Curtain
the final curtain on one of the longest running
musicals ever, some people claim to have
seen it over one hundred times.
I saw it on the tv news, that final curtain:
flowers, cheers, tears, a thunderous
accolade.
I have not seen this particular musical
but I know if I had that I wouldn't have
been able to bear it, it would have
sickened me.
trust me on this, the world and its
peoples and its artful entertainment has
done very little for me, only to me.
still, let them enjoy one another, it will
keep them from my door
and for this, my own thunderous
accolade.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Related quotes
Final Curtain
Whats left for me to see
In my ship I sailed so far
What can the answer be
Dont know what the questions are.
And after all Ive done
Still I cannot feel the sun
Tell me save me
In the end our lost souls must repent.
I must know it is for certain
Can it be the final curtain
As long as the wind will blow
Ill be searching high and low.
Who knows whats really true
They say the end is so near
Why are we all so cruel
We just fill ourselves with fear.
And heaven and hell will turn
All that we love shall burn
Hear me trust me
In the end our lost souls must repent.
I must know it is for certain
Can it be the final curtain
As long as the wind will blow
Ill be searching high and low.
Final curtain
Final curtain
song performed by by Yngwie Malmsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Final Curtain
Whats left for me to see
In my ship I sailed so far
What can the answer be
Dont know what the questions are.
And after all Ive done
Still I cannot feel the sun
Tell me save me
In the end our lost souls must repent.
I must know it is for certain
Can it be the final curtain
As long as the wind will blow
Ill be searching high and low.
Who knows whats really true
They say the end is so near
Why are we all so cruel
We just fill ourselves with fear.
And heaven and hell will turn
All that we love shall burn
Hear me trust me
In the end our lost souls must repent.
I must know it is for certain
Can it be the final curtain
As long as the wind will blow
Ill be searching high and low.
Final curtain
Final curtain
song performed by by Yngwie Malmsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curtain call
Curtain call
~
A show as long as a life
Written in the script of the unknown
The mysterious bard has foretold
The final curtain call
~
The closing act is well underway
The last scene about to begin
Soon the lights shall dim to blackness
And the curtains shall fall to close
The lead bystander is all but done
A role written to an end
~
This has been no great story
A simple forgetful tale if told true
The mild tragedy of a few events
Within the comedy of it all
The final performance, a swansong
Then all shall be done
~
Once it is over and the curtain falls
The audience shall rise to leave
With a clatter of chairs ringing out
A dull applause
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Black Curtain
They walk with the black curtain over their faces
They gather others with the pain it leaves behind
The people live in darkness nothing in their minds
Their faces are blank no expresion no feeling
Those who have seen know what it does
Those who know weep in solitude and sorrow
They don't look forward to today or tomorrow
They know everything yet they know nothing
The peoples skin all white and sickened
Their voices a raspy mist
All they look for all they long for is peace and bliss
Their cloths worn and tattered
They know there is no cure
They know there is no hope, no place for them to rest
For they know they will soon be one less
They know there is no cure they know they will rot away
They walk through this aweful place
With dread and dispare
Everyone knows, and try not to stare
Yet it is so hard to sheild your eyes, to hold back the tears
The black curtain lays over their eyes
The cloth that shall never be lifted
For it is too far they have drifted
The curtain falls over their faces
The darkness sets in
They know the time has come for them to leave this place
There is no expresion on their faces
As the curtian and sickness leaves
They will suffer no more
They will go home
And will never be alone
For the curtain is lifted and they are in the light once more
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Our Final Farewell
To say our final farewell it happend not that long ago.
Our final farewell, I remember it so clearly.
Our final farewell, I remember your smile.
Our final farewell, I remember how proud you were
that you got promoted.
Our final farewell, happened like any 'goodbye'.
Our final farewell, you seemed happy.
Our final farewell, you seemed to enjoy life.
Our final farewell, you seemed to enjoy everything,
Our final farewell, I remember the conversation.
Our final farewell, sometimes haunts me.
Our final farewell, happened so quick.
Our final farewell, I didn't know that it was going to
be our last.
Our final farewell, happened more then a year ago
Your final farewell, happened on the 15/11/05 as you
took your own life.
poem by Nikki Hamilton
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There are two sighs of relief every night in the life of an opera manager. The first comes when the curtain goes up The second sigh of relief comes when the final curtain goes down without any disaster, and one realizes, gratefully, that the miracle has happened again.
quote by Rudolf Bing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alankar (Decor) -7
Angry Beings
Angry woman furious furious
Yelling yelling thunderous thunderous
Hitting her head vigorous vigorous
Slapping her face serious serious
Serious furious is angry man
Thunderous vigorous booing boos span
Serious vigorous his goblets plan
Thunderous serious late night elan
Angry woman furious furious
Yelling yelling thunderous thunderous
Hitting her head vigorous vigorous
Slapping her face serious serious
Hassling children dangerous hazardous
Battling home scene hazardous perilous
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Behind That Curtain
Let me show and tell you my people,
Behind that curtain,
where all the cooking can be attained,
that, all suprises are drowned,
yap'that, where our eyes directed.
