Tango Poetry

Retain The Mystery

2008-07-08T14:23:00.000-07:00

There are many people
willing to tell you what tango is
Listen to them all
Don't believe any of them
Then, when you're full
and you've sifted through it all
weighed the contradictions
tested the theories
decide for yourself
Better yet
stay with the question
Tango
like Love
and God
should remain a mystery.

vientos y tangos

2008-03-20T03:04:00.001-07:00

cold dawn slumbers on, unaware

of the baton preparing to strike . . .

dead, forgotten leaves rustling softly together,

declare the threshold of a new day.

this subtle chime awakens one tree,

then another . . . all listening intently

to a mellifluous saxophone melody.

as each bud awakens, another color brightens the sky,

vibrant violet, sapphiric blue, passionate red, brilliant gold.

more and more colors emerge, growing

into an overwhelming explosion of silence.

confidently, bass clarinet engages the dance

the sun's warmth invigorating his steps.

branches lightly graze one another

too innocent to recognize impulsive lust until

english horn and saxophone enunciate

the tango.

saxophone, slicked-hair, smirked-lips, struts forward

english horn steps back

regardless, he pursues

faintly, she encourages

saxophone whirls elegant horn legs round

their melting bodies

draw together

spread apart

promenading round one another fiercely

eyes melt in fire

lingering hands caressing

every inch of their form

quick flurs

slow embraces

passion play of fervor

and denial

sensual prurience consumes

their extravagant dance.

bassoons gossip, aghast, first inaudibly

then grow, hysterically. all stop dancing

frightened of intense, forbidden desire.

frightened of a simple dance.

undaunted, one branch embraces another,

bass clarinet requesting trumpet to dance

just once more. indulge

she tries denying herself

careless jubilation

heat of the noon-sun

encourages her

she accepts.

rebellious,

trees resume their dance

now hypnotized,

entranced,

without restraint.

branches mingle,

flute entangles with saxophone.

trees conduct the skies into

frenzied rhythms,

clashing chords,

absolute chaotic dancing

continuously crescendoing

branches become one

twirls, dips,

flutter of skirts,

prancing, cavorting,

dovetailing synchronically,

swiveling hips,

entwining legs,

spinning to and fro,

fierce frenzy,

Caliente! Caliente!

everything blurs together

on the brink of ambrosia, until

suddenly

the sun

starts

setting.

the baton slows, restrains the tango.

clarinet sadly sings as the wind dies

hindering trees into carved figures.

the wind diminuendos, into an almost nothingness

english horn ends the dance – takes her bow –

but still slowly, softly mourning

the end of her exuberant dance

so close to frivolity

mirth

yet, the new dawn will bring more wind

closer to

another tango.

Heart holding hands

2008-02-12T15:13:00.001-08:00

When we dance you and I alone

Moving and turning together

To music of the Bandoneon

The discovery the passion begins to start

Hands holding hearts

Manos tenecia corazones

Another song is danced

To a Milonga rhythm

You give me a smiling glance

To understand the passion of another land

Hearts holding hands

Corazones tenecia manos

When again the violin begins to play

I realize your beauty even more

You pull me close as if to say

Don't think twice

In this dance

We have found paradise

Mi bailarin hermosa

Alfredo Escalero

My Methodist Grandmother Said

2007-12-20T11:47:00.001-08:00

My Methodist
grandmother said
dancing
was adultery
set to music

how right she was

in that sweet sway
breast to breast and
leg to leg
sin comes into its own

if you have never
waltzed
you cannot imagine
the sheer voluptuousness
of it
the light touch
palm to palm
wool and silk
mixed below the waist
your partner's warm breath
on your neck
coming quicker
and quicker
the strength of the man
the yielding of the woman
so incorrect
so atavistic
so unspeakably sweet
he moves toward you
you back away
he pursues you
and with the faintest
pressure
you encourage him
and watch the blood
rush to his face

not a word is spoken
no one sees this
although it's done in public
in full sight of everyone

you touch
and retreat
meet
and touch again
in time to the music
saying yes
no yes
no yes
no
yes

you dance
without thinking of your body
in that gentle
rhythmic
careless
almost copulation
one two three
one
two three

the longest
foreplay
in the western
world

--- heard on Writers Almanac

Ludic Rondo in Reply

2007-12-09T09:23:00.001-08:00

what Orlando Messmer said

Your own feet dance this movement to the real.

