Long Performer Poems
Long Performer Poems. Below are the most popular long Performer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Performer poems by poem length and keyword.
Did you hear about the time the Doc was on the clock?
Apparently an actor took a shot
At the President who was enjoying the theater in a special spot
Being popular knowing the right team had won
Waiting for revenge carrying a smoking gun
This stage performer
Made the country stop everything to be mourners
Got his way when the civil war leader was in the corner
Unlike the President who took it in the head
Theatrically this toy fled
Since he was not dead
A farmhouse destination he did run
Looking desperately for a fan to help him after what he had done
And the Doc let him in
To tend to his sin
With a scream and shout
His trained vocals let it out
Biting the bullet once again
Due to anger he could not defend
Today honest Abe sits in a marble cast
Reminding us of our checkered past
Next time when you are sitting in a diner’s booth
Feeling like you want to hit the roof
Remember hitting and running is the way of the game
While scoring a goal brings fame not shame
Playing fair
Makes people care
And they will come back to be there
Nice partners clapping the activity production they both share
A choreographed athletic entertaining love affair
I wasn’t asking for you to take control
I had no one in my corner
show support the asked of role
as I was the performer
My situation my experience
a plan I created to crack on
You doubted me in an instant
“Ohh I wouldn’t do that one”
I was asking for reassurance
see my plan and encourage
not tell me I’ve got no chance
when I am seeking courage
wasn’t asking to plan for me
just tell me to keep going
assume i plan hopelessly
how your doubt was showing
What is worse your lack of knowledge
just assumed I must be wrong
their friction had worn my confidence
when you opposed, my will, was gone
You didn’t back me up
because you didn’t believe in me
couldn’t watch and give feed back
I didn’t want you to lead, just believe in me
Disgruntled by my request for support
you assumed I wanted you to take control
was desperate for moral support
now I didn’t want you at all
So weak just go along with me
but for all too much to do
look at what you did to me
now unsure because of you.
Stand by me and see what I see,
talk to me, save my sanity.
Just need a voice outside my head,
thoughts of someone else said.
Years later I am angry still
said help and you killed my will
"Limerick - Syllables 12,12,8,8,12" ~By Poet~
Stevie Wonder.
Blinded after birth by a hospital blunder.
At three he played music with pots and pans.
Self taught piano, at nine he played to young fans.
Stevie Wonder decided to bet Tiger Woods
To play golf at a golf club in their neighborhoods
Tiger, he chose where they would play.
Stevie would choose the time of day.
Stevie chose midnight. He won and went home with the goods.
At 13 he was the youngest solo artist ever to top the charts.
Being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, warmed hearts.
He won a Grammy for "That's What Friends Are For"
Stevie Wonder, an incredible performer has fans galore.
I have now become as tired
As my work has grown old
Nothing no longer anymore now seems
Fresh or in anyway or part new
It almost writes it for itself
Without even the need of my own help
So if I am getting to the point
Of being bored beyond belief
I can only imagine what other people
Must actually think as well
It's all the same subject matter
Same old words endlessly repeated as well
It's like trying to make and back up
A second album after the first
Finding everything you write
Sounds exactly like something
You have written already
And worst of all
No better
Merely just a carbon copy
Which anyone definitely can tell
And you yourself can't possibly sell
Let alone to yourself
Tired simply out and devoid of ideas
Only second time out of asking
Stale burnt out already
Having to pretend and make believe
You are a gifted artist and performer
Praying and hoping they won't know
Until and the magic returns and so inspires
Your muse again
Otherwise if it unfortunately doesn't
You are forever destined to be
A one hit wonder
Who will barely be remembered
Until you hopefully come back in fashion
On the revival circuit
John Denver Poetry Contest
Anthony Biaanco
Gathered around a campfire
Folks sing, clap, and dance
Take me home on country roads
Rocky Mountain high
High above an eagle circles
A passing deer pauses
Other critters awaken
To listen to John Denver
... sing
... of nature and relationships
Where his songs light the fire
And where his heart lights the night
With wholesomeness
... and sentiment and nostalgia
As the night warms on
And more logs are added to the fire
The intimacy grows
A pipe is passed around
Along with a bottle of whisky
As women and men gather closer
To the man, John Denver
Seated in front of the camping fire
... and holding fort to his songs
... with a guitar in his arms
the sunshine on his shoulders
Bespeckled with his blond shaggy hair
Denver fills the air
... leaving on a jet plane
... timeless, down to earth and fun
For this night he played to the crowd
... the Rocky's came alive
His good side, he's the life of the party
Where the exterior of the man is admiring
Denver graced the cover of 40 Albums
Covering four decades
His superlatives include
One of the world’s best-known and admired performers
Songwriter, performer, actor, environmentalist and humanitarian
He also loved poetry (poet laureate), dabbled in aviation and Nasa
However, it would be pretentious to exclude his bad side
... and this is where the passing deer from above sheds a tear
... and perhaps many of his fans
Because behind all that charm is a curse
Denver, according to many accounts on the net, was bad
He was a bad human
A bad drunk, chronic smoker, wife beater, and a bit whacko
Denver died in 1997 in a plane crash, in a plane that he built
Today the Rocky's are full of nature and life
With tall mountain ridges, forests, lakes, and rivers
And well-traveled trails, like the man
Somewhere a motorist is pantomiming one of his songs
... and smiling
I used to live at home.
We were a close group.
My mum took care of me.
When i was ill, she made me soup.
It started to get harder.
There was always a shadow.
Everything seemed dull.
