In Shadows to Escape
After players have left the stage,
And the lights with excitement have dimmed...
On terrific performances given by them.
Cast away are masks adorned...
With emotions to address,
And no shoulder for one wished to lean on!
The ensemble finishes...
To scramble and move on!
Applause and ovations,
Given and received.
Actors breathing life...
Into characters believed!
And the curtain call is finished...
To leave a packed house emptied and cleared!
As a cigarette is lit,
To silhouette not happiness but regret.
Accompanied by tears!
This 'star' left living in a reality...
Unscripted and unspoken,
Unsuspected...
Or thought to conceive.
Walks to sit on a barren stage...
Unrehearsed to collect a peace of mind,
Cherished to protect away from an allotted time.
In shadows...
To escape a crowding maze.
And those who could pick moments to critique!
Or question why blocking seen,
Is kept restfully discreet!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
The Stage
If the world is just a stage
and we're the actors in it,
why do the same ones get to play
the lead roles every minute?
For once I'd like to see a change
take place upon this stage
where the lead characters are the poor
stepping out of their cage.
Where all the minor roles would be given out
to all the power players
who've controlled this drama from the start
having never said their prayers.
And as the curtain rose each day
we would look and see
the poor and needy in front row seats,
the rulers in standing room only.
If this is just a stage we're on
and life is just a play,
then wouldn't it be ingenious
to see them all portray
us.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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On Hearing Of A Death
We lack all knowledge of this parting. Death
does not deal with us. We have no reason
to show death admiration, love or hate;
his mask of feigned tragic lament gives us
a false impression. The world's stage is still
filled with roles which we play. While we worry
that our performances may not please,
death also performs, although to no applause.
But as you left us, there broke upon this stage
a glimpse of reality, shown through the slight
opening through which you dissapeared: green,
evergreen, bathed in sunlight, actual woods.
We keep on playiing, still anxious, our difficult roles
declaiming, accompanied by matching gestures
as required. But your presence so suddenly
removed from our midst and from our play, at times
overcomes us like a sense of that other
reality: yours, that we are so overwhelmed
and play our actual lives instead of the performance,
forgetting altogehter the applause.
Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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In Between Those Moments Gone
In between those moments gone,
And those wished to be...
I finally realized,
I can not continue to analyze my life.
It has to be lived.
In the time given I am living it!
This life!
My life.
And right I wanted it.
Free of tricks and traps.
No more patience could I give to that!
In between those moments gone,
And those wished to be...
I had to let go!
From the redoing of the 'what ifs'.
And the sitting with emotions reminisced,
To feel them still existing.
'Something' had to end.
I knew it was 'my' resisting.
And...
In between those moments gone,
I learned how to begin to believe...
In me!
And severing myself away from conflict,
Was no longer a question welcomed to visit.
It became my duty.
My reality.
To free my soul.
In between those moments gone,
And those wished to be...
I knew I had to maintain and hold onto my dreams.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Pursuit of Happy-ness
In search of happiness, travelled so far
Bought land & property, house & car
Could these buy me happiness
Sooner I realized nevertheless
We run for money all of life
We go without money in the end of life
Parked my thoughts and analyzed
To fetch big money, what all I compromised
Lost peace in the chase for a mouthful of sky
Time for my near and dear, never could I buy
Few memoirs only left etched in the mind
Can not back track the moments, I left behind
Set my dreams on fire
Endowed shape to my desire
To fulfill my wish
Did I become selfish
As I grew to realize life more and more
Cherished ecstasy, bliss, delights & adore
Facet of happiness is within self, I found
Lies in enjoying the smallest of things around
It is not about achieving everything we behold
It is about appreciating everything we hold
A fistful of life I am left only to owe
As long as I live, happiness only, I shall bestow
poem by Madhulita Das
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Ritual One
As I enter the theatre the play is going on.
I hear the father say to the son on stage,
You’ve taken the motor apart.
The son replies, The roof is leaking.
The father retorts, The tire is flat.
Tiptoeing down the aisle, I find my seat,
edge my way in across a dozen kneecaps
as I tremble for my sanity.
I have heard doomed voices calling on god the electrode.
Sure enough, as I start to sit
a scream rises from beneath me.
It is one of the players.
If I come down, I’ll break his neck,
caught between the seat and the backrest.
Now the audience and the players on stage,
their heads turned towards me, are waiting
for the sound of the break. Must I?
Those in my aisle nod slowly, reading my mind,
their eyes fixed on me, and I understand
that each has done the same.
Must I kill this man as the price of my admission
to this play? His screams continue loud and long.
