On life's stage, masks of false smiles dance in the lights,
People seem close, but distance hides behind the curtains.
In whispered conversations when friends leave, the truth is unveiled,
Online, perfect vacations hide dramas and swirling sorrows.
No one is truly bad, just people carrying unseen burdens,
Insecurities and fears that sometimes make hearts seem astray.
It might be jealousy or a bad day that casts a shadow on kindness,
Pessimism settles in the soul when you realize the greatness and fragility.
Like a shattered myth, you understand that no one is truly perfect,
Those who seem to have it all under control play a well-chosen and select role.
You stop expecting dreamlike friendships, seeking only a few sincere and real ones,
And you understand that it's enough to tie your soul to loyal people.
Truth trips the tongue mid-stage
the mask cracks in the glare,
applause feeds on the lie
failure wears a spotlight.
youth fades with truth
truth holds the proof
smooth words uncouth
truth hides the proof
uncouth truth
What do I wish for my wild heart?
In this trail is the finest art.
That is why I am almost there
With Lydian lyre and lore, or more
Cher sings her effectuated soul,
Discerning hearts excite the whole.
Like a song we all like to improvise as we all go along.
Like a stageplay we like to have reasons to pretend and play.
Like a semblance we like to be with whom bring us balance.
Consider the man in the street if you will
what's he doing there standing stock-still
maybe like the chicken he's crossing the road
and half-way over with nothing better to do
only slowed to admire the view
perhaps he's pushing his luck
for remaining stationary no doubt about it
he'll be hit by a van car lorry or truck
let's hope it's not so as hearing them coming
the man in the street beats a hasty retreat
making hay he hits the ground running
and his narrow escape's a clean getaway
to dawdle or dilly-dally down all his days
The vibrant popinjay has gone.' The harlequin no more really
Spins in song.' The magic's now all in a can.' Younger female backers
Parry times looming advance plan..' The age'd icon takes his glances
Across the acres, of yearning souls in hopefull trances..Parody banners they lie.' beneath sultry skies.' Echo the effigy of the past, See it burned in the mans eyes.'
Actions Describe.' Writ large the irony of life.' Youth has
Flown.' All hail its ghost, Ronnie strums, the speakers hum.'
Geri-acrity...Fumbles combinations and with alacrity..' 0yet theres really not one chance.' No way back.' All I see is false hope.' Rod Stewart is a husk.' Not yet voiceless.' Nor danceless yet
Its the back end, of the romance.!
Act one had just begun
on the day we met
how was I to know the die was cast
and the stage was set
Act two what was I to do
when you stole my soul
who'd have guessed the part was mine
and I would play a leading role
Act three now you're with me
I put my heart into all I do
should I fall before curtain call
I could put my heart in you
Act four can't ask for more
I won't miss a line or cue
it's beyond my wildest dreams
a fairy tale come true
You applause the actor
Her harmonious tone
Her play of words
Her triumphs heard
But do you love the stage after the song
The leftover footprints from where it sang along
Atoning for every step that was missed
Retrieving the dust from her accomplishments
The dust from the skill she used to win
The dirt from the shoes that store talent within
She takes a bow and stifles her breath
For love won’t come if she shows weakness next
But no one applauds the stage after the show
For being there, for laying low
For setting a platform all but their own
The cleaners perceive them as one last chore
The light flicks off, and what is love?
The stage hadn’t known, from being alone
And it will never know, until the lights flick on
And the cleaner applauds it for all it has done
To make it on the stage, in this day and age,
I'm convinced, Contacts and Clout are what it's all about.
Woke up this mornin', feelin' all washed out,
went down to the local drugstore, for a bottle of Clout,
the druggist he said, 'Sorry son, we're all sold out.'
Woke up this mornin', feelin' all turned about,
went to my family Doctor, gotta have a bottle of Clout,
he said, 'Ya gotta go cold turkey, you'll have to go without.'
There's no doubt about it, I need a bottle of Clout,
gonna shout about it, 'What d'ya think I need?
'Well, yes indeed, I need me a bottle of Clout.'
