Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Dance of No Permission

By Angela Counts © 2008

Dance
Ask no permission

You are your own joy
Your own bliss

Dance upon the cornerstones on that which has not been built

Dance upon dust
Kick up a storm

And watch them blind their eyes

No matter
A dance is DNA

The blood that knows

It won’t be forgotten

It can’t be stopped

It is the beat that keeps step

The step that is history

When we don’t know

We still know

In that quiet place

The heart racing around

Anxiety, Desire to move ahead

Dance, head held high
Dance, like you never knew how

And this, and now
Two steps, One step back

Moving forward, In circles

Light that corner
With feet of your own imagination

Kick the door out on that which can’t be said

Dance with anger, dance with joy
No matter

It’s your dance

Dance, like you never knew how
And this, and now

Two steps, One step back
Moving forward, In circles

Light that corner
With feet of your own imagination

It’s your dance

Star 69

By Angela Counts ©

The earth strip mined leaves
A bitter taste in the mouth
The caps of lush, green mountains
Ripped to moon deadness numbs me.

"Star Sixty-Nine" can bring back a deceitful telephone caller
But God created her once
Lush, impermanent memory.

When they visit her millennium from now
Will they know her languid and green?
Or will they marvel at her rugged terrain,
Grey, jagged, as far as the eye can see?

Will they think her like the Moon and We, rapacious moon-dwellers,
Stalking her stones and
Burying her streams?

Will the dreams of her past come to haunt in Deep forest nights when we dream in Technicolor past; when we
Surf the web of our collective imagination?

Will buried red bones rise up with
White bones
From the same dead Earth,
In hollers that no longer whisper?

We can never create her again,
Recover what she gave us.
We who want mortar and brick, and plastics
And cars to drive, and air conditioners to cool.

She will never breath the same way again, Offer us her majestic shoulders to stand upon. The crook of her arms
Will never shelter us again.

We will walk upon her carcass,
Sift through
Her debris
And fail to imagine her reality.

-- Angela Counts (c) copyright 1998