I am at a loss as to what to do,
I panic, I freeze.
My training has been to eat the flesh of pig.
I might even have been able to slit a throat.
As a child I witnessed the dead chickens
over a barrel of sawdust absorbing their blood.
I then brought them in a bag to my father
who sold them across his counter. Liking him,
I learned to like people and enjoy their company too,
which of course brought me to this play.
But how angry I become.
Now everybody is shouting at me to sit down,
sit down or I’ll be thrown out.
The father and son have stepped off stage
and come striding down the aisle side by side.
They reach me, grab me by the shoulder
and force me down. I scream, I scream,
as if to cover the sound of the neck breaking.
All through the play I scream
and am invited on stage to take a bow.
I lose my senses and kick the actors in the teeth.
There is more laughter
and the actors acknowledge my performance with a bow.
How should I understand this?
Is it to say that if I machine-gun the theatre
from left to right they will respond with applause
that would only gradually diminish with each death?
I wonder then whether logically I should kill myself
too out of admiration. A question indeed,
as I return to my seat and observe a new act
of children playfully aiming their kicks
at each other’s groins.
poem by David Ignatow
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Next To Collect
You could be the next to collect...
RESPECT.
You could be the next on the list...
To get it and quick.
You could be the next to collect...
RESPECT.
Tomorrow no one knows,
Just what to expect.
You may be next to collect it!
An overwhelming love received.
You may be next to collect,
A joy that never leaves.
You may be next to collect it!
A one of a kind peace...
On your mind.
You may be next to collect it!
An overwhelming love received.
You may be next to collect,
A joy that never leaves.
You may be next to collect it!
A one of a kind peace...
On your mind.
You may be next to collect,
Just accept you are blessed.
You could be the next to collect...
RESPECT.
You could be the next on the list...
To get it and quick.
You may be the next to collect it...
An abundance of happiness.
The next to collect.
The next to collect.
You may be the next to collect it...
An abundance of happiness.
The next to collect.
The next to collect.
You may be the next to collect it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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In The Light Of A Dream
After such a mad dash through the
minutiae of adrenaline-driven reactions
in a fantasy world seen from a teenage
perspective - and denied the pleasure
of reading book 3 as my daughter is
still busy with it
I am left with ashes, the fires of the
characters' play-house emotions burnt
out leaving the reader with nothing to
take on our various versions of Pilgrim's
Progress, the excessively handsome
protagonists gone
Their artificial emotions in response to angels
and demons in conflict, their superficial life-
threatening injuries which heal immediately
showing no correlation with reality - left no
imprint on my psyche, wrought no changes
in my ideas and feelings
No catharsis experienced, a meaningless
romp through an imaginary world where
the storybook interactions of the super-
human characters are woven through
the tale like a silver chord shining in
the limelight of adjectives
The theatrical effect adorned with strobe
lights and applause and afterwards there
is nothing to take along, nothing changed
in my world view - since my purpose is to
understand society's shortcomings and
finding ways to change these
I resume my quest albeit with a sigh, escapism
is such an addictive drug, such a wonderful
thing, a moment of repose in the light of a
dream for which there is always space
according to quantum physics with its
postulate of infinities
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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0296 Casting for a new production
The second act went really well tonight,
pity it’s so near the end of the run,
it’s good enough for a West End transfer;
they’re a good bunch when we work together
no thanks, not tonight old man –
got some TV ad lines to learn,
well it’s good money for old rope…
seeyer chizmate
make-up off, stage door chat –
after a good perf., who wants to pub it,
hear yet again about how they triumphed together
in Romeo and Juliet god how many years ago
looking at them now – obscene..
*
When people used to tell me
how old people sat lost to the world
in a golden haze of memory,
I used to think
borING..! not me, not on your life…
but it’s not quite like that:
a touch of unexpected thought
may clothe loved actors in a new-stitched garb –
before you took the stage and they
were cast by you as your supporting roles –
they too were Romeo and Juliet,
throwing the curtains open on their red-eyed dawn…
and you, not even yet the twinkle
in the future’s eye…
they’d played the serving-maid, the page,
the jaunty clown, the flirt, the on-off, bright-eyed savagery -
the toilers in the burning, dusty sun,
the heroes in a life of war and peace,
had hopes you never knew or asked,
and then, invited you to join their cast…
these were such unknown people, just
as unimportant as you are seen as, now…
but loved, by those you never knew or thought of…
now, in your lean and slippered age
you can re-read their lines,
these fellow actors whom you thought
because they loved you, that you were their life…
now, as you re-write the stories of their lives,
cast them as beloved strangers
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Two Minutes Till Showtime
With as much fanfare
As could possibly be expected
The crowds gathered as one
In a flurry of excitement
The noise of chatter grew loud
Filling every corner of the room
The lights dimmed and shone
Across the empty stage
The final sound checks played out
While the performers waited in the wings
The fever of tension grew and built
For all the rehearsals would it be a hit
The songs and the story would it be enough
To answer the anticipation of the crowd
The nervous smiles and looks exchanged
Silence fell and filled the room
Time had come to take to the stage
The lights are up and the show is on
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Get Off The Stage
Oh, you silly old man
You silly old man
Youre making a fool of yourself
So get off the stage
You silly old man
In your misguided trousers
With your mascara and your fender guitar
And you think you can arouse us ?
