Dancing in the Wake of Young Minds (Part 4)

by Brian Knippers
(an incarcerated poet currently residing at ncci-gardner in gardner, ma)

your graceful form floats on rising clouds
tapestries smile burnt embers beside you
you rise on darkest night’s sky
savagely stomping
throwing your hands upwards
warding off pagan gods who envy movement
you are breath and life’s span
as you dance within reach of your father
crushed velvet curtains droop behind you
windows thrown wide towards cerulean blue skies
welcome another day
flow beside me
billow around me
be at ease with yourself
rejoice when joyce’s come together
mystery and mutual creation
how their energies feed, pull and yield
harmony and distortion fade into background noise
all other distractions disappear
daddy’s little girl’s dancing
dancing in the wake of young minds
just beyond their reach
in moments he pushes her away
her love never waivers
she glances longingly at her father
she sees love in his eyes
a fierce pride inherent in all dubliners
he finds balance in her beauty
she speaks to him in gestures
her fingers lazily drifting downward
ever down, down, down
between small steps she leaps
her father’s laughter
echoes around this room
perhaps they need one another
to be near one another
to fear one another
this magnetic push and pull of artistry
moments shared
their minds more alike
than those others
as night falls
they read together
by dimmest candlelight
james feels this tug of love
for a daughter
he never let go

Reading and learning about Lucia Joyce was both a wonderfully happy and painfully sad experience. You just keep expecting someone to swoop in and save her. I did all this research and wrote down all these esoteric facts, and in the end I barely used any of them. Just like that last poorly constructed sentence, sometimes you can get your point across without being exact. Lucia Joyce is a feeling to me. A complexity of emotions that explode upwards. I’m reminded of a sleeping volcano that’s moments away from reawakening. Lucia was left behind. Her mother cast her off like an old shawl after a party. She was set adrift on her own course. Lucia’s only recourse was to act out against her family. Although she lived during a veritable psychiatric renaissance, no one was seemingly able to help her? WTF.

We know Lucia needed her mother. She resented her mother due to her mother’s hostility towards her/rejection of her. Lucia needed the one person who’d utterly completely, entirely abandoned her. How very, very, very sad.

Lucia was incredibly talented. She was a writer-dancer-actress. If she’d been embraced by her family and offered meaningful support — instead of hostility — there’s no telling where her legend would’ve began and ended. I’m sure of one thing, she would’ve accomplished great things.

Thanks for reading my poetry. I love you all.

Brian
plod2022
ncci-gardner(life)
anotherlockeddownpoetproduction
yesterday’s freedom inc.