Dancing with the Moon: Poems of the Heart is a collection of seventy-six love poems. These poems express the passions that animate the phases of intimate relationship in two spiraling narrative cycles. The first cycle moves from new moon to full, then wanes to new moon's darkness again; the second cycle echoes the first, but rises.
The first begins with sections for the excitement of attraction, then connection, then deep satisfaction (They Play, I Try; A Sleepless Sense of Found; Who Loves You Not), only to devolve into tribulation, separation, and ultimately, despair and regret (Our Time Has a Tick; You Are Leaving; Love’s Lost Demesne). But then the cycle starts over again (What Are We?): it has returned to its starting place, but now is on another plane.
Sections for new attraction and new connection culminate in the joy of marriage (Yours the New Smile; You Move Me; The World Knows Its Meaning (In a Marriage Such as Ours); You Rhyme Every Sound). However—yes, marriage, too, has its own profound trials (Broken Valentine), and these do not magically, romantically dissolve. But they do finally resolve into mature, reality-based fulfillment—The Very Best Part.
Dancing with the Moon: Poems of the Heart is a collection of seventy-six love poems. These poems express the passions that animate the phases of intimate relationship in two spiraling narrative cycles. The first cycle moves from new moon to full, then wanes to new moon's darkness again; the second cycle echoes the first, but rises.
The first begins with sections for the excitement of attraction, then connection, then deep satisfaction (They Play, I Try; A Sleepless Sense of Found; Who Loves You Not), only to devolve into tribulation, separation, and ultimately, despair and regret (Our Time Has a Tick; You Are Leaving; Love’s Lost Demesne). But then the cycle starts over again (What Are We?): it has returned to its starting place, but now is on another plane.
Sections for new attraction and new connection culminate in the joy of marriage (Yours the New Smile; You Move Me; The World Knows Its Meaning (In a Marriage Such as Ours); You Rhyme Every Sound). However—yes, marriage, too, has its own profound trials (Broken Valentine), and these do not magically, romantically dissolve. But they do finally resolve into mature, reality-based fulfillment—The Very Best Part.
Overture
Dancing with the Moon
For three score years and more
I’ve been dancing with the moon,
answering her tide-pull on my heart
with my homing hopes and pen.
With these words upon the page
I have tracked its arcs of wonderment.
I have thrilled to the lift of that
first wave of attraction.
I have felt its promise slip away
or buoy me with new connection.
And then, oh then, the satisfaction,
the years of recording the bounty swells
beneath her blessèd call—
only to know again the lash
of storm and break-up, after all.
Thrown once more into the thrashing roil,
I seize some flotsam in desperation
and drift, clinging to memories and regret.
I pray for rescue. And yet, I write.
Once the sea has calmed after wreckage
and the boiling clouds have cleared,
and I have spied some solid land,
a new captivation beckons from the strand.
My pen reckons once again with hope
and the cycle begins anew. New promises
are filled or unfulfilled, new relationships
enjoyed and then dissolved, until
the one.
Here the journey finds its homeland.
Here a haven holds my thankful habitation.
With new stanzas I exult in the sacrament
ultimate. Storms still batter, yes. But even
in the howling night I still can see the beacon.
I still know the reason why I married,
and in the light of the goddess moon, I dance.
We dance.
They Play, I Try
Mirrors of Duet : They Play
she holds off
head tilt eyeshade and curiosity
dis stance sing
he bolds on
voice lilt smile and hopeful mimery
into it ing
they play they may
take it to the hilt if she feels
does wonders he
Mirrors of Duet : He’s Tall
He’s tall,
dark,
well,
he’s just barely handsome,
hair thick and trying to be—
full frame but not quite— .
He moves over
right next
then . . .
With a smile he mimes lighting
the Fantasy Lucky she raises to her lips.
She takes a long deep and lifts her chin.
The jazz moves her elbow, and
she nudges into his must
be made of light and honey,
so bright his eyes . . .
So,
hi’s,
and, yes, she thinks she
could just float and sink and—
How far?
Just—
How long?
Could—
Would he be
as gentle as sighs and so strong,
as sure as time and so good,
as suave and slow and—
She takes another drag.
