Best Rehearsals Poems


Premium Member Sunshine On Leith

The rehearsals are over and now it’s first night
All worked tirelessly for the audience’s delight
It all flows so smoothly – oh what a relief
A fabulous production of ‘Sunshine on Leith’

The show tells the story of the ups and downs in life
Of Scottish couple Rab and Jean his beautiful wife
Soldiers Ally and Davy return from fighting in war
Can Liz and Yvonne find the love they are looking for?

Great singing and acting, graceful ballet dancing too 
The cast and crew worked so hard to bring this to you
With a song in each scene  - some left your toes a tapping
Each Act was brilliant and had the audience clapping

18th February 2015
Written as a tribute for the amazing school production I saw on 5th February

Every Goliath Has a Stone

Die on your feet or live on your knees
Live as slave or die bold and free
Ringing that bell of liberty
Through thorns and thistles
Bomb blasts and war whistles
Floods of fire start to sprinkle and sizzle
Taking a stand or even walking alone
Every Goliath has a stone

Stumbling blocks turn into stepping stones
Conquering the crooked and dividing the spoils
Monsters of madness turned into blood and bones
Every Goliath has a stone

Facing our fears with a force called faith
Shooting the devil straight in his face
Mice turn into men and jokers get aced
Taking new lands with righteous revival
No time for rehearsals
No time for recitals 
Victory is vital
Every heart should have a home
Every Goliath has a stone

The Distance of Silence

The falling leaves danced
With the randomness of time
And flow of restless souls,
Moving on. Passing-by.
Grayer shades clothed
The dying accent of the setting sun
And in an hour,
You will be gone.

Those sobbing rehearsals
With the rain,
Are but futile train
Of affirmations spoken
Behind the mirror.
I stammered, as the words
Tried to come out;
Although the wind knows
What to shout.
And while you silently crept
In the corridor,
Love went out the back door.

So this time:
Let silence be my words
And tears do the conversation.
For everything here bear your trace.
Your whispered voice,
Grows louder in the emptier space
You left behind.
And in every crowded place
I know, I will always
Find your face.
That even numbness
Can not overcome the pain
Of which, I am to blame.

As I grip your loss
In the recesses of my mind,
I  will weep.
For I can't stand
the thought of missing you!
Even though,
You were never mine.
Because, I haven't
Tried.

©Dean Maloloyon


Following

Following the tumor blooms
that muted my throat and gut,
I duct taped my mind
to the wordless, I put my head down 
charging at daggers, and
thanks to pain bullets and cancer bombs
my thoughts are catching a little headwind.

I'm looking at a sea otter floating on its back
agilely playing with stones,
it’s definitely working the crowd.
I'm looking at a lion staring into a camera,
under its heavy paw a gazelle is also staring into a lens;
are they waiting for applause?
I'm looking through a shop window 
at televisions that are 
revealing all this, plus my gazing reflection.

We can all do better, more rehearsals	
will eventually take our perfect picture,
meanwhile it’s important to look good
as time stops, then continues to drain away
in its usual hazardous way.

Deep Moon Cave

In the deepest river caverns, in the furtherest chambers of my soul,
       There are secrets hidden there that can ne'er be told.
Secrets of another life, another way, another time.
       Secrets hidden for eons in the recesses of my mind.
Decades come and decades go but these secrets never dull or grow old.
       I am ancient and flow with the tide but I'm still precious as new gold.
In days gone by, I couldn't be in the sun, so at night I would get out and run.
       The moonlight gave me power to spin on the sockets in a gun.
When dawn would approach, I would hide in the caves on the moon.
       Ere one would catch me asleep in a dune.
In the caves there are those whose lives helped to change me.
        Toby so grand on his motorcycle riding and settling by a tree.
I guess maybe he might have been waiting for me??
        Audrey a beauty who could write such beautiful verses 
And could quote them superbly without any rehearsals.
        There was Russ from across the moon at a far away prison gate,
He also forgot what it's like to be forgotten and counted by fate too late!
       There's Carol, sweet Carol, who went through more than anyone will ever know.
And beautiful Linda, who always blew my mind away, but I ruined it with a big blow!
       And of course Jimmy, who's so much like a son, and I hope as the ages go,
He will realize his importance in the changes in the caves that will show.
       Last but not least nor most nor less is Ruben who has blessed all our lives.
Not just mine but everyone on the moon needs Rubin's touch. for he is so gentle so kind.
       Even though the caves are getting larger and the secrets are getting deeper,
He will always defend the truth and on this large moon will be a just keeper.
       For you see he keeps the soul secrets in the moon caves forever.
Praying and hoping that one day they can be revealed, but then again, maybe never!