Woke up this mornin', feelin' such self-doubt,
went to the nearby Grocer, said, 'Gimme a bottle of Clout.'
She said, 'I'd like to help ya boy, but now, ya just struck out.'
Woke up this mornin', feelin' all burned out,
went to the downtown Dealer, to score a bottle of Clout,
he said, 'You're outta luck man, there's none of it about.'
Yeah, it's an affliction, wish I could lose,
it's my addiction, I got them mean ol' bottle of Clout blues.
Theatre
Something happens I can't explain
It feels enclosed quite like a train
Within its wall you are truly set free
To be yourself or who you want to be It's like, let's pretend, or dressing up
Childlike feelings, they fill your cup
Escaping, distracting the daily grind
You can leave your worries all behind
Rehearsing, sets and stage lights
The anticipation of opening nights
A team feeling for those not so sporty
Rare chance for adults to act naughty
A sense of purpose shared with all
Commitment, a time to stand up tall
Drama, thriller, it is always a farce
Mischief and tears, acting an ****
If you act with respect to all around
A home from home is easily found
In our theatres, dreams come true
This beautiful place is open to you.
As a young child of five,
I found myself in dance school.
It was a fun place to make new friends,
as we learned about dancing.
After a year of training,
we were ready for our big dance recital.
The exciting night finally came,
we were dressed in hot pink outfits.
Now it was our turn with music playing,
we marched out onto the huge stage.
Bright lights were on us,
as well as every eyeball from the many seats.
The lead girl froze in place like a statue,
so please "Hold The Applause."
I stepped in front of her,
and kept on dancing.
The other girls followed me,
as we danced across the huge stage.
We finished our dance recital,
now we will take your applause.
He steps into moonlight, strings ablaze,
A spell-bound master in a midnight haze.
Notes crack like lightning, dark flames rise,
Echoes twisting through spectral skies.
From covens deep and forests old,
He forged a sound both fierce and bold.
A serpent’s hiss, a banshee’s wail,
His fingers dance—an eerie tale.
The runes he carved upon the fret,
Summon storms not soon forget.
A single chord—a whispered curse,
Reality bends, the heavens burst.
Shadows coil around his hands,
Summoned forth from haunted lands.
Specters hum, the witches chant,
A melody none dare recant.
Blackened sparks upon the strings,
Woven spells in trembling things.
A tremolo dark, a sorcery wild,
A lullaby sung by the moon’s lost child.
Thunder answers every shred,
Winds obey the notes he bled.
A final wail—a spectral end,
And silence bows to music’s bend.
They told us silence was golden
but we learned it was a cage.
Now, the locks are rusted open
and we are stepping on the stage.
No more whispers in the margins
no more shrinking to fit the room.
We speak in every shade and story
our words like seeds that bloom.
We are not echoes of one another
we are a rising storm, a lion's roar
And we will not rest until every voice
is heard, is valued
is free.
The Stage,
The blueprint of consciousness,
A Labyrinth left within this,
Molecular living witness.
Atoms are energy in this existence,
Building a world in the present tense.
Every moment a new experience,
A chance to dance in the performance.
Growing entities sensing change,
Reality starts to Rearrange.
As we make the energy exchange.
The blueprint is looking strange,
It's designed to seem deranged,
It's the reason you've changed.
You're no longer chained,
Only stained by the cage.
Find the courage,
Turn the page,
The blueprint,
Is your stage.
‘All the world ‘s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.’ (As You Like it Act 2, Scene 7)
(A Sonnet Inspired by Shakespeare)
The Hollow Stage
We slip upon a stage unmade by hands,
as viewers' eyes, like spotlights, burn above.
Our script is scrawled in fusain, as per plans
of carved agonies, most disguised as love.
Our opening verse in screams and gasps for breath,
then crawl through acts of mischief and of pride.
A longing laced libretto until death,
while swapping roles in masks we wear to hide.
The victim dies, the set with danger fraught,
the hero fails, the clown cries on the scene.
Elusive dreams are cheaply sold and bought.
Our exits come abrupt, precise and clean.
We play our parts yet know the truths engage,
that curtains fall and hollow is the stage.
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