Drama of Life
Our life is a drama and the players are we
The stage is wherever we want our feet to be
But we can't always choose the best place in a stage
and choose the part we act, it is GOD who dictates
the kind of story line, the plot we have to take,
when to raise the curtain and when the play must end
poem by Pacific Hernandez
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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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The play-writes curse
The play-writes curse
~
Give me a stage
and the world to write
give me characters
to fit my plot line
give me time and money
to assemble my script
that I may play with ideas
and work what fits
give me the option
for a sudden plot twist
give me set designers
who understand my mind
and actors to follow
whatever my command
give me wine and ink
that I may drink them both
in all my madness
give me your hope
give me this and a stage
that I may write you a play
but please I beg of you
before you give me anything
give me the opening line
poem by Matthew Holloway
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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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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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Morning in North Sligo
Slowly back the mist cloud moves,
as if drawn, like a duvet,
from a sleepers dream.
Like a stage curtain in
a drama, opens a play.
The moving mists the day.
Birds, thrushes and starlings
play on air, swoop and dip,
like scouts in early summer river,
dammed up beside their summer tent.
The mountains, awaken the ferns,
purple colored pall.
Rocks as if giants spoons,
turned upside down.
Old pigeons coughing a sound
on branches of trees,
observing, just that.
The others swoop and dive
upon the air,
await another time,
when tents rolled up,
and curtain closes over,
and drama is complete,
the story acted out
of generations,
another night.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
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God Created The Lamb And The Tiger Also
When God created the world, called it 'GOOD',
He didn't say some is good, some is bad, but this is our lively hood.
That is how here is only the LAW, where we can choose,
Life or malediction, positive or negative, hope or fear or we loose.
Some was created to follow the law,
Some to play out the law as a flaw,
Everything is just a passing play on the stage,
Go on, face your lessons, get wiser with age.
After many experiences you can figure out your part,
Whatever it is your part, play it with all your heart.
Do not try to be what you are not created,
Just follow your inner feelings, do not complicate, be right spirited.
However, the wise will find the way to fate,
Will choose life and never malediction & never hate,
They will live in perfect harmony,
No matter what goes on in the surrounding irony.
Remember, we cannot force the world for our will,
We can change only ourselves, then will disappear all the ill.
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
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Power Play
Dear Friends of the day,
I have not time for power play.
Life is too short and sweet,
I can't hear every heartbeat.
I have no time for strife,
I choose to enjoy my life.
I know who I am; where I'm going,
I won't carry power play along.
Power play becomes powerless
I choose to remain harmless.
A person with true power,
Overturns power play every hour.
Then power players look bad,
Even their faces look sad.
It separates the best of friends
Power play comes to an end.
I choose to be fair,
To avoid uncalled for despair.
I leave power play alone,
With my life, I move on.
poem by Barbara Dell Hobbs
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Convulsions of an old stage actress
Oh! The cracked lips are like a severe drought.
And the sunburn skin as an Ethiopian race.
Her sleepless eyes caught a bygone memory.
She was admired on the stage when the curtain raised.
And the incessant rain of clapping, where were they gone?
The playful audience.
Still she acts in the life-drama but no spectators.
The stage is almost dark and she hears the faraway theme song gradually draws nearer.
She does the rehearsal; 'Stagecoach has come with all the horses,
Before it gets dark I have to pass the woods.
So I leave the script here for my brothers & sisters and the drama is not yet over.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Putting words on hold
some words, some elaborate words
they have not acquired a life
in my system, so they shall not have
the chance to grace my humble stage - the page
i reckon they are still in the makeup stage
bewildering over which colours
to choose for their cheeks, nails
as well as the most flamboyant
outfit to go with them all
until they claim a character
of their own, they shall be held
in silence behind the large red curtains
of my academic stage
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Journey of Life
We are all on our way on a journey
Each has a destiny to follow
Should be without being phoney
There is no way to get out of the lessons of life,
Must follow our own feeling
To play the game from the heart without any strife.
Some tries to be goody-goody, but fights against everything,
Making their life full with problems
Sickness, tragic and suffering.
Just follow your feelings and know life is just a dream,
If you choose kindness or turn out as a bad guy
Either way you get back what you sow
But time will pass as a gleam.
However, when one understands who he/she is
Life become a happy journey
With peace, contentment and no more unsolved crisis.
Young, middle aged and old are just illusions in time
The soul lives forever
We are just players on the stage, playing out our own line.
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
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Choose
I choose focus
I choose freedom
to be happy, to have fun
to have a wonderful life
to be young, light and bright
I choose health, wealth
lands, treasures
I choose to trust, love
commitment, faith,
I choose to enjoy life
I choose the lord
I choose...
poem by Johnny Walks
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Sonnet: Choose The Things in Your Life
0 choose your friend who must be good as you;
And choose your spouse better than you; make sure;
And choose the one best as your Teacher too;
And choose ambitions that suit your nature.
0 choose the profession thats truly best;
And choose the hobbies that ne'er interfere;
And choose your Time to begin work, take rest;
And choose your enemies, you surely fear.
0 choose your food that gives extended health;
And choose your garments -comfortable wear;
And choose the honest way to added wealth;
And choose the burden right, body can bear.
0 choose the people who deserve help most;
And choose good principles, yet never boast.
poem by John Celes
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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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Derangement
Everyone who gets on a stage,
Believes they can act.
Then they believe they can sing.
Then dance and entertain,
Anyone captivated.
And anyone knowing what it takes...
Wish to drag those with limited beliefs,
Off the stage!
Since all of those who seek the spotlight...
