Acting Poems - Poems about Acting

When I look in the mirror each morning This dude stands there sending me a warning Smarten up there dude Stop acting like a boob Or a lump on the head you'll be adorning ...

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The greatest teacher I have ever known never worked in a classroom. He was an actor and radio announcer of some renown. A man of many talents, I'd assume. He directed me once when I was acting in a play, and he'd let me know - right away! - if he didn't like the way I'd say a certain line (sometimes to...

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When the minister got angry the employees cowered in fear although they knew It was just an act....

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Effort is important in whatever you do Knowing where to make an effort makes All difference by consistent focus on The result and things that's effective Creating way for greater opportunities When you thought you've seen it all You've seen nothing until you've toured The world meet with different people with different cultures, attitude etc Only then you'll know it is what...

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Friendships, wordy scripts, cameras, microphones and venue blips. Call security, no need to be shirty, let's go again.. scene five, take thirty. Action. Cut. Time for tea. The bar is closed but coffee's free. The waiting patiently never ends. We chat we laugh. We're making friends. The brushes flash across my brow.. my shirt is...

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Look at this smile on my face, do I look sad and alone. With no one to give me love, and no one to call my own. Can you look into my eyes, see them filled with happiness. Would you ever realize, my life is in such a mess. Chorus: I should be a movie star, for playing this happy...

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AN ACTING LIFE A young, shy boy enters stage left. The date, November ‘fifty-three. And, though you’d not believe it now, That shy young man was me. I hadn’t wanted to be there, I was convinced that I’d fall flat. I spoke my first line nervously. The audience laughed – and that was that! I was hooked in that moment of magic And knew I...

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Guy starred at the Octagon, when he was just a lad, and all the reviews. in the Bolton News, said that he wasn’t too bad. His mum said it was destiny, his dad said it was karma, when Guy got his kicks, down the A666, at Salford studying drama. From the Exchange to the Everyman, he took the stage by storm, the London critics, even...

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I can be a wretched fake, in private, intimate performance. I’m an actress capable of imitating spontaneous pleasure - by tricks of hesitation, convulsive vocal play and postures. A mimicry undetectable to an immediate spectator. Aww, thank you, I’ll sigh, as if leaving a good party. “I’ve got a lot of homework to do,” I’ll add, a minute later. To clear...

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Sometimes I am a shadow Casting images upon a wall Having no effect on life A curiosity to all Sometimes I am a rock Moved by others pain At times like this I wonder at the thought That I am insane Sometimes I am an animal Drifting along at whim Doing things without a thought Of love of life or limb At times you...

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I do foolish things when I’m blue when I’m sad and missing you I do foolish things like dancing all night foolish things drinking everything in sight foolish things shopping til I drop foolish things somehow I cannot stop doing foolish things when I’m blue when I’m sad and missing you I do foolish things watching ‘parks & rec’ all night foolish things drinking coffee until daylight foolish things dragging friends on crazy romps foolish things somehow I...

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The disgusting side of Jack's nature Is his bearing of Doctor's stature A will to give medical lecture The Doctors robe drape in bold picture... Feel Jack would his feet for temperature, A long bleeding stop with ligature, An open wound evenly suture; One's health in medical terms capture... Jack's hands watch for feverish coldness, When they start trembling more boldness Something his doctor friends...

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More Exposed, at 5.47 am I write poems like Wilt Wittman. It’s true, the first draft of anything is , all for a lasting minute. However, creating agitated intestines involves experiences and years of discipline. At that moment, receiving text messages, “I can’t live this way”, “life’s too precious”, and “we are finished”. Towards the end...

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Life’s a performance, The world is a stage, There is no script to follow, Not even the ghost of a page, You can play an important part, No matter what your age, You can be an author, An actor, a director too, The role you take And what you do with it, Well – That...

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Always pretty good at acting; But faking it off stage? No, I’m not; Heart on my sleeve when I’m happy; Made up anger conceals happy, yet accurate it’s absolutely not; Words of clay dribble through acting; Familiar mask, waste not want not; Heaven forbid you make me happy Mood swings a pendulum acting; I’m exhausted acting not happy....

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