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You are a nova in the thick midst of mediocrity
Detoxing hollywood's formulaic Poison,
By Feeding me fruits of originality;
A breath of new air, missing from
Incompetent directors, who sacrifice
Quality on the altar of money.

Free from blemish,
Pure in talent,
Clothed in consistency,
The bitter voices of critics
Remain silent from the gutter.

You sealed my depression;
Binding him to the lowest dungeon in my subconscious,
Depriving him of my pessimism which he feast on, when you
Pulled me into your gentle arms,
With your metal wings of comfort.

You danced through each scene,
Moving us deeply
With your raw performance
Pointless to be mimic.

Alita,
Cyborg of the skys,
The box office has found favor
With you!
Your screening still stands
Victorious amongst a sea of
Mudanity.
ShadowSpy Aug 8
My lifes a show
Filled with sorrow and danger
Its not a promising film
You'll hear them say
As the scenes
Play across the screen
I glance at the audience
The theatre is empty
Except for me
I reach down and stuff
A handful of popcorn
Into my mouth
Hoping that'll stop the sobs
Even though
Theres no one watching
ill tell you, my lifes probably not the movie youll buy a ticket for
Mona Aug 1
wine n dine
they say
faux sophistication
how pretty

oh culture, they say
but there's a price to pay
for the theatre show
endorse inclusion yet divide into rows

the stage is free
art they say
entertain me in exchange for pay

******* culture
deeper entrenched
day by day

isn't it peculiar?
we are politically correct
yet flawed in every way
shhhhh, that's not what you are supposed to say
We feel ourselves rogue and peasant slaves -
In that is no disgust.
Collectively yet to have been stripped of
Our formalities, plunged into fiction, devoid of normality -
An undiscovered country, if you must.

We doze cosy in dreams of passion
Where space and silence nudges pens; they bleed.
Though liquidity stiffens
Flair and genius warm the air
Assuming a pleasing shape, indeed.

We weep under a broken voice
When seas of trouble rise to strike us down.
Remorseless - how can it pause to pick and choose?
Treacherous - anxiety bedevils our news
But temporary, false is its crown.

When we think or moan, twiddle thumbs or disengage,
There is nothing, not even tears, that dares to drown our stage.
[Crime-scene. Time ceases to exist for YOU,
the necrophile. YOU are on top of the corpse.]

YOU:
Cadaver, corpse, a body's just a body
and yes, I'm guilty, sleeping with the dead
it loves me, then it doesn't love me.
                                                             ­ [Beat]

The rosary you must! To rest in peace, so
transfigure me baby while warm on my bed.
Cadaver, corpse, a body's still a body.

Indulge me; martyr to your livid beads
please intercede for me, oh, please I beg
for it loves me, then it doesn't love me.
                                                             ­ [Beat]

Now shall I exorcise you; set you free, from
the purgatory found between my legs?
My body, yours a corpse, but still a body,


And when your sinews loosen, skin erased
by time who shows no mercy for the dead,
will you still love me then, or won't you?
                                                            ­  [Beat]

To resurrect is daunting, but you shall have
the body that my kiss declares undead.
Cadaver, corpse, a body's just a body,
which loves me, 'til it doesn't love me.
                                                             ­ [Exeunt]
Troy Feb 12
"What will you do with your theatre degree?"

I will work day in, day out
To become someone else
To tell a message
To the entire world
a story

I will crack open the skulls
Of many making them
Rethink things
They once thought they knew

I will show everyone
Who doubted me
That they were wrong
And I have the capability
To do anything I please
As long as I believe in myself
And work hard

"I don’t know."
The ticket inspector,
Or, collector
Otherwise known as
The Ticketeer
Anticipates me foolishly
With great stalactites of sweat
Immersing him
I deny him the pleasure
And stroll into the washroom
Arthur Clack Jan 27
As she steps forward to take the final bow
and as she steps back into the dim amber glow of the fading spotlight
that once shone so brightly
she realises this is her last
she looks out towards the applauding crowd
their eyes twinkling like stars
their claps roaring like thunder
the velvet curtains close
leaving her in darkness
leaving her Alone.
M Grant Teague Dec 2019
5 till curtain
5 till my character rises again
5 till they spill my guts
5 till smiles hide death

Thank you 5
I hate you 5
A Theatre nerds dread and delight.
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