As I track back in steel stiletto heels,

We mind the gap between vintage ballroom music

And the quiet gaze that drives your ludic

Gait. Someday I'll tell you how live play feels.

But I can't chat, not here: my lips are sealed —

Since you can't dance and talk, our state reveals

The abandoned body, how in its silent antic

Your own feet dance this movement to the real.

How much the pixeled avatar conceals!

All lives require flesh. Playsure does appeal

Yet tango still demands a mutual panic

Of trust by touch. Not to be pedantic,

But think: our unmediated vals anneals

Your own feet to dance this movement to the real.

— femfatalatron, nyc

"just tango" from Travis in Buffalo, NY

2007-12-07T12:20:00.001-08:00

just tango

Her body moves like silk over me,

around and through me.

There is quiet conversation between

us no one will ever hear, the sweetest words the world will ever know. 

Forbidden lyrics of our lives.

Words of longing, desperation, of lust and love, of hate and desire...the words burning like candles into our fingertips, into our shadows, into our sweat, into our longing.

Our bodies melting into each other...

And we embrace. 

She dances as if to live, and I dance to keep her alive.  Her leg slides naked to the air,

and then rests, waiting.

...and here I hold her, as if floating, tenderly, closely, precisely careless. 

Our embrace. Our dance. Our moment. Our urgent romance.

Speaking silently in closeness, our embrace of passion,  of desire, our gaze, our conversation. 

No words... 

just tango.

Travis Michael Widrick

Charlie Tango Whiskey Zulu

2007-12-07T02:02:00.001-08:00

Charlie Tango Whiskey Zulu

When the radio operators wanted to be very clear

just what letter they were describing,

They would say Charlie for "C"

Tango for "T"

Each letter had its own code,

its own demonstration of fullness

Clarity, conciseness, diction unfailing

In time of war,

the radio operator had to untrick the ear,

unstumble it from the thicket of sounds

easily confused on the vibrating drum of ears,

as likely to misunderstand as comprehend.

Because many things in this listening world

are ripe for misunderstanding.

Is that not a beautiful expression on the tongue?

Thinking of my tango dancing girl in the land of Argentina

December 7, 2007

Diane

DREAM TANGO in PORTLAND

2007-12-06T14:40:00.001-08:00

Hooded in moist steel skies,

Flickers of sunlight, flashes of awe,

Red strands amidst moss green,

Water, fall, foliage,

Where the Columbia confidently

Embraces the Willamette.

-Boyle

Rondo of Mysterious Beauty

2007-11-19T21:13:00.001-08:00

"for robertrx"

In grandeur the earth beneath you sweeps

While I stand embarrassed. Terror's cheap

But at mine you offer silver-gilt to gently mirror

Our close red room's soft amusement at my error,

A lack of grace that stings the sensitive to weep.

Yet grace with you is not so rare. It seeps

From chest to breast, infuses bone, flows deep

To call your swinging breath's long signal clearer.

In grandeur the earth beneath you sweeps.

You dance hard parlous near to faith, which sleeps

Alone. In New York the price of self-belief runs steep:

Yes, stammer then to stumble -- that's my horror.

Still, by a whisper, you draw me nearer:

"No fault tango," you smile with mercy free, not cheap.

In grandeur the earth beneath you sweeps.

-- femfatalatron, nyc

TANGO ECHO

2007-10-17T15:30:00.001-07:00

TANGO ECHO

Quick and agile - dancing Ducaties,

Beginner’s eager embrace,

Lothario’s practiced moves.

Moments lingering for days-

Ghost dances.

-Boyle

The Immigrants' Tango

2007-10-08T21:29:00.000-07:00

Sitting amongst refrains of nostalgia
rooted in past shadows
A walled flower
waiting

Eyes meet,
in trespass or invitation?
Her vined legs unwind
from the seat of familiar
Uprooted

Facing,
With one arm they embrace,
their other stop-sign hands clasp
marking a joined border
of resistance

Transplanted onto this dance floor
soiled with memories,
they negotiate the boundary
of their new, shared space
With each haunting call of the bandoneon,
compelling their circling steps
into now

The insinuating rhythm
unites them with one pulse
and yet
the eternal push, pull
hiding, enfolding
Clinging to the music's strains
drawing them together, apart
this tensile arrival, separation
never quite pausing
in past or future

Just a timeless heartbeat
of sinewed silence
before the music propels them on
Moving as one,
the dancers seek freedom
through their locked embrace,
escape without departure
Echoing the bandoneon's pull, push
Leaving, returning
Mourning, uniting

Into a finale flourish.
Then the tango begins anew.
(dimly remembered past seasons
litter their feet)
yet they dance on
singing for freedom
calling for home

- Vanessa Winn

Tango Night

2007-10-04T18:52:00.001-07:00

I don't care about my reputation

what I care about is

shoulders down

heels to the ground

head erect and

core tight.

