Friday, November 11, 2005

Táncház

The feet were thumping.
The floorboards were cracking.
The music was wooing everyone to give in and join the circle of people passionately moving.
The eyes were gleaming.
The heads were turning.
The feet were thumping.
The only light that stayed lit showed the air swiftly glowing.
The skirts were flying.
The men were sweating.
The instructions were compelling every idle foot to move quickly and rhythmically.
The sound was deafening.
The mood heightened with every foot thumping.

The girls were singing.
The boys were dancing.
The pairs were kissing.
The music was never ending.
The beers were flowing.
The mood was unchanging.
The world seemed healing.
The words were moving.
The eyes were gleaming.
The heads were turning.
The skirts were flying.
The men were sweating.
The feet were thumping.
The speed was continuing.
The passion was rising.
The singing was louder.
The dancing was faster.
The singing was louder.
The music was faster.
The singing was louder.
The THUMPING was ending.

The fog was descending.
The memory was fading.
The passion was burning.
The mist was hanging.
The lights were reflecting.
The sweat was drying.
The music was ending.
The air was cooling.
The river was flowing.
The whimsical night was descending.

1 comment:

Jenz Steiner said...

The style of the poempoem is similar to my work. I like it alot.
Jenz