Tag: dance

[vintage UtR] Things I’ve wanted to be in no particular order

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darlene anita scott

The Boy’s Girl
A Delta flight attendant
Valedictorian
An Alvin Ailey dancer—
Soul Train would do
Stokely Carmichael’s concubine (shh)
The subject of a song, a nice song
21
That sigh
Mama
Cover Girl
A broadcast journalist
on Walden Pond
Finally
A missionary
Carnival Queen
The Black Madonna
Damn
In long skirts
Dramatic
Always
Marva Collins, Assata,
or Maxine Shaw
A scream
Fancy
Encyclopedia Brown
Samba—just samba
Wealthier, selfish
A b-girl
Taller-shorter-skinnier-thicker
Someday (soon)
Bald
Drawn in black ink.

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How the Body Remembers (On the Body’s Performance of Trauma as Ekphrasis)

darlene anita scott2 Comments

delivered at the Northeast Modern Language Association Conference Toronto, ON 2 May 2015 Slide 1: "How the Body Remembers" is not just a creative project but is, I guess like all my creative projects, a question I’m trying to answer for myself--this time about how our physical bodies perform traumas. The question came up after [...]

Things I’ve wanted to be in no particular order

darlene anita scott1 Comment

The Boy’s Girl A Delta flight attendant Valedictorian An Alvin Ailey dancer— Soul Train would do Stokely Carmichael's concubine (shh) The subject of a song, a nice song 21 That sigh Mama Cover Girl A broadcast journalist on Walden Pond Finally A missionary Carnival Queen The Black Madonna Damn In long skirts Dramatic Always Marva [...]

For the Girl Who Died By Dancing – Kei Miller

darlene anita scottLeave a comment

I'm behind on my 30 in 30 poem challenge.  I'm still writing.  But also reading.  Today, Malika Booker's Twitter introduced me to Kei Miller ironically as I was listening to Gyptian's Wine Slow.  This here?  Yes. For the girl who died by dancing ‘It is a warning to young people that dem mus stop du [...]

Poem #5 of 30

darlene anita scott1 Comment

THE SPACE IN WHICH SOUND EXISTS He said I walked like a dancer. All the women he had taken made the ground ripple like a winded river under their feet. My soles were smooth; break of air announced me and turned itself to the silence of monochrome--pink to pointe. He took their heaviness as his [...]