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Polly Jan 15
Is this all I am able to give:
This pleasant view for the beholder
This pleasant sound for those who wish to hear.

Am I just the fingers that clasp around the other glass of wine at your table
Am I just the number to add weight to the crowd
Am I but the silent partner
The pen to paper
The background music
And the ticket sold
Randy Johnson Aug 2019
You've been dead for the same amount of time that you lived, forty-two years.
You were loved and your death devastated each and every one of your peers.
You didn't perform in all fifty states, one state that you missed was Montana.
You performed your last concert on June 26, 1977 in the state of Indiana.
Two of your hit songs were 'All Shook Up' and 'Hound Dog'.
You had great taste in motorcycles, you sure did love Hogs.
You had a wonderful life but not a life that was long.
When doctors constantly prescribed those pills, it was wrong.
You loved to give away Cadillacs, you truly had a heart of gold.
It was very sad to lose you when you were only 42 years old.
One of your friends saw you putting a hole in your foot with a drill.
When he asked you why, you said you were doing it to get more pills.
When you died on August 16, 1977, every one of your fans were in tears.
You've been dead for the same amount of time that you lived, forty-two years.
DEDICATED TO ELVIS A. PRESLEY (1935-1977) WHO DIED ON AUGUST 16, 1977.
Brent Kincaid Apr 2018
I’m the entertainer,
So nobody will touch me.
The truth be told
They don’t think much of me.
I’m paid to be here
Not like the shimmering guests.
They take their pay in champagne
And believe they’re better than the rest.

I perform for them, smiling,
I show them a happy face,
And do my very best to make
An evening they’ll never replace.
I make music and joy all night
And make sure to be grateful
If someone leaves a tip in the jar.
Maybe tonight will be fateful.

But probably I’ll go home
Alone and completely forgotten.
They’re a beautiful basket of fruit,
But too many have gone rotten.
It’s not that they are evil people,
It’s just that they don’t care.
I am the background music
Doing something, somewhere.

It makes perfect sense to me,
They didn’t come here for this;
To revel in the brilliance I will show.
They’ll never know what they miss.
They won’t even notice it
Unless there’s a song they really love.
It’s almost performing for myself
And letting my talent rise above.

So, I perform for them, smiling,
I show them a happy face,
And do my very best to make
An evening they’ll never replace.
I make music and joy all night
And make sure to be grateful
If someone leaves a tip in the jar.
Maybe tonight will be fateful.
Graff1980 Feb 2018
What a dashing figure,
shirt unbuttoned halfway
as he delivered
his lines with grace.
However, this is not a gay man’s appraisal
of another man’s handsome face,
but a straight and secure observation,
a poet’s reflection
informed by the actor’s
performance.
Derrek Faraday Sep 2017
The boy was driving out
Before he forgot himself
“What did I believe”, he cried out,
“On the bookshelf?”

But it was awful chilly, it was
For an afternoon
So he turned to friends, but spoke none 'cause
A mouth don’t fit on a loon

Biding time with a droopy eye
And changed his name again
Goes by a fool with a cool catch
To earn his name on cement

He is the son of summer
Winter at his feet
Doesn't remember forgetting his innocence
No matter who he meets

Yes, ma'am, thats's a dual voice you hear
He seeks high fidelity
Fully faithful, a sun-fearing queer
The caricature to be

On the stage, the things that he wrote
Those memories bygone
Come crashing down on him and he can't emote
The clown's not having fun

Finding time with a droopy eye
And changed his name yet again
Goes by a fool with a cool catch
To earn his name on cement

He is the son of summer
Winter at his feet
Doesn't remember forgetting his innocence
No matter who he meets

Praise be to cherry pie
And all the faces that made me feel that I
Could settle on "by and by"

Praise be to anyone
That put me under the blistering sun
I'll get back there, its true

I just got more to do
Seanathon Jul 2017
Tonight I get to do what I was meant to do
To be who I was meant to be
And although every eyeball in every line of sight may be fixated on me
For an hour or so
That doesn’t change the fact that I
Was meant to step out this stage and to bend like a bow
As I did in the days of old
Such talent is still stretched within me
That I should perform, and that I should play, most doggedly
Until the finely threaded twine within my mind begins to unwind
And I am straight as an arrow hence
Laying on the table before, how I once had said
That I hope I can return once more for that again
But not for this I said
Not for this
Sometimes you need to stop before you can keep going. *nod nod*
ryn Apr 2017
He presents what you see
with impeccable finesse.
He hides everything else behind the curtains.
Heavily veiled by his smiles...
Cleverly masked behind his script.

He stands elevated, taking his stage.
From his vantage he sees all.
He allows his facade to bask in the light...
Whilst keeping his back in the shadow.

He's renowned.
By the light that kills the dark.
He's addicted to the nightly ovations,
cascading cheers and gleaming reviews.

But every show has an end.
Come every dawn, he wakes to the reality
that tolls at his door.
He's owned and he knows it...
Too well,
by the stage he built
and the drama he wrote and casted.
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