Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category



I contemplate the way to go; to steep my soul in bushido?

Leave the pattern of the dance; and give another part a chance?

To grow in this; I must do and need,  leave behind the tangeuro-

For some time, no backward glance, not knowing if I can advance.

To have the both would be ideal, feed both lover and warrior.

And be by this the better man, the one who does, because he can.

No one can make this choice for me;  of my own soul be the quarrier.

One wonders: From the pan into fire, or from fire to the pan?

Perhaps I’ll find a middle way; that gives both room for  fight and play.

And thus to find myself again;  a plan for life that works for good;

Be not consumed; yet be serious –  the best for me, but not halfway.

And find herein the fruit of this:   I will walk  and stand the way I should.


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Vals sin palabras


A cabaceo, at first. (which is how these things start),

And a nicely done vals.   She settled in; the abrazo close.

Then the tanda had ended; so thus we started to part.

She touched though my arm; it seemed she had chose

To favor me yet.   Once more for us; both music and art.


No touching that connection;  the finest you’d find. 

The thoughts in her heart spoke by the look in her eyes.

I ventured to ask her name, for I thought she’d not mind….


But I quickly perceived there I had made a faux pas;                                                                       

That by asking for her name I was not quite so wise.                        

The reasoning is complex; but basically it’s because 


that  by speaking those words, I had broken that trance.                                            

Though I did get her name, …so now I’m  still sure I’ll find              

That vals sin palabras, and a new chance to dance!

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Sarabande of Lost Time


A cabaceo: Just an invitation to the gift.
And that is all, a trance for two. No more.
The tanda ends; and the partners shift.
Time both lost and gained upon the floor.
Our hearts are grounded; we are not adrift.
Dance we do; with all and different kinds!
Oh, how I long again for the time of June;
The summer breeze, and the harbor winds.
At the Broadway Pier; our place of fun!
This open place; with streetlight and moon….
Oh, to dance once more with my favored one!
And thus I pour my heart out in this rhyme;
Your pardon, please, as this verse is done:
This sweet sarabande, dear, of our lost time.

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Streetlight Dreams*

A cabaceo first, then followed a dance;
She said: I thank you. The cortina short.
How dreamy! Thought I. …I made my plans
to ask again. Months flew. And I sort
of liked her, too! (not always so). A tanda
is so brief. And not a chat – no way to find
her soul for real; if only this was a way you could!
The dancer knows, does not need the remind;
that we play with strut and twirl and walk;
boys and girls making merry, and as we should.
But there are times how we walk is a way to share.
In the world of dance, all is not as it seems.
Find fault if you must, but I hope to find her there;
beneath the streetlight, with music and dreams.

*one of our local milongas is called “the Streelight Milonga” because it is out of doors, under the street lights.

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Haiku #23

Departure from Buenos Aires

My Buenos Aires…
The city of such extremes.
Another tanda?

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Haiku # 34

Buenos Aires rain
A soft and constant drizzle
cadence of thunder.

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Like any other city, she never shows you the same face twice. New cafe’s at the sites of those I knew. It seems that San Telmo is getting “cleaned up” in some respects, but this seems to take away from its charm. The exchange rate is favorable, but some prices have gone up as well. I am the only resident at my guesthouse. Last year I had companeras from the guesthouse for practice and to go to milongas with, but not this time. The plus side, though, is that I have the practice floor to myself. I have made email contact with a prospective practice and class partner whom I meet Domingos at Viruta’s. Yesterday, a partial day in the city, I went shopping for food, got a laptop adaptor, and got new dance shoes. I also managed to get lost on the subway, and find my way home again as well; a necessary exercise. Last night I simply crashed and made up the sleep lost on my red-eye flight. Today: The San Telmo antique and flea market, and steak later. Then, a milonga 🙂 this evening.

In the Atlanta departure lounge I had a conversation with an IT guy coming down here, his significant other, a Doctor, dances tango in Atlanta. He had the “assignment” of seeking out milongas to improve his dancing. He related how he had to figure out that his pre-dance naivete was incorrect in so many ways, as he had to initially accept her dancing with others, and then move to wanting to dance well himself.

Springtime in Buenos Aires

Never the same face
Like a lady in that way
But still so charming.

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