Best Stage Poems
Upon autumn's stage where vermillion vistas and cobalt-blue sky meet
Picturesque hues enchant, oscillating in breeze, as scarlet landscapes greet.
Falling leaves trickle down on golden yellow fabric in shades of amber fire
As barren trees fight gusty winds to hold on to remnants of brown attire.
Chilled air empowers imperial red tinges to adorn vestiges of fading green
Transforming lakes and ponds into heavens of romantic crimson scene.
Harvests of freshly cut grains cheerfully celebrate season's festive meals,
Sipping cinnamon tea and sampling pumpkin pies, welcome autumn feels.
Revelers rejoice glimpses of winter under moonlit-glow of freezing nights
As naked forests sway in tandem, yearning for the rebirth of vibrant sights.
October 4, 2018
Placed 3rd: Seasonal verse poetry contest by Brian Strand
Placed 4th in Vermillion autumn couplets contest by Vermillion Scythe
She came to me in the noon day sun..
her world wistful, longing for an unsung quiet.
But I would not remain still, nor silent,
though her hours in life, never meant for long.
Desperately I grasped her up in loving embrace..
And in her arms cried, please let her remain!
I offered myself in sacrifice to assuage,
but enchanted sirens called sweetly, come.,
and left me alone on an empty stage.
We are all strippers on a stage
choreographed of broken dreams.
Our materialistic schemes
drown values in whiskey bottles.
We are all strippers on a stage
who put down our pillow case veils,
dawned a garter belt, sold our souls
for the price of our panty hose.
We are all strippers on a stage
who can not keep with this life style:
with nights too long and days too short,
where a candle burns on both ends
a center burns out; we sell out.
We are all strippers on a stage:
vibrate and shimmer for dollars,
feed this addictive scenery.
(modified quatern)
Silver shines back one picture of a goddess reflection
centre stage before the eyes enters soul to soul realm
standing purely hot blue flames ignite every gasp
breathing on a bed of roses sleeps beauty
The breath stops breathless apex splendour
within you precious jewels striking darkly haunting
princess happily kissing over and over sugar coated
heartbeats back skips with angel kisses
Warmly upon the throne sitting queen
dancing with shadows crowning moonbeams
cradle of love is where I capture your space
reserved only in my dreams of you
Temple of light I blow the softest kiss gently on wings
to embrace the altar of a soul's other half destiny sings
captured in space the greatest mystery of life
invades when you sit upon these knees
Purely joy angelic smiles looking into your eyes sparkles of starlight
on a blazing trail of magic dust always there I find thee
missing piece of the puzzle fits holding hands surely heaven here
in this world I have found in you this heart's treasure, be my Queen
As your heartbeats a pulse quickens through your fingertips
this heart is yours for keeps to go on forever
sure as the sunshine kisses morning dew
Your love inspires the one in a thousand dreams come true
unrhymed quatrains
I sat in awe and watched them
make the stage a world,
where everything,
everything
could happen.
The music took me away from
where I was sitting.
Drifting me on invisible lines.
And I dreamt.
I dreamt.
Their hair in braids,
their colourful clothes,
their graciousness.
A jump a deer, or swan.
Arms a house to live in.
Embracing all the world from
love to death and beyond.
And I danced, I danced,
my music danced in my head,
my words, sung on paper,
were spoken on stage.
Lived a life other than ink
or syllables.
I lived there.
I bowed for my imaginary public.
My mind a stage,
all dancers,
all words,
all the music.
This dream kept me alive.
This dream makes me a poet
who sees colours and music
in words, and enjoys
just that.
***
October 31, 2016
Slaying all bible verse
He danced his words to heights
He was
The one
He never grew
The child always fresh
He had no lovers
Only fans
Death came inside a tear
Loneliness incubated fears
Dancing on the moon
Alone
The dervish whirls—
deserts fable
over candles,
atop mantle fires,
wings for life.
Salient, a moth
labors over no lands,
exists in The Great,
extends her wings
to The Wide,
middle-age night
to flutter near the floor,
flit in the rafters—
a lamp,
her vessel for ballet
on night’s broken stage.
