"upstage" poems
worlds converge in a papercup
come, come you on the tambourine
me on the harmonica
let's make music without the adjectives
let's live on the jingle-jangle of coins
tara na! this pavement
is our carnegie; metaphors
sans adverbs -- no illusions, no fantasies.
you and me and this street --
dancing like gypsies on a prairie
later tonight, while the moon watches over
we'll upstage the stars
with **** adverbs & adjectives
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 8:57 AM UTC
Come friend,
I have an old story to tell you-
Listen.
Sit down beside me and listen.
My face is red with sorrow
and my ******* are made of straw.
I sit in the ladder-back chair
in a corner of the polished stage.
I have forgiven all the old actors for dying.
A new one comes on with the same lines,
like large white growths, in his mouth.
The dancers come on from the wings,
perfectly mated.
I look up. The ceiling is pearly.
My thighs press, knotting in their treasure.
Upstage the bride falls in satin to the floor.
Beside her the tall hero in a red wool robe
stirs the fire with his ivory cane.
The string quartet plays for itself,
gently, gently, sleeves and waxy bows.
The legs of the dancers leap and catch.
I myself have little stiff legs,
my back is as straight as a book
and how I came to this place-
the little feverish roses,
the islands of olives and radishes,
the blissful pastimes of the parlor-
I'll never know.
5.6k
As far back as the middle age,
then, Europe planted for our good;
directed wisely by the sage,
that all the places these trees stood,
would be for pleasure and for food,
for friendship, love and loyalty,
that we be not misunderstood.
Come stand beneath the Linden tree.
The others, one tree would upstage;
brought Slovenia nationhood.
All meetings there they would engage
beneath its branches, when they could,
to benefit the neighborhood
and people came from far to see
the rulers of the public good.
Come stand beneath the Linden tree.
The Linden tree, it will assuage
with blossom, root and bark basswood.
Cure you with a proper dosage
so take the tea just as you should.
You'll be filled with such gratitude-
drunk on flower scent heavenly.
Come circle round this fine softwood.
Come stand beneath the Linden tree.
O prince let joy be understood:
Come see the way we live so free.
Come to our homes, come to our wood
Come stand beneath the Linden tree.
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 7:15 PM UTC
*Sacramental Elixir & Illuminated Blues,
Experimental Flauntings Of Her Midsummer Hues,
Radioactive Eyes & Her Fairytale Lies,
Seductive Abuses Across The New Divide,
Vivid Intersections In Her Phenomenal Rage,
Shatterproof Reflections Splattered Upstage,
Midnight Passions Of Her Perplexed Lust,
Starlight Rains Glittering Hybrid Dusts,
Transitional Paradigms & Engineered Moans,
Theatrical Concoctions In Her Symphonic Tones,
Flirtatious Illuminations Under The Darkest Light,
Stained Animations Igniting Kryptonite,
Palisades Of Her Collated Reflections,
Cascades Emitting Her Sedated Projections,
Contraband Infatuation Resonating Magnetic Love,
Raving Constellations Provocating Atomic Dove,
Divine Catharsis Of Her Cupid Amour Eternity,
Valentine Bliss Mystifying Her Restrained Insanity,
Charismatic Futility & ****** Binge,
Cinematic Tranquility Emanating From Her Bulletproof Sins,
Neon Subways & Fragile Foreplays,
Sensual Arrays Of Her Red-Light Decays.
- 03:53AM -*
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
I stood apart with aloof dignity
A distant smile
He was upstage with strangers
Erudite I am with many
Downtrodden was never
Aloof for the school of accepted
Erudiate becomes obsolete
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 3:48 AM UTC
He's Uncle John to you, but John to the rest of us
Got a way of telling stories without the fanfare or the fuss
He can jump into any conversation, has a lot of stuff to say
and every bit is interesting 'cause that always been John's way.
There was one about his summer job before 1970,
paid to push a Swan-shaped boat off a dock in Asbury
With a grapple hook on a ten foot pole, or something of that sort
well he'd push 'em out and pull 'em in wasn't doing it for sport~
The same guy who owned the swan boats, tunneled love across the way
twice a week John worked the darkness, but preferred the light of day.
Played rhythm at the Upstage in band called 'Cory' later
workin' Perkins in West Belmar, took the name from the percolator
Around that time he grew his hair out, it was like an Afro-sheen
mistaken for Tinker, a surfboard chinker and drummer with Springsteen.
