DancerShe moves in the shadows of the roomDancer6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Only lit by a single isolated candle
Her elegance is breath-taking
The way she flows through the dance
Her shadow follows
Matching the movements made by its partner
Together they dance a dance of grace
Emotion pours from her like rain
From every finger tip to every strand of her hair
That had fallen from the rest
Her toes tip
Her body arches
And she falls forward into a pit of misery
She twists and turns fighting her demons
Stretching out her arms
Straightening her legs
Moving with poise
She tries to control her raging motions
But they control her tonight
She stops slowly
She arches her spine
Throwing her shoulders back with ease
Her arm folds out
Reaching for something beyond her fingers
Something that her body craves
She turns suddenly
And runs through the black of the room
She flies through the darkness
She falls to the floor
And wraps her long elegant arms around her
Hiding her face with her hands
She sits still
The DancerThe Dancer2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You are an unidentifiable figure,
Flitting and twirling across the stage,
Lingering before the boundary of light and shadow,
Grinning as you watch those illuminated stumble.
The audience watches as you spin out past the curtain,
Oblivious to your secret life backstage.
Unable to hear the slander you whisper to your peers,
Engrossed only by the dancer onstage who trips.
The dancer flees the stage after her brief spell before the crowd,
Biting her fist to hold back her tears,
Having lost an opportunity to redeem herself,
Distracted by the escalating scandal among her company.
The dancer composes herself,
Ignoring the malicious glances cast toward her,
Pretending to be deaf to the hushed snickers,
Striding past in search of reconciliation.
The dancer finds you in the darkness,
Enveloped in the embrace of an unknown man,
Breathing promises of forever in his ear,
Charming him with your sweet smile and delicate touch.
The audience observes the dancer's elegant reentrance,
DancerLook! Even now her body speaks that ancient dialect of motionDancer2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she learned in her long ago, when her flesh was pliant, when
she could depend on her muscles, easily cultivating grace and flow.
She no longer dances publicly. She instructs and directs the company's
young dancers. She shares with them those physical arts of eloquence,
of gestural poignancy, the arts she's devoted her long career to perfecting.
You may have noticed how many dancers use this bar. She's here when
old friends are passing through. She sips demurely at her spritzer,
she wears her hair pulled back severely, an ascetic in the service of dance.
Her body disciplined too long for the frivolities of sensual pleasure.
Or Are We DancerOr Are We DancerOr Are We Dancer3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
No one had really known what to say.
It was an awkward moment when the team discovered their red-headed bro alone in the training room, dancing to a Spanish salsa.
Wally has always danced, and he thought he was pretty good. His mom had tried, when he was much younger, to put him in dance classes, but to no avail. At that age (or any age, I guess), no little boy liked feeling like a girl, and as the only boy in any dance class, that's exactly how he always felt. After the accident, when his uncle took him on as a protégé, Wally revisited dancing. Barry said it was training; that being able to dance would help him flow and move and even, no pun intended, be light on his feet. Like football players taking ballet.
The first class he took, classical dancing, was boring as hell and ended up being his favourite. He wasn't the only boy anymore; he made friends. Girls would clamour to be his partner for whichever dance they were learning next (at their age, the
The DancerHear me read itThe Dancer9 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The night I met Jessie she was beautiful. She swayed to the almost intolerably loud music as if her bones were made of it. She was something unknown. I remember the sharp cut of her hair had run across her cheek, parallel to her carved-out cheekbone. It looked like a wig, I wanted to touch it. I wanted to touch her, and see if she felt like plastic. Who could ever believe that someone so perfect could be so real. I regret that. I regret doubting her reality.
Eventually she bought me a drink; she called it an Appleté but trapped in the pulsating fuchsia lights of the club it looked purple. It tasted like jealousy; sour and eye watering. When I told her this she laughed a little, apparently she'd heard that one before. I drank it anyway. I wanted to slot into my assigned role in her fantastical world.
We talked a little. She served other men drinks. The ones in the shadows could have been my reflection. It was confusing. The
The Sky Dancer's Soda PopThe scent was deliciousThe Sky Dancer's Soda Pop4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Purple soda pop joys
inside a long-stemmed
She tip-toed delicately
upon the top
balancing in grace
like a sky-dancer
resting her shoes
Her long straw disappeared
into its violet depths
and she drank in delightfully
Her powdered wings fluttered
ever so slightly
and her head swam
in passionate pleasure
she leaps ever so
graciously and lightly
upon the air-
again, dancing in the sky.
