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Rehearsal

PostPosted: Sun Jun 17, 2007 10:50 pm
by Saturn
Rehearsal

Waiting in the wings,
Desperately cramming,
Trying hard to learn
An unwritten script;
The message remains
But the lines change
Every day, scenes
Are undivided still,
Only dialogue lives:
Extempore utterance
Is all that I know.

Has the language
Of love now become
So archaic as to be
Unintelligible today?
Are not the thoughts
The deeds, the actors
In this eternal drama
The same as of yore?

One day practising
Oratory: such speech-
Impressive, yet cold,
Another time verse
Blank and empty.
I cannot frame
In words so few
A play of so great
And weighty tone.
All my work undone
Is by a glimpse of
The leading lady.

I will not be left here
Conning in the dark,
An understudy, prop
To any other actor.
I will not share
This wide stage
With any but you.

I will not support,
Will not be handled
Like a bit-part extra
In your life's scene.

Give me the lead,
The romantic hero
And see me shine,
Leap from walls,
Swing chandeliers
And sweep you off
Into the distance.

Awake, I stare
At the curtain,
The dead-end,
The cut-off point.
It's much too thick.
Nothing I write
Will ever do,
Will ascend
Past the dusty
Hem of your
Affection.
________

PostPosted: Mon Jun 18, 2007 12:43 am
by AsphodelElysium
I really like the middle part of this poem, where the speaker becomes more assertive. Starting here:

I will not be left here
Conning in the dark,
An understudy, prop
To any other actor.
I will not share
This wide stage
With any but you.

I will not support,
Will not be handled
Like a bit-part extra
In your life's scene.

Give me the lead,
The romantic hero
And see me shine,
Leap from walls,
Swing chandeliers
And sweep you off
Into the distance.


There is so much need and so much strength in those lines. The reader almost believes the narrator is to confront his actress.

I enjoy the musicality of the last stanza very much even though the narrator doesn't have the confrontation.

Awake, I stare
At the curtain,
The dead-end,
The cut-off point.
It's much too thick.
Nothing I write
Will ever do,
Will ascend
Past the dusty
Hem of your
Affection.


Love, love, love this: "Nothing I write/Will ever do,/Will ascend/Past the dusty/Hem of your/Affection." Another good one, Saturn. :D

PostPosted: Mon Jun 18, 2007 2:05 pm
by Saturn
Thank you AE :D


It's about waiting and choosing the moment, looking for the right time to say something you've been rehearsing in your head for years, but getting stage-fright every time :(

PostPosted: Tue Jun 19, 2007 12:50 am
by AsphodelElysium
Saturn wrote:Thank you AE :D


It's about waiting and choosing the moment, looking for the right time to say something you've been rehearsing in your head for years, but getting stage-fright every time :(


If you'll indulge me for a moment...but it reminds me a bit of when I went to tell my best friend, Brian, I was in love with him. There really wasn't a good moment because the consequences were going to be the same no matter what. As it was, I told him in the parking lot of a BP station and he informed me he already knew and had known. Its just one of those things, you know? In any case, I feel you, I know how it goes. :?

PostPosted: Tue Jun 19, 2007 4:10 am
by dks
Stephen...Edward and I read this aloud...I have determined you have crafted what is to become instantaneously classic lines in contemporary poetry:


Give me the lead,
The romantic hero
And see me shine,
Leap from walls,
Swing chandeliers
And sweep you off
Into the distance.

Awake, I stare
At the curtain,
The dead-end,
The cut-off point.
It's much too thick.
Nothing I write
Will ever do,
Will ascend
Past the dusty
Hem of your
Affection.


Stunningly immediate and urgently yearning...love, love, love this. :!:

PostPosted: Tue Jun 19, 2007 2:21 pm
by Saturn
:oops:

Thank you as ever Denise your opinion means a lot.