I don't care what eyes may see

what I care about is

relaxation

intuition

arms embracing

in the night.

Read what you want to

into the slow sweep

of legs around legs, of heels across floor.

For a vision of what's inside me,

forget your hesitation

forget what hesitation's for.

I don't care about the morning after

what I care about is

passions spent

comfort lent

moments in darkness

that feel like light.

October 2007

Jennifer Brandlon

Shoes

2007-08-28T09:28:00.001-07:00
AOL Email

Shoes

When I can no longer dance,

May my shoes continue on.

May they please someone

As they've pleased me

And remind her that I've gone.

May they glide with her across the floor

In arms so soft and warm,

May compliments be sent her way

Of their beauty, grace and charm.

May she care for them as I would do

If time had just stood still.

May she pass them along when she moves on

So our dance will be eternal.

Polly McBride

July 2007

TANGO ECHO

2007-08-24T10:30:00.000-07:00

INSTRUMENTS OF PLEASURE / FOLLOWERS OF DELIGHT

2007-08-03T13:47:00.000-07:00
Leads in tango are searchers, like musicians,
Who have to find their instruments each evening.
Monkish in dark clothes, seeking insight and inspiration,
They gather in twilight, on well-worn wood, to punctuated melodies.
Followers,
How does it feel to have your body become music?
-Boyle

TANGO EXPOSED

2007-06-21T10:43:00.000-07:00
This walk, a pivot, a pause,
This meditative movement,
This indulgent endeavor;
Why do we surrender to it?
To bring forth the subterranean,
To reveal to the near-distant dawn,
To the always watching community
Who know us better than our confessor?
-Boyle

Carlos

2007-06-11T09:46:00.001-07:00

CARLOS

A man dancing Tango -

do you want me to tell his age?

Look at his slow, soft, tender movements

drawing strong, loving, burning pictures

of lived passion

on the floor.

Bringing memories to life:

-         tenthousand hours of experienced love

-         valleys darkened by the bitter flood of disappointment

-         a field of roses smelling the hope of fulfillment.

Leading the female

his sensual hands are taking care of

to its longing, proud, supple singing,

becoming one movement

of desire.

This man is as young as love.

Maria

Ten Tango Haiku

2007-06-05T15:08:00.001-07:00

Ten Tango Haiku

By Kyoko Richter (translated by Fred Richter)

Dancing the tango on a spring day,

Blond hair

Flowing over her shoulders.

Off with sneakers,

On with dance shoes

Lilacs in bloom around the house.

A chill on the lilacs

A small first step
On a night of tango.

Slender shoulders on a

Hazy spring night

Tango music.

The spring moon, faint --

Hand in hand

Toward the moving circle of dancers.

Last night's tango music

Still in my ears:

Picking flowering salad greens.

Columbine buds

Pointing toward the heavens

Young girls dancing.

Deep spring --

Two women

Dance the tango!

Outside,

Tango music behind,

The scent of roses.

Almost summer

A small room,

The quick beat of the milonga.

Little black dress

2007-05-31T10:10:00.000-07:00
You made a big impression
With a dress of that size.
Many it would fit
But few could wear it.
You met each gaze with confidence,
The men drawn, the women wary.
This provocative sheath,
Captivated those following its dance;
Your lingering image,
My troubling mind.
-Boyle

Broken hearts mend with Tango

2007-05-24T22:28:00.000-07:00

Broken hearts mend with Tango

Come to me

Hold my hand in yours

Hold me close

Let my heart feel your heart beat

Hold me close and pause a moment

Let's get centered

Let's feel the moment

Hold me close

Let me touch your heart

Your heart, broken maybe, tender, and vulnerable

My heart, too, broken, tender, and vulnerable

Let's keep them open

Hold me close

Pause a moment, let's get centered

Let's get in the moment

Hear the music?

