Angel Dancer Poem by Hugh Cobb

Angel Dancer

Rating: 3.1


Look longingly,
eye on the prize,
distant horizon; whatever...
it is not enough to have
desire burning in your heart,
your loins aching for another...
what then does pain add
to th'equation? ? It is rooted
in trauma of forgotten years
now nightmares remember'd.
Stumbling towards
a new epiphany,
recognition of the Goddess
who inhabits you &
who you most truly are,
your tenderness makes
pain so fresh & new
it hurts just to think about it:
to remember movie images
slide show multimedia playing
in flickers your childhood shame...
Do not fear memory, let it go
release the pain in tears
in poetry any way you can.
Hold that wounded child.
Heal her. Embrace her tenderly
& let her know she is strong enough,
good enough & she deserves:
just because she is...
& so do you:
angel dancer
spinner of light
mistress of the cool, dark night.
Hold th'evening star in hand,
lead singer of th'angel band,
dancing in a circle
you open your arms & embrace
a glittering, velvet expanse of sky...

(Copyright 11/21/05)

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Joyce Chelmo 20 April 2006

Being a former dancer I was drawn in by the title. A friend of your recommended I visit your work, and I'm not sorry. Some of your words could have been about me. There always seems to be damage that leads to this career.. wonderful to read from the other side of the lights. Red

1 0 Reply
Gregory Gunn 22 February 2006

Dear Hugh, Unfortunately, I have known a few woman who were wounded in one way or another in childhood, one who succumbed to pain, yet another who not only survived her ordeal, but miraculously shines radiantly like a high magnitude star. This truly touched a sensitive nerve in me. Once again Hugh, one more in the series of wonderful Cobbian poems. I've yet to be disappointed. I would recommend 'One a Day Hugh' multi-vitamin for anybody at this site. Warmest regards, Gregory

1 0 Reply
Joseph Daly 06 December 2005

You do this free verse so well Hugh. This conjures up many images and there is a feel that a dialect exists in which sleaze (sorry but that seems to come across to me) combines with real beauty. I think it is the title that gives me that impression.

1 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success