Best Final Curtain Poems
Parched and dry, this barren field stretches,
I wander, head hung low,
staring at the emptiness eclipsing my thoughts
Brittle blades of grass disappear beneath
my worn out sneakers,
black and white crushing beige
in slow fashioned footprints of blistered dust
“My sanity for some cool water”
When upon my shoulders, reddened by solar intensity,
wet from exerted energy, comes a breeze
as if Autumn has come to claim her colors,
to gather her brown and sepia landscape,
pull the lifeless trees, with little leaf
from the chalk textured ground taking it
where it would suit another, for this is my luck
"Take my shade I beg not, for it is merely a branch”
Like fingers of a silken web’s reach,
a soft caress of skin is not understood, though very pleasant
Nature finds me a shiver, a small comfort in this arid place
once crawling with snakes of assorted length, now
green as if lush has just been defined
with sweet air and pomegranate skies featuring a glow,
pristine shades of which I’ve never seen, heavenly
“To whom might I thank for such a gift?”
When before me stands, my eyes saturated and lost
slowly focus on beauty, winged loveliness now smiling within my own
personal oasis, which quickly forms in my heart
An angel, a goddess, extends a hand to me?
My cracked and weathered palm touches, smooth, gentle
her hand as she lifts me, I am weightless, floating
to her, my breath leaves me as I wonder, is this my end?
“If this beauty shall be my final curtain, let it be dropped slowly”
A voice of velvet speaks, as I fade in and out of reality,
now steadied by her touch and the sweet scent of lavender and lime
“I have come to you as a verse, for poetry is thy keeper,
thy words have been heard,” lyrical this voice sings
melodic and harmonious, a rhythm to the beat of my heart,
the race of my pulse, the love of my life, my muse, my all
“Eternal to you I shall write, for your beauty fuels my pen”
*I feel this poem speaks of poetry, the reason we are all here. To find and share our muse, to be inspired and grow together in poetry. It also was a step out of my comfort zone for me as this was an early write of mine where I tried a few new ideas.
No encore demanded, I stand alone
No applause as I hang up my ‘microphone’
But what do they care, for no empty chair
Has ever acknowledged good tone
I took to this stage in a different age
I think then, the Stones were the rage
Yet, I’ve appeared here, daily for years
And sung like a songbird uncaged
But this, my last bow, arthritic now
Elicits no ‘Bravo’ or ‘Wow’
I gave it my best, my stage put to rest
A field I can no longer plough
For fifty years hired, tomorrow retired
This caretaker? No longer required
So thanks for the chance, to sing and to dance
Enacting the dreams I desired
My time to go, my time to rest
The silence now, inside my chest
Applause resounds, my lights go down
I take my leave, where I lived best
`
Parched and dry, this barren field stretches,
I wander, head hung low,
staring at the emptiness eclipsing my thoughts
Brittle blades of grass disappear beneath
my worn out sneakers,
black and white crushing beige
in slow fashioned footprints of blistered dust
“My sanity for some cool water”
When upon my shoulders, reddened by solar intensity,
wet from exerted energy, comes a breeze
as if Autumn has come to claim her colors,
to gather her brown and sepia landscape,
pull the lifeless trees, with little leaf
from the chalk textured ground taking it
where it would suit another, for this is my luck
"Take my shade I beg not, for it is merely a branch”
Like fingers of a silken web’s reach,
a soft caress of skin is not understood, though very pleasant
Nature finds me a shiver, a small comfort in this arid place
once crawling with snakes of assorted length, now
green as if lush has just been defined
with sweet air and pomegranate skies featuring a glow,
pristine shades of which I’ve never seen, heavenly
“To whom might I thank for such a gift?”
When before me stands, my eyes saturated and lost
slowly focus on beauty, winged loveliness now smiling within my own
personal oasis, which quickly forms in my heart
An angel, a goddess, extends a hand to me?
My cracked and weathered palm touches, smooth, gentle
her hand as she lifts me, I am weightless, floating
to her, my breath leaves me as I wonder, is this my end?
“If this beauty shall be my final curtain, let it be dropped slowly”
A voice of velvet speaks, as I fade in and out of reality,
now steadied by her touch and the sweet scent of lavender and lime
“I have come to you as a verse, for poetry is thy keeper,
thy words have been heard,” lyrical this voice sings
melodic and harmonious, a rhythm to the beat of my heart,
the race of my pulse, the love of my life, my muse, my all
“Eternal to you I shall write, for your beauty fuels my pen”
My ink is running dry
and I want to cry.
My muse isn't well
only time can tell.
It is on life support
all plans must abort.
Alexis Y.
08/22/2021
His calloused finger tips - caressed the stings With fire - one last time-
As he played - the cords of his emotions - with passion - as he climbed-
A lifetime - of memories -burned brightly- that night- upon the strings-
Flames- from his soul- flew through the coliseum- on golden wings-
The music of his life - touched every heart-with the beauty of its sound-
Then - bowing to a roaring ovation- he brought - the final curtain down-
~~~~~
final curtain
by Michael R. Burch
what would u give
to simply not exist—
for a painless exit?
he asked himself, uncertain.
then from behind
the hospital room curtain
a patient screamed—
"my life! "
Originally published by Setu. Keywords/Tags: final, curtain, death, mortality, suicide, euthanasia, uncertain, uncertainty, indecision, exit stage right, quick, painless, exit, hospital, patient, hospice, pain, painful, examination, surgery, existence, nonexistence, epitaph, eulogy, cancer, voice, stress
THE FINAL CURTAIN
It is appointed unto man once to die --- what then? and as the throes of death o'ertake me, will I enter some celestial place? If so, will I sojourn for eternity or be floating out in space beyond the firmament? Will my body lie in sweet repose for people to come and view my remains and perhaps besmirch my good name? What of my lissome spirit? What will become of it? Will it spiral off into nothingness as though it were a pinion driven by some magical gear? Yes, these are questions that arise in the minds of people who have no true understanding of life after death. The final curtain will fall for all mankind and he will face his eternal destiny. What is your destiny to be? Your answer lies solely with you!
