Best Offstage Poems
It had been a day full of miraculous detail.
Freezing rain played the ground like a kettle drum.
Trees snapped and flowers curtsied
before engaging in a pas de deux
with blades of grass on the stage
of this summer eve.
Our erupting blazing star...
Sported a set of yellow barn doors sorely in need of a paint job;
Closed shut with a heavy metal rusty lock seeping a golden shade;
Upstaging the blue sky and creating its own distinct wash
to signal the break of day.
A curvy curved river flowed naturally through
the mountains into a water colored sunset.
The moon waited patiently offstage with bedroom eyes
anxious to make her entrance.
And I,
Well - I just stood motionless,
Hoping to absorb it all;
Hoping to never take this planet for granted;
A non opiate
I like to call
Organic Ecstasy.
And not a sign of men’s hands anywhere in sight.
14~12~2014
Maurice Yvonne
Categories:
offstage, nature, planet,
Form:
Free verse
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
Categories:
offstage, epic
Form:
Epic
A red sun, pooling like a drop of blood,
coagulates at the edge of darkness.
And the night flows like a shadow, a flood
black as pitch, inking a seamless starkness.
A gilded moon, like a pitted gold coin,
beams in the sky as a beacon of light.
And like swarms of flashing fireflies, stars join
quasars and pulsars, twinkling in the night.
Dawn frets like a nervous actor offstage
practicing, to introduce the sun.
And as a gossamer breeze turns the page,
morning shimmers, like a web, freshly spun.
And the sun rises, a golden balloon
afloat in the air like a songbird's tune.
Categories:
offstage, beautiful, beauty, dark, image,
Form:
Sonnet
Black Powder
---------------------------------------
He waits offstage, his posture tense,
his gaze locked on the audience -
his first in years.
He blots the sweat that wets his face,
then walks onstage and gets in place,
amidst their cheers.
In bowtie, vest and dinner tails,
he's dressed down to his fingernails.
His face is flushed.
His eyes close tight, his breathing slows,
beyond his sight, the tension grows
The house is hushed...
If he can pull from knurled old trunks,
the Magic that their world debunks,
he can pretend
(at least until the curtain rolls)
it's still his show, and he controls
it in the end.
Illusion casts no lasting spell.
No, in conclusion, he's not well,
so... shifting gears,
he lifts his hat to loud applause,
black powder sifting out like gauze...
and disappears... *
---------------------------------------
Categories:
offstage, dark, death, good night,
Form:
Tail-rhyme
Our Tall Duckling (original title)
Our daughter, always through her childhood,
at least a head above any other girl in her class,
stands somewhere offstage now
with long lashes darkened by mascara
and with lips and cheeks painted pink.
She waits with other nervous pre-teens in her group
where I left them - acting silly and softly giggling
as many twelve-year-old girls grouped together are wont to do.
Adorable kindergarten-age girls are now on the stage,
tap-dancing out of sync to the tune of “Stray Cat Strut.”
As their music fades, they prance away, stage-left.
Our Angela, strikingly tall in her white sparkling tutu
and angelic as her name implies, sets foot on the stage
as if leading the flock of other lovely daughters
of other proud parents.
We collectively hold our breath - cameras ready -
as all the young girls converge in the center of the stage,
on ballerina tip-toes and with graceful, fluttering arms,
suddenly swans!
April 12, 2019 Inspired by Maureen McGreavy's Suddenly Swans Contest
Categories:
offstage, daughter,
Form:
Free verse
They waltz against the dark , offstage
Within a tearing pinch of light;
A pitch-black room …entrenched in rage
Was once the velvet cloth to skin,
Now ripped apart by hems of spite
As numbness dries low breaths, so thin
Frigid the steps…locked in a cage
Pale music on iced fingertips,
That dancing goodbye twirled with age
When frozen love changed to chagrin.
