LB’s Poetry: “Dancing Stars”

by Larry Brody


I’ve been getting emails from readers growing impatient because they haven’t yet met the Navajo Dog of this collection of poetry. Chill, gang. I’m setting it – and you – up.

One of the most obnoxious things about writing for, you know, money, is that those who do the paying always tell us who do the writing to “speed things up,” and “Forget the beginning. Start at Act Two.” But no one’s paying me now.

Still, as the work below should show, we’re getting closer. I swear!

Dancing Stars

My friend the wild Indian

(See the feathers! Hear the bells!)

Points up at the night sky. Stars fixed

Like pinholes in black paper stare down,

Immobile, secure.

My friend the wild Indian

(See him dance! Hear him sing!)

Tells me of Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse,

His long-departed kin.

They are up there, he says, two out of the

Millions of points of pure light. But they are

Different. They live, says

My friend the wild Indian.

(See his frenzy! Hear his ghosts!)

I watch for the life, inhaling the sage and the

Sweetgrass that burn around the circle where

the Fancy Dancers whirled,

Where my friend shook his feathers and

Rang his bells, where he danced, sang,

And lived his frenzy, and became all his

Lost people’s ghosts.

I watch for the life, and I see it, two stars

Breaking away. They move slowly at

First, like the wheels of one of the

Steam locomotives that conquered this

Prairie before the engine has

Gathered enough steam. But then the

Stars whirl, capering and twisting,

Twirling around each other, moving in

Historical patterns, the same ones used by

The dancers earlier in the day.

They are speaking,

My friend the wild Indian

(See his story! Hear his past!)

Says. There is a great message here,

Of motion, of action, without distance although far.

Others join us, all watching, listening,

Children at the storytellers’ knees,

All the wild Indians

(See the feathers! Hear the bells!)

Left on the summer plains.

The story, the dance, the night life of the

Late, great Lakotas continues as hours

Sweep by. The sage and the sweetgrass

Burn down, yet the Dancing Stars’ message

Remains until Dawn. I thank

My friend the wild Indian,

(See the frenzy! Hear the past!)

But the honor is not without pain.

What will I do if I never

See the dance or hear the song

Of Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse again?

Larry Brody is the head dood at TVWriter™. Although the book whose cover you see above is for sale on Kindle, he is posting at least one poem a week here at TVWriter™ because, “As the Navajo Dog herself once pointed out to me, ‘Art has to be free. If you create it for money, you compromise your artistic vision by trying to please those who are paying. If you don’t accept money, you can be yourself. Like your art, you too are free.’”

Who is the Navajo Dog? Keep coming back and you’ll see.

Author: LB

A legendary figure in the television writing and production world with a career going back to the late ’60s, Larry Brody has written and produced hundreds of hours of American and worldwide television and is a consultant to production companies and networks in the U.S. and abroad . Shows written or produced by Brody have won several awards including - yes, it's true - Emmys, Writers Guild Awards, and the Humanitas Award.

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