Dervish Dance

[Billy]

Dervish Dance

When I was much younger,
I did the dervish dance in the Central High gymnasium.
From the Mashed Potatoes to the Monkey, to the Dog.
Mr. Doos kicked me out, said it was lewd.
None of that while he was on watch.
In my twenties I did the dervish dance with all the women.
They didn't know--or maybe they did--I was dancing
by myself. Loving another was never enough.

[BobBradshaw]

I love this poem. Maybe it’s partly because it’s nostalgic for me. But, also, it’s cause I love the N’s voice. And I wholeheartedly agree with that last line. Another good one, Billy

[CalebMurdock]

I like your poem also -- the natural language, the warmth of it. I'm not overly familiar with dervish dancing, but I find myself wondering if you might be using it as a metaphor for something else, like flirting (though the last sentence of the poem doesn't support that). As I think I've said, I don't always pick up on such hints and cues.

[Billy]

Thanks Bob and Caleb

Dervish dancing is a part of the Sufi way in Islam to connect closer to God, swirling like planets, praising and meditating, a mystical practice.

[CalebMurdock]

Yes, I know about Dervish dancing, but you were doing it as a child (which was more than a few years ago, I can imagine). How many children back then knew about Dervish dancing? That's why I was wondering if you were using Dervish dancing as a metaphor of some kind.

Whether you meant it as a metaphor or not, good poem.

[Billy]

Well, I did know about dervish dancing in high school but that's not the point. N, now that he's older, is calling all his dancing a dervish dance, whether he was doing the Mashed Potatoes, the Dog, the Monkey--what the dances were called in those day--or doing the sexual mating dance.

[CalebMurdock]

I knew it was a metaphor, but I was just trying to figure out if it was a metaphor for something specific (i.e., not specific to you). So you're using it as a metaphor for any kind of dance that you might do, imbued with your special individual magic.

You see, I had chronic low self-esteem all my life. As a youth, I didn't see myself as appealing or desirable or lovable. I was always a social outcast. If I ever danced, it was always in private. The poem you've written shows a level of self-acceptance and self-love that I never experienced (and am still trying to develop), which is why I didn't grasp it immediately.

[Billy]

Thanks Caleb, I think we all have varying degrees of low self-esteem.