Cruisin' down around Brookdale in his '39 LaSalle
Met 'Stinky' Tink at Thompson Park, where he was singing with his pal
Hey John, you look like Tinker,
but now you favor Gere
a live ringer for Mike Richards,
and don't forget DeNir-
Oh, if you can't remember anything from 40 years ago
just ask your Uncle John who knows the time in Tokyo.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 5:57 AM UTC
sweet jesus
life is outrageous
listless alligators
try to upstage this
drift from forms
to formless sages
residual wages
furnishing your cages
threadbare leather workers
raid our refrigerators
rage is impulsive
sullen lisps and swollen lips
frame our faceless daughters
in their water glasses
houses of hunted howling
hourglasses
dreamcatchers and dancers
humongous lanterns
burning pages
place-mats
on your dinner tables
why do they feel so out of place
is it the way we are made
have you any
doubts about your origins
what is the worst
thing you’ve ever faced
are you exposed
to typos regularly
tokens of penmanship
and fraternity hazings
hostelries and banquets
growth is dependent
only on intangible quotients
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC
I'm off to a wedding tomorrow
My plus one being the empty seat waiting for a mystery to sit itself down in it
Oh, about that wedding tomorrow?
The bride has a request....
Don't question the groom
And attempt to be a polite guest
Don't upstage the figure in center stage
And for the love of demands, be mindful of the dress
He's spent months and she's spent years
Leading up to this utopian day
Of white cake and dry tears
For those two words, sealing a promise of eternal affection, to be said
Ending a possible life of possible dread
And the fear of solitude to remain as that, just a fear
Such a seemingly simple request, don't you think?
The wedding tomorrow is sure to be worth a drink
Allow me to capture this essence of love
Marriage being such an on-the-brink
I'm off to a wedding tomorrow
My plus one being the grateful empty seat waiting for the solved mystery to kindly make its way to another bridesmaid
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
Reflective lining bears the passing years
of crinkles carved and worn to that of age
and from the mirrored galls a hearse appears
with thought to carry; when shall death upstage?
This day? When larks resound of warbling birds
as garden's glaze, the vernal blossom glows
amongst are playful kin of callow words
and yonder meadow green, my love in pose.
Caressed by cherry blossoms, from a time
when youth we swayed beneath that ruby tree,
her amber curls would kiss verdure in prime
with lissom twirls that blessed my eyes to see.
When I shall drift away from worldly plush
and leave I shall, let not; in springtime lush.
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 2:01 AM UTC
At the end of the dance what do you see?
When they collapse
What do you see?
The leads
The dog
That cute girl in the third row
That way the stage right girls legs are wide open
The cute boy who's in the splits downstage left
The upstage left girl that's in a bent line
Or do you see the other side of thing
The way one girl keeps her legs together
Because she modest
The nice looking boy who's in a legs are in straight line
Because he brother was *****
Do you see the girl who put makeup on her arms
To cover her scars
Or do you see what I see?
The boy in the front
Yeah, you know who I'm talking about
The popular one
He's the one with the perfect life
Put in the front row
He huddles
Into a little ball at the end
Fetal Position
Because he's scared
Scared that someone knows
Know what he covers
His skin, his emotions
Only one can recognize one of their own kind,
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
Posing so as to make us go ah
In a swimsuit design off comes the bra
The outrage of Betty page
Never showing her true age
Tempest and Bunny where backstage
No one could upstage the image of ...
Betty Page
Now in high heels and leather?
These gals upset the weather...
Clare d.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 9:29 PM UTC
The buildings bleed an eerie glow
as if we, out of admiration,
attempt to match the stars celestial show.
It’s a cruel mockery, seeking sensation
rather than substance. They upstage
the ensemble, pulling a florescent curtain
across the night sky. Yet another page
for man’s book of certain
destruction and delusion;
Another picturesque illusion.
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 6:11 PM UTC
you are the generative one
the seed of infinite aspiration
palaces are built in your honor
patterns of movement and measure
can never upstage your immobile empire
your nobility is inherited
its inherent in the smallest flower
its a form of dynamic retribution
for simply becoming conscious
is never really all that easy
so breathe and surround yourself
with memories of meteoric impermanance
the tragedy of seeking in your reflection
a relief from all this suffering
is symbiotically all-perceiving
that life is neither necrotic nor entropic
as every cell is erotically pulsing
and longing for its opposite
until it fully gives itself to love
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 4:21 PM UTC
Oh, that honest smile you got from a text message
you drinker of malty beverage.
you swam into your so called religious cage,
rage, as you never engage
constituted in the same page
the law of your anger gauge
dismayed; in your skirt that is more of a beige.
while you tell stories about your wage
proving nothing, ever as we age.
cleavage, you show while upstage
so you now project that image?
faith flows in a drainage.
increased sagging comes with heavy usage.
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 6:35 AM UTC
Have you noticed how bad news arrives
In packs of three collectively?
How odours cling to secret parts
Unless they’re washed selectively?
How luck deserts the most deserved
Right in their hour of need?
How the will deserts the injured
When their wounds begin to bleed?
How the mysteries of the universe
Defy all logics' course
And the brave desert the battle
With the Captain on his horse.
