Where have all the poets gone?

Discussion in 'Just Dance' started by Flujo, Oct 13, 2008.

  1. Flujo

    Flujo Sabor Ambassador

    Where have all the poets gone on the forum(s)?
    If you look back at some of the old threads there are some really heart felt posts that cover the emotional and spiritual aspects of the dance. Some of it is pure poetry talking about things like self-awareness, dancing with your heart, letting the music move you etc.

    All these threads seem to inexplicably end around 2006 so my question is...where have all the poets gone?
     
    #1
  2. sweavo

    sweavo Maestro 'Guaguanco' Rodríguez

    A guy dancing with a bad spotter
    Wasn't sure which way round he had got her
    He knocked off her cap
    Got her in a neck wrap
    And managed to nearly garotte her

    is that the kind of thing you were looking for?
     
  3. KP-salsa

    KP-salsa Shine Officer

    Where have all the poets gone
    Long time passing
    Where have all the poets gone
    Long time ago
    Where have all poets gone
    Gone to dance the foxtrot every one
    When will we ever learn
    When will we everrrrrrrrrrrrrrr learn.
     
  4. KP-salsa

    KP-salsa Shine Officer

    Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay!
    Alas! I am very sorry to say
    That ninety lives have been taken away
    On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
    Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
     
  5. TrulyMadlyAmanda

    TrulyMadlyAmanda Shine Officer

    wot?

    [scratches groin and sniffs]
     
  6. Flujo

    Flujo Sabor Ambassador

    :lol: I knew the first few replies would go something like that. Ok close the thread...they've been found!
     
  7. KP-salsa

    KP-salsa Shine Officer

    You're just pining for the zen master Boriken, aren't you.
     
  8. Flujo

    Flujo Sabor Ambassador

    How did you guess!? *chuckles*
     
  9. smiling28

    smiling28 Moderator

    For you my friend:

    *understand your post but we are all poets at heart ;)

    Now Salsa Forum's newest member John Keats has to share:

    Ode on a Grecian Urn
    -----------------

    Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
    Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
    Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
    A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
    What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
    Of deities or mortals, or of both,
    In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
    What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
    What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
    What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

    Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
    Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
    Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
    Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
    Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
    Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
    Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
    Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
    She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
    For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

    Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
    Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
    And, happy melodist, unwearied,
    For ever piping songs for ever new;
    More happy love! more happy, happy love!
    For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
    For ever panting, and for ever young;
    All breathing human passion far above,
    That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
    A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

    Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
    To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
    Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
    And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
    What little town by river or sea shore,
    Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
    Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
    And, little town, thy streets for evermore
    Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
    Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

    O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
    Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
    With forest branches and the trodden weed;
    Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
    As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
    When old age shall this generation waste,
    Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
    Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
    "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all
    Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."
     
  10. MacMoto

    MacMoto Administrator Staff Member

    :lol: :lol: :lol:
    (I visited McGonagall's grave once, you know ;))
     
  11. narcosis

    narcosis Sonero

    Lol!! An instant classic, surely.
     
  12. miércoles

    miércoles Nuevo Ritmo

    P***ed
    Off
    Early
    Tomorrow's
    Saturday
     
  13. crazygirl

    crazygirl Rhythm Deputy

    S ome guys are gentle
    A nd others or not,
    L eading me clearly with
    S exy eye contact is hot.
    E very dance is different
    R arely say no thank you,
    O nly if sleazy or smelly
    S alseros I love you!


    Yeah I know I must be bored today - better go dancing later :)
     
  14. sweavo

    sweavo Maestro 'Guaguanco' Rodríguez

    Beautiful work!
     
  15. crazygirl

    crazygirl Rhythm Deputy

    Not as great as yours but thanks for appreciating my rambles :)

    How about you doing a salsera one?
     
  16. sweavo

    sweavo Maestro 'Guaguanco' Rodríguez

    Sweating like bacon
    Armpits aglow
    Labouring breathless and
    Stepping too slow
    Each lead is rough
    Repertoire less than fair,
    And yet she forgives me, my wonderful Salsera!
     
  17. Jambo

    Jambo El Sabroso de Conguero

    Awww, see who said there where no poets on here? :D

    Loving your work!
     
  18. Jambo

    Jambo El Sabroso de Conguero

    I apologize in advance for murdering the rather lovely poem 'Casabianca' by Felicia Hemans..........



    The boy stood on the burning decks
    Whence all the dancers fled.
    With earphones wrapped around his neck,
    Wondering why the floor was dead.

    Yet confident and sure he stood
    As born to rule the night.
    "If 'Lady' doesn't stir their blood
    Then maybe mixing might."

    The beats rolled on...the boy could mix,
    The dancefloor's soon alight,
    With no finale for their dips and tricks
    And no end to the track in sight.

    They call aloud "Say, DJ, say
    If yet my task is done?"
    They know not that a new song plays
    And still the beat goes on.

    "Speak, DJ!" once again they cry
    "If I may yet be gone!"
    But just the booming base replies,
    The mix goes on and on.

    He sees the couples fill the room,
    No partner change? Who cares?
    He looks from his lone post of doom,
    On a dancefloor of despair.

    They shout but one more time aloud,
    "Say DJ, must I stay?"
    He glances out towards the crowd.
    "They love to hear me play!!"
     
  19. crazygirl

    crazygirl Rhythm Deputy

    Good work guys! Wasn't exactly the point of this thread but fun anyway :)


    Salseros go red
    Salseras go blue
    It's all that spinning
    Turns their brains to goo
     
  20. SDsalsaguy

    SDsalsaguy Administrator Staff Member

    Consequences

    Your slender, smooth flesh
    Presses back against my fingertips,
    Searing your way, into my soul.
    Your skin’s silken texture
    Pulsates beneath my grip.
    Your flawless form frightens me,
    Sending continuous ripples
    Through my soul, small stones
    Cast unceasingly. The Wavelets
    Of your presence crash in my chest,
    Suffocating me, their crescendo
    Rings in my ears, deafening me.
    My blood seethes and boils.
    The proximity of your lithe body,
    Firm and complete, scatters my thoughts.
    I have touched you.
    I have felt your skin.
     

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