Thespian Poems - Poems about Thespian

I call him Thespian, Sheba told me as I stared at the beauty. Naming this creature would have been a marvelous duty. With one half of his face black with an emerald eye. And the other blonde with a blue orb, he was quite a guy. He looks like a magical beast, I stated, he felt magical too. His feet...

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Will tomorrow be just another day, will I smile, laugh, enjoy the day. Will I be fighting back the tears I feel building waiting to explode, feeling as though my heart will implode. Aware of my soul trying to slither away from its shell. My body, shaking on the inside, uncontrollably. My voice just wanting...

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If I weren't afraid, I'd act on the stage A thespian I would be When I witness a show I yearn to be up there as part of the company But deep down inside I am desperately shy An acting profession I'm too afraid to try Though way back in my past I have trodden those boards as I stood on...

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The craziest thing I have ever done Is dress like a hooker in an off-the-shoulder sweater, and the tightest, lightest baby blue hip hugger, bellbottoms, in order to procure the lead to the senior play. I had to sneak out of the house, dressed in red lipstick and false eyelashes. I am a Bible-belt girl, and belting out the Bible was...

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There are stages you run to, and from stages to hide The performance of a lifetime, or the shame that will chide There are actors in character, and stand-ins on loan One change in direction —and all meaning has flown (Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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often she'd stay the weekend. I'd give her these turnovers. She'd reject them at first by saying" yuk, you eat pig ears"! but one day she took one and ate it. She request them every easter as part of our easter party. We've been married for twenty three years now, and these turnovers are what...

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There are stages you run to and from stages to hide The performance of a lifetime or the shame that will chide There are actors in character and actors on loan One change in direction —and all meaning has flown (Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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You re-house Machiavelli’s soul in your foul frame That soul great guides your head and heart; Not what you learnt from the kitabs Beacon to you is Lucifer’s own light. With verisimilitude unseen, With finesse unthought of, You pose as a Judhishtir. But Dharmaputra, I know you Engineer mischief meanest. You are the mid-husband of Old rustic plot, Vile stinking villain You know not- unhiegynically you...

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