But the song that you just sang
It sounds exactly like the last one
And the next one
I bet you it will sound
Like this one
Downstage, and offstage
Dont you feel all run in ?
And do you wonder when they will take it away ?
This is your final fling
But then applause ran high
But for the patience of the ones behind you
As a verse drags on like a month drags on
Its very short, but it seems very long
And the song that you just sang
It sounds exactly like the last one
And the next one
I bet you it will sound
Like this one
So, get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
And when we get down off of the stage
Please stay off the stage - all day !
Get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
And when weve had our money back
Then Id like your back in plaster
Oh, I know that you say
How age has no meaning
Oh, but here is your audience now
And theyre screaming :
Get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
Because Ive given you enough of my time
And the money that wasnt even mine
Have you seen yourself recently ?
Oh, get off the stage
Oh, get off the stage
For whom, oh ...
For whom, oh ...
For whom, oh ...
For whom, oh ...
Get off the stage
Get off the stage
Get off the stage
For whom the bell tolls
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadows Of Doubt
The reality of not knowing
After the curtain falls,
Breeds a fear deep inside
That runs through us all.
Selfish curiosity,
Self-made reasoning.
Is it for real, your paradise?
Or just a symptom of your mind?
Can you conceive? Can you believe?
Beyond your own shadows of doubt.
When you look into yourself
What do you see?
And do you think that what you are
Will always be?
Inner sanctuary.
Dream immortality.
Is it for real, your paradise?
Or just a symptom of your mind?
Can you conceive? Can you believe?
Beyond your own shadows of doubt.
Do you go your own way?
Or do you answer the call?
Do you cower and fear for your soul?
Or just laugh at it all.
Popular philosophy
Or plain insecurity.
Is it for real, your paradise?
Or just a symptom of your mind?
Can you conceive? Can you believe?
Beyond your own shadows of doubt
song performed by by Xentrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadows Of Doubt
The reality of not knowing
After the curtain falls,
Breeds a fear deep inside
That runs through us all.
Selfish curiosity,
Self-made reasoning.
Is it for real, your paradise?
Or just a symptom of your mind?
Can you conceive? Can you believe?
Beyond your own shadows of doubt.
When you look into yourself
What do you see?
And do you think that what you are
Will always be?
Inner sanctuary.
Dream immortality.
Is it for real, your paradise?
Or just a symptom of your mind?
Can you conceive? Can you believe?
Beyond your own shadows of doubt.
Do you go your own way?
Or do you answer the call?
Do you cower and fear for your soul?
Or just laugh at it all.
Popular philosophy
Or plain insecurity.
Is it for real, your paradise?
Or just a symptom of your mind?
Can you conceive? Can you believe?
Beyond your own shadows of doubt
song performed by by Xentrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bad Little Actress
I cant carry on
This play is too long
I must be going
Extend my regrets
I gave it my best
But now Im going
This is too much for me to take
Something tells me that shes faking it
She says she dont care
She wants to be fair
She must be joking
Its simple she said
Lets not lose our head
Tell me shes joking
This is too much for me to take
But somebody isnt faking
Someones heart is breaking
And if you see her give her my critique
Shes a bad little actress
Gets no curtain call
But the worst of all
When the curtain falls
Theres no one at the backstage door
Im more than her friend
cause I knew her when
She was no sensation
Shes wasting our time
Repeats all her lines
Whats her motivation?
Now she wont share her stage with me
Her performance was outrageous
Put me through some changes
So if you see her give her my critique
Shes a bad little actress
Her delivery dont come naturally
Anyone could see she doesnt mean a word she says
Her mascara ran
And the show was panned
But Im still her biggest fan
So when you see her give her my critique
Shes a bad little actress
Gets no curtain call
But the worst of all
When the curtain falls
Theres no one at the backstage door
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Live It As It Exists
More than a few are possessive,
Of a privacy they protect...
