Sometimes I Wish I Would Dance – Spoken Word Poem

Sometimes I Wish I Would Dance – Spoken Word Poem

I am severely late in posting this thanks to the one two punch of a power outage followed by an interminable period of extremely slow internet. Normally I aim for around two to four in the afternoon, but such is life. When it comes to accomplishing tasks, my aim is generally better than my aim with a gun. Unfortunately sometimes the wind throws dirt in your eye and your aim goes far wide. But dancing is what this post is about, the movement of the body in … prescribed motions?  random motions? appealing motions? jittery? smooth? It’s the nature of art I suppose, the subjectivity. There is clearly good dancing, and clearly bad dancing. But I am no dancer so I hesitate to slap a label on one or the other. Except when it comes to myself. That I would admit to any time of day, without any arm twisting or affectatious bet. I like to think the signals forming in my brain to be sent to my muscles are perfect, untarnished little messenger impulses. They would leave me dancing like some modern Fred Astaire. But then embarrassment and self-consciousness sets in and waylays my pristine messenger impulses along their neural road like bandits on merchants. And it all goes downhill from there. The timing is screwed and messages possibly mixed up. Next thing you know I’m resorting to a two-step with drink in one hand and an empty pocket in the other. This relatable to anyone out there? If you’re wondering what the cure for this malady might be, look no further than the poem below.

Sometimes I Wish I Would Dance

You know sometimes I wish I would dance
Hold my fears back by leashing them to a post and feeding them kibble laced with some hell yes
That would make it easier to go on the dance floor and jam out the cadence
But there is a decent chance I could die in the sweaty press of bodies out there
Even though the part of me that watches too much TV
thinks there are worse ways to go than
Croaking out my soul
To the beat of heavy bass
With a woman pressing herself only a thin piece of cloth away
I still maintain
the dance floor is made of lava
And stepping on it would burn my feet
Alright, alright,
I can tell you don’t believe me
You think I’m being cowardly
so let me explain
That many people jumping around wildly
Whiling out with their side piece
Or winding up with their soul piece
Or tossing a single token in the slot and living their life singly
All of that
in close proximity?
How will there be any air for me to breath
And even if there is
The oh so sickly sweet tinge of stale beer and
Hormones born of unrequited glances
Suffuse the air
until every new inhalation
Is a breath of reconciliation
At the altar of screw the consequences
Somebody needs to check if oxygen
Plays favorites because these people on the dance floor have too much life in them
So I guess it’s social claustrophobia
even though part of me wants to go on the dance floor I tend to settle for the alternative
Take it from the guy who stands as if his partner is the wall
And takes sips of piss colored light beer alternating between gulps of recycled air
I’ve found that being in a club with a dance floor is like being in a nice sit down restaurant with decor
that perfectly suits your designer suit and tie or high-end chiffon dress
You can do these things alone
But unless you’re relaxing at the bar
face an inscrutable mask of cool
You’re bound to get some awkward glances
unless you’re a woman then it’s hungry glances
I suppose the question
is whether I should care
And I suppose I’m trying to pinpoint the answer
when I say sometimes I wish I would dance
hold my fears back by leashing them to a post and feeding them kibble laced with some hell yes
And I suppose the answer is
a life full of I wish is a life of what ifs
So screw it
The next time I see a mesh of bodies lining up their heartbeats
And I feel like joining
I’m jumping on the lava strewn dance floor and letting my body find its own timing

 

 

Thanks for reading/listening. You are awesome.

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5 thoughts on “Sometimes I Wish I Would Dance – Spoken Word Poem

  1. Nicely examines the angst of whether one feels that they belong on a dancefloor and, as you rightly point out, whether they should care. I assume you know of The Smith’s ‘How Soon Is Now’, which distills the awkwardness down to: “There’s a club if you’d like to go, You could meet somebody who really loves you. So you go and you stand on your own; And you leave on your own; And you go home and you cry and you want to die”.
    I went to see a band I loved when I was a teenager and wrote a poem immediately afterwards about the experience and it kind of touches on some of the themes you’ve highlighted (except the reason for being there is live music, rather than social interaction). Hope you like it: https://babbitman.wordpress.com/2015/11/01/but-we-re-different-now/

    1. I hadn’t heard that song. Checked it out though. Thanks for the point in that direction. That lyric you put encapsulates a lot of things together, on the more serious side of course. I’m about to go check out your poem. Thanks for all the input!

        1. Some things went over my head! But no worries. Don’t have to catch all the references to get a feel for a poem. Still definitely enjoyed it.

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