Marceau Poems - Poems about Marceau

...Matthew delivers his latest bullet – tin... from the Harris-Walz front where liberal minded socially progressive electorate doth agonizingly grunt targeted in crosshairs scoped out eager and ......

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...I relished being hungry for leftover Thanksgiving pop slop gloppy grub (a poetic partial fiction blended, diced, fricaseed, marinated, mixed, pureed, sautéed, stewed... with fact) Hmm... ......

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...Do you remember Helen Keller? She was a really awesome speller Who couldn't hear nor see nor speak, So to communicate She would ges-tic-u-late. Marcel Marceau spoke perfect French, But he was......

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...I relished being hungry for Thanksgiving pop slop gloppy grub whereby the missus didst potchke created whirling dervish hubbub after enjoying repast, (fit for a tarnished king), yours truly a......

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...Rather than contact tech savvy Macbook Pro technician Computer technology a dog send boot also a source of woe, cuz prohibitive costs charged by technicians to troubleshoot Macbook Pro just re......

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...Hmm... on second thought lemme join anorexic club until rib cage protrudes taut and visible doubling as drum to drub synchronized within heart of darkness, especially when electrocardiogram exhi......

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...I relish being hungry for popslop grub... (on second thought lemme join anorexic club until rib cage protruding taut and visible doubling as drum to drub synchronized with heart that goes lub d......

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...Marceau leans on air. His ethereal stage, a muse. Walls and limits come and go. Rubber, his body knowing what it wants. His muscle’s tale born in luster under polished light. Each spectat......

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...The words you use have a serraded edge they cause the deepest damage they also take the longest time to heal speak with kindness in your heart As words can wound , meant or not whether said ......

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...Remembrance of « Creation » 1963 (MM) (Marcel Marceau 1963) Face white-clown-painted hands crossing invisibility in a white-gloved glissade a soft, silent shifting, a step-slide over no......

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...It was September Of one thousand Nine hundred seven The end of summer With apples lying thickly Under the apple trees And the smell of Autumn Covering the grass Filled with ripe yellow And......

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...The crime is snowed over, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Il neige sur le crime Are we buried under snow holding our silence in what immense Cimmerian (collision) of terror ? The mouth kept......

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...COMATOSE Some call it verse without the rhyme Marcel Marceau without the mime The wasted words get joined in prose and leave me mostly comatose..... Yes busted prose is comatose like c......

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...In an art of expression- king of pantomime. Tribute to Marcel Marceau......

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