Wills breath

Poured out from page to mouth

That sound of fear and rage

Of loss and pain

Captured and pressed

Along papered lines

Ranked in copied verse

In forest sheaves of lives

Cut and refined in numbered leaves

Stitched and bound are

Telling tales of sorrow and distress

Of commitment blood and anger

Adventure and betrayal 

Loves lost and loves found

The few among the many

The one who could sway

The hearts of those entranced to and fro

As a swollen wave

Emotions rocked back and forth

Watching Listening

Hanging on to each and every word

Translated from written word to liquid tongue

An everlasting charm caught on the lips of players

Past from mouth to mouth and back

In quick and deliberate exchange

Expanded and expounded

An abundant soliloquy

That lies in heavy air left hanging

As they the players tramp and stamp

Upon boards

When ink is dry

And final words are laid to rest

No more sad lament

But emotions fraught and taut  

Massaged and stroked

In lines of beauty and eloquence

In deference to all that is

The harsh ugly theatre of squalid filthy lives

Who have nothing but a good yarn

Relived

Through tears and laughter

Through jeers and broken hearts

Retold for two or more hours

Before they leave

That place where

Parchment becomes story told

◄ Sons

The black and the white ►

Comments

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Martin Elder

Mon 5th Sep 2016 22:43

Thanks Stu and Ray.
You are right Ray about all forms of live expression, I caught up with thinking about the great bard himself and play writing.
Glad you liked it Stu
cheers both

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Stu Buck

Sat 3rd Sep 2016 14:13

something long and heady to get lost in. perfect for a rainy day in wrexham.

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raypool

Fri 2nd Sep 2016 20:25

With some broadening and tweaking maybe this could apply to other forms of entertainment Martin - the creative expression of live performers can enliven our lives which otherwise would be even sadder than they are. Are we not addicted to such remedy?
A very interesting poem to my mind.

Ray.

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