I am guilty for the nation
I’ve no business to the world
In a play of no sensation
I’m a prompter of one word
Who would share a consolation
For the character of mine
I’m a proof of antination
Well disjointed from the time
Mental tenant of the era
Of the sixties – seventies
I’m that boy who smashed the mirror
It was fun to see it splits
Fatherland and motherland
I just can't relate to both
I belong to Nowhere land
That’s my real place of birth
That’s my peace, my joy and sorrow
Nowhere home, and garden I
Used to know, meet no tomorrow
Only yesterdays comply
Nowhere woman, nowhere man
Doing all the best we could
Stayed together till the end
Till it has become too good
I’m no more applied to this
My Arcadia I’ve seen
I’m a question you would diss
There’s no answer in the wind
I’m a petal of her rose
Orphan of the dying breed
I have loved, and loved I was
What I know I doubt you need
Categories:
prompter, loss, love, memory, peace,
Form: Rhyme
Somebody who had seen Miss Ann
Advised her to just drop her Dan,
Mentioning my own serious plan
To take her to my secure clan
And keep her in a lodge with fan...
And Miss Ann burst into laughter
But did not say a word after,
Yet, did not close the chapter:
A convulsing body apter...
Then, in a voice four times softer
Like takers of Lozenge Cofta
"Does he own a helicopter,
For, then, 'My Yes' will be prompter?"
That was Ann and who she would choose,
So, lover Dan and I should lose!
Categories:
prompter, care, crush, love, lust,
Form: Rhyme
a veil descended upon his restless soul
converted into apathy and grave sadness
no need to take off the mask of shadows
there was no living persona left to reveal
he dreamt of Venetian Carnival nights
but the only seduction was an illusion
of free flowing movement in stagnation
Henry was well versed in nagging despair
he had been living a pantomime in disguise
a rebel with course that led to destruction
now in the naked light of nothing to show for
his drama was an epitaph without real prologue
curtains drawn and only mocking applause
script empty and the protagonist sidelined
a prompter whispering mindless nothingness
an epic disaster personified with no hope
he tore his bleeding heart out of pulsation
ready to sever his wrists in an almighty gush
yet only red make up trickled upon his face
and rescued a lonely narration never to be
17th July 2020
Categories:
prompter, absence,
Form: Free verse
For this contest I’m asked to abide by the rules
and thus I sit and pen my thoughts obediently
but cannot check the renegade’s sweet rebellion
Limit cussing and cursing:
however I am told that people who swear are profound not profane
No erotic poetry:
but once Eros is tamed Thanatos prevails says a slippery Freudian
New poem:
yet life is a cycle and true stories have no beginning
Date name and sponsor:
A fig leaf instead to hide sensual muse
Cursory token when flipping salvation
Blame the prompter for devious words
Is imprecation blasphemous?
Is romance risqué is erogenous lewd?
Concession for praise where it belongs!
Conclusions:
I vow to wash my mouth with lubricant . . .
Copulation extrapolates couplets and rhymes . . .
I’m grateful for rulers because they help with the lines . . .
30th May 2019
Contest: What makes you flinch
Sponsor Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Categories:
prompter, perspective,
Form: Free verse
Turn on news, want to hear what's real
don't care about politics or how you feel.
Tell me what, where, when, anything that's new
not important what you think or your view.
Reading a prompter emotionally, pretending you care
thinking you're special, got the job because of your hair.
News is reporting facts, not a calculated political spin
let citizens know the truth, instead of paid opinion.
Traded your soul for money, report anything they say
don't believe you really know, what happened today.
Report facts, let the citizens decide what's wrong
knowledge by the people makes this country strong.
Power, greed and corruption controls every news event
is it not news, reporting where our freedom went?
Categories:
prompter, america, corruption, patriotic, political,
Form: Rhyme
The poet had said :
The world is a stage.
The stage
First Scene
Flood of spotlights
The actor in centre-stage, walks straight
The eyes looking up to the sky
The hands intimately hold, and held
The footsteps close, walk alongside
The figures liked, stay on
Others float around unwanted
The breath strong
The presence demanding
Cares for none.
Middle Scene
The actor runs around
A clock in hand
Pushes people on the ground
The stage is small.
Hits the wall, waits
The prompter says,
Say the line : 'time is short'.
The actor throws the clock
Doesn't care.
Last Scene
The spotlights dim
The actor bent, alone in the back of stage
A stick in hand
The eyes fixed on the ground
The hands don't hold, and hang unheld
The footsteps walk out of sight
The figures fade out.
The breath weak
The presence desolate
Searches for care.
The curtain drops
I enter the stage
The actor on the knees
Rises, and becomes my shadow.
July 14, 2017
Contest : All Yours (Jan 22)
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Categories:
prompter, care, feelings, heartbreak, old,
Form: Free verse
Act 1
Lights dim, a pregnant pause for silence to bedim.
A nod, then curtain rises, lights and eyes pries
Scene 1 to open with actors all set in pose enfrozen.
Called to action by director's wink, blink, nod of head.
Act 2
The play pans out as script reels unwind
Cued and checked by prompter nodding in the wings
Lest lines in memory slip and free fall
To crash in ad-libbed blabbered blusters.
Act 3
With a nod, last scene folds and curtain falls.
All actors scurry and clamber back on stage
For curtain call or calls, until claps subside satisfied.
One last nod calls it over, and actors slink off stage to wings
Categories:
prompter, celebrity, character,
Form: Free verse
Putting his whole heart into it
Belting out the chorus so loud
Needing a prompter for the lyrics
No one listening in the crowd.
Signing up to sing again
Waiting for his next go
Playing the air guitar
Putting on a show.
The groupies are in his mind
He cannot carry a note
Everyone has left the bar
He needs lozenges for his throat.
He’ll come back again on Tuesday night
To make love to the microphone
Knowing women he will woo
Yet going home alone.
He practices in the shower
He’s gonna make it big he knows
He’s failed three times in auditions
For the American Idol show.
He knows every bar that has a machine
And which nights they plug it in
A regular the bartenders know
Trying not to laugh at him.
No one has the heart to tell him
That he’s wasting his time
I guess living in your own dream
Isn’t really a crime.
So sing it would-be rock and roll boy
Pretend that you’re a star
There will always be a place for you
In the local Karaoke bar.
Categories:
prompter, lifeheart, heart,
Form: Rhyme