Let's connect

Let's walk

Let's Tango

Talk to me not with your words

But

With your chest and your heart

I'll respond

Not with words

But

With my

Soft or a quick snap of a Boleo

You'll know I heard you

You'll know I felt you

You'll know I'm with you

I'll respond

With my

Crusada

You'll know I heard you

You'll know I felt you

You'll know I'm with you

With

Our sweaty palms

   Drenched faces

And throbbing heartbeat

I know you are there

I know you hear me

I know you feel me

I know our hearts are connected

I know we are dancing as one

And I know it is only you and I

Floating and lost in the moment

You know

And

I know

At least for this dance, at this moment, it is only you and I

Alone, here and now

I'm hooked

This moment is the answer to the

Broken heart

I don't want it to stop

Let's dance one more time

Come to me

Hold me close

Let our hearts melt together

Let our hearts mend

At least for one more dance

Questions of a heart just opening

2007-05-21T15:53:00.001-07:00
Are you ready
To touch your vulnerable heart?
To listen to its hoping beat?
To let it stay alive
In a time showing hopelessness?
Do you caress its feelings
Even when you can't allow
YourSelf to express them?
Are you strong enough
Not again to reject
Its pounding desire?
Are you courageous enough
To keep its precious door open
In spite of the hurt
That once extinguished
All light in your eyes?
Are you grown up now
To allow it to stay open?
Because once it has been touched
It wants to look
At all delicate surrounding beauty
With its tender eyes.
Do you believe in your own truth
Not condemning the ones
Who have to protect themSelves
For survival?
Can you stay the loneliness
That sometimes follows honesty?
Can you be with the Joy
Your body remembers
Once having been
In desiring, radiant, explosive
Connection?
Do you trust life
That it will happen again?
Can you take your heart
Into your own tender hands
Comforting it
For not feeling fulfilled
Its longing loving?
Are you ready
To embrace the world
Without having human hands
To hold you?
Are you trustful
To share your thoughts and feelings
By just offering them?
Can you enjoy all the moments
Being with yourSelf and themSelves?
Can you offer your presents
Being content
That they are taken
Just with thankfulness?
Can you bear that
Your heart's endless tender universe
IS TOUCHED BY EVERYONETHING?
You have arrived
YOU ARE READY FOR (LOVE) TANGO
. . . Maria Stoecker, May 2007

CONDOR

2007-03-09T14:18:00.001-08:00
Bald pink, ruffled collar
In tango black-
Elegantly ugly.
Above the seal-cliffs of Big Sur,
Non-violent,
Non-vegetarian,
Buddhists of flight.
With that first step
A long power glide,
A tight smooth giro,
Interpreters of air pressure-
Music with a patient beat.
-MikeBoyle #end

tango tribe

2007-03-06T09:46:00.001-08:00
Tango Tribes
Close embrace-
That dancing beast of two backs
Where a serene smile
Goes unobserved by her partner.
This intimacy withers beyond the frame.
It is enough to acknowledge dance's hierarchy
Of competitive/cooperative Jets and Sharks,
Not to lament it,
Even Dante and Beatrice
Explored a stratified paradise.

Last Tango

2007-01-23T04:12:00.002-08:00
After our sluggish dance on
An out of state floor,
I glide now among The remnants
Of joy and jealousy -No one to offer
My stolen moves,
No one to return to.
These moth-wings try to
Lead me to a fading flame
But my partner seeks another.
In your absence I've lost weight
And gained sleep- A foretaste of
My waiting death.
--Mike Boyle, Nov 2006

Joined Bodies

2007-01-23T04:11:00.001-08:00
1.)
my blood feels like honeysweetly oozing through my bodyevery moment is savoredevery breath is a centuryevery heartbeat a nectary yeara year filled with moonlightbathing our joined bodiessunlight filters throughdusty morning airand ambrosial dreamsa year of Valentines daysand every instinctive stepevery unconstrained movementfreezes my lacy nervesand strikes my fragile skin aflamein an incomparable and new waytime tested, yet freshevery time
2.)
my steps are silk ribbonswoven togethergently and passionately placedupon a rough wood floorbraided and twistedthrough the thoughts of my leaderwe dance like there is no timelike there never was
--Michelle Hager, Bozeman, MT, 2006