A Humorous limerick takes the stage,
reading a limerick at any age.
Your fun words made me blush,
now I have a huge crush.
Take a bow for your words and go backstage.
Thumbs wiggling on east wing, backstage
lines skipped like a broken record
with trails of script on hand, sweat poured,
pale rose-in-waiting was I on moist page
Theater brimmed as crowds filled seats, agaped
bright spotlights roamed, my eyes rehearsed the words;
thumbs wiggling on east wing, backstage
lines skipped like a broken record
Panting fast, I tucked wired nerves in head's cage,
that as curtains blew, this name was soon called
recalling to breathe, my flesh was in crazed rage.
Wait! "Clear dry throat; focus on scenes contoured",
Thumbs wiggling on east wing, backstage.
, ,,,,,, ,,
*anxiety experienced before performing
the role of Medea on stage.
* Rondel form: consisting of 13 lines: two quatrains
and a quintet,rhyming as follows: ABba abAB abbaA.
The capital letters are repeats.
Posted under rondeau
for Susan's Wait Contest
19 July 2012
Learned lots of things in theater workshop class
I was surprised when I learned I had passed
Just one tool I'd not mastered
The great Nail Gun Disaster
I had nailed the director in the _ss
Entry for PD's latest limerick contest. Written June 6, 2012
Hey. Maybe he should take a bow
(All new prospects watching now)
So he's played the part before
Exits never leave him bored
Exits are his cry his cry for proof
Better safe then sorry now...
Not for him some ordinary girl.
You're a bit player in a one man show
If you're confused, get use to it
You haven't seen his acting yet...
He'll act and act (and believe)
You really had a say in this
He'll ask exactly what you think
Then blame your faulty reasoning
So maybe you should take that bow
A graceful exit beats a deathwatch now
No, of course...I don't know everything
(I'm just some ordinary girl)
But better safe then sorry now
He loves to leave
It makes him safe, keeps you brief
All new prospects, they're watching now
Let them break a leg, you take that bow
Behind my smiling, gleaming face,
Lie depressions unspoken,
Completely untold and unveiled.
Behind the felicit mask,
Stream tears of blood unstoppable.
The result of pains, unbearable pains.
And the leftover vague illustrations,
Of the runaway happiness
Which too…
Are only spondant memories.
Don’t judge a face
By the huge smile it stocks
Because behind the curtains
Swirl the fogs of grief…
…Of unemerged, untold unhappiness
This is the backstage of a smiling face,
So looking “jolly” face.
FATIMA KHAN
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