Crank those rap rhymed digital tunes,
make the bass thunder while Shady croons,
throw down with white-boy ghetto moves,
slice the floor with James Brown grooves,
and rise, dance nation.
March until the world feels your synchronized vibration.
Stomp and shudder and spinning pivot,
dig your heel until you make a righteous divot.
Flay, play, and pass through the fire,
style each turn and the watching world inspire.
Soldier march and fly-girl shake,
child twist and together make the planet quake,
slow motion step or flash like lightening,
demonstrate your theater with skill freaked and frightening.
Rise, dance nation.
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Hi Tim - Thank you for this lively jazzy poem. Yes, indeed, it has rhythm. Please note: The next to last entry, in my opinion, is flat in contrast to the rest of the poem. ### I appreciate this piece that says, "Zesty."
Sandra, Do you mean the "freaked and frightening" line? If so, it was my attempt at a sort of Impressionism--the dance leaves on-lookers in shock and awe. If not, please pardon my assumption or misread. I quite appreciate your reading the piece and commenting on it! Thank you.