They wrote this play to target
folk like us to be together.
Anyone who share these types of interest
would find this worthy of paying
money to see.
It's a neither lacks excitement or meaning
instead it combines them both
with the popular detail that makes
something entertaining and great.
The play set it self uses a three room set
and a laboratory set where
the actors engage into the exciting skits
of know thingness
that fuses a storyline
which creates villans and heroes
allowing the folky people create
the narritive which
might instruct the audiences
sense of what's happening.
The guy wears a mask and stands
to distance him slef
while another man who knows whats going on
and he knows why it's going on so he
engages into foolishness with no purpose.
He dawns the same mask and stay's in the distance
too. The badguy mask wearer is looking for
the secret formula: he knows who has it
and he know's where it is. He must get close enough to
retreive the formula which he beleives to be his.
Goodluck Production company in collaberation with
Break a leg Drama Inc.
and VerbArea Music Company. Border and Cuclorama
Direction and Staff.
We mortals have eyes to see,
ears to hear, noses to smell,
and abilities to feel and taste.
Under normal circumstances, we are
blessed with these senses at birth.
After birth, things go rapidly relative.
A pessimist sees a glass half empty of water.
There is no rain and the wells are running dry.
Soon, there will be no water for us to drink.
An optimist sees a glass half full of water.
We are overdue, and any day now, it will rain!
There will be plenty of water to survive and thrive!!
A REALIST sees a glass with a certain amount of drinking water.
It may or may not rain. So, we must prepare for possible pain,
conserve the water we have, and develop a plan of distribution.
So beautiful I could cry.
Memories never lie.
Sorrow never says goodbye.
World’s so wonderful with blue sky.
So happy I could die.
Energies always high.
Tomorrow always says hello.
Life’s so worthy to live by.
Through a realist optimist’s eyes,
Memories, energies are never lies.
Through mine sight there’s always lights
Forever in all my world’s life.
Beyond a realist optimist’s sighs,
Memories, energies always help to fly.
Beyond mine mind there’s all I’ll find,
All so nigh in my lifes on world with blue sky.
Romantic
teacher, writer, fitness enthusiast and self-proclaimed movie critic
who loves family, friends, and food,
I play with words, explore interesting/controversial topics and celebrate life;
feel grounded in my Earth sign, zealous in my goals, and happy in my solitude;
fear having unresolved issues, becoming helpless in old age or suffering pain; would like to regain perfect health, take a family cruise and visit faraway friends.
Homesick for Iowa, I’ve resided 3/4 my life now, however, in the Beehive state -
Realist
March 29, 2020
Contest: Bio Modified Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Andrew Newell Wyeth the artist
An American realist painter
Choice subjects were local land
And people around him
His art reflects plight
A father's hold
Keeping him
Very
Close
Andrew Newell Wyeth-July 12, 1917-January 16, 2009.
His art has an emotional pull that seems to draw me in.
Inspired by Nayda Ivette Negron's contest favorite painter.
Like a reaccuring nightmare,
Pondering life from the armchair,
Abruptly submerged in distant memories,
Leaving a smile that could last for centeries,
What if's plauge like vultures on decaying remains,
Feeling as if I'M enranged,
Impossible to dimiss those memories with adapting triggers,
At this point be-friending the liquors,
Dreading as everything said was meant but with much unsaid,
Unfortunately words chose to fall on deaf ears,
Hopeful that no mis-understandings weren't sent,
But to any extent,
I loved you.
I lose count of words
were whispers the only way
but too soft or too vain,
then could I hold back and hurt
in ways speaking volumes
you never knew,
I would. And stare
into mirrors looking
for the words of a woman
I wish I were
But this too moves
me on to her and all she's gained
for trying, a thousand pieces
sometimes well put
Those I'll claim
for all the worth,
asking not but what is
surely selfish
And I'll bear shame
for the art of a realist
for the natural wish
that she never be lost,
that you never forget her name
Passions for expectations with life were none
Till the teenage accepted life as it came anon.
Went to gym, played games, attended school
Swam in the open sea, life smooth and cool.
Might’ve been endowed with great expectations
In gestation to perform later in life like everyone.
Sprouted while in the university educational zones
Both of literature and dramatics as milestones.
Both meted out in career as a university teacher
Not so easy but had miles to go in my endeavor
Was quite fortunate to meet the inspiring persons
Who directed me to perform the righteous acts.
I did meet my expectations later in matured years
Performing Moliere in his own country and theatres
Attending the poetry conferences in three continents
And honors in literature that missed in early periods.
Aimed for the moon but reached the sky amidst
Never complained about the wind like a pessimist
Never expected the wind to change like an optimist
But adjusted the sails like a down-to-earth realist.
+++
October 14, 2014
Form Free Verse
Dr. Ram Mehta
Third Place Win
Contest: BIO by Regina Riddle
I'm an idealist and a realist,
For my ideas are not dreams but reality in motion.
The idealist sees the world as moments away
From bounding into a Utopian day
And the people that steal-
Can’t truly be real-?
For what helps another- is theirs they say
And the idealists see the moon with delight,
A gem upon the goddess of night
The idealist is a happy old soul.
The realist sees the world as moments away
From reaching the pinnacle in its eternal decay
And people that steal
Are certainly real-
And must readily be punished today
And the realist sees the moon as a sight,
Of dusts and stones in the darkness of night
The realist is a stable old soul.
Idealists and realists I don’t know what I’d rather be
One soars and crashes-
The other walks purposefully
Idealists and realists I guess I’ll just let them be
For one holds the world together,
And the other sets the world’s dreams free
He wears that thick black belt
but that doesn't make him a man.
He does heavy duty work but
he never goes, is he a man?
He is tough and talks a lot of trash,
does that make him a man?
He provides,utilizes,and compromises,
with his child and keeps child from going
through denial,come to think of it,he's a
man now.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.