Smell of lilacs, damp as old page
Bitter this
Categories:
offstage, dance, farewell,
Form:
Rhyme
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
(Or: Rules Are Written By Idiots, Followed by Fools)
by Ron Arbuthnot
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
© ron arbuthnot aka ron wilson
Categories:
offstage, patriotic, philosophy, political, society,
Form:
Classicism
I am MacDougal's parrot, he taught me how to speak,
Whenever i repeat an obscene word, he chides, excuse your beak.
It happens when folk ask him, if i'm his cockatoo,
I'll fly into an awful rage, that's when the air turns blue.
He also has a butler, his name is Mister Ree,
Where the only time MacDougal talks, is sitting on his knee.
We are now entertainers, with unscripted repartee,
Where all our jokes backfire, upon the stooge, that's me.
I say, he says, let's holiday, i think i'll fly by air,
Then proffers me a bag of nuts, then says i'll meet you there.
But offstage we're the best of friends, together every day,
And listen to the radio, on stations where they play
The music from our favourite shows, where MacDougal's passions ballet,
While i am quite the opposite, for i'm more Tin Pan Alley.
We read the morning papers, and discuss the daily news,
Where we both agree to differ, and air our different views.
But slowly my suspicions grow, is there something i have missed,
Could MacDougal be a dummy, and Mister Ree his ventriloquist.
I would be disappointed, if it's reality,
Where MacDougal only could exist, with Ree's ability.
9/ 3/ 2018.
Categories:
offstage, friendship, spoken word,
Form:
Personification
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
© Ron Wilson
Categories:
offstage, adventure, angst, art, black
Form:
Imagism
logical greedy
uncles unshaven, rocks and
arks terrified philanthropic cherubim blessing
logical operators, terrified detainees stones and
arks attacked
through the blessing
of cherubim
embarrassed greedy uncles
unshaven, basins and stones, cherubim terrified
bothered
embarrassed with
blessing, agglutinate greedy
uncles' rocks thorough meaning
of rock reservoirs hassling cherubim
terrified thanks to
greedy inmate physical violence, embarrassed offstage
cherubim kindly surprised
by bathos, rough arks'
empathic blessing on
physical violence, greedy uncles frightened
thereby embarrassed
frocked, cherubim's blessing on
arks and materials
bald greedy
uncles unshaven rocked with
hassling cherubim's
terrified thanks to
thorough greedy
logical drives, lodestones and
arks
the blessing of
embarrassed cherubim offering for
empathic fear, greedy logical driven
arks and
stones
cherubims' thorough blessing wasting ends of
rocks and wells
thoroughly concerned, thoroughly problematic grasping
logical blessing on arks, asking avidly rocky
sensation uncles unshaven
kept asking for bodies frightened by
embarrassed
cherubim's blessing reasonable greedy
uncles unshaven
thoroughly, cisterns and stones
greedy cherubim's frightened thereby embarrassed thereof
kindly held sensual
means
thanks to powerful flint arks
greedy blessing given, frightened
bothers embarrassed cherubim's rocked eggshells through
physical violence, embarrassed
cherubim's blessing on froufrou
Categories:
offstage, allegory, allusion, creation, devotion,
Form:
Verse
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Categories:
offstage, satire,
Form:
Imagism
I remember the grey slithers of rain,
The jocular driver
As I boarded the bus
At Temple Meads,
And the friendly lady who told me
When we had arrived at the city centre.
I remember the little pub on King Street,
With its quiet maritime atmosphere.
I remember tramping
Along Park Street,
Whiteladies Road and Blackboy Hill,
My arms and hands aching from my bags,
To the little cottage where I had decided to stay
And relax between rehearsals,
Reading, writing, listening to music.
I remember my landlady, tall, timid and beautiful.
(The origins of "An Actor Arrives" lie in the barest elements of a story started but never finished in early 1980, while I was working at the Bristol Old Vic playing the minute part of Mustardseed in a much praised production of Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was originally rescued in 2006 from a battered notebook in which I habitually scribbled during spare moments offstage while clad in my costume and covered in blue body make-up and silvery glitter. And while doing so, some of the glitter was transferred from the pages with which they were stained more than a quarter of a century previously onto my hands...an eerie experience indeed.)
