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Contests : Tom Howard/John H. Reid Poetry Contest : Past Winners : 2007 : Commended
DANCE WITH ME
It is frustrating trying to lure this fearful fellow to the floor:
He lurks in crooked corners uncertain whether to stay or stray.
Why will he not depart if he cannot anticipate and participate?
I was occupied, consistent and content until he consumed me
With this tripping tune that tremendously triggered my heart;
My knees trembled as my nerves vividly vibrated their consent,
With feet and ears itching, senses oscillating, longing for fulcrum,
My ease was diseased, my peace in pieces, resisting restoration
As my mesmerized mind memorized the melodious rhythm.
There I sat enchanted; watching and waiting, humming and hungry
For a chance to dance to this ethereal tune on terrestrial planes.
Instead, he is flirting and skirting around the dance floor
With game boards and game plans, luring me to play
But who told him I want to play silly goose games?
I tapped my feet quietly, gently, then obviously, obliviously,
Hoping he would catch the drift and make the move
But he seems a deaf musician. Can the blind play games?
I smell something fishy and it is driving me crazy!
If I had a stronger liver, I would throw an irresistible bone,
Deliciously dangle along as he bundles through the jungle
And say a mega amen when we synchronize in paradise.
Unfortunately, I lack grit for such thrillers; faith killers, hope bouncers,
Lest the bait become my trap: fleeting pleasures for crippling pressures
As a wrap of sweet melts into nothingness, leaving scars of bitterness.
But I am sick sitting and wondering, pondering such wastefulness,
I am tired of rocking and roasting, praying while he is playing.
In fact, he is losing attraction, my attention, and turning repulsive
Because he is beaming disturbing signals of disappointment.
I recognize the signs, having been severally admitted and treated
But after my last discharge, I defiantly divorced all traffickers:
It is tragedy to stir and steer exclusive emotions in such directions
Besides, this ware is too toxic for my seeking but sensitive soul.
Then what good is an unpatriotic partner with perfect skills?
I am tempted to pause the vibes, stall the moves and turn him off,
Change the stage, rewrite the script and choose cooperative characters.
I want to tune to a sterling station with responsive reception,
Transmitting trident treasures instead of travesty and triviality,
Try a new frequency, there must be one that plays my kind of music
For I truly desire to swing and sway, to same song, in sync
With someone who like me, is available, reliable and ready:
Not a deaf player or a blind dancer, no, those are bad news,
Neither a fearful nor a doubtful partner for despite dazzling headlines
They spin in clairvoyant circles and eventually trash you in trauma.
By the time a remote mate returns, realigns, ready to dig and dive
Dancers have retired and exasperated expectations exterminated.
I need someone passionately poised to exercise, excel and exhale;
Not inflated or intimidated but adventurous and courageous,
Creative, inventive, adaptive, productive and submissive,
Duly equipped to thread on others' fears, undaunted by dangers,
Thrilling to try, training to trust, cheerful to change a step or two,
Patient till our steps blend and we flow harmoniously to unity
For life is about risks, perfect partners are fantasies, not reality:
Life's music is not ideal, neither are we but we grow as the show goes on.
This poem won a Commended award in the 2007 Tom Howard/John H. Reid Poetry Contest sponsored by Tom Howard Books. Author Glory Odemene received a $50 award. Winning Writers assists this contest. Copyright is reserved to the author.
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