Should seek someone to tell them the truth,
About their nonexisting talents!
All folks who reach for the stage are not performers.
And despite what Shakespeare stated...
'All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players.'
I must admit,
I have to respect his perspective.
However...
Very few of his roles were performed by women, if any
Back then.
And on these 'stages' today...
These 'players' should have entertained exiting,
Prior to revealing their production of 'Derangement'
It is much too real!
With the acting lacking motivation that connects honestly,
With a conviction that is felt.
They just throw this stuff together today.
With no training or class involved.
However...
The chaos depicted?
THAT is marvelously convincing!
Those scenes,
Absolutely gets everyone's attention.
Everyone gets to be involved.
And that's really my kind of 'theatre'...
A 'hands-on' affair!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Who I am on stage is very, very different to who I am in real life. But I don't see that having a sexy image when you are on stage means that you don't love God. No one knows what I'm really like from that. I like to walk around with bare feet and I don't like to comb my hair. I'm always so glammed up and so diva on stage and that's what they see. People don't understand that... No one knows my personal relationship with God and it's not up to me to prove that to anyone.
quote by Beyoncé Knowles
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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We Are what We Are
As Shakespeare said that all men and women
Are acting out a play,
If we know it or not, this is our way.
We are all on a stage and play the game,
Do what is programmed into our brain.
Everyone have a different role, never that same.
However, we have the right to choose
Life or malediction, let it not confuse,
But don't forget whatever we are or what we do,
For the moment that is our place to learn,
And find out eventually who is who.
We are like cars running on the highway,
Neither is first, nor is last, they all have a goal
To start and arrive somewhere without delay.
Every living creature, including mankind
Files their own life story to remind
When the life & death, happiness & misery
Comes together for the education
Of someone's discovery.
Our bodies were created of many cells,
But the ruler is our brain
If we are in misery, that's what they gain.
If we learn the wisdom to find happiness,
So will our cells be healthy, happy and flawless.
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
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Five Poems From “Helen: A Revision”
Nothing is known about Helen but her voice
Strange glittering sparks
Lighting no fires but what is reechoed
Rechorded, set on the icy sea.
All history is one, as all the North Pole is one
Magnetic, music to play with, ice
That has had to do with vision
And each one of us, naked.
Partners. Naked.
* * *
Helen: A Revision
ZEUS: It is to be assumed that I do not exist while most people in the vision assume that I do exist. This is to be one of the extents of meaning between the players and the audience. I have to talk like this because I am the lord of both kinds of sky—and I don't mean your sky and their sky because they are signs, I mean the bright sky and the burning sky. I have no intention of showing you my limits. The players in this poem are players. They have taken their parts not to deceive you [or me for that matter] but because they have been paid in love or coin to be players. I have known for a long time that there is not a fourth wall in a play. I am called Zeus and I know this.
THERSITES: [Running out on the construction of the stage.] The fourth wall is not as important as you think it is.
ZEUS: [Disturbed but carrying it off like a good Master of Ceremonial.] Thersites is involuntary. [He puts his arm around him.] I could not play a part if I were not a player.
THERSITES: Reveal yourself to me and don't pretend that there are people watching you. I am alone on the stage with you. Tell me the plot of the play.
ZEUS: [Standing away.] Don't try to talk if you don't have to. You must admit there is no audience. Everything is done for you.
THERSITES: Stop repeating yourself. You old motherfucker. Your skies are bad enough. [He looks to the ground.] A parody is better than a pun.
ZEUS: I do not understand your language.
[They are silent together for a moment and then the curtain drops.]
* * *
And if he dies on this road throw wild blackberries at his ghost
And if he doesn't, and he won't, hope the cost
Hope the cost.
And the tenor of the what meets the why at the edge
Like a backwards image of each terror's lodge
Each terror's lodge.
And if he cries put his heart out with a lantern's goat
Where they say all passages to pay the debt
The lighted yet.
* * *
The focus sing
Is not their business. Their backs lay
By not altogether being there.
Here and there in swamps and villages.
How doth the silly crocodile
Amuse the Muse
* * *
And in the skyey march of flesh
That boundary line where no body is
Preserve us, lord, from aches and harms
And bring my death.
Both air and water rattle there
And mud and fire
Preserve us, lord, from what would share a shroud
and bring my death.
A vagrant bird flies to the glossy limbs
The battlefield has harms. The trees have half
Their branches shot away. Preserve us, lord
From hair and mud and flesh.
poem by Jack Spicer
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Letter to God
dear god
how little i feel
about myself
despite your claim
that i am the top
of your creation
a little virus
would kill me off
i feel mysellf
a plaything
your plaything
a toy, a puppet
and the world your stage
with my role written
where i should play out my part
talk about freewill?
is there one?
one plus one equals two
an empty stomach
does not have free will
to choose?
a woman with
near dead child at her hands
knows free will is spoken
only by the gods
in their written scripts
to enliven their puppets
to act out
i know too after all
the theatrical parts
like a buffalo led by the noose
i will be torn out
of existence
as you plan your next play
like the sun
that comes after heavy rain
the land cleaned of its dirt,
where fresh breeze blows
i am but then
would be lost
in existence
consciouness
torn to shreds
to get your next
theatre going
not a trace of mine
would be left
on this stage
where i had acted out my part
with flesh, blood and soul
free will
no freewill and all
god, you the puppeteers
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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There are many stages to a man's life. In the first stage, he is young and eager, like a beaver. In the second stage, he wants to build things, like dams, and maybe chew down some trees. In the third stage, he feels trapped, and then 'skinned.'' I'm not sure what the fourth stage is.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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