Best Mime Poems
Trapped inside your box
Walls made of nothing more...
Nothing more than invisible profession
Soul tainted weak and sore..
drip..
Sorrow heart behind mask of paint
Tears strolling down the cheeks
Creating rivers of white pastel
And tales never to speak..
drip........................... drip..
Rain beats and pours
Heart's burn intense
No plans to repent
Of silent murder galore..
...bang...
Invisible voice from moving lips...
What is your plea, mime?
Pale skin and blank face
Visible hate in your eyes...
...drip.
Slowly I knock on your invisible door.
Listening for your cold heart and I wait
The silence comforts me and your heart is asleep
I pick up the invisible glass of your blood
It is drunk slowly as I taste and the savors
I don't have to be quiet but I am a Mime
I should have screwed my silencer on my gun
I wait at your door and hope you will see me
Amidst the shadows like wallpaper I hang
A single tear rolls on my whitened cheek and the glisten
I watch with an incredible ache as he comes in and the sadness
I gladly tap him on his shoulder so we can dance and I long
But I am not noticed and I shudder and yet I keep watch
And the pain
I see you again in the subway as I do tricks and my cup
My faithful cup filled with memories and coins
Coins that i can never use
I have no pockets to keep my feelings in and the coins
I slowly move and bravely part my lips
I gently and silently kiss your sleeping lips but am left bitter
Tomorrow i will do more of the same
Penning wrangled mime
and wared out of my skits,
I’m poked in serspiration,
My mind’s in fisted twits.
It’s not the way I spike to leak;
I’ve turned to try it down.
Still I'm rilled with florious grime,
so nothing dings me brown.
We poets are a lazy crot,
voiling with turds and worse.
Roping with the fools of corm,
dinditions so reverse.
A hong lot toke in the sub
might dude me a girl of wood.
Or how about a bun at the reach?
Well, I can’t wet a gay, but I should.
A Mime make a rhyme
Sure a Mime can make a rhyme
But who would hear it
POETICALLY MIME
The vast ash-leaden clouds are in tears again...
The soggy tears like boxing fists - casting bruise
and blues below. Unlike yesterday where they
mirror gentle caress to branchlets and blossoms
smiling in gratitude as they are showered free,
the dust and dirt slithered to them were cleansed
swept by the warm - cold kisses of heaven's cry.
Condescending, blooming sunnier hues of greens,
standing poised and aplomb amidst, respiring anew!
Rainy days chant tunes of melancholy at times
particularly to those who are lost. Alone. Afar.
However, it has to happen for it is nature's rhyme.
Let it be as heaven's cry a bosom of poetic mime.
___________________________________________________
POEM CONTEST: 265 REVISED to any form ANY THEME max of 20 lines
***9th Place***
SPONSORED by: Brian Strand
Written January 21, 2017 @ 23:18 PM
What’s the difference between a mime and a clown?
A clown will pull his pants down,
And make you laugh at that.
A clown will pull a 3-foot rabbit out of his tiny hat.
A clown will ride a unicycle up and down the aisle,
A clown will just make you laugh for a little while.
You’ll never see a clown cry unless you’re not happy,
And even then it still takes a miracle to make the clown go sappy.
A clown wears red and yellow and sometimes a bit of blue,
A clown wears a flower on his chest and also giant shoes.
A mime on the other hand is a totally different story,
He’s trapped inside a box and has little but few worries.
He pulls a fake rope with his white hands,
He will paint you an imaginary picture with his imaginary crayons.
A mime dresses in white and black and never says a word,
A mime gets run over by a moving car or so I’ve also heard.
So those are the difference between a clown and a mime,
I hope you enjoyed my little clown/mime rhyme….
Phantom faces rush past,
each towards their own destination.
How many souls in success last?
How many need show their appreciation?
Lives full of heartbreak, empty smiles and fake appearance.
Few have known the desired joy of the self-worth achievement creates.
One seeks contentment in talents,
yet crossing borders is the fear of many fates.
Those who find a talent,
often stop searching.
Those who never do, lament,
their regret always lurking.
Wasted years, pursuing Vision’s allure:
Stressing, enslaved to a race against time
in a world where there is no place for failure,
yet we fail ourselves, the mirror reflecting not a person, but a mime.
Words that echo the sublime
Each syllable resounds a doleful chime
Accentuated by a bleak, monotonous rhyme
That skews the cadence and scuttles the time
Words that filter through, then prime
Heart's engine to slowly pine
Fueled by structural anomalies; sick, semantical serpentine
Break lines that throttle, then realign
Soul's transmission shifts in gear to divine
Sorrow and suffering in every byline
Each strut, an awkward bounce that jars the dragline
Leaky, cracked manifold manifest in every squeaky note, sign
Incongruent parts renovated to shock by design
Tales-end, toxic fumes will every literary splice twine
Finish will be sealed with a lackluster shine
Farcical characters of ill gestures,
they be no friends of mime
Mute clown suits
wearing viol marionette smiles
all of the puppet string time
I tell you, of a silent truth,
those pretzel-tongue jester troupes
are theatrical buffoons
spoofing on a global would trivial comedy stage
These ol' pantomime hucksters,
dipstick lip syncing on babble timer delay rage —
Crying out loud,
them cold quip cheeky blusters
never were any spoken for friends of mine
Just some dumb glow, dim enemies ...
who always pearly grinned a dumber shine
Mime starts the show when form distills;
Yield in sure time the vibrant grooves.
Sense profound flow in curling fill;
Touch body rhyme that swirl still moves;
Incline the poise as body seeds;
Charm with silence that shouts and speaks.
Move visual choice to spacial feed;
Align brilliance with steps you streak;
Give in slow time what stillness can;
Incite a surge of pleasant fare;
Charm works with chimes that fit a plan.
Feel follows urge in moves you wear;
Induce a show beyond mere feel;
Tell a firm flow where stillness heals.
Leon Enriquez
09 April 2015
Singapore
The moon and the stars bide their time
Mute mimics in Mother Nature's mime
The sun shines brighter as they watch
Hoping their light will go up a notch
The woods look inviting, shaded and green
Birds twitter happily behind the scene
Animals prowl about in a hunter's game
Near the roaring river in a picturesque frame
Weeping willow waves in weary wistfulness
As shaggy shadows shift into shapelessness
The sun has set, now time has arrived
For the moon and the stars to get revived
They cast their glow on a sleepy world
Brightening the black blanketed dreamworld
10.18.2020
For "Collaboration with the Silent One" contest
Quietly with a hum, only I can hear
Silent words yet so loud that the world can hear,
I’ll touch where none other has
The heart of the world!
Swallowed by the deep stares
That penetrates my very being from the world's eyes
I'll silently walk the road of destiny
Carefully,
Gently,
But whistling,
Dreaming,
And combing through the beautiful lashes of its eyebrow
As I Scale the rough walls that surrounds its being
Until I can reach the very soul of the world.
tho life is a puzzle at times
i find myself more like a mime
i keep my mouth closed
and watch from shadows
and piece it together just fine.
Gesturing, in the scarborough fair,
Behind the ears, tucking those black and white hair, he shall eat the pain and fight the fear...
The black nails which outgrow from his white hands, lets the people stand and look at his absurdities...
The pain he describes in his absurdity, to the people, he displays his melancholy...
Falls he, breaking down in tears he got through fate, rises he and never speaks, acts sedate.
Paid he is the coins with the rusted brass, for displaying his melancholy, in absurdities...
Laughs he, as the tear slides down till his lips, turns he, wipes his tear as the crowd strips... Smiles he, as he reminiscences his dears, he gets up and dances again, forgetting those tears.
(November, 2013)