Belly of the DancerBelly of the DancerBelly of the Dancer6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Belly dancing had been a hobby of Sheilas for many years. She had read every book and watched every tape on belly dancing. She even worked at a club that featured belly dancing as the main attraction. But that was six years ago.
Sheila was now working in a mall bookstore (Reading was another hobby of hers). Sheila had long, dark beautiful hair, and a gorgeous face to match. She was also 56 and had a tan complexion. She was 167 lbs heavier than she was six years ago. Now weighing in at about 300 lbs., her former famous belly sloshed past her thighs and almost past her knees (Her measurements were 72-89-98). She was so huge, that she could barely move behind the counter without her massive thunder thighs, butt, or big, round, gut knocking into something. Through it all, she didnt mind her weight. As long as she was reading and/or eating, she didnt care. She was happy, yet, she missed her career as a belly dancer.
One Thursday, a new s
Creepypasta DANCERI looked down at the screen of my DS resting in my hands. On it I could see the Gardevoir that I had just received in a trade. The slender Pokemon was rather beautiful and had an enchanting name to fit its grace. DANCER was its name. 'What a nice Pokémon,' I thought quietly to myself. While I was admiring the Gardevoir, my friend Alexandra started telling me about how she had obtained it. But I hardly paid her any attention. The only thing that mattered to me was winning the leader of the Pokémon fights type.Creepypasta DANCER3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I absently pretended to listen to her while I subtlety checked the Pokemon's statistics. I also looked for Gardevoir's description in the Pokedex, because I was curious as to what it would say.
The text scrolled across the screen. "To protect its trainer it uses all its psychic powers to create a small black hole."
Black hole? That really sounded awesome! I hastily investigated the list of moves it had. There were no moves with that name. What a real disappointment
BisexualI once knew a girl who was pretty in pinkBisexual7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she decided purple was more her color i think
She tried to hide her true self
by acting on the straight
And ignoring the rest
But the boys
They mistreated her
And ran her around
So she finally decided
That this life wasn't worth it
so she tried to die
But an angel stopped her
And in a whisper
Told her it was ok to be bi
And now she's happier
And excited to
She coming out
How about you?
Spanish Are Dancers(SpainxReader Oneshot)Antonio sat on his porch and sipped intently on a glass of red wine, much like he would do any other hot afternoon. But, this particular afternoon was special for you were at his home. You took chaste sips of your red wine and enjoyed the feel of the Spaniards near playful green eyes on your body.Spanish Are Dancers(SpainxReader Oneshot)2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Your home is so beautiful.. I'm so jealous." You said in a voice just above a whisper.
The passionate male beamed at your compliment before swiftly replying flirtingly, "Gracias mi amor ! But you are much more beautiful~."
You shot him a playful glare before looking down at the red liquid in your wine glass. You gave it a twirl before saying, "You lying Spaniard."
He chuckled as he scooted towards you with easy movement. Some of your (_h/c_) was tossed over your shoulder as hot lips came in soft contact with your neck. "Never," Another kiss to the neck was sent your way, "Would I lie about that~!"
You were sent into a giggle fit as he dug his face into your neck swee
Dying dancerSensually moving, carried by the windDying dancer1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Smooth and light like a feather
Reaching up, wishing to spread the wings
Drawing your eyes to the enchanting dance
Hypnotizing with every move
Leading your mind to the deepest trance
Sumptuously dressed in golden robes
Infinite and silky the dancer curves
Captivating and charming your inner thoughts
A veil of darkness brings the dancer to life
For darkness is the reason to dance
And dancing consumes both of your lives
The dancer wants to be free
Wants to elude that coming destiny
Wants to escape, jump high and flee
Soon the dancer will cease to exist
It will finally be free
And the flame on this candle forever will be extinct.
A Dancer's LoveA Dancer's Love3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter One: I Can Turn Back?
It's been seven years since Mytho and Rue went back into the story and Ahiru is still thinking about the dance she had with Fakir the night she couldn't get her pendant off. That warm smile he had given her while they were dancing. She couldn't get it off her mind or out of her dreams.
