Mime Poems - Poems about Mime

Writing this poem was an uphill climb I wanted it to be rather sublime Did not expect to make a slim dime Took a second to cut up my lime It was tasty, straight from the brime What do you have? Asked a friendly mime Nothing much I lied, just a little slime Time to rhyme said the mime; time to rhyme...

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In a room stitched with silence, she stands—face painted, lips sealed— mirroring worlds with invisible walls, a language of gestures no one translates. Here, speech is a fragile rebellion. Her fingers sculpt stories midair, but the crowd wants laughter without edges, pantomime without questions. She remembers classrooms— words trapped in chalk dust, voices pressing her into corners too tight for dreams to unfold. But tonight, her throat...

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A clown with a frown was talking to a king with a crown, when a mime happened by, and mimed to them, “What’s the quickest way out of town?” The king said to the mime “To catch a train, be on time.” And the clown laughed at the king, and it began to rain The mime grabbed...

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He wanted to be around clowns but never wanted to be happy He wanted to write great melodies never wanting to sing He wanted to stand on the mountaintop but never wanted to fly He wanted to read every book never wanting to speak He walked in the twilight of tragedy’s sunset He loved several women only after they were gone He called to his dog who was stuffed in the parlor He answered every question that couldn’t — be asked (Dreamsleep: August,...

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I knew a mime who was ever silent One of the many who were licensed Hit his toe doing his act Felt so much pain that he quacked The city took away his mime license Yes! knew this mime who was ever silent He boarded...

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Time there’s I can’t sleep, Or not want to at odd times, If I dwell nigh deep, I’d find that it all well rhymes, The duo in pantomimes! Pain lets me not sleep, In pleasure I wish not to In hope more to reap, From me is taken a clue If it shows red or green hue. Take a friend or foe,...

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Let me my audience a bit corrupt, My peaceful society dare disrupt, Protests by The Righteous erupt From fears one might The Taught adopt! If the itch is to bring off crime, Then feel this other itch of Time; I tell you vital 'timing crime' You become slippery like slime And doubly able to peaks climb, Never at the mercy of clime... Rogues who time...

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silence befalls the play in winter's hall birds stalled, stage-struck, do not call trees with naked branches mime their lines with no clothes their nakedness much maligns dawn's curtain call has lights subdued the scene is shrouded in dark hues, grey imbued all is dank, cold and clammy with frowning faces on the play's cast, struck dumb in their places. the birds and...

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A mime is supersensitive He hears things others miss He observes subtle nuances I watched this one He seemed to be on our wavelength He communicated with us better than speakers often do I watched him turn his face slightly Whatever he seemed to be hearing was apparently a clue We were happy to meet him and thanked him. He had a genuine smile. I...

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Mimetic mimicry mimicked the mime. More than furlong, the entire belonging day long. Prophet, the proper property, pope prophecy. Hardhearted harshness tied a fair harness. Shepherd herding sheep, harder in a herder way....

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The moon and the stars bide their time Mute mimics in Mother Nature's mime The sun shines brighter as they watch Hoping their light will go up a notch The woods look inviting, shaded and green Birds twitter happily behind the scene Animals prowl about in a hunter's game Near the roaring river in a picturesque frame...

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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 spectator becomes a believer, each observer willingly accepts, how hands make intangible dimensions, how legs scale vaporous stairways. You should never ask what they saw. This myth maker made by his allegory. This illusion maker made...

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Excited children, heavily in attendance at the circus watch ...

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i'm not a parrot but don't forget to feed me each time i repeat one line not like the actions of Jackson's taken away at the funeral bird so i've heard i often find myself saying over and once again over the phrase that holds me even controls me to write these words as weird as that may sound but i of sound body and mind not needing winding not even in any speak find i'm repeating what i...

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Wasn't I a kid just a minute ago? Wasn't there a love for me? How have I become this miserable? What have I not done to be? How could time not hold me in? Where would I be now? When was all this left to me? Where could I have wow? Sadness taking me for worth Love in all the past Where could it be...

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