Don Hewitt of Maine, knowing that I love poetry, sent me this snippet from ee cummings:
"...something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses..."
Perfect for spring!!
I WAS A DANCER
Monday, April 25, 2011
Posted by Jacques d'Amboise at 12:50 PM 0 comments
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
On The Road Again With Jacques
From high above the ground I come to you, headed westward to California and the Pacific Northwest. The great city of San Francisco awaits, followed by the Entertainment Gathering in Monterey. I can smell the ocean already and feel the magnificent calm of her grace even from this altitude.
by Jeffrey Harrison
It's a gift, this cloudless November morning
warm enough for you to walk without a jacket
along your favorite path. The rhythmic shushing
of your feet through fallen leaves should be
enough to quiet the mind, so it surprises you
when you catch yourself telling off your boss
for a decade of accumulated injustices,
all the things you've never said circling inside you.
It's the rising wind that pulls you out of it,
and you look up to see a cloud of leaves
swirling in sunlight, flickering against the blue
and rising above the treetops, as if the whole day
were sighing, Let it go, let it go,
Posted by Jacques d'Amboise at 11:46 AM 1 comments
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
New York Post - March 16, 2008
Wanted:
A dozen pregnant women for a ballet production.
Far from being heavy, lumbering and clumsy, pregnant women are often fascinating, beautiful and serene, according to the artistic director of the British ballet company.
And to prove it, Balletlorent is recruiting 12 pregnant women to star in a dance production.
"MaEternal" will be performed in the northern English city of Newcastle in May.
-Cathy Burke, Wire Services
Posted by Jacques d'Amboise at 10:58 AM 0 comments
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
When a leaf
makes friends
with a river
a tree
must bid
farewell.
--Devin McDonough (4th grader from NYC)
Posted by Jacques d'Amboise at 12:04 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Another Postponement of Destruction
by Henry Taylor
Banging out the kitchen door, I kicked
before I saw it a thick glass baking dish
I'd set outside for dogs the night before.
It skidded to the top step, teetered, tipped
into an undulating slide from step
to step, almost stopped halfway down, then lunged
on toward concrete, and I froze to watch it
splinter when it hit. Instead, it kissed
the concrete like a skipping stone, and rang
to rest in frost-stiffened grass. Retrieving it,
I suddenly felt my neck-cords letting go
of something like a mask of tragedy.
I washed the dish and put it in its place,
then launched myself into a rescued day.
Posted by Jacques d'Amboise at 11:00 AM 0 comments
heart is rising
NDI! NDI! NDI!
Im pulled out of class the second time
put in the hall
to learn from the emptiness
but NDI is next its next period
its my next life
I whisper it slowly in the hall
keeping myself to myself
feet sliding in my shoes
heart quietly waiting to rise
Efran, NDI dancer, 2008
Posted by Jacques d'Amboise at 10:59 AM 0 comments
