Long Actor Poems
Long Actor Poems. Below are the most popular long Actor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Actor poems by poem length and keyword.
John Challis became a famous British actor and that's what he deserved.
He starred as Captain Peacock in the reboot of "Are You Being Served?"
It's sad to have to tell people that John has passed away.
He guest-starred in "Open All Hours" and "Play For Today".
He starred as an evil man named Scorby in an episode of "Doctor Who:".
The title of that episode that John starred in is "The Seeds of Doom".
He guest-starred in an episode of "Heartbeat".
He starred in "Only Fools and Horses" and "Coronation Street".
He also starred in an episode of "Last of The Summer Wine".
Sadly, John died on September 19, 2021 at the age of 79.
[Dedicated to John Challis (1942-2021) who died on September 19, 2021]
My life as a grade school teacher
Is like a life-long student and schooler
Always working with colors, pens and papers
While taking care of kids as their second mother.
Still, I oftentimes sleep quite late at night
Check exams, plan learner’s lessons that delight
In the morning, I need to wake up early
To be at school before our flag ceremony.
As I impart my knowledge and skills
I learn a lot of things, head down to my heels
I learn to be more patient and understanding
More hardworking, very kind and loving.
I learn by experience, seminars and discovery
Embracing new teaching techniques and technology
Continue enhancing all my talents and creativity
In many areas, to teach my learners efficiently.
I’ve got so many other exciting multiple roles
Classroom maintenance, nurse, guidance counsellor
Dancer, singer, artist, director, actress or actor
A lot more, to mold and shape learner’s life and future.
I also play with my learners like a big kid
To promote relationship, inculcate values, I also read
Despite our emotional farewell on every graduation
They’ll always come, visit me in my school-roles repetition.
I believe, teacher has a schooler’s life that'll last
Only after a long journey loaded in a carabao's drawn cart
Grand graduation will come with unimaginable fulfillment
And achievement felt in the heart only on age of retirement.
I could watch you all day
Listen to your velvety voice
as I dream the hours away
I wonder, is that OK?
A waste of time
some might say
Granted...that may be true,
but what's more beautiful than you
They don't know the sublime
Needs adoration's attention
Unadulterated affection
The crave of connection
You're my fantasy incarnation
Infatuation's insanity
Delirium's dream
Passion's pledge
I can watch you all day
and into the stretches of the night
till the flooding of dawn's light
You're my delight,
my escape
from pain to pleasure
A dose without measure
of bliss
Imagining that kiss
Is sweet enough
Escapism's ecstasy
takes me
above and beyond
my mundane reality
I could watch you all day,
What's the harm?
Your brand of charm
makes me sway,
and there's simply no way
I'll give you up.
You'll never know
when loneliness lingers
and sorrow stifles
Your smile scintillates...
it invigorates
Motivates
to move on
from dreary night
to dauntless dawn
Thanks for the rush, Ji Chang Wook,
my celebrity crush.
Eileen Manassian
Dedicated to Ji Chang Wook, my favourite South Korean actor. He's phenomenal... and celebrity crush! ;)
On a cold, chilly October autumn street,
One can watch bright coloured twirling leafs,
and the prompt urban wanders who walk on them,
you’d yearn to engage with these throngs at least,
how they might unravel a facade or two in sequence,
quite often on many occasions I imagine their stories,
If I only had the gumption to speak to them,
whirl pool rain and storms indeed might be a hindrance,
wind allied to drizzle an incentive to cafe caper refuge,
a general overall dampness, wet, drizzle, grey skies,
Predictable intrusion of the normal outlet that rambling obviously is,
instant topic to dwell on covering a wide range therein,
seasons have such insole penchant for moulding outlook,
symbolism is mine to grasp and expand on foot,
pavement as a slippy shivery theatrical perilous stage,
It can be perceived as home to the shrewd adaptable speaker,
actor, actress, character, playwright,
audience,
will the earnest crisp daylight morning fall fodder dominate?
as I boldly essay an impromptu unrehearsed passage in situ,
yet silent thoughtful conversation has already composed the script
Looking at the mirror
with good day’s pleasure
I see slothfulness’ glamor
taunting with delight’s leisure
Yet ready to attack sense of honor
defying time-worth’s treasure
So defiant; not a generous donor
offering gift that costs much pressure!
I challenge you, my body’s indolent suitor
upon your procrastination’s grandeur
I’m aware of your wastefulness’ color
since programmed schedule you want to injure
I fight you for putting me in meaninglessness’ rigor
against unjustified torture
Dampening my work-ardor
by your entertainment-indulgence culture!
Face now my spiritual fervor
straightening your laziness-posture
I vanquish your terror
that’s underestimating my devotion-measure
See how I combat fruitlessness’ horror
striving for a productive future
While trusting God with His grace-anchor,
I press on by His might so sure!
Don’t shake me with doubts’ tremor;
I confront you upon truth’s nurture
You'll be overtaken by my Conqueror
… just prepare for a painful capture
Never dare me; you’re a deceitful actor
trapped inside reality’s exposure
I’m driven by the Victor
Who has mastered very well human nature!
Along my stewardship’s armor,
I smite you with discipline-censure
Having the Lord’s good favor...