Categories:
offstage, england, memory, music, nice,
Form:
Free verse
November! When the auburn autumn leaves
retard the tinkling brooks of Vallombrosa,
and kitchen chimneys draw the old ones closer:
when timid fieldmice nestle in the eaves
and oaken chests give up our longer sleeves,
and finer fabrics cede the game to grosser:
we close John Grisham, open Vargas LLosa:
Orion rises, and Arcturus grieves.
But sometimes there’s a gracious interlude.
Though winter waits offstage with all its lines
word-perfect, still a kind of summer shines.
The breeze feels older now, of muted mood,
not so disposed to boast its vital signs,
inclined to amble through the golden vines.
Sonnet composed: 10 November 2019
New Fall Sonnets Poetry Contest 2019
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Categories:
offstage, seasons,
Form:
Sonnet
Noah will go First, soaring out of the Desert,Up and throughThe Surrounded Horizon ----of curt
Offstage Smiles, Indigo children who are Rain from the Sun.Wings of Alabaster Sin. {Death, in
your Arms}The affect is most disturbing and my smile Is Immediate.Giggling the flames grow
Higher,Oxycodone Soul 15mg EthSitting here sipping Hot Chocolate----Sacrament of the Risen
Christ Monster.Paregoric Babies of the World Unite,We have nothing to lose but our
Pushers,And to be Frank, every soul Needs them,If just to get Forward.(Would you want to Love
a soul never Burned?)(Never Stumbled?)How many years threaded together onMesc, K-Holes,
Gods hiding inside Mushrooms?Morphine, Oxy, the Thousand of Pills Sacrificed on an Altar of
thick red TongueTo numbing ThingsThat I No Longer Remember.I used to tell myself--- they
bought this beautiful Oak desk.The very Music playing (Bat for Lashes) in my Ears.But that’s
just an excuse for an Addiction.An Addiction to mere Altered States.No Specific Drug has ever
held my Attention…Its Just To Feel----- Other.…I am on Fire.My tongue Is frozen to the
Past.But really... I never Should of Licked it to Begin With.(Sudden)Spouting--- honeycomb---
Bright JoyStrolling by, its tail in the Fog.I Sink into my Bed like Kisses at the Bottom of
Stones.Searching,In this Slow Mattress, in these Black Sheets,What vital rapid Wings of a Lost
angel Dreams…Scarcely, with my Reason, with my FingersAnd its Disorderly Scissors sticking
into my Chest.I Will Find you Again.And This TimeI Will Hold On…Even If Its all Just one long
Ride to Hell,There Between your Thighs. The Waves of Hope are Crashing, Smashing
themselves to Death.I Am the JunkyThat No One Knows.Nobody on the Way to Nowhere…And
My Dear…My DearNowhere's a Hell of a Place…(yes)The Devil isn’t Dread,He’s just Away. In a
Round about Way(Like, So--- Buy the Dead Child a Sandwich)---------------Sniffing Lashing,
smile of Cheekbone to Chin,The Butterfly Kisses are Wanton.-Clapping, Balloons who Above all
Things, Hate Confusion.-Teeth which have No BiteAngels lacking the Fingers of Flight.Love me
Tonight.And Tomorrow …Burn the Remains.-thend-
Categories:
offstage, confusion, forgiveness, health, drug,
Form:
Blank verse
So many long-lost friends have come and gone;
like merging shadows consumed by the Night,
while my heart pines for their extinguished light.
Early on, they shone as bright as the dawn,
staying awhile, till time's curtain was drawn:
then, stepping offstage, they slipped out of sight.
Like actors auditioning for a role;
each flame flared, yet soon began to sputter,
playacting became their bread and butter.
And yet, their warmth still lingers in my soul;
tethered to fragile feelings that time stole,
and reduced to emotional clutter.
From failed friendships, I've managed to save
treasured memories I'll take to my grave.
Categories:
offstage, deep, emotions, feelings, friend,
Form:
Sonnet