Premium Member When All Seems Lost

When All Seems Lost 
Kevin Davis 2025

When all seems lost, and pathways fade away,
Listen close to your soul — it will not loudly say.
It speaks not quickly, nor flickers faint and wan;
When you're prepared to hear, it lives inside your brain.

Your answers bloom from everything you've learned,
A quiet catalog of the many lessons earned.
From day one, you've been training for this fight —
Trust that inner lantern guiding you through the night.

When all is lost, hush — your soul will show the way:
Quiet echoes of each lesson learned each day.
From childhood's small rehearsals to the trials you've known,
Inside you lives the answer — softly, but your own.


Premium Member Marching Band

"Marching Band"
Dapper dilettantes take over one hundred yards 
Showing their feathers like a cockatoo on pointy shakos 
Displaying their talents on grass they are anything but green 

Ready to give resplendent resonance through beasts of golden brass
Popping percussive drumming getting drilled into them by a sergeant
Time and time again by so many rehearsals they know formations by heart
The time for sweat and tears is over, they are here to perform

Atten hut! 

Impressing the crowd with baton twirling 
Majorettes turn into marionettes as the sergeant pulls their strings
Compact formation now, the crowd will wait for hot dogs
Watching a half time special while they stand alert in place

About face!

Witnessing scintillating choreography with a one, two turn
The symbols get their chance to be rim shot participators
And the Grand Marshall leads the baton twirlers aside
For the color guard and their blinding high definition radiance 
 
No one is out of phase and the scene is picture perfect
Then they dive into the scatter drill 
Show their true talents with life, love and liberty to move where they want
Individual inspiration takes over each one to the ensemble 
This is the real reason they are here, for happiness 

They make way for the gymnasts while maintaining play
Who express their own interest in the spectacle of somatic arts
Triangles and fantastic figures on three people straddled high
Build in the crowd a new love for geometry

They have to give way though in good measure 
To guns of glory and so many shots sent high in the air
Puffs of smoke are burst sky high, evaporating a salutary good bye 
Thanks for watching

Ode To My Clarinet

Hours after hours of practice
Making sounds that are polished pearls 
Connected by a thin string made up of
Accelerando, arpeggios, and articulation
O, what wonderful colours you have!
Measures after measures of music
Playing with deep emotions that flow
Sometimes, the stream in the green meadow on a sunny day
Other time, the ruthless ocean during a thunderstorm
O, what diverse sentiments you convey!
Days after days as time passes
Never failing to sooth the heart and the soul
Inspiring in a way that builds and constructs 
Confidence, courage, pride, and esteem
O, what comfort you provide!
Rehearsals after rehearsals with the full orchestra
Stepping onto the stage of the world famous Carnegie Hall
Performing in front of a full house audience, the cadenza 
In Offenbach’s Orpheus in the Underwood Overture
O, what memorable experiences you bring!
© Timmy Wang  Create an image from this poem.

