powerful in of itself. |
| Posted by Mary Frances Spencer on 01/27/09 at 06:16 PM Lovely! MFS |
| Posted by Rula Shin on 02/01/09 at 04:31 AM I can fully identify with the sentiments of this wonderfully written poem. It feels as natural to read as the aching and awe of the heart in the presence of BEAUTY. It draws us into a realm of dreams and longing; gives us utmost pleasure and yet painfully reminds us of what we are not. That's how I felt. Great write Jared. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/24/09 at 01:40 AM Those first two stanzas create a fluidity to this that continues on - I like that affect very much. You have created the stage here on this page. Thank you. |
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