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Tango Poetry

July 15, 2013 / tangoclay / Musings
7

poetic-penThe one who had made everyone else disappear

When I woke up this morning, I found no one in the house.
I looked outside, but there was no one in the street.
Boarding a bus with no driver, I made my way to an empty airport and onto a plane,
   where I waited, alone. exhausted,
I drifted back into a world of dreams and remembered the one I had danced with
     ….the one who had made everyone else disappear.
 –anonymous
If you’ve written or have a favorite tango poem, please submit it in your reply below.

7 comments on “Tango Poetry”

  1. Daniel Kemper says:
    November 8, 2020 at 7:12 pm

    The Tango Argentine

    Do they still dance on old walkways
    with lowered shoulders, mastered breath
    and almost martial, measured gaze
    though one that’s bent on life, not death?
    Will men with class step up and raise
    an arm and pause: a shibboleth
    that leading, and not lording, pays
    respect– and takes his partner’s breath?

    Do they still dance outside cafes
    where women take that hand, serenely
    send the other past and, tracing
    fingers round his shoulder, mean
    that he should follow her embrace?
    Will they, with slightest calf-lines lean
    in lightly, energize the space,
    and dance the Tango Argentine?

    Just look at him: He is the man
    who wears suspenders with his jeans.
    His faintly graying temples can
    assure, compel, invite. He means
    to spin a spell that’s greater than
    what younger tigers’ wisdom gleans.
    Just look at him. He is the man
    who understands what tango means.

    She is the savvy woman who–
    with tightened, open vest, surrenders
    nothing yet; with knees that through
    her silk, a-swish, delay the ends
    desire seeks, with eyes a hue
    of smoke-and-light no man contends
    against– draws in a partner to
    the energy the tango lends.

    He is the working man who, while
    the early coffee brews, tries out
    his steps or searches for his style
    between the dumpster and his doubt
    at midnight after work reviling
    graveyard shifts, and yet devoutly
    finds in form, despite his trial,
    his dance, and what it’s all about.

    She is the one who always seems
    too young for him, the woman who
    can read and write a man’s own dreams
    through layered bangs, cut sharply to
    the corners of her eyes. She screams
    inside at work while out of view
    she does her ochos– under gleaming
    counters: what else can she do ?

    Just look at him. Just look at her.
    Or rather look at all that they
    aspire to: their feet confer
    from worldliness and wear, the way
    of gravitas, while hips infer
    that heaven’s held in how they play.
    The dancers meld. Just look at her.
    Just look at him. And let us pray.

    Across the street a drunk sits down,
    too staggered to misunderstand.
    Another, having lost his frown,
    a Bidi smoking in his hand,
    has raised that arm and paused: a crowning
    gesture which has left him standing,
    poised to offer dance. Then down
    his spine run chills he never planned.

    The crowd in their own time and way–
    the shoppers, mocking teens, a few
    bravado boys, their dates– they play
    at life and pass. But one or two
    are changed, becoming as they sway,
    someone who steps-up to, or who
    draws out, the dreamy scene. Do they
    still dance the tango here? They do.
    The Tango Argentine.

    Reply
  2. David Bean says:
    February 12, 2016 at 4:51 pm

    The Way of Tango

    Embraced, we step
    each on one foot
    then the other
    ………….. listening,
    with that quiet animal
    who lives inside.
    The One who knows…
    how to keep Upright;
    The One who knows
    to get out of the way.
    Spine straight
    head balanced
    on the atlas disc
    each step taken
    with Solemnity
    and Risk.

    – David Bean inspired by
    Sophia DeMello-Breyner (look below)

    ©David Bean June 6 08

    I’m Listening

    I’m listening. But I don’t know
    If what I hear is silence or God.
    I’m listening. But I can’t tell
    If I hear the plane of emptiness echoing
    Or a keen consciousness
    That at the bounds of the universe
    Deciphers and watches me.
    I only know I walk like someone
    Beheld, Beloved and Known.
    And because of this
    I put into my every movement
    Solemnity and Risk.

    – Sophia DeMello-Breyner

    Reply
  3. Kim Kotila says:
    June 1, 2014 at 5:58 pm

    Still drying my tears,
    Though, of course I should have known,
    I strap on my shoes
    And summon the strength
    To soften my heart.

    Reply
  4. Bill Bowen says:
    June 1, 2014 at 11:22 am

    It takes three to tango

    Some say it takes two,
    they have not felt tango,
    have not yet understood tango.
    Always when tango comes
    there are three,
    if only two it is just a movement
    of bodies in space, a step, a twist,
    or a turn, a four-legged
    walking dance without heart.
    When tango enters the dance,
    always there are three,
    corazón a corazón
    heart to heart, turning into
    un corazón, one heart in two bodies.
    Pasión que mueve un corazón
    passion flowing from one heart
    moving through two beings becoming one,
    dancing a new soul of a momentary
    moving life into being.
    Here so short, then gone,
    Like the short life we live daily.

    – William Bowen
    2014 Portland Oregon

    Reply
  5. pat langley says:
    June 1, 2014 at 7:44 am

    FOR ALL ARGENTINE TANGO DANCERS……
    It takes a long time to understand this dance completely, but once you acquire the real feeling, it becomes photographed into the mind in a way that can never be erased.

    Reply
  6. Nadine York says:
    May 30, 2014 at 3:04 pm

    Love and Marriage

    Watching the young couple
    move onto the dance floor
    How she presses her cheek to his
    inhaling him
    How his arm embraces her
    hand firm over her spine
    drawing her into him
    How their bodies move together
    sensuous and fluid

    I smile at my husband
    compare
    their tango of passion
    to ours
    a clash of wills

    Nadine York

    Reply
    • Madeline says:
      November 23, 2022 at 10:38 am

      SO true Nadine! Fortunately my husband and I have got somewhat beyond this now after 20 years!

      Reply

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