I dominate over your lethargic displeasure
Upheld by His strong succor,
I subdue your destructive gesture
Trained by my champion Mentor...
I arise toward faith-performance venture!
Thus, by diligence-motor, ...
you, spirit of the sluggard, I adjure
Yield to the task-commander’s tenor
…follow work-ethics’ procedure
Escape from vanity’s galore
…be prodded to toil and endure
Girded by hardships’ candor
…stand up with zealousness-feature!
Opponent of losing savor,
Surrender your worthless seizure for healthy cure
Accept that you’re beaten by genuine labor
midst your impatience-tenure
I thank my Savior for righteous valor
making me win on persistence juncture
Guided constantly by the Director,
I persist in His triumphant service-business* pasture!
Personification with rhyme form
*Romans 12:11 Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord.
April 7, 2019
Edited on May 13, 2020
5th place, "Shutter Speed" Premier Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann; judged on 5/18/2020.
You starred in "The Visitation" which was an episode of Doctor Who.
Your life ended thirty years ago today on December the 11th of 1992.
You died two weeks before Christmas Day.
You were sixty-two when you passed away.
You were a very talented British actor but your death ended your career.
Time sure does fly, it doesn't seem like you've been dead for thirty years.
You starred in every season of "On The Buses" except for the final season.
I don't know why you decided to quit but you must have had a good reason.
You guest-starred in "One Foot In The Grave" and "Turn Out The Lights".
You also guest-starred in "The Count Of Monte Cristo" and "First Night".
You chose not to be buried, you were cremated.
When you died, all of your fans were devastated.
You died thirty years ago today and your wife died on December the 7th of 2011.
You entertained people for many years and then you went to Heaven.
[Dedicated to Michael Robbins (1930-1992) who died on December 11, 1992]
Someone Else Would Have Been Better
Maybe someone else would have known how to live this life better than me,
would have spoken up when I chose silence like a shelter made of fog,
would have loved without hiding pieces of their soul beneath cold stone,
and would never have let love slip right through their fingers like water.
My mind is an endless simulation running on a script written by my heart,
and I keep wondering if I am the wrong actor on the stage of my own life,
maybe someone else would have turned every hesitation into a clear decision,
every silence of mine would have become an answer in their hands.
They would have walked through the doors I stood outside of, calculating,
would have claimed the spaces where I only slipped through like a shadow,
my life in their hands would have looked cleaner, sharper, more defined,
fewer people left behind carrying the weight of my unanswered questions.
Where I stood frozen inside my own questions, they would have lived,
where I hesitated and weighed things out, they would have written with action,
my broken thoughts they would have stitched into something whole and worthy,
and they would have never once known what it means to carry a life in your mind.
But they would have never felt this deep confusion that runs like a root through me,
would have never searched for the meaning of the world even when it hurts to look,
maybe they would have lived it better but they would have never truly been inside it,
I am still here — guilty, compared, worn down — but alive and entirely my own.
It’s early
Not a sound from the street
Newspaper lies in the driveway
Where it landed
Some time ago.
When I get up
The sun is also up
Brightness
Clarity
Not a cloud in the sky
So why should I read the newspaper
On this beautiful morning
To read about politicians
Taking bribes
Projects stalled by demonstrators
Economy still in the toilet
An actor arrested for God knows what.
They say
Not reading leaves one uninformed
But reading leaves me misinformed
Avoiding the need to choose
Between the devil and the deep blue sea
I choose to read the comics
Yes, those cartoon characters
Amusing
Unbelievably funny
Occasionally making a point
On things we ignore.
I take the comics seriously
As I sip from a coffee cup
Carefully placed nearby
Casually savoring each drop
As I contemplate the day
And the morning leisurely wears on.
WAKE ME UP
I see dreams aplenty with the eyes open
In the bustle of life these aren’t broken
I’m not an actor of deception as many are
Wake me up, I’m sunk in deep slumber.
I see dreams float under the mid-day sun
Don’t know when at night the stars return
I’m not a player of the dark as many are
Wake me up, I’m sunk in deep slumber.
I see in dreams changing shades of grey
On faces of shadow people coming my way
I don’t see the colors of clown they wear
Wake me up, I’m sunk in deep slumber.
I see in dream the dreams people make
How on blind greed they crash and break
I want to see no heart of hope breaks ever
Wake me up, I am sunk deep in slumber.
January 21, 2018.
O search not for a rare applause,
Beware, life is a thankless stage—
It's vain, a loud uproar to cause
On this voyage of pilgrimage,
A puppet you are, caught in cage.
Vain to think you’re a great actor,
You know the plot, nor script nor end,
Watch out, Fate’s a poor director,
As clown, no great role shall ye land,
As puppet, pulled by unknown hand.
________________________________
Musings | 05.09.2015| Quintain
Poet’s note: We might think we are great actors, while in truth we are no more than clowns in the eyes of a spoilsport called Fate, Fortune, or Destiny. Man is then no more than a clown who hopes to hear applause on life’s stage that proves a vague hope, a mirage. For, life offers no programme; the director of the stage-play gives no script; the destiny provides no prompt. And still, he must perform in hope for an applause that seldom materializes.