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Sunday, 3 July 2011

Sunday Swap: This Old Dancer



Nomar Knight is a writer, a poet, and a dancer. He has the soul of a true artist: he lives and breathes his stories and his passions, veering ever-so-slightly into the dark side of art.

When I read Nomar’s beautiful poem Shall We Dance, I was inspired to ask him if he could describe how he felt when he was dancing. Somewhere along the way, poetry and dance got wired in his brain, so he came up with an answer that rhymed. Being an aspiring poet myself, I was captivated and awed by his passion on stage, and on the page.

So we made a deal to swap poems on this lazy Sunday. And while the initial idea was to engage in a virtual dance on each other’s blogs, I somewhat veered off course and witnessed a murder on his.

Gotta love our dynamic.



This Old Dancer
by Nomar Knight

Been tested since I was king
Stepped with trepidation in a ring
Hopped and skipped to the beat
No longer squirming in a seat
I still got it though it seems
Slow and refined reliving dreams

May not bounce on my knees for long
But I can groove to that old song
Better than anyone expected
Laughter and cheers again infected
Shock and awe came back at me
Living proof dance sets one free

Hip hoppety don't stoppety
That little voice is shouting at me
What do you think you're doing
Forget about the crowd wooing
You're old and can't move anymore
An early grave you're looking for

Ride the cheers embrace the fame
Don't think this will come again
I'm glad I got one final chance
Because I know I was born to dance
And now a new generation could see
Just how much music means to me

This old dancer will always groove
Even if it's just my head that moves
The beat goes on till the end of time
Now I'm master of rhythm and rhyme
Embracing changes is what life's about
Flaunt your stuff don't let the lights go out

3 comments:

Angela Wallace said...

What a fun idea. Both poems are great, and so are the pictures posted with them!

Lyn Midnight said...

Thanks, Angela. You're way too kind. :)

Orlando said...

Beautiful poem about life. Dancing is what we Latins do best, but getting old and not wanting to let go is the real dance, my friend.

Do not go gentle into that good night. Fight, fight against the dying of the light.