She was swimming on the pond again. She heard a sound of someone walking on the water behind her. She turned, thinking it was the prince again, but who she saw surprised her. Fakir was the one dancing on the pond. When she saw him smile at her, her heart leaped for some reason and she felt happy. She couldn't understand her feelings. "Oh, Fakir, how I wish to be with you. But I'm just a duck again." she thought sadly. Then suddenly a warm bright light shined over her and she glowed a white glow. She felt her body grow and her feathers vanish. She closed her eyes
Moon Dancer~~~ Moon Dancer ~~~Moon Dancer2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Written By: Donald Lewis
Since the names of Twilight's parents aren't specifically mentioned during "The Cutie Mark Chronicles" I went with the names listed on the My Little Pony Friendship is Magic Wiki. In the event their names are mentioned in future episodes I will edit the story accordingly. That being said, enjoy.
"No, no, no, no, no, NO!"
Books clattered to the floor as volume after volume ricocheted off the walls and furniture. Many of the large bookshelves stood bare, and the few that remained were quickly losing their contents. Through the window a glint of light began to break over the horizon, shooting a sliver of golden light into the study. As the beam worked its way across the room it came to rest on a very frustrated unicorn pony. The glinting dawn came across her s
The DancerA sweet wind played with her auburn hair as she released a sigh beneath her captive audience of stars. Here, across her moon lit stage of gleaming grass she could dance.The Dancer3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She took the smallest of steps; the gritty touch of the cool ground brought her feet delight as she hesitated for a moment. Enticed to the whims of an unforgotten song, every gliding step fading the world to a metronome's tock. Beneath her slowly moving audience she took sweeping spin after tight twirl to unheard crescendos and minuets. Until their pin prick lights departed beneath the sky scraper horizon.
She faltered as the red rising sun drew close her blue curtain, her soundless song coming to a jarring stop. Tears join the perspiration on her face as she collapses, exhausted. Falling among so many blades of grass, the cool earth soothing her aching body. Still the melody of so many songs she could not hear filled the silence that would not stop.
The Irish DancerWith whips and whirlsThe Irish Dancer7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And clips and curls
The dancer takes the scene
On toes, on flats
Each heel click-clacks
And the crowd cheers and screams
As your legs beat the stage
And you dance your aches away
The blood is pumping
Your pulse is jumping
And your breath will not breathe out
Your smile remains
And the crowd's noise gains
As you stand perfectly still
You've out done yourself
You've completed your task
Now to get off stage is all that you ask
But the crowd won't stop
And you fear your lungs might pop
But stand as a stone you wait
Just say the call
And save us all
Before we fall and faint
But you're alone and wonder
How that crowd can thunder
And you've saved the day
Though you strut off stage
You feel as the grave
But your smile is still there
You've done yourself in
And you've done it again
You've won the heart of that crowd!
Belly Dancer - TGNorton flipped the channel up; nothing. He flipped the channel down; no better results. Undeterred he checked the menu for what would come on next, and then sighed. He wondered whether there were any good books in the house.Belly Dancer - TG3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"God I wish something good was on TV," he muttered after a moment, and then blinked. He had the sudden sense of being watched.
"Something with belly dancing maybe?" asked a voice. He jumped a little, lifting a bowl of popcorn he couldn't remember getting in the process. A manicured hand dug itself into the bowl, lifting it to a perfectly formed and pouty lips. "Hold that for me, will ya?' she demanded around a mouthful of popcorn. "Wish detection is hungry work. And thirsty," she admitted.
There was a soda in his hand. She leaned forward to sip from it, granting an extent of cleavage in the process. He pulled his eyes away from that for a moment in order to take the intruder in. Full brown hair framed a delicate looking face in what looked to be an equally delicate
Brittle DancerShe is so fragile.Brittle Dancer5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My pretty ballerina with arms and legs, and hands and feet
A heart rests within her porcelain chest,
how easily it shatters beneath my fingertips.
Watch her twirl, as crystal shards glitter around her.
She is so beautiful, with eyes painted a devastating blue.
Touch her lips, soft raspberries, and watch her teeth of pearl crumble.
Just be careful,
Dont you see how easily you can break?
Stone tears drizzle down her cheeks,
but she smiles for me and
her face breaks in two.
The DancerThe DancerThe Dancer1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
At a time of pain and endless strife,
When words and acts cut like a knife,
Its hard to know which path to take,
Which one is safe, which choice to make.
But know you well, this life is yours,
Of tears and joys, fond kisses, sharp claws,
But life is there for those who chance,
And through the pain they choose to dance.