Though this didn't always show.
I left to get my own life.
I struggled by my self.
They seemed to forget about me.
Like i was just a photo on the shelf.
I've figured it out now.
They saw me as a burden.
I was left on my own,
i was left broken.
Now 6 months no contact,
it wasn't done by choice.
But when we used to speak,
i felt like i had no voice.
It's hard when it wasn't my choice,
i should've done it sooner,
Because i'm better off now,
i'm no longer a performer.
I finally found myself,
i finally found love,
i found my voice,
i just needed a little shove.
Alexis Culley
p.s. please give your feedback
Mae West's Room
Every hierarchy exists
dependent upon those below to support it.
Can it be any different with the gods
when some are greater and some are lesser?
We are all gods, and isn’t that the point
in George Orwell’s book, “Animal Farm,”
when he compares human beings to pigs
and we can’t tell the difference between them?
“Some pigs are better than the rest.”
Or, in other words, let me refer you to
Joseph Heller’s exposé, “Catch-22,” paraphrased:
“When you know both sides of the coin,
win, lose, or draw, Mae West said it best,
‘Why don’t you come up sometime and see me?’”
***
Notes:
Mary Jane West, aka Mae West (1893–1980), was a vaudeville performer, playwright, singer, Hollywood film actress, and screenwriter during the Gay Nineties and beyond. She was considered a sex symbol during this era and was very controversial.
One of her best-known quotes comes from her play “Diamond Lil,” written in 1928, which was adapted for the Hollywood film “She Done Him Wrong” in 1933: “Why don’t you come up sometime and see me?”
The quote inspired Arthur Swanstrom and Louis Alter to write the 1933 song “Come Up and See Me Sometime!” which was first recorded by Elsie Carlisle. The song went on to become Mae West’s signature song.
Save me – I used to have suicidal ideations in my mind…watch over me, Lord of
Accord…I can’t find the light in goodbye, so let me say before I go – I love you
so, friend of mine – let me unwind for a little while and give me some space if
you can be so kind
Ohhh…see right through my pain – regret & shame slits me like a knife, shaking
in the hands of a cutter – I’m trying to look on the brighter side of life, but I
am blind and I am feeling left behind…ooh I’m trying to leave behind the past if
you don’t mind
Shame embraced me, never leaving my presence – I’ve been driven insane by
Depression and Anxiety…I’ve lived through so much stress and distress, yet
I’m still surviving & I’m still thriving to be positive and to have a happier frame
of mind (someday, I won’t be blind)
So, today is a sun-shining day…and the morning dew of dismay has faded
away
Under the universe, I see happy-go-lucky birds fly gaily…passing away like the
day transforming into night…the illuminated night awakens my mind’s eye and
my mind’s remarkable inspiration
Roam around the City of Serenity and let us both seek the sun, so we can
grow together once more
Vibrant sun shines upon us like a spotlight on the performer
I feel that my alienated ambition has taken its toll on me…I’m no longer a
forlorner
Margaret didn't consider herself beautiful,
on the contrary, others thought she was;
she could have been a performer, a model...
an actress, but none of these was her call.
Margaret had a flair for languages, and she
spoke them fluently like a native, not as a foreign;
whenever she went they adored her as their own...
her excellent linguistic skills took her as far as Italy.
Margaret was the all American girl: smart, generous, polite and friendly,
but from her accent people could tell she was from the U.S.A,
and while chatting with natives and sipping on a large cappuccino,
she was approached by a RAI TV manager at the famous coffee shop " Tazza D'oro."
" Scusami, Signorina Walter...are you interested in doing a documentory
on World Famine?" The gentleman with a thick Italian accent asked her kindly,
" Because of your excellent languistic ability, you have been chosen among
potential contestants to be our host in this important film called, " A Sweet Song. "
" Of course, you will be paid for your partecipation in this historical documentary! "
He added with much enthisiasm in his young voice. " Being paid for it...really? "
" No, I'll render my services for free, Signor Agnetti if it is for an humanitarian cause! "
Margared said with a joyful expression on her smooth and freckled face.
* Scusami, Signorina...
Italian transalation: Excuse me, young lady
I am not just tempted, I am trapped.
This is no longer a moment;
it is a pattern.
I hate it, yet I return to it.
I ask forgiveness
while secretly knowing
I may fall again.
Break me if You must,
because I cannot fix myself.
Crush what keeps rising in me.
Destroy the desire that keeps ruling me.
I am tired of managing sin,
I want it dead.
I fear for my calling.
I fear for the work You placed in my hands.
I fear becoming another warning story
instead of a faithful servant.
I fear standing before You
having wasted what You gave me.
Have mercy on me, O God,
not because I am worthy,
but because You are good.
Wash me
not on the surface,
but deep within,
where the desire begins.
Create in me a clean heart,
because this one keeps betraying me.
Renew my spirit,
for it is tired and divided.
Teach me to fear You again,
not just speak about You.
Do not let death rejoice over me.
Do not let hell claim victory through my weakness.
I know the judgment I deserve,
yet I beg You,
do not give me that cup.
Save me from myself.
Save me from the sin I keep choosing.
Save me while I still breathe,
while repentance is still possible.
Then, only then
will I speak again of Your goodness,
not as a performer,
but as a man You rescued.
O God, hear me.
If You do not help me, I will fall completely.
If You do not hold me, I will not stand.
For I still desire to finish my days saying,
“I fought the good fight,”
not in words only,
but in truth.
Have mercy.
Please, have mercy,
oh my Father and Lord.