They Danced

by Gearoid Mac Lochlainn

 

 

When the piper came to town, they danced, he said

The whole world danced when the piper played

 

They danced the petticoat swish under a young May moon

where the quaker was kisser and the donkey shoed

They danced to the shiver and the jelly roll

They danced staccato slippety hip hop jig with lazy lilty cuts and clips

 

They danced on streams of air that shimmered through ducts of blended

drones,

bags and bellows and bumblebee tones

They danced while guills and chanter reed spilled trills

and slid down garters of slurred legato into the open street

They danced the dry reed octave playing science of Ennis

They danced Dial eat tripletty trap cran pip and nip the scale

They danced the crickleycrack surround sound Panasonic system

of Johnny Doran at the fair

They danced

 

They danced half-doors off the hinges and smashed the windows,
The German, The Paddywhack, The Six Hand Duke, The Krakoviak

The tumbled salmon leap silk tasseled acrobats

on upturned barrels in the garden of daises

decked in caroline hats and swallow tail coats;

dance masters who vied for parishes, goats, and collection plates,

in hamlets and villages as dusk encroached

They whirled the blackbird and the feathery reel

and trapped the notes beneath their feet

The danced the rabbit and did the dog, the frog, the bump and grind,

the soft shoe shuffle for the girl I left behind

They danced

 

Singing:

Sin amach cos an ghaid agus crap cos an tsugain,

bain cnag as t’ altaibh agus searradh

asdo ghlunaibh,

sios go dti an doras agus suas go dti an cuinne,

is go mbris an riabhach do chosa mara deacair

tu do mhuineadh

 

They lilted tomes of tunes and rhymes in time and place

while steel cleats of hobnail boots

knocked comet showers of sparks from flags

and the skulls beneath the clinker stone

began to shake rattle and roll

Fear na ropai danced till the noose closed in,

then he danced Maggie Pickens on the head of a pin,

paced the whip, double battered, drummed and trotted the hay,

skipped a high caul cap for the orange and the green, The Calefonian,

Paris,

Ballycommon, Ballysteen, and for the rights of an they danced

one last quadrille then storm the Bastille

and the city hall

They danced

 

 

The danced the call and response of phrase and turn

They danced the sword dance with spades, shovels,

fiddle bows, hammers and tongs

They danced an American wake

as Kate Sweeny fingered decades of the rosary

on a single row melodeon under the oak bush at Maas,

then kissed them all a final fare ye well on the bridge of the last

filleadh

They danced the seven step polka and the eight step polkey

The danced the boni moroni watusi bazouki mazurka

on the wind that shook the barley

with a tail feather money maker,

shake it up baby

How low can you go?

They danced

 

They danced the munster buttermilk in Maisie Friel’s kitchen,

on pipes cut from sticks in the great grandfathers garden

They danced on quavers, demi-semi-quavers, hemi-demi-semi- quavers

and microtones that spilled milk fresh from the lark in the morning

 

They danced, bags of bones in shady groves of greatcoat green

Through razor stroke blue hues of choppy seas

and the grave stone sobs and sighs of exiles

They danced

 

They danced floosies, flookies, phonies, fairies,

flakes, fiddlers, fluters, tinkers, tailors, soldiers, sailors,

Pauvees, papists and Presbyterian candlestick makers

They danced through boogie woogie Belfast hornpipebomb backstreet

They danced the aces and the deuces, the one-eyed-Jacks

and the Queen of the rushes for the Bars of Armagh

They danced the diddley dee and the doo ray mi

Skinnymalink melodeon legs big banana feet

doo wop showaddy waddy wop bop a loo bop a wop bamboo pow wow

at the Oakey Dokey Karaoke

They danced wacipi on the waves of Tory and the walls of Limerick

while the piper in the meadow softly strayed

They jumped Nyabingi, dozey doe your partner and swing the pretty lady

house, home, sides, slide and gallop

They waltzed a fish in the dish dervish swish tarantella,

Kicked the tin, jumped the broom and the A train

with a jug of punch, pinch of snuff, other stuff

and all that jazz and jive talk

They danced; scrimpers, scivers, duckers and divers

and uptight Johnny two timers

 

They danced;

lost sheep, rebel priests, geeks, goons, prodigal sons, mutts with mange

Sandinista Sallies, Moving Marys and Disco Sues

who skipped to my loo in Spanish fandango Irish twelve bar blues,

while herons, wrens and water hens spread their plumes

on the chatanooga choo choo G key change

and penny boy hacks of the old Irish times dropped their pens,

sang a song of sixpence for pockets full of rye,

blinked and missed it all

 

They danced

 

Y yo le canto,

Yo le canto a mi Gitano

Yo le canto a mi Mandela, Sisulu, Soweto

Yo le canto a mi Romero

Yo le canto a Victor Jara con la guitarra

Yo le canto a commandante Che Guevara

Yo le canto a Nicaraguita,

la flor mas Linda di mi querer

Yo le canto,

y cuando yo le canto

Un poquito me esta passando

Yo le canto,

A mi Lakota,

Yo le canto,

Wani waci yelo

 

They danced,

to age old tunes of boom boom operators,

pulse propagators,

stocks and regulators,

aural space negotiators,

musical agitators and acoustic instigators,

tongueing the sound

down at the crossroads

They danced while infantry

and military were dispatched to stop the dance

And still they danced

 

When the piper came to town, they danced, ha said,

Once, the world danced when the piper played