Broadway Opening Night

The lights are slowly dimming 
The curtain's going up 
The stage-hands take their places 
The scenery's all set-up 
The Orchestra is waiting 
For the Conductor to cue them in 
The audience waits expectantly 
For the overture to begin 
The Singers wait backstage 
Sipping tea to warm their throats 
Softly singing scales 
And praying they'll hit their notes! 
The Actors mouth their lines 
Hoping they won't forget 
(The producer wants a hit 
So he can get out of debt!) 
After all the hassles 
Of auditioning for the part 
Six months of rehearsals 
And giving their all for art 
They wait with bated breath 
Whispering "This is it!" 
Wondering, while the curtain's going up 
"Do we finally have a hit?" 
This isn't just a job to them 
They love the work they do 
And when they walk out on that stage 
The audience loves them too! 
So let's hear it for the showpeople 
Who live to entertain you 
After all the heartbreak and rejection 
Their reward is applause from you! 

Copyright 2003 Beatrice Boyle 
(All rights reserved) 

  Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades

Nativity Play

(True story)

As nativity plays go, this one was a doozy
with plenty of chances to fail
and even after all the countless rehearsals
it did, on a Biblical scale.
My part, I was Joseph, and Barbara was Mary,
the Jesus doll wrapped in a sheet
three wise men in the wings with tea towels on their heads
plus trainers and pumps on their feet.
The donkey was resting, a little bizarre
since the creature was mounted on wheels
and in the light of the candles it's red plastic handle
just made the scene slightly surreal.
The stable was made from the school's Wendy house
for the play they used just two hinged walls
as the wise men came Joseph leaned back on one arm
and the whole structure started to fall.
The look from the prompt at the front of the stage
signified I was in real deep trouble
as the magi and shepherds all valiantly scrambled
to pull Mary from out of the rubble.
The infant child surfaced though held upside down
from the tangle of thatch straw and rafters
as his messenger Gabriel rolled on the floor
in a fit of hysterical laughter.
The following year I found I was demoted
as teacher didn't want to lose sleep
over what new disaster I'd find myself master
so I took the back row as a sheep.
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.

No Bigger Than a Baritone Horn - Part Ii

Minimal involvement with extracurricular activity at Methacton
   limited to playing Baritone Horny within the band
   though marginal interest existed to maintain constancy 
feigning noteworthy interest second to none
   eventually Mister O'Donnell 
   (I remember without mental exertion - surmising that tubby name 
   of bandleader) synonymous with attitude ill suited, 
   thus loss being banned haint grand
 loss, and subsequent loss did not stun, 
   nor disheartenment arose to forego hearing 
   future applauding hand, or standing ovation
and felt reprieve, relieve, when refused further sharing of any awards won
   yet the greatest joy arose to even the score for decision 
   foisted upon me to play Baritone Horn now a choice I manned
in tandem with with late afternoon rehearsals 
   necessitating this boy not much bigger than the baritone horn
   to make a mad dash with truckload of academic material 
   plus encased “mini tuba,” which constantly banged upper right thigh,
   and nearly tripped me to go flailing head over heals.

Exhaustion (a welcome relief with sprinting the distance – 
possibly even setting a world record) getting linkedin 
(half heartedly envisioning myself whizzing 
across the mountains viz tour de France
measuring a winning distance – quite an expanse
whereby giving the strong armed cyclist brandishing his lance
a run...er rather pedal for his money, 
   yet this flight of fancy fragile as a séance
vanished without a trace, although this trance
figurative shifted gears burnishing via sans deus sol invictus
   and didst witness glory, where ignominy, humility, and  disharmony
Mister McDonald (supposed namesake) from looming maestro, 
   whose countenance evinced 
   countless cartoonish, distorted expressive facial grotesqueries 
   earning apropos sobriquets
   who jabbed the air with each illusory add vance.

Musicals - Part Ii

We have some friends with a son named Todd,
whose avocation was to an actor be.
Little did I know that his avocation
would sometime soon involve me.

I loved to sing around the house
and (if I say so myself) could carry a tune.
One day my wife told me that she
didn't know how really well I could croon.