22 May 2018
For the contest sponsored by Laura Loo
When the final curtain softly descends, and the echoes of my days retreat,
I want to whisper to the wind that all my life, I was a bride betrothed to amazement,
In the silent embrace of dawn's first light and the whispered secrets of twilight.
I was the bridegroom, holding the world in my eager arms, feeling its heartbeat in my own.
Each breath, a vow to wonder, each heartbeat a promise to the extraordinary,
For in the tapestry of existence, I wove dreams with threads of stardust and sighs.
As the sun rose and set, its golden rays caressed the earth, so did my love for the marvels of this world unfold,
With eyes wide open in the innocence of eternal curiosity, heart open to the embrace of mystery.
When the journey reaches its final bend, I don’t want to wonder if my life bore significance,
But to know, in the marrow of my being, that I was in constant communion with the sublime.
I walked through gardens of amazement, each flower a testament to the fire within,
For I did not merely traverse; I danced, I sang, I wept, I rejoiced with every fiber of my soul.
I do not want to end this symphony of existence with a sigh of regret or a tremor of fear,
Nor do I want to be caught in the web of endless arguments, a mind at war with itself.
Instead, let my spirit rise with the dawn, unburdened and weightless, free as the first breath of spring,
Having lived not as a mere visitor to this world, but as an integral note in its eternal song.
When it’s over, let me be a testament to the beauty of living fully, of loving passionately,
For I was the bride to amazement, wed to the miracles both mundane and profound.
I was the bridegroom, embracing the world with unwavering devotion,
Let my legacy be one of soulful engagement, where every moment was kissed by the lips of wonder.
In the twilight of reflection, amidst the gathering shadows of memory,
Let me know that I did not squander the gift of existence, nor did I shy away from its relentless grace.
Let the stars write my story on the celestial dome, a tale of passion and serene acceptance,
For I was here, not as a passerby, but as one who lived, truly lived, in the arms of amazement.
Booth. How you hated the Union.
The end of suffrage you so despised.
One in the brain of the great orator.
Death in the theatre.
Sic Semper Tyrannis.
eschatology --
suspend its final decree
~ immediately
Long time I stood
In the middle of a crossroad
Trying to find my way
On the shades of black and gray
I found ups and downs and plains
And humps as big as mountains
I found muds and puddles
And I jumped through countless hurdles
For the tides of time are cruel
Like sickles that rip my soul
Like the winds and storms in fall
That blind me out of my goal
But the most gruelling of all
Were the heights I took to fall
But I shall dare to try again
For faith in thee is my captain
For in thee is my final curtain
No matter how high is the mountain
No matter how deep is the pitfall
I'll be with you after all
(To Joe and Sandra Hudson)
The lights dim, why am I so grim? I just get nervous about singing to Him.
The projector illuminates the screen with words to sing.
We pray that God will shine through our voices, I know when we sing He rejoices.
Sandra starts us with the steady rhythym of her bass, the peace of God shows on
her face.
Joe and I help complete the vibe, together we get the air alive. Alive with music,
it's a beautiful sound, I know we encourage our small crowd.
Terry gets the beats down, on his set of drums, sometimes we joke around,
when we miss it, for awhile to come.
But we are so much better, than we used to be, 'cause then Sandra didn't play
the bass, and I was afraid to sing.
Now I know more chords than Joe (let's keep this between us, you know?).
They're a little bit country, Terry and I are mostly rock and roll, but diversity keeps
us moving forward.
And more of this band than just part, God is the complete and total heart.
'Til the final curtain.
In this life, one thing is certain;
One bet you can put your shirt on.
However pure a life we lead,
We’ll all face that final curtain.
A fact of life we all must heed,
Whether judged to fail or succeed.
It makes no difference in the end.
Dying will be our final deed.
If good, they say we may ascend
To heaven, whilst the bad descend
To an eternity of woes.
I wonder which place I’ll attend.
Is there a heaven? God only knows.
I’m not sure where the body goes.
We’ll only find out, I suppose,
After those curtains slowly close.
I will soon forget
the laughter that I could give
when life felt so right
When the last curtain does fall
there will not be an encore
I stand on my mark
Dust motes float in the spot light
I curtsy left, right
There is no applause to hear
No one to see the last act
The seats are empty
The isles are not crowded
The doors are boarded
All that is left on this night
Is the final toast farewell
We each seek for solace
Amidst a port in a storm
Some insist to even curse
The very day they were actually born
Others listen in silence amidst the violence
Sought a peace from two different worlds
One soul soars while the other one burns
Each of us wanders as nomads
Life is made up with little moments
We remember are past but forget the future
Singing sounds to the deepest melody of are hearts
Light the fire to ignite the flame to start
To what we have been waiting for
Let pure love be the duration of our lives
Life is built on snap shot moments
Look at nature through solace
Each season of life has a new perspective
Up through the fonal curtain oe even beyond