Dancing at Duey's

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  1. #1

    Dancing at Duey's

    Dancing at Dueys

    She carried her life in Walmart bags:
    bags of poems
    bags of brains
    bags of hammers
    bags of chains.

    She knew forty thieves who all took her dancing
    dancing at Duey’s
    bags of dancing
    dancing at Davenport’s
    bags of fancy

    danced her down to the market square
    marked for delivery
    marked for desire
    marked for no one
    marked for pyre.

    Tattered and torn – shattered and shorn,
    spill your bags in foggy morn
    bags of bodies
    broken and cold
    boneyard babies
    nine days old

    bags of anger
    bags of pain
    look at her eyes
    bags of shame

    She carried her life in Walmart bags:
    bags of holes
    bags of hags
    bags of birthdays
    bags of bags of bags of bags.
    Last edited by TL Murphy; March 12th, 2019 at 06:39 AM.

  2. #2
    Nothing jarred or caught me eye here TL just wanted to let you know I enjoyed reading this poem, I loved the turn with look at her eyes, bags of shame, that hit the mark beautifully - funny/sad at the same time and that is the best use of humour - laugh so you don't cry.

  3. #3
    I agree with Danny. Also, it reads like a song, and it could very well be lyrics, I would love to hear it as a stage performance
    Hidden Content Hidden Content

    I am a clay potato in a strawberry field
    -Darren White, from "Clumsy"

  4. #4
    hello - enjoyed this poem - with its well-wrought mix of humour and despair

    and is fine as it is.......but I can't help tinkering........

    She carried her life in Walmart bags - She carried her past in Walmart bags
    She knew forty thieves who all took her dancing - Forty thieves took her dancing
    bags of fancy - bags of prancing
    marked for pyre - marked for liar
    spill your bags in foggy morn - spill your bags of the new-born

    just my thoughts.................Ned
    find the sublime within the murk
    then throw in a rhyme to make it work

  5. #5
    Ned, can you explain why you feel those changes would make the poem better?

  6. #6
    TL - Spectacular in the overall terror of a sad woman's baggage she carries through life.

    broken and cold
    boneyard babies
    nine days old ~ steller

    look at her eyes
    bags of shame ~ I'm with Danny. You nailed it


    S2-L1 A perfectly honed portentious line but I see it being disturbed by the following 4 lines which kind of muddle seque. I'd send them on vacation and consider the following... (Well, now it's known I don't care for the title!)


    She knew forty thieves who all took her dancing ~ .."forty thieves" Brilliantly chilling
    Danced her down to the market square

    Following 4 lines - "marked for...." Supurb play-ons

    Other than what I suggested you really worked this well. Ingenious piece, not be forgotten.

    I do have a question. Danny read dark-sad humour here. Was this your intent? I found it utterly heartbreaking
    and therein lies
    the beauty.
    “The man who cannot visualize a horse galloping on a tomato is an idiot.”
    Andre Breton

  7. #7
    double post - always double trouble.
    Last edited by SilverMoon; March 16th, 2019 at 03:20 AM.
    “The man who cannot visualize a horse galloping on a tomato is an idiot.”
    Andre Breton

  8. #8
    "Ned, can you explain why you feel those changes would make the poem better?"


    no I can't TL.
    because I never said I felt those changes would make the poem better.


    what I actually said, is that the poem is fine as it is.


    as in my critique of your poem 'only she could hear',
    I am having to repeat myself again, and it's getting rather tiresome.


    I merely spun out a some alternatives from a subjective point of view.
    but for what it's worth, I'll share my rationale....


    She carried her life in Walmart bags - She carried her past in Walmart bags
    has more poetic resonance, as the body of the poem seems to address the subject's past


    She knew forty thieves who all took her dancing - Forty thieves took her dancing
    less clunky and more immediate.


    bags of fancy - bags of prancing
    unless 'fancy' has some higher meaning, I'd keep to the rhyme scheme


    marked for pyre - marked for liar
    'pyre' seems arbritary - 'liar' is less bombastic


    spill your bags in foggy morn - spill your bags of new-born
    'foggy morn' is a departure for the voice - and sounds rather contrived
    'new-born' also rhymes and resonates with what follows (wasn't that obvious?)


    just some food for thought amongst all the gush TL.


    anyway, the poem seems to be a smash, so why change a thing?
    find the sublime within the murk
    then throw in a rhyme to make it work

  9. #9
    Quote Originally Posted by TL Murphy View Post
    Dancing at Dueys

    She carried her life in Walmart bags:
    bags of poems
    bags of brains
    bags of hammers
    bags of chains.

    She knew forty thieves who all took her dancing
    dancing at Duey’s
    bags of dancing
    dancing at Davenport’s
    bags of fancy

    danced her down to the market square
    marked for delivery
    marked for desire
    marked for no one
    marked for pyre.

    Tattered and torn – shattered and shorn,
    spill your bags in foggy morn
    bags of bodies
    broken and cold
    boneyard babies
    nine days old

    bags of anger
    bags of pain
    look at her eyes
    bags of shame

    She carried her life in Walmart bags:
    bags of holes
    bags of hags
    bags of birthdays
    bags of bags of bags of bags.

    With your opening line, you captured and intrigued me... there was a time when my life was in a Dollar Store bag... and may well be there again

    There is a cool tempo to the way this poem sounds and moves and that ... paired with the message makes this a memorable poem. This is so different from most of the poems posted here lately, and different is good and this poem reminds me of exactly why poetry is my passion...
    She lost herself in the trees,
    among the ever-changing leaves.
    She wept beneath the wild sky
    as stars told stories of ancient times.
    The flowers grew toward her light,
    the river called her name at night.
    She could not live an ordinary life,
    with the mysteries of the universe
    hidden in her eyes....
    Author: Christy Ann Martine

    Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,
    love leaves a memory no one can steal....
    Author unknown.

  10. #10
    Thank you Fire. This is actually a love poem. I wrote it nearly 30 years ago after meeting my wife. I’ve been with her ever since so I guess the poem worked. In the poem, I fantasize a bit about her past and one of her possible futures. She is a remarkable person, a professional artist and art instructor with a master’s degree in fine art. She’s lived a bit of a vagabond life and had some rough goes. She’s a living paradox of heroism and vulnerability Aren’t we all?

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