Behind that curtain,
decorated with a colourful carpet,
with a big secret underneath,
yeah! that where every eye digging into it.
Behind that curtain,
sorroundedby curious walls,
walls with beautiful dolls,
yap! that every finger would like to touch.
Behind that curtain,
where all decisions are made,
decisions of power and trade,
that may stand years and decades.
Behind that curtain,
drafted with Tanzanite colour,
that may stand for years not hours,
yes, where every heart would like to mingle in.
Behind that curtain,
where I hear a smell,
something like a rotten hell,
yes, that every fly would be pleased to kiss.
that is where you belong and it is yiur home.
poem by Dickson Mseti
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O, Curtain Boy...my Curtain Boy!
i'm the stage
i'm the setting
i'm the play
i'm the actor
i'm the green room, too
but how's it you kept
the command ove the
curtain in your hands?
o, curtain boy!
my curtain boy...
don't you see
the stage's developing cracks?
the setting's getting ruined?
the lines're getting broken?
the actor's growing weary?
the greenroom floor is all smudged
with the colours of spent out emotions?
o, curtain boy...
my curtain boy!
30aug2009
00.40hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Malaysiana - Leatherback Turtle
coconut leaves rustle,
running with the wind
at at least 20 km per hour
waves surge at an
equally frantic speed -
patriotic hands that
repeatedly hold onto
the beach with a roaring
and thunderous voice to
match their claim
a giant turtle slowly emerges
in the water, a dark shadow
accenting the night with its
rare mound and strenuous flippers
the final touchdown in a
thousand mile comeback
each stride and lug forward
reflects a firm belief in the land
that it belongs to
it is the first comeback after
many many years at sea
and now for the noblest of chores
in less than two hours,
at least a hundred
ping pong size eggs
have gone into a hole it has dug
a hole large enough to hold
all its love for the land
and you should see how tears
keep rolling down its eyes
as it thanks god it still remembers
its way back to shower its gratitude
to the land that had given him birth
the giant turtle remembers how years
ago it had crept out of its egg, shoveled away sand
and without another thought made its
precarious way to the freedom of the sea
despite the brief encounter, it never never
forgot the land it originated from, its smell, its winds,
its sounds and has logged every inch it had swam
to make that triumphant return today
the hundred eggs hold its hundred wishes
that this tradition be kept for as long
as leatherback turtle exists
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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No Rehearsal
Did you learn your lines today?
Well, there is no rehearsal.
The tickets have all been sold
For tomorrows matinee.
Theres a telegram from the writer,
But there is no rehearsal.
The electrician has been told
To make the spotlights brighter.
There is one seat in the circle--
Five hundred million in the stalls.
Simply everyone will be there,
But the safety curtain falls
When the bomb thats in the dressing room
Blows the windows from their frames.
And the prompter in his corner is sorry that he came.
There is one seat in the circle--
Five hundred million in the stalls.
Simply everyone will be there
But the safety curtain falls
When the bomb thats in the dressing room
Blows the windows from their frames.
And the prompter in his corner is sorry that he came.
When the bomb thats in the dressing room
Blows the windows from their frames.
And the prompter in his corner is sorry that he came.
Did you learn your lines today?
Well there is no rehearsal.
The interval will last until
The ice-cream lady melts away.
The twelve piece orchestra are here,
But there is no rehearsal.
The first violinists hands are chilled--
Hes gone deaf in both ears.
Well, the scenery is colorful,
But the paint is so damn thin.
You see the wall behind is crumbling,
And the stage door is bricked in.
But the audience keep arriving
til theyre standing in the wings.
And we take the final curtain call,
And the ceiling crashes in.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Accolade
Muse, use, fuse, ruse;
And like the mortal remains of my friend,
But i need to take a walk on the path of righteousness,
Because i really know what killed him.
The accolade,
With generosity and kindness;
But you were eulogized in the land of joy! !
And like your studies at 'Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology',
But the final funeral rites would be held at a piece of land far away from you!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Final Day
When the rich die last
Like the rabbits
Running from a lucky past
Full of shadow cunning
And the world lights up
For the final day
We will all be poor
Having had our say
Put a blanket up on the window pane
When the baby cries lullaby again
As the light goes out on the final day
For the people who never had a say
There is so much noise
There is too much heat
And the living floor
Throws you off your feet
As the final day falls into the night
There is peace outside
In the narrow light
song performed by by Young Marble Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thunderous Snow!
thunderous snow,
born o'er dark silent mountains;
the final prayer,
the last turn of the plow.
air frozen and heavy,
the wind shakes the bones,
the bare trees wait,
naked, and obedient.
time come and gone,
the memory of a kiss fades
into the deep stillness,
and the sleep of the soul.
