Friday Night Therapy (Edit)

Friday Night Therapy

 

 

 

How I've missed the marvel

of music  

meshing with movement,

the kinetic                     

               connection   of   body,

emotions, and beats

of bass

and feats  with twists,  

 

fast or slick

to lift my spirit complete

of depth...

it is like relief            

spelled  in  sweat

               like therapy        

of a Friday night    

without the  s e x

or pretense of fellatio purposes

               of pensive precursors' kneads

 

it is just           

the samba       

               sounds  of my drum-rolling heart           

and the trance mix  (in a bubble)

in my chest

                transfixed     

to forget the heavy strings

pulling      my life, 

 

this way   that way

Eastwood,  Adam's West

there, everywhere,           

their say   -  double edge sword's blade

           not by choice ; but now in this

my place of loud solace (electronics emoted)

the oceanic zest

of life

 

I control            

my body's voice in dancing      

dallops

and rejoice me,    myself , and the white noise

 

a few hours in a laser     

tryst

in itself  my only bliss & relief

                how I marvel what I miss...

 

In this delight - this dance of wight,

I am completely myself,

while outside--the wranglng world--not myself

             confessions with it's catharsis' sight

in it's free

psychology .... a session to just be

released

spirit & flesh in symbiosis

              a friday night's therapy

how I marvel to never miss...

 

 

Reviews

[Jane Doe]

I absolutely loved, loved the entire poem, but these lines in particular were brilliant:

'it is like relief

spelled in sweat

like therapy

of a Friday night

without the s e x

or pretense of fellatio purposes

of pensive precursors' kneads'

A wonderfully electric, delightful piece. I love what you did with the placement of the stanzas. As a lover of music I can relate to the catharsis that music provides, though I was never much of a dancer as I when I attempted to dance, before the pain got too bad, it more resembled a grand mal seizure than anything else.

Another superlative poem!

[Penny Ellen]

Especially love "oceanic zest"... fills me with the kind of freedom you must be talking about.
:)