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The website Hello -- Poetry has published a poem titled Dirty Dancing. The poet is Sean Banks, who describes himself as follows:
Vancouver Island. Bukowski Like Cynic A Buddhist with the Blues An Old Soul and a New age Hippy Long hair, don't care freedom - yet cautious and careful for personal reasons A Future Spiritual leader of Humanity Dealing with issues in Narcissism and Regret.The website has published 58 of Banks' poems, including Dirty Dancing.
The baseline throbbed======
And the chorus echoed
With liquid confidence
And a substance filled mind
As I approached from behind
I put my right hand on her hip
My left hand clinching my pabst
She turn around and said,
“I thought you were going grab my ass”
I spoke no words, just grinned
She smiled
I hadn’t had this much confidence
in a long while.
She whipped her hair and my heart went wild
“Do you want do dance with me?”
She whispered in my ear
I placed my other hand on her hip
My beer hit the floor
I whispered back
“That and so much more”
“I want to move
And make time stand still
I want you to whimper at my will
And rise to my roar”
“I want to show you how good I am with
My words
And my hands
And my tongue
And my lungs”
“I want to show you the world
I want to paint portraits of mountains
Before climbing them
And from mountain tops I want to
Draw the sky
I want our eyes
To gaze at the stars within us”
“I want to learn everything about you
As I show you everything I am”
“I want to dance for you
As you dance for me”
We danced all evening
And due to my success on this night
It was the highest I had ever been.
The website Poetry Soup has published a poem titled Dirty Dancing. The poet is Lin Lane. (The website does not provide any personal information about her.)
Summer vacation=======
romantic first love
Dirty Dancing to
great sixties music
The Time of My Life
Johnny Castle
Handsome dancer
These Arms of Mine
Baby's Love Man
Hungry Eyes
water lifts
Cry To Me
Yearning
for love
Sigh ~
The website Tinderbox Poetry has published a poem titled River Pitch. The poet is Jennifer Givhan.
Givhan was a 2010 Pen Rosenthal Emerging Voices Fellow, as well as a 2011 St. Lawrence Book Award finalist and a 2012 Vernice Quebodeaux Pathways Prize finalist for her poetry collection Red Sun Mother. She was also an Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize finalist for her poetry collection Karaoke Night at the Asylum. She is an MFA candidate at Warren Wilson College, and her work has appeared or is forthcoming in over fifty journals and anthologies, including Best New Poets 2013, Indiana Review, Prairie Schooner, Rattle, cream city review and The Los Angeles Review. She teaches composition at Western New Mexico University.
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| Jennifer Givhan |
But you fractured your hipbone
falling for a boy who danced
you into thirteen jagged pieces, lace
tunic over leggings, the lank trunk
of your newly teenaged body fast-pitching
you forward, as if trying to ruin
each fine and breakable thing, the ruins
of your body’s handiwork, reduced to bone
shards. No, Mama had said when you’d pitched
a fit. You’re too young for prom. Dance
in the living room.
.............. You’d plumbed her attic trunk
of moth-chewed costumes, lining the lace
of her wedding dress against the laced
bobbin of her old sewing machine, ruining
both, your zigzag stitches like rings in a trunk,
attaching branches of bodice, boned
at the buds of your breasts, twins dancing
across your chest, ready to pitch
through the bathroom window into pitch
black night with the boy who’d interlace
them, promising your first dance
but first, who’d stop at the bosque to ruin
a bottle of his father’s wine, bone-
dry under a blanket in the trunk.
How did you end in a river, his boxers for trunks,
your skin for a bathing suit, the pitch
of your voices and the waves echoing a boned-
hollow of the absent music, laced
with regret. I’ll make up for ruining
your night, he’d said. Let’s dance
here, in the water, like Baby in Dirty Dancing.
Once, you read someone found in a tree trunk
a set of human teeth while mining the ruined
coast after a hurricane. The pitch
of a quarry is the softest place—
its density of childhood bones,
corkscrew bones, forks in a river dancing
while a boy laces a willing trunk
with the pitch and fury of rock toward ruin.
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The blog Free to Exhale Again has published a poem titled Dirty Dancing: Poem 5. The poet and blog author calls herself Reign Supreme, and she describes herself as follows:
I've learned to accept and love myself for me. To be happy with my flaws and all. To live MY life for me and not what others expect.
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| Reign Supreme |
You're my Patrick
I'm Jennifer
Ecstasy
Cloud 9
I waited
waited to
inhale
exhale
Release
the time of my life
A connection was made
Again
No longer longing
Dirty Dancing
and I am having the time of my life
through it all.
You are my Patrick
My Louie
better yet
modern Malcolm X
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The blog Political Verses has published a poem titled Dirty Dancing with the Stars: A Poem about Tom DeLay. The poet and blog author is Elaine Magliaro.
I worked as an elementary school teacher for more than three decades and as a school librarian for three years. I also taught a children's literature course at Boston University from 2002-2008. I served on the advisory board of the Keene State College Children’s Literature Festival from 2006-2008 and as a member of the NCTE Poetry Committee from 2009-2012. I am now retired and write poetry for children. "Things to Do," my first children's book, will be published by Chronicle Books in February of 2017.
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| Elaine Magliaro |
He’s a “Wild Thing” that’s for sure!
Watch him dance across the floor.
“The Hammer” shakes his aging booty
While cha-cha-ing with a dark-haired beauty.
Wearing a sequined vest, silk blouse …
Dressed all in brown, this slick-haired louse
Looks like a feral chocolate bunny.
It’d sure be sad if it weren’t so funny!
Still a "Wild Thing" at his age,
Tom should be locked up in a cage …
And not out dancing with the stars —
But stuck behind some iron bars!
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