Short Onstage Poems
Short Onstage Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Onstage by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Onstage by length and keyword.
My palette is empty
after over-busy school
and tense homework.
By the time dark night
staggers onstage, sleep is my
longed-for, sexy muse.
I’m greedy for sweet,
numb sleep or perhaps to dream
love-flushed fantasies.
Listen to poem:
Encore
David J Walker
The Straight-Line life will
find a way to wind
its way in time
Save the savings they say
for a future day
Save the savings for
play days and dates in a future
unsecured
I am the today onstage
there will be no encore
and therefor
No tomorrow
No yesterday
A woman onstage second to none
Incredible in so many ways
With just a piano she shines like the sun
And lights those who hear with her rays
This voice that excites all the senses
What a treasure exists in her phrase
If I had my choice I would live in that voice
Until the moment I'm called from my days
Come home soon, I miss you much
I long for you, to feel your touch
Inside my heart, with you engage
When standing side by side onstage
I glance real quick to watch you sing
You're in my ears, I'm listening
To only you, your voice so sweet
You're all I want to hear, repeat :II
Improperly furnished with words alike the proper onstage guffawed and remarked, slighted and sent ribbons for acts that blanket at dusk with the manuscript rack, heaving against the pages like a concubine the throes of these pages batches of wine, like those that are deleterious these are cursed the same but they struck from their pages, the unequal dim range.
New life comes
with new love.
I’m not sure
if I’m just desperate,
or It’s really true,
but I just noticed you today,
And believed in happy endings once more.
Listened to you sing.
Watched you dance onstage,
almost make a fool of yourself.
I laughed,
waved and cheered you on
more than anyone else.
don’t know why
I like you
But I love this feeling.
I find myself having to act
onstage, spotlight trained and fixed
The Sad Clown
Laughing on the outside
Crying on the inside
Lying, pretending, dishonest
its all one big game
customer asks "How are you today?"
Lie: "Good"
True feelings submerged
only 10% revealed above water
until i get home @ night
then the Sad Clown is exposed in the darkness
Stunning in a hot pink dress
Under spotlights, does impress
Elegance and fabric flow
Radiance and smile glow
Captivates this poet's heart
Compares to no one, set apart
From all others, style and grace
A natural, she sets the pace
And when onstage begins to sing
The walls in heaven start to ring
Resounding from angelic voice
No further contest, she's the choice
Never so scared
Chains on my chest
Can't hear me
Help
Help
I am exposed
I will be hurt
So obvious
So vulnerable
Panicking
Shutting down
Can't shut down
Have to go onstage
Can't go onstage
Shutting down
Can't shut down
Have to go onstage
Can't go onstage
Shutting down
One hour twenty minutes left
Please help
Please help
I'm stuck
I need my binder
I left it at home
In my deepest fantasies
I am onstage singing with Glenn Hughes
We are doing the Deep Purple songs together
Both playing bass
The crowd is cheering and yelling
Giving us all their love
And then it’s time for the bass solo
Glenn points to me and says go!
I shred the strings and bring the o-bass to life
Nothing could be finer
Then I awaken
To see it was all just a dream
it would be a last request, before the gallows
like baloo sings it
i'm being led there, the narrow path between the
faces of the people
my hands tied behind my back
the rope taut against the skin
and i'm going,
de-zop-ba-ronie
hap-da-dee-ba-lat
da-dat-dat-non
hey, a-baby-dot-doo
zaba-doo-doo-day-doo-bop
doo-boo-doo-day, ze-bonz
za-bop-bop-bobby
we arrive
i turn to the hooded executioner.
'take me home, daddy.'
They were invincible
whenever they’re onstage:
piano on the lead
with violin
as his accompaniment.
They toured the cities,
the parks as well;
soft harmonies they played
that all, including men
went envying them—
violin had felt betrayal
from her own bow.
It snapped her strings;
made it sever—
leaving piano out of tune.
Despite his downfall,
piano persisted performing
on stage, but alone—
playing his wife’s
funeral song.
While in my parent's attic, years ago
I found a dark brown, tattered, leather box
and wondered what strange gift it might bestow
therein, as I released the two brass locks.
Inside, were grandma's paperweights- two rocks,
a lantern-like desk lamp that lit her page
for stories she had crafted through old age,
and fountain pen, well used, to scribe her years-
her past and present- there for me, onstage-
through gifts of manuscripts- I held with tears.
June 21, 2020
It hits my nose
Vanilla rose
An onyx ring
Wow, can she sing!
This bluebird fair
With long brown hair
And gorgeous eyes
Yeah, butterflies
The brightest smile
Seen from a mile
Her very essence
Onstage presence
In denim, dresses
She impresses
Clicks and cues
And comfy shoes
Boots at times
The stuff of rhymes
Ok, I'll stop
I've said alot
But there's much more
I hold in store
The nth degree...
Believe you me