How that ******* thing called happenstance
Will upstage us every day
And the thieves who owe us money
Intend to actually not repay.
How the rot is in the woodwork
And the stench pervades the air
And your wallets always empty
Because the Missus beat you there.
How you’re feeling kinda flat
When things refuse to spin your way,
....How ya should have stayed in bed
And ****** cancelled out today!
Marshalg
Up to my backside in trouble.
23 Novermber 2010
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
confession: i wish i had never let you in.
i kissed your best friend after witnessing a drunken bar fight and thought about the way your fingers slid skillfully through my hair in your 2 am secret-infested bed. i thought about the planets of this magnificent world while you held every single breath i attempted to take back from your crystallized eyes. your hands sent vibrations through my body and amongst the jumbled whispered words drowned in true blue music, i wonder what we lost and what we learnt amongst the engulfing darkness. every time i step into your room it feels like an ocean of familiarity, tainted with a slow beating heart that's begging for a companion that would never be me. time started flying by when the universe saw how absolutely enchanted i was with the way you drove your car, the way you grasped my neck when my moans screamed that they wanted more, the way those boys shot daggers of envy when you were seen beside me.
now, i scramble to place together the beautiful words you spoke to me when we lost our carelessness between ***** sours and silly **** rips because they were the only ones i believed, the smoke danced in the sky like gypsies riding the dawn of morning while we bathed in golden sun rays. the clouds told stories of our passionate demise. i lay in my bed during the early morning hours before sunrise; before the last star in the pre-existing night sky vanishes and i think about you and what you could be doing. have you found something better? do you still dream about my silky, youthful skin? do her lips taste as ripe as mine?
these are questions i continue to entertain myself with. i let my mind flash back to when i had that pinot grigio in my hand and i watched your best friend perform upstage and i glanced over at you, your face without a word, nothing to be traced.
confession: it was too hard to love you.
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 8:46 PM UTC
she recounts her life with the lovers she's had,
reliving adoration as she counts them off on her fingers
she showcases their best qualities
I cannot upstage her
I recount my life with prescription bottles
plastic and pharmacies
the time I swallowed all I had because I wanted to be happy
while she recounts, I relapse
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 12:55 AM UTC
Engels extolled the height of manners
still I would've liked him to trans Europe permanently
He was such a dampener scribbling
midnight fury
on the oxide of causation
still he starched his collar,
not realising he persists Karl
to upstage Darwin on Capitals demise
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
They may sneer at me in malice
Criticise and carp
Sully my shine by slinging mud
And my self-perception warp
I think my star annoyed them
As it, fiery, lit the night
A platinum bead, pearl of heaven
And conduit of light
But they wished to see that star to fall
Plummet to destruction and obscurity
And as the bad luck poured on down
Over my life, they gloat with glee
But I eternal rainbow
That towers over, upstage the rain
When judged by god for lies, misdeeds
They’ll finally be smothered in their shame
Apr 25, 2023
Apr 25, 2023 at 5:50 PM UTC
Pockets of peonies
Replete with felonious undertones
This music sings through space
We upstage our own angels
Who have fallen into place
To the depths of their fate
They make a soft landing
Held by time's grace
They repel the light's bending
While biliousness bulges
And consternation compels you
Is it corpuscular or crepuscular
Neglect that commands you
To make your escape
Do you select denial
As a worthwhile opponent
From the depths of my being
To the depths of the ocean
The sea floor is waiting
For you to touch
Her unfathomable bottom
Its never easy to escape your prejudices
For the shadow is ever lurking
Beyond your uncertainties
We are all floating
On top of a volcano
If it never erupts
We’ll not know the difference
But if it does
There’s not a chance in a thousand
That we’d survive long enough
To heed even one of these warnings
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 3:55 PM UTC
The stars shine bright
as the moon emits light
It's all prettier than I write
I write about depression
My obsessions
and my daily confessions
It's easier to write
than to fight
most of the time
I write by candlelight
or so I wish
I instead write by a LED light
The one I bought on wish
but that's not the important bit
The sun & the moon
will always upstage
this fool
after all,
they're too
**** beautiful
Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 8:45 AM UTC
the set
upstage center
layer on layer of red brick
one door with screens
three steps in faux cement
bay windows on either side
action stage right
a young girl dances in rain
wearing a fake leopard-skin
leotard
action stage left
a man builds a garage
from a cardboard box
plan
wooden boards the
color of brick
action center stage
a young boy aged ten
poses proudly in
cub scout uniform
a woman snaps a pic
downstage center
a man plants a tree
near the road
he waters the tree
he mows the lawn
stage left
a 1950 Olds cutout
sits in the driveway
in the pit
the concrete street
has no sidewalk
a woman rides a bike
pedaling in rhythm
she waves at the
neighbors
the boy grows up
this is his fake house
they are his fake family
he waits for his
curtain call
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 12:45 PM UTC