Their son had gotten a lead role in a show,
my wife bragged about my singing.
When she mentioned that chorus voices were needed,
I should have heard the alarm bells ringing.

Have you ever been in a Musical Show?
In front of an audience I would never stir,
Yet, here I was agreeing 
to join the chorus of "Oliver".

It was very hard work from the beginning,
rehearsals and stage blocking every night.
Then there were the costumes and make-up,
Now I know what it feels like to put on tights.

Oh, you should have seen me,
dancing and singing like never before.
Gallavanting with trepidation in every step,
learning to enjoy the audience's roar.

It was fun as I had never experienced,
being part of a cast to make others smile.
Wearing hose and funny clothes, pretending
that I was someone else for a little while.

I don't remember how many performances,
but I'll never forget that feeling at the end of the show.
When the audiences stood and applauded us,
as we bowed and then had to go.

There is no such feeling in the world,
than to be appreciated by others you see.
Performers, writers, comics, or poets
all give us something we need.

That is why they shower their applause on us,
when we perform to make their day.
I know, because I have experienced it
even in just my own little way.

It made me want to do it again,
to be an actor and not a stagehand hidden.
I'll tell you about my next performance,
in a show that I was so glad to have given.
© Dan Cwiak  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Effortlessly

So effortlessly do musicians play
  Concerts at night, rehearsals by day

Woodwinds, strings, brass or drums
  Why, when I try, do I come up all thumbs

Embrace the Lines

The flag glides upward in slow motion.
Days have the lucky teachers rehearsed
For this honorable day of the country.
We, children have sung until we go hoarse
No matter it was a sunny or a rainy day.
Rehearsals went on, missing classes and plays.

Yes, the great day is here today!
I proudly stand saluting the flag.
The official goes inspecting the parade.
Each child envies the other with whom is
Exchanged a polite little word and hand shaken.
I stand in my corner, not so lucky.
My eyes rest on the boxes of cakes and juice,
Neatly arranged by the Headmaster’s office 
And my interest wavers from the day’s event.

The speech begins; I feel a face familiar was his.
I rack hard my brain keeping a fixed smile.
Years back he was news headlines,
Charged for corruption and misuse of office,  
Then for sexual harassment on a minor, it was. 
Charges were soon scratched for lack of evidences 
And the mass had moved to some hotter issues.

A loud request breaks the monotonous speech,

I come out of my reverie “Children, give a big hand 
To our distinguished guest, he is doing a great job!”

The claps echoed loud in the air.

“He is offering two dozen books to our school library!”

The claps grew louder and I clapped hard as I can.

“Three cheers for the country…” 

“Hip Hip Hip Hurray!”  (3 times)

“Three cheers for the guest of honour…”

“Hip Hip Hip Hurray!”  (3 times)

Thrilled I nearly knock down my friend, 
Raising my little flag and shout as loud as I can.

I muse with hungry eyes

“I wish I can be as important as him!”


Date:9/07/16
Contest: Embrace the line (s)

Premium Member If You Pull a Long Face - Part Xviii

IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XVIII

IF you pull a long dopey face
The least one can in this case say
You don't belong to the eskimo race
Who lament the sun sunk in iced bay

Now if you pull that long limp face
Hoping someone will notice your dismay
Best not to peek through burka-nikah lace
Take the next flight out of tent on any airway

Yet if you keep pulling that long hangdog face
Ev'ry chance you'd be called upon to act in a play
For who knows how to imitate Droopy's face
Who has heard of a cartoon dog star on Broadway

If you pulled hard at that long hangdog face
Through wearisome rehearsals day after day
Fat chance you'll be nominated to play Scarface
No long-faced dogs allowed on stage in Broadway

So if you must pull that long hangdog face
Make certain the collar the leash does not betray
The long-buried wolf in the dog might surface
And actors feast on wolf sans ShutDown back pay

© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 9, 2019
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

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