Mirrors of Duet : The Dream Tears Free
She’s seated alone for two drinks now;
he’s seated alone for who knows how many.
He decides it all rides on being bold.
A mindform is born of one light touch
of elbows and eyes caught
in the mirror behind the bar.
He shifts and smiles,
the ice breaks,
the smile takes,
the heart flies
and aches . . .
So strong are the forlorn years,
the dream tears free.
How far?
How long?
Whose car . . .
He orders another marguerita.
Mirrors of Duet : Hipsmoove
The Prince of Denmark’s dead.
The actors have got their notes,
and I’m sat here with Margarita.
The bass poons cool in the jazz
with piano.
“Martini bianco,”
she smooths in her foreign voice;
the bartender’s never heard.
“But they have them in the Netherlands.”
Our eyes meet in the mirror
behind the bar, a wary depth
in how she raises her regard chin,
a counterpoint to how she turns
her body towards me,
hipsmoove as bass lines . . .
I might be falling in.
Mirrors of Duet—Coda : Only These If-Onlys
Were you just two weeks here from Amsterdam?
Around the rim of a maelstrom I spin.
I dream of falling in, of following you—
but such dares make for dizzy disaster.
Looking back that long halfmoon’s passage,
its tide’surge waves of hands and lips
slip down shores of daze desire and riptide out.
The swell heaves open the heart we shared,
bares it to the storm. Now the moon’s ink
tears these pages with its savage pen,
leaving only these if-onlys.
When You Return
To what enflighted species are we tied, then,
to circle thus at such close distances,
and yet to wait?
When you return from all the ’motions that you’ve tried,
will we meet again in the middle air
and finally alight?
Who?
Who am I?
Just a friend who walks the Benny dog,
a free ticket to the plays,
and someone to pay for dinner?
Who are you?
Now you’ve kissed me me more than twice,
do you too fly some dream
beyond a short and sweet “Good night”?
Who are we?
Could we ride our limbs to pleasure sation,
tie our lives to hope, and find
the full fill and meant for—?
She’s A Sword Dancer
She’s a Sword Dancer.
Join her. But beware!
She wields bright cold flame
with her arms in arcs
in acts of self-attentive love.
Her feet sweep, too,
until you totter like a top
and spill into the
quick cut.
You can’t watch your step with her.
You must come into the tango
with your feet skin-shod,
your eyes unhypnotized
by the blade. Then dance
so hard your soles rise up
from the ground-bound floor—
but no more!
Or . . .
But—
Dancing with the Moon: Poetry of the Heart is a collection of 76 heartfelt poems related to romance and relationships. In his work, Steven Davison explores the delights of falling in love and creating intimacy. The work then takes a turn to look at the flip side of love when it starts to unravel and fall apart.
The opening poem, Dancing with the Moon, gives a sense of the changing mood that is to come. It foretells the difficult relationship with writing: the commitment to it, the struggling through it, and the eventual acceptance of what the relationship is.
As the poems progress, the earlier ones appear more fanciful. They toil with the idea of intimate liaisons, be it a wander from a jazz bar to the car, or the development of a casual friendship. All the while, the moon is kept as a fairly central theme that crops up in the different works as a sensual being.
We amble slowly and usually talk
to pause among the rocks and
Blueming irises. It is early even now.
There are some poems that are eye-catching for various reasons. As with the extract above, there are unusual spellings that provide a unique take on the stanza. Equally there are some curious layouts for the poems that convey a sense of pace to read at. These features are a great addition to the poetry as each piece already has a polished feel and works hard to evoke several senses at once. The polished feel is also achieved via connectivity. Common imagery crops up, fog, hearts, eyes, smiles. It’s not noticeable at first, but as the reading persists the reader’s relationship deepens with each of these concepts as they become more familiar with them. It makes the book seem as though it has been staged and arranged in this way deliberately.
The book is suited to a mature audience with a literary love. The poems are complex and not intended to rush through. With each reading of each work, more and more can be pulled from the text upon which to reflect. Though they are not explicit in nature, nor do they use profanities, they take a worldly-wise look at relationships and explain them in an intricate way that is difficult for younger audiences to process. This is a book to be devoured over time. The collection itself is great value for money, but reading all at once feels like a heavy burden.