And then there's poetry...

Ballad
Sitting in a hard wooden seat
My eyes are glazed over--no,
Not from boredom--
I'm just not here.
I'm away in a far-away time and place
Borne on the wings of a voice--
A disguised sailor on a ship is my friend
A farmer is holding a gleaming gold glove
On the wings of a voice
I may go where the wind blows--far and near
Where the willows grow
Where the wild birds sing
Where flowers grow...
And, as the music fades away, so does the dream.
And then--
The tears come.

It's odd--the happiest song always gave me heartache and still does. I can't listen to "Ballydesmond Polka" or "One Morning in May" without hurting inside...and I don't know exactly why. But I wouldn't trade it for the world. And any Balkan tune will do the same thing..."Bashal Bashal Kurtish" or "Liljano mome Liljano" kept me awake last night (click on the links and you get music. That's a warning.). Trivial Fact: I used to type quotation marks like this: ''That's a really cool thing!''

Dance
Come and dance with me.
Don't worry about time--I can't figure it out either.
This song makes a good stomping dance
And then this one is a slow one.
"Drink wine and break the glasses!" it says,
But to dance is better--
Prettier.
Dance with me.
Dance to the tambura's rythmic beat
Spin with a dizzying solo
Abandon form or style.
Dance!
Forget your cares,
Don't watch who's watching you--
They won't care or if they do it doesn't matter.
Dance!
The music calls me
Calls you
Calls us all.
Dance
Dance
Dance!

It's interesting that no matter what I'm doing, I end up on the dance floor when Balkanarama plays. And when Atwater-Donnelly plays, I usually embarrass myself silly. All I know is this: Eva Moon happens to have seen me dance...I found this out through another embarrasing moment that I think I've already blogged about...hm. Well, it won't hurt to tell again. It was at the northwest Folklife Festival in Seattle and they were playing, and I was minding my own business--dancing--and all of a sudden, I realize that somebody--Eva Moon, the very talented singer (and songwriter, according to my father, but I'll have to take his word for it because I'm too young to hear that) and also the last person I (at the time) wanted to catch me dancing. Oh, well. Well, my mother had this idea that we should all go say hi to her--for reasons that are too hard to explain. ("you'd like that, wouldn't you?" "mo-om! i'd be embarrased!") And then we said hi and I said something about dancing, and she said, "Yes, I know, I saw you." Well, so that's the story--except, at a great venue where they play the dance floor is uncannily close to the stage and our eyes have met several times. I can't believe it! Why do people want to see me dance?

All this was a while ago. This summer, if we see them, I am going to see if I can get Susie to join me on the dance floor. Probably not, so you'll just have to hear a post entitled "Nooooooo! Help me!".

(Actually, don't take that wrong. I am actually very--um, what's the word?--that she would happen to see me...it was on my ten wishes that would be outlandish but would be very cool if they would come true. (Another item was to be on Atwater-Donnelly's website, and that is another story!) (I am never going to dress up for Hallowe'en as long as I live!)
Saro, JLF, AAAEDF, and president of the BAAD club.