That, with time, gets for others,
Less accessible...
With no regrets.
Trust is a factor,
And the key to one's peace.
'Some' one knows do not honor this.
And eventually are discovered,
To be the core of disharmony...
Within a friendship that is thought to be,
Closer than it is in reality!
More than a few are possessive,
Of a privacy they protect.
And trust is a factor,
One wishes to keep unsuspected.
And when respect is an issue,
Anyone has to raise?
With those trusted in an inner circle,
That had not before been appraised?
Something about the need for this...
Should not be argued but dealt with quick!
More than a few are possessive,
Of a privacy they protect.
And trust is a factor,
One wishes to keep unsuspected.
With a peace of mind,
One should not have to define...
But live it as it exists.
There is no need for a quarrel,
To begin over it!
One should have what one deserves.
And to live it as it exists.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Stage Is Bare (A Michael Jackson Tribute)
The stage is bare
only a microphone stands alone.
A part of our life is gone;
no, more we hear the words and music
that once so tenderly graced our ears.
A gulf remains for the life not there,
now gone forever from our lives.
Only a memory of what had been
and what had filled so many empty souls.
The stage is bare
and all that remains is a ghost
of what had been.
A haunting memory of someone’s life
before they left the stage of life.
No more now the suffering of mortal pain,
they left with an always-remembered name.
Their star still shines
in all that remember a life that once was.
7 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Undress me! ! ! ! !
Living under a cover
Hiding me.....
Undress my emotions
I want to break free
The inside clown
Long left the stage
Under his mask
A human disguised
Friend, foe or love
This human decides
Changes identity
Changes faces
Amidst the crowd
Masks to change
How do i select? ? ?
When i've lost the clown......
Humans are not unique
Indeed not
Carrying their masks along
Identical and fake
My lost identity
Glued with masks
Shed me off this burden
Undress me
Undress me............
poem by Royston Serrao
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Players
The summer leaves in autumn fall
covering grass and garden walls.
A passing page on life’s stage
soon forgotten as the next season calls,
a circling unforgiving tide
that carries with it our passing lives.
Players are we upon the stage
of life’s ever turning page.
We live today and pray for tomorrow
that we may again grace the stage
of its next passing page.
And so life goes on
from birth and beyond
as players on the stage of life.
23 June 2009
poem by David Harris
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If Everyone Was Listening
The actors and jesters are here
The stage is in darkness and clear
For raising the curtain
And no-ones quite certain whose play it is
How long ago, how long
If only we had listened thein.
If wed known just how right we were going to be.
For we dreamed a lot
And we schemed a lot
And we tried to sing of love before the stage fell apart.
If everyone was listening you know
Thered be a chance that we could save the show
Wholl be the last clown
To bring the house down?
Oh no, please no, dont let the curtain fall
Well, what is your costume today?
Who are the props in your play?
Youre acting a part which you thought from the start
Was an honest one.
Well how do you plead?
An actor indeed!
Go re-learn your lines,
You dont know what youve done
The finales begun.
If everyone was listening you know
Thered be a chance that we could save the show,
Wholl be the last clown
To bring the house down?
Oh no, please no, dont let the curtain fall.
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Am I to Deny It Promise?
If I am not living my life today...
With the fulness that I should,
To be left feeling betrayed.
Then everyday I have lived my life,
Has been invalidated.
If I can say,
I am not living my life today.
I am dreamless without hope.
I give empty reasons to mope!
I am a vacant shell...
Existing in a hell I've created.
If I am not living my life today!
Where did I store those memories?
When did any happiness come to leave?
Why am I not pleased...
With anything that comes my way?
If I can say,
I am not living my life today!
And I breathe just to witness my breath...
Fade away into a nothingness.
If I am not living my life today...
What is this,
That IS!
And 'who' am I,
To deny 'it' promise?
Like a gift one receives...
Selfishly to leave unwrapped.
Can I honestly believe,
I am not worthy to do that?
If I am not living my life today...
Perhaps I should.
And unpack...
From sorrows deeply stacked.
Trapping my sight in darkness,
Without daylight I alone hold back.
If I am not living my life today...
With the fulness that I should,
To be left feeling betrayed.
Then everyday I have lived my life,
Has been invalidated.
And I know there is 'something' I value,
I can give!
To say 'that' is the reason,
I am here to live!
If I can remove myself...
To cast shadows,
Instead of finding an escape within them.
To live and let my life,
Be the one I have and learn to like!
Unfrightened.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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