cries of passion lost,
in the darkness so deep,
that ending and beginning are one!
the hunter stares,
his shadow twisted by moonlight,
the faint taste of flesh,
dried blood on his lips.
a few flurries, a drumbeat,
the wolf howls, no sound!
stillness wraps around fire,
the fields pray empty prayers.
thunderous snow,
love, and cosmos!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Theatre Of The Soul
On a cold night in a hotel in new orleans
Came the final blow
And somehow somewhere we lost sight
In our search for that pot of gold
And all that happened I dont understand
Could somebody here, somebody please explain to me
Cause Im feeling so damn deceived
And I cant run, cant hide, cant get nothing right lately
Theatre of my soul....play on child
Ashes to ashes...light the good lord lays us down
Dust to dust, oh, no
The time has come to lay to rest the years
All the years it took this heart to trust
Maybe too much too soon, I couldnt get my head on straight
All that worry, just wasted time
And now its much too late to save it
Long forgotten midnight dancer
Plays her final role
The curtain falls and Im still standing
Theatre of my soul you left in vain
Could someone please explain, and I said
Solo
I know that nothings the same
Riding blind on the winds of change
But in my head that scene just keeps on playing
Long forgotten midnight dancer
Plays her final role, oh, yes she does
Cant run, cant hide, cant get nothing right lately
The curtain falls and Im still standing
In the theatre of my soul
Cant run, cant hide, cant get nothing right lately
When time it just keeps on passing,
I got to let it go, let it roll, let it roll, let it roll
Cant run, cant hide, cant get nothing right lately
I keep searching for those long lost answers
In the theatre of my soul
Theatre of my soul
song performed by by Poison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man Of The Hour
tidal waves don't beg forgiveness
crash, then on their way
father, he enjoyed collisions
others walked away
the snowflake falls in may
and the doors are open now
as the bells are ringing out
cuz the man of the hour
has taken his final bow
goodbye for now
nature has its own religion
gospel from the land
father ruled by long division
young men, they pretend
old men comprehend
and the sky breaks at dawn
shedding light upon this town
we all come 'round
cuz the man of the hour
has taken his final bow
goodbye for now
and the road, the old men paved
the broken seams along the way
the rusted signs, they're just for me
he was guiding me, love, his own way
now the man of the hour
has taken his final bow
as the curtain comes down
i feel that this is just
goodbye for now
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Simplification Of Her Death
she sits on a train
the final horn blows
she closes the
white curtain
and sleeps
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Her final hour
You may no it.
Or you may not want to see.
But her final hour is near.
She'd been screaming for your help.
Asking for help for so long.
All her screaming fell upon deaf ears.
Within her final hour.
She belived she had no other choice.
But to go out of the world this way.
She just couldnt deal with one more day.
Her final hour now has come and gone.
Her family get that knock on the door.
Sorry but we've got bad news.
All they can do is scream why.
Why Amy why do it.
As they go to identify the body.
All they can do is hope and pray.
They pray its all a mistake.
When they see its her.
They brake down.
It was no mistake.
They wonder just what the hell was she thinking.
How could we not of known.
In the morning the pray and hope.
It was just a bad dream.
But of course it was no dream.
She really had gone.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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The Well Rising
The well rising without sound,
the spring on a hillside,
the plowshare brimming through deep ground
everywhere in the field—
The sharp swallows in their swerve
flaring and hesitating
hunting for the final curve
coming closer and closer—
The swallow heart from wingbeat to wingbeat
counseling decisions, decision:
thunderous examples. I place my feet
with care in such a world.
poem by William Stafford
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A Hundred Times Over
A hundred times over words have flowed through my fingers to the keys
A hundred times over I have released the freedom that is in my mind,
A hundred times over I have become one with my inter most longing,
A hundred times over I have taken a journey to show you my own world.
A hundred times over I have written of pain and life, of sorrow and joy,
A hundred times over I have used my art to show you what's in my mind
A hundred times over again I will show you.
A hundred times over I have cried for those, whose names are untold,
A hundred times over I have showed you their pain.
A hundred times over I have become their connection to you,
A hundred times over I have showed you the beauty of our world,
A hundred times over I have taken you somewhere you may never see,
A hundred times over my words have screamed the horror of darkness,
A hundred times over I have sung to you the beauty of light,
A hundred times over I have taken your hand to lead you to a new place
A hundred time over I have written for those who have no words to write
A hundred times over I have tried to show truth in a world of lies,
A hundred times over I have have tried to show the world's beauty,
A hundred times over again I will lead down these paths,
A hundred times over and over again I will show you reality,
A hundred times over and over again I shall show you my world,
A hundred times over and over again until you have memorised truth,
A hundred times over again until you can repeat what I have told,
A hundred times over again shall I create an art of words, time, of life.
A hundred times over again I shall do this,
A hundred times over again.
A hundred times over.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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