STAGED REBIRTH-:-
pure
sourced
declared
decorated
frescos
now SHOWING A POINT
imaged
appropriate
moods
deeply
impressed
still REMAIN A PRESCENCE
depicted
lyrical
lined
coloured
dimension
My rock group was getting stale
We no longer drew the fans
So I told my sad tale
To a public relations man
He gave me this advice:
"There's only one way to the light
Avoid the image of 'nice."
Let your inner demon take flight.
So we drove my car off a cliff in Malibu
Jumped out first, watched it dive
Made sure a camera man knew
Struck a pose with a high five.
I attended a posh party at night
Slapped my wife, who played the part
sniffed white powder, picked a fight
They rolled me out in a hospital cart.
I set fire to my guitar on stage
Firemen had been called, just in case
They sprayed me with a hose, I feigned rage
Yelled obscenities, got in their face.
But the fans would not return
Now I was without a car and a guitar
Plus dentist bills, no money to burn
Sold the mansion, no more a star.
I went back to my hometown
Helped an old lady walk where the street was wide
Cameras flashed, reporters took it down
that "Bad boy Jennings" had a good side!
Now the fans fill up my halls
It came as a total surprise
Now I've learned when the limelight calls
To be myself, no need for disguise.
When you don't follow up with the dealings,
It seems whitish; much so plain like ceilings
But its upper parts are dirt-
Breaths can not withstand been hurt...
By silent dusty thrill of false feelings.
Trump action is staged
never could have mind engaged
making him enraged
Staged or Stagnant
The gathering of people,
from here and there,
and everywhere,
made possible
by time.
What is important to each person,
yet more important to another,
then the one that is waiting
to hear?
Silence is not possible,
the sound of breathing alone...
a storm of air and wind.
Whispers turned to screaming,
left in echoes for the past to reflect.
The question of why,
never considered.
No one brave enough
to ask.
What was let loose?
How did it happen?
Who gave them permission
to put us all at risk?
Stand your ground when the dogs come,
they will be hungry.
Hold tight to your morals,
and do not give in...
to temptation.
The morning quickly,
the afternoon slows,
the night stops...
The morning feeds,
the afternoon tasting,
the night licks...
The morning prepares,
the afternoon portends
the night falls asleep...
In life there are scenes
continuously staged... !
How powerful the thunderstorm
that rocks the earth and lights the skies;
beyond control, in mystic form,
a battle staged before our eyes.
Sandra M. Haight
~4th Place~
Contest: Arbitrium Divisa 6
Sponsor: Gregory R. Barden
Judged: 01/27/2020
One stanza from my poem,
"The Thunderstorm," posted on February 17, 2018
Link: https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_thunderstorm_995194
Each night I leave my blinds up just a bit
A distance calculated to perfection
I live for those mornings where the sun rises
And blares suddenly through my window
Drenching and kissing my sleepy face
Flooding me with a swift deluge of gold magnificence
So very still, I refuse to move a fraction of an inch
It’s a most overwhelming sacred and sublime ritual
Opening my eyes as slowly as possibly I can
And breathlessly greeting the rising morning sun
Savoring each moment of its warm embrace
Knowing the feverish moment is ultimately so fleeting
When my eyes can feast on the splendor
Of glorious colors spilling over the horizon
The symmetry of crimson, tangerine
Pineapple, butterscotch and daffodil
The most magnificently flamboyant production
Staged for my ultimate delight
Till residual taste of honey and marmalade
Vanish from my lips with every atom of me
Profoundly invigorated and energized
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on July 17, 2018 for contest DUSK OR DAWN sponsored by EMILE PINET - RANKED 3RD
Poetically fractured retractions
gnashing night prayers,
scribbling braille,
written sideways
dipped amid holy water retention,
compromising statements
of disbelief's proclamation
spinning music the color
of nakedly sick psycho, yet
burnished souls keep on ticking
half past total trade-offs
in a spoonful of smoky reflections
sans sugar's acid trip,
anointed of rose red
bloody false pretenses
dancing off center
in disillusioned
pirouettes of pseudo redemption,
whirling out of control on
staged tapestry's loftiness
surrendered ballet slippers
in blistered half promises,
as twisted metaphors sprightly
tuned out spun anomalies
below birds on a rusty wire tweeting
admissions of cobalt blue executions,
rendered inky alterations' inquisitions
'pon pedaled pink fluff profundity,
exhaling paroxysms of engaged poetry
in vehemently enraged deliverance,
naught one is ever as they seem
through pigmented film 'neath
figment's imagined looking glass
of ingratiated grand delusions
Is it novel,
or the persona of
writing a book
Is it accomplishment,
or the ability to
brag and to strut
Is it knowledge,
or the prestige of
having a degree
Is it passion,
or a fire blown out
in the breeze
Is it devotion,
or the favors
your hope seeks to buy
Is it emotion,
or an act put on
while others cry
Is it loyalty,
or the badge you
can wear on your sleeve
Is it heartbreak,
or just words feigned
to con and deceive
Is it strength,
or the muscles that bulge
in your arm
Is it beauty,
or the makeup you wear
when you charm
Is it vision,
or a view from
another’s back porch
Is it time,
or the minutes and hours
you torch
Is it courage,
on the backs of soldiers
who paid
Is it love,
or an image
just mirrored and staged
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
After Midnight Musings - impromptu
cleverly staged
the way you are
slinking in your
trinket-ed skin
oozing pure milk
and manuka honey.
cleverly staged
the way you are
slow as molasses
a flaming lick of
hot lava, the
epitome of life's
thirst-
life's thirst for
a mere droplet
to be overcome
by your
charming ways
the way you are
cleverly staged.
A staged presence, and we your crowd
You, a strutting cockerel proud
This but an act nearing the end
We dull creatures suitably cowed
Your voice a gentle thunder cloud
Lights dimming over rows you've plowed
Hide from the spotlight, lies avenged
A staged presence
Your recitations growing loud
Frantic pacing, your will unbowed
Lean on costars as their best fiend
Disappear as curtains descend
Face made up, your burial shroud
A staged presence
-----------------
Trying a new form tonight
The cleansing heat of the midday sun
Warms my soul
The ladder proffered down to escape my hole
I sit, we sit, they sit
The aches take their toll
chrome reflects tanned hips...
saliva on hungry lips
beer from the stage drips
Another wave of whispers.
met the vibe.
Excited.
What was wrong with people?
did they realize,
implications of something bad?
One might have it,
that translates to excitement.
Found Poem: Kate Brian- Invitation only
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