“Drunken Tango On The Floor”

“Tango” by Isabel Hermano

Drunken Tango on The Floor

Inspired by the painting “Tango” by Isabel Hermano
For Isabel Hermano the artist

Their colored inks were spilled not poured
as they danced three long- steps across a tiled floor.
Those tango winds rippled the accordion,
arm dropping
to a dip,
he left teeth marks upon her wrist,
wild eyed,
he grabbed a stolen kiss.

Then she was just a drunken ripped tornado
that descended into a deep and purple haze
stirred into fruity caramel and sprinkled with nut glaze.

He danced her heels over headdress
then reeled her in so extra tight,
there was not a doubt she was liquid on love
and would turn into a two-four- one step-puddle
at his feet,
before the clock struck midnight.

It was when the cold and hot of him and her
met across a room,
and tangled in a tango
that melted legs off the piano
incinerating the vinyl table tops.

They became another pair of drunken lovers
scuffing up the floor,
he twirled her and over-wound her,
barred the windows and the doors.
They were free -forming into toffee,
tossing all caution to the whores.
He could have melted that city down,
before their dance was on its second round,
while all the other ladies paled on sight.
She was a supernatural-counter-clockwise-thing,
held only to the ground by perfect timing,
taut arms, and a tightly, tethered -lead- string.

They stumbled in and out of grace,
her fast breath gently blowing through his face,
hips matched in perfect sync,
the patrons mute and slack-jawed in silk and lace.
There was not an inch of room for all the rest…
so they cleared out to the bar instead,  
like a twister through tornado alley,
her hot spot riding up his leg.
They were frosting on the dance floor,
spreading out to cover more,
if you’d lit a match they’d have lit on fire,
ninety- proof of alcoholic love,
calves and pelvis riding on a two-backed dancing storm  
descending from the nimbus clouds above.

Flames of flamboyant dance moves ,
she was his bull and he rode her in red,
there was not an inch of room for other couples,
so they cleared the bar and fled.
He snapped his cape, and cracked his whip,
until she full- out bent her knee,
as he pressed her tighter to his will,
for the tango- dancing world to see.

It was when the cold and hot
of him and her
met across a room and tangled in a tango,
that melted legs off the piano,
incinerating the vinyl table tops.

They became another pair of drunken lovers
scuffing up the floor
he twirled her and over-wound her,
barred the windows and the doors.
He danced her heels over headdress
then reeled her in so tight,
there was not a doubt she was drunk on love
and would turn into a two-four one- step puddle
at his feet.
before the clock struck midnight.

Karima Hoisan
March 14, 2012
LINC Island Bay of Tranquility

* Footnote.

“Tango” was a birthday gift from Isabel last week. She told me a story of what inspired her to paint this glorious passionate abstract, and she sent me the music she also used while she was painting. As soon as I saw it, and then heard her story of seeing a couple dancing a perfect and almost “out-of -control” tango that cleared the dance floor until they were the only ones on it, I listened to her music and inspired by this painting, and the wonderful classical tango by Astor Piazzolla, I took poetic license and  imagined it in my mind, creating this very energetic and sensual poem, something radically different from my last few poems..Thank you Isabel for this colorful and beautiful gift, that shifted my poetic gears:)
I will be performing it for the first time Sunday March 18th at 12noon at DNA Art and Music Fusion.  If you would like to come to my reading
, I will be doing two poems inspired by Isabel’s Art, and many more.
Hope you will join me. Your taxi here: DNA Art and Music Fusion slurl

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6 Responses to “Drunken Tango On The Floor”

  1. Hoyt Heron says:

    Ohhh Miss Karima!
    The painting and poem are both very sensual, vivid, and moving. You and Isabel make quite a team. I liken this to a dream I know that we all have had at one time or another. When on the stage, floor, stadium, or arena, one’s chance comes and they “nail it!” Every move is to perfection. No flaws. Poetry in motion. The one-chance gift from the Gods. And nothing could ever take this moment away, which is etched in the memory. With your brilliant poetry you have had this moment more than once. May I ask yet again for the umteenth time…”How did you get like this?”
    Your Ruco


    • Thank you so much Hoyt..I too am really pleased with this duo of color and sensuality. As soon as Isabel sent it to me, I wrote her that I just “knew” it would be a poem..that kind of sixth sense about when I see something that puts my muse to, whispering “yes yes I can give you the words for that one” Someone told me it seemed a bit like a female Tom Waits style, and that made me smile, as I adore him, and he is the very best of story-tellers too. I am so pleased you liked the final result mixing the colorful visual with hopefully the right matching colorful words..


  2. My dear Karima !
    The painting and your poem – they had been made for each other – and I feel deeply honoured, that you ” adopted” my abstract ! Your ability of transforming colour, form and visible energy into words is out of this world !! This went far beyond inspiration, this simply had to be. You added a profound meaning, a passionate imagination and a breathless swirl *****
    A painter couldn`t wish for more ………thanks so much my dear 🙂
    You created a ” duende” here, I agree with Hoyt !


    • Thank You Isa, and I like the word “adopted” to describe the next stage relationship of a painting once it has inspired the “parent poet” who then takes it into her own brand of creativity. The fact that you approve, is the biggest reward, because there is a sacredness about someone’s art, that most always be “respected” even if captured in new lighting, in a new art form (poetry in my case) I love the colors, the dynamic movement, and the subtle figures of the dancers.. Just a wonderful visual high, that made me feel both happy and ready to put in words. Once again you have given me the greatest gift, the seed of a poem, that grew into a hybrid I too am enjoying:)


  3. Vicky Ellis says:

    “They were free-forming into toffee,
    tossing all caution to the whores.”

    I really wish I’d written these lines. Terrific sense of movement and incredibly visual. Wonderful stuff 🙂


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