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Alicia Moore Nov 2020
I step out into the streets,
Ready to mimic the actions of those I’ve learnt from.

I do not understand the gleeful tones and beats
So I adapt another one’s joyful flow.

But I wonder how far this fake peace
Stretches across the land of our one and all.

Am I mimicking the mask of another mime?
I worry for the number who are stuck in a rhyme...
If the words are caught in your throat, reach out to audience instead of the fellow masks surrounding the curtains.
indistinctively I took a hasty step
the ground below my feet rumbled
balancing my way on a thread like lawn
comprehending how it's like to be free

thoughts corrupting my mind
compulsive actions I do like mime
I ask myself countless of times
is there an end to this
once upon a time?
Jésu Jackna Jan 2020
I'm into the dark bloom
I cried for the doom by an obscene colostomy
do not dare to ask whose

I just shall not answer in my mask of crystal
I sniff my pain
I shout my regret
but, could I give this guilt a culprit or a name anyway?

The lines of fear start to turn out my brain
even if it is going to devour me
let me be mysterious
even if you know what the plot is
Is the light a fool?
Or just am I being the silly mime?
I disintegrate on the void of their heart
My head creates non-existent memories before my disease  
but at the edge of the lame time
who I am to blame?
Just lose you in the deepest ditch
where the ache is not drilling my walls
just the silence of my biggest penumbra counting my clock’s sand.
abby Nov 2019
reach out and touch my soul
the flames in me burn hot as coal

I have the token
I paid the toll

you do not yet know your role
so you slow down

you lift me up, knock me around
why must I always play the clown?

I mend the tattered fabric of my heart on the other side of town
your heart sees mine like a tunnel throughout time
we communicate through movement and love through pantomime

I find it difficult to let it go
a few months have never seemed so long ago

I've come back to let you know
I'm on fire
Mark Toney Oct 2019
An emperor spoke in poetic verse
Which led to fame for him at first
But after some time became a curse
For the emperor had no prose.

Poetic measure determined his fate
The body politic could not relate
Leaving people in a befuddled state
Yes the Emperor had no prose.

Seeking solutions from all his wise men
Beseeching them each again and again
"When will poetic proclivity end?
For I'm the Emperor and have no prose!"

Long and hard the wise men thought
With no answers to the solutions sought
So they hemmed and hawed, yelled, argued and fought,
Still the Emperor had no prose.

The Emperor ended his quest in time
No cure for his affliction could he find
Relinquished the throne and became a mime
At least he was able to pose!
4/26/2019 - Poetry form:  Light Verse - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
mils Oct 2018
I'm running out
in this point in time
Being walked over
Talked over
I am not a mime
Lady luck, make me a route
Out of this pit, help me climb
Poetic T Nov 2016
How can I expand on my thoughts that pushed me
to the conclusion of what was proceeding was indeed
not out of desperation.
I was artistic in my endeavours, but with a little one these
concluded in less than affluent earnings. I could not feed us
with words or palettes that seeded blank canvasses alone.

I would borrow off friends but one can only ask out of
pride so many times. I want about to be looked upon
as an Oliver of adulthood, can I have some more mate.
Never would I stoop to that as I had a child of innocence
to bring up in the correct manners of the world...

But when the food banks rescinded my pleads for food,
not for me but a child that did nothing wrong.
A mind was set in motion an undertaking not to use violence
in a manner of vocabulary where none was to be used...
I sent my baby of to school her thoughts not of what I was
about to levitate myself too...

I approached its doors, I had wondered past different times
to see when streets and this monument to moneys endeavours
was least to show in the manner of silent desks and minds
wondering on there own. I entered in sullen thoughts that I
wasn't doing this for me, but us. I walked up as gasps of the few
were heard, I thought the attire appropriate for this moment.

I saw her eyes glance in direction as eyes orbited around the
room ours were synchronised. Her oceans were what my
thoughts were swimming in and as I washed up on her shores
I handed her the note. She blushed as smiling she opened it.
"This is a robbery I have a gun, my bullet is my words and I
am going to steal your thoughts away,

"Ok, lets recap for a moment I was an artist and I had fallen
for this woman in a hundred lifetimes that were condensed into
this one, she asked me to ask her to marry her in a  unique way.

"This was that offering in gesture and word,
But in my eagerness to be the artist, I had pondered on what
I'd just done. Seconds past and then alarms bled on my ears.

"What can I say I was daydreaming and the last a hundred
and forty  words that just played in my mind were just dreams,

"Back to reality,

I just realised that I was indeed staging a robbery, "CRAP, "Crap,
"Ruunnnnnn, I was within grasp of the door when I
heard her voice like an angel breathing on the air, "Stop him,
I turned winked, which I got a puzzled look and into the air
of freedom I stepped only to see those men in blue saw my
features and they ventured in my incarceration in haste.

I tried to run, but I was up against an invisible wall they were
gaining so I found the lock and ran though that door.
I locked it, lets see the boys and girls in blue get around this
so I ran with all the speed my legs could muster.
Looking behind I saw them just run straight through that
which took me at least a minute to get through...

Catching on my heels I was nearly at my end, I thought
only of my daughter I did this for her. Maybe not the
right way, but I couldn't let my light that shines so
bright be silenced by the hunger that no child should
suffer.. I cried as tears streamed through blurred vision
"I love you my baby, daddies so sorry,

As I thought those words, I stumbled through a door
not of my own making. What visited my sight in
silence but those of my kind artistic in virtue and like
penguins we fell over like dominos. Not a word but
silence and startled gazes. The police bust in to find
not one suspect but a room of 1000 mimes in silence.

It took time but I was set free as my thought of individuality
was repurposed with the thought of how close I was to
losing everything. On the news they said that a mime had
tried to rob the bank with no gun but a hand in the shape
of holding something that wasn't really there? one thing
caught my eye, the bank teller spoke a few words.

"Strangest thing ever, but I have to say he was cute,

"I was cute, hell ye, "what was that daddy? I smiled
and cuddled my girl as I was a free man and my artistic
heist wasn't a complete flop, as those that I had collided
with had handed me a card in silence. My first job,
a pay check I had food on the table and we smiled.
I never broke the law again my baby was my only thought.
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
She was crawling inside her little world, hoping to hide
Her world and her emotions would turn on a dime
She tried again time after time
Hoping to find away across the widening divide
Over the knife sharp rocks of her life, she couldn't climb
It was her scars that cry, she was nothing more than a mime
Being thrown again into the abyss, it was all war crimes
Now she just laid there given up, nothing rhymes
Randy Johnson Jun 2015
A **** was set free even though he committed a crime.
The reason why he was set free was because I'm a Mime.
I was on the witness stand but because I'm a Mime, I wouldn't talk.
I take my job way too seriously and that was why that criminal walked.
Because I wouldn't testify, everybody in the courtroom started to yell.
The judge was so mad that he found me in contempt and put me in jail.
People are still angry because I wouldn't give my testimony.
My wife divorced me and now I have to pay her alimony.
If I hadn't taken my job so seriously, that criminal would be rotting in prison.
I'm going to get a new career because that's something that needs to be done.
This is a fictional poem.
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