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Open Poetry #32
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Act 1 sc.3
| Open Poetry #32 |
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Act 1 sc.3 |
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Professor Gloom Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082of Depression |
The stage is bare, but for a single chair, it is bathed in light, on the right; the other side is left to shadow The chair is empty in the center of the light, A cloaked and hooded figure walks by the chair And talks there by the edge of the darkness Beyond which step, length doesn’t matter, T’is the last step, into the shadow, Beyond the soul, raw spirits shatter, T’is a lost soul, casting to fallow. Exit Figure One, enter stage left Figure Two From inside the dark edge, Quietly at first a female voice. What step was it that cast me here, Living yet no longer feeling my fear, Or anything, length doesn’t matter; Doing the enduring evermore No longer caring about the rich and poor, My reality, through regular injections does shatter. Stepping into the light, just to turn and return to the shadow side This shadow, in fertile fallow, Where a fantasy foul wallow, This shadow, that poisons no longer choke, T’is a lost soul that spirits can no longer provoke. Exit Figure Two Enter Figure Three Stage right, man in a business suit, sits in chair. Enter Bus driver Stage left, with chair, opens it placing it ahead of the chair that’s there, Sits and begins to drive, Enter Figure Four Stage right, dressed casual comes with two chairs, Places one beside Figure three, and one behind, sits in the one behind Bus Driver: Roads upon roads, I take thee riding, To which ever destiny you’d be abiding. Figure three stands, moves forward to the Driver, then away. Figure Four collects the three chairs, and Exits stage left, Bus Drive takes his chair and Exits Stage left. These thoughts assails my thinking The yesterday that I didn’t really want to be in, Those events were too many I looked for a way to help but there wasn’t any, The event thoughts keep returning I try to think around the past emotional burning Trying to be more positive, And not too worrisome of how you’ve come to live, To accept things for how they are For things have progressed and progressed far And all my thoughts don’t matter While the situation slowly becomes sadder. This life assails my living, Where concrete and asphalt make the land, A place of take and take, not giving, But meager bread crumbs and the slap of the hand. Where repetition of similar days Machine guns itself deep into my misted mind, Scrambling the future with gray yesterdays So is this a new day with hopes and future? Or another yesterday of mediocre torture Exit stage right Gloom |
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| © Copyright 2004 Aszard Drazlom - All Rights Reserved | |||
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Oh my gosh, Professor -- this one certainly has a life of its own! It was very unique -- also hauntingly sad. And, definitely Gloomy.  ....jo |
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ThisDiamond Member Rara Avis
since 2002-02-22
Posts 9353Michigan, USA |
In a deluge of smoke...the spirit calls back sending sunshine to the abyss, and behold... rocks and streams Intense Gloom |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
gawd! wow! |
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Professor Gloom Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082of Depression |
Thank you, ilana, Pleased you liked this bit of a play, Not sure how much life it has, Perhaps it has a death of it’s own? Thank you, ThisDiamond You honor me with your words, Intensity is part of my make-up Rubbed in hard till it dulls the eyes and glosses the bone. Thank you, passing shadows Gloom |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
"This life assails my living" Amen. "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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