© 2017 | June 13 | Wesley T Cutlip
Edited June 30
REVISED - July 7
Lying still on the class room floor,
brown paper for a bottom sheet.
All the children were gathered round
and my outline was complete.
A cookie cutter girl was I
in bright black paten leather shoes;
with a gathered skirt, puffy blouse
of blue polka dotty hues.
Drawn silhouette, a paper doll,
not ashen as deaths cold harrow,
and I regret, my parents get
left Hiroshima's shadows.
Eight years gone the Rising Sun
was challenged in an earthy sky;
for bombs Little Boy and Fat Man fell
and two-hundred thousand people died
The Man of Steel, old Stalin
passed away in Russia this year;
the hot cold war was in full bloom
and our children hid in fear.
Beneath our desk tops we scrambled
as the shrill sirens shrieked away
the Committee of Five ruled Russia
and Khrushchev was on his way.
Dwight Ike was in the White House
as a veteran, he'd fought hard
the GI bill was now in affect
and bomb shelters filled our yards.
And little girls with ringlet curls
still made dollies on paper sheets;
while the doll shadows left by WWII
bombs blackened in Japan's streets.
*On August 6, 1945, the United States used a massive, atomic weapon against Hiroshima, Japan. This atomic bomb, the equivalent of 20,000 tons of TNT, flattened the city, killing tens of thousands of civilians. While Japan was still trying to comprehend this devastation three days later, the United States struck again, this time, on Nagasaki. Nagasaki was bombed on August 9, 1945 only three days after the bombing of Hiroshima. And we worry that other countries may develope atomic bombs???
The stage of life is crowded,
With a dark and sullen cast.
And though it seems those fading dreams,
Are just figments of the past.
Your manner is straight forward,
You're neither actor or a clown.
You fight the fight with all your might,
But still they put you down.
With clenched teeth and furrowed brow,
You walk bravely straight ahead.
Through stifled air, you won't despair,
Over all the roads you've bled.
You're standing firm and resolute,
Cause your spirit is intact.
Will time abate or will you wait,
To play out the final act.
It's hard to pick your poison,
When the dramas always change.
It's never clear, the more you fear,
Your dreams are out of range.
When at last the curtain falls,
On your temperance or your rage.
With peace of mind, in time you'll find,
That all the world's a stage.
- a bent and rusty nail can straightened -
but will never be the strongest
What we are,
Who we are,
Why this Unveiled Truth?
We borrow the body's skin.
Loving and admiring,
All the hearts around us.
Instead of taking
And shaping it
Into our own.
Let them be happy.
Let them love you
From their distance.
Know the emanating
Glow will reach you
When you yourself
Are ready to begin
The Appreciation Stage.
People may frighten us by making shouts.
Often, they threaten us throwing big bouts.
Remain composed.
Don't get exposed.
Patience and silence are the best knockouts!
A deaf ass meets a dumb tiger, one day.
The tiger pretends growling at his prey.
It believes that the ass hears.
The ass fakes as if it fears.
All the world's a stage! Anyone can play.
Premier contest: 10th place
There once was a canary full of rage.
Who shrewdly trapped a sly cat in her cage.
Without a feather ruffled
and Kittie's meows muffled,
she now ruled the roost, as queen of her stage!
some bright sequins of fun shined amidst dull threads of routines... art time none
The vibrant popinjay has gone.' The harlequin no more really
Spins in song.' The magic's now all in a can.' Younger female backers
Parry times looming advance plan..' The age'd icon takes his glances
Across the acres, of yearning souls in hopefull trances..Parody banners they lie.' beneath sultry skies.' Echo the effigy of the past, See it burned in the mans eyes.'
Actions Describe.' Writ large the irony of life.' Youth has
Flown.' All hail its ghost, Ronnie strums, the speakers hum.'
Geri-acrity...Fumbles combinations and with alacrity..' 0yet theres really not one chance.' No way back.' All I see is false hope.' Rod Stewart is a husk.' Not yet voiceless.' Nor danceless yet
Its the back end, of the romance.!