I'm not sure how to write a poem inspired by that but that performance was mesmerising.
He must be a little dizzy after that though.
The following users say thank you to Jamboree for this useful post:tlhopkinson
Thought I'd try. I call this Ring Saint.
his halo spinning on
the burning concrete. The
halo holds nothing but
the skin of between.
However it spins, between
An audience forms,
they're there for a show,
but all they are shown is a ring
and a man, the saint.
The man paces to the ring and back.
His torso is bare, his trousers are silk,
black. The ring spins at the gentleman's
touch, spinning at the command of his
The man paces to the ring but not back.
Instead he steps into the between of
the ring and becomes a saint, a miracle
man. He becomes part of
universal forces: he dances
gravity, momentum, spin.
I watch him and see gases
forming stars, arms of galaxies
dancing to the silent sound of
gravitational energy. The ring
spins with him within and I see
the promise of man becoming
one with the between of what
is possible and what is not.
The audience applauds, entertained.
The ring saint captures them
and even as they sit and stand,
they too spin, though unaware.
The dance ends and the spinning
stops. The saint become a man
again, and leans against a pillar
to catch his breath before the
The world spins, the universe spins,
and we spin to and fro.
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