Prayer for A Bellydancer

I like men’s belly dance music.

And my algorithm brings forth

a channel of Turkish dancers.

All very wiry very tough guys in thrusts and hip rolls,

drums, violin, clarinet, other strings,

old guys with finger cymbals,

and fast, strong physical dancing my dance seeking rhythm really loves.

100% ALL MEN unless a grandma clapping on her seat.

Though these men are professionals, I am not really watching them in seductively dancing,

I am watching the style of some specific dancers.

And my crush: An unnamed performer with a fresh natural skill.

I saw a early reel with enthusiasm and a unique, natural enjoyment.

A little chubby guy with a great smile and an ease my inner dancer recognized.

Then tourist photos of him busking on the street, still smiling,

then at a wedding, in neat, nice haircut and nice shirt.

In time the thing done for the joy of it

will change in the routine of it,

the baby face will be changed by the hours and food

and stimulants and some places surgery.

Some stars deliberately cultivate gigantic ponderous bellies to jiggle.

I do not know him, but please protect his spirit and his smile in the cutthroat ocean he swims in.

Protect the groups he plays with, the people who help his life and livelihood.

And keep him safe from the ‘inspiration’ of the jelly bellied.

The dancer in blue pants. I love his cheroot.

And a fast-moving song my brain calls “the bak bak bak bak song” for fun. No dancers, just the music. Enjoy!

I photograph joyous dancing feeling

that stirs my feet, my hips, and my soul.

I Thank God for ways music enters my world.

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Published by Dorothy Perry