Vignettes Inspired by Pina Bausch

Pina Bausch dirt

Pina Bausch by


The hotel melts onto the Champs-Elysee;
Rome’s ashes float eternally on the Tiber.
A tea-dance stops in Berlin.
An Englishwoman fires at Hitler.

Mannequins in pink rehearse with
the corps de ballet – float through nine lives
Jeté en air
float on clouds
land in New York.

A princess ran away —
she left luxury in a forest.
Her life was a Czardas
played on a violin

by a peasant who
once sank into a swamp,
but rose to marry the princess who
danced with their son as they
migrated to strange lands.

Their trails crossed time and melodies;
their shoes multiplied. They learned
from passing sheep and random cows.

Potatoes raised from the earth, apples
fell from the trees. They danced through
color and blankness..pioneers–
leaving behind angels and broken promises
going forward to find the horizon.

In dreams I am weightless
gravity becomes visible
I change, grow wings, fly.
This architecture seems emotionless,
also weightless; freedom flows
construction seems fluid as
water, invisible as wind.

Words dancing – language moves.
Partners become one
through elemental feelings.
The NOW elongates,
the past feels closer,
the future turns on the wheel.
Lightning strikes, thunder cracks!
Outer roars meet inner screams –
sleep’s a path to peace.

Summer settles like wet mush
steam rises as the moon wanes
the soul sheds its skin.

Ghost thoughts fill the void.
Sentience appears behind the veil
The movement changes yet moves on.

There souls turn weightless
spinning through summer leaves
one may find its mate in the light of a new moon.

Sword leaves saw edges
cut sunshine to splinters
falling shards splinter time

Talent filled colors
flow from the sun’s descent
art’s fierce paradigm
shadows deepen history’s secrets
a sense of deja-vu
dark matter permeates thoughts
twilight’s like sailing through stars
where ghosts exchange melodies
all harmonics rearranged

Deception deep in DNA
That life has no limits
Stretches beyond horizons
Like perpetual gyroscopes in motion
our minds explore new ideas,
an endless phantasmagoria of thoughts

Birthday dance of fireworks
freedom bursts in colored sparks
born at dawn’s light in cold and mud
Strings sing while feet dance
Behind the veil a girl moves
                  the urge to begin again is strong

Caught by a rose’s thorn
shredded by the western wind
wrapped onto a wagon wheel
love holds on against nature’s force

Thread your ring
onto the crescent moon
as the quadrille begins.
Join Venus, Sirius, and Jupiter
to music of the spheres as galaxies arise

©Gay Reiser Cannon * 3/9/16 – All Rights Reserved
If you haven’t read and care to read Part I it is here:

Last Winter

Winter icicles stretch roof to hedge.
Squirrels burrow beneath snow-covered leaves
for ungathered acorns. Texas snow is fleeting –
they’re never prepared. They chase each other
shaking off the dusty snow. Up trees, over roofs
their blood is up and their appetites excited.
Spring comes early..and so do little ones.
I watch them racing past late blooming roses
and a single flowering quince.

*   *   *

Our aging shrub blooms.
The dying season cuts short
the hope for bouquets.

© Gay Reiser Cannon * All Rights Reserved

My first haibun.  Hope it qualifies. I have written haiku for years..but still fall short of the mark.

In The Time Of Sand

I came from the dirt
in the time of sand.
Picked from our teeth
before and after meals,
sand sifted out of the air
each night to clear the way
for starlight.

The wind howled at the moon,
the sand-drifts covered
loam, rocks, tarry clay,
and scratchy white caliche.
It often burned but I didn’t
witness the glow.

My cousins and I played
marbles, baseball, dolls in it
kicking the sand that filled
our shoes, stuck to our skin,
and more. Moving, it hid
the broken and the whole.

Blinded eyes knew sand
shielded  monsters from the light,
piled up in front of locked doors.
Gypsies stole the keys and brooms.

Coyotes howled,
tracked through it
knew the moon
saw truth but wouldn’t tell.

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 1/7/2016 * All Rights Reserved