#theatre

93 posts
  • artistano1 11w

    .



    I was never a speck of dust,
    i'm just lost in lust.
    Purple and green lights
    on the buildings spread the scents
    of history through the fog.
    I met you through them
    on the city streets and squares.
    Just smile in pass to clown.
    Thank you,
    i'm forever trapped in this town.

    In the warm, rented room,
    noise came,
    the window looked out,
    my eyes are blind.
    Shame.
    There,
    where the gallows
    used to dance in the wind,
    now coats of various colors dance,
    with cold faces under masks.
    Like actors on boards.
    The harsh resemblance
    of theater and life in that square.
    And so I will begin the book,
    the diary of one great love;
    "My home is a hat, it's a small dirty town ...";
    And goes by,
    I'll write to you tomorrow,
    If I don't die.

    As much as I tried
    to escape from myself,
    theater was getting bigger.
    In the beginning,
    it was the words of passers-by,
    some inscriptions,
    or music.
    Now the theater has swallowed all,
    and surrounded me on all sides,
    as I solved the riddles of our encounters,
    and put together the puzzles
    that make this city what it is;
    A scene of super-reality.
    Why is every movement in this city
    a modern ballet?
    Why is everything is you?
    -Another annoying handwriting
    with a mere list of facts.
    Close your eyes, wherever you are now,
    let's at least squint together.
    I will love you tomorrow.
    If I don't die.

    The phone rang
    just long enough to break the silence.
    I called into the handset in vain,
    the call was accidental.
    Are there any accidental calls at all?
    As I listened incessantly
    repeating the sound "tu - tu";
    in the handset,
    I looked in the mirror.
    I light a cigarette.
    Then cigarette light me.
    She approaches the window,
    lithely and sophisticatedly,
    like a ballerina in a theater.
    Night and neon signs
    already covered this town
    and cars have made rows
    of glowing,
    winding lanes.
    She stared at the moon,
    and her bare back
    merged with the moonlight.
    She parted her brown hair
    and pulled on the panties
    that had cut into her flesh.
    The music started.
    Let's play that tango of dead,
    if i don't die.

    I took a smoke,
    she inhaled and began to dance.
    She bent her arms gracefully,
    imitating long-lost wings,
    and made movements by
    drawing concentric circles in smoke,
    and in my brain.
    She wanted to reach immortality and then die.
    I only wanted her.
    What a perfect scene,
    in a city of dying art.
    I'll change your name tomorrow,
    If I don't die.



    Curtain.
    Dark.
    The end.

    Just still counting down
    the rhythm from the handset:
    "tu - tu, tu - tu, tu - tu"



    Artistano1
    @miraquill
    @writersnetwork
    #start #wod
    #theatre

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    Dying art

  • kjumai 16w

    BLUES AND GREYS

    Paint me deep in an inside where feelings float doing their bidding so mindlessly that I have become an intrinsic artwork. Colour my heart. I am tired of the spectrum it possesses. The hues film for free. Inviting species as if it is a theater for opera. I have become achromatic bearing them freely. Masking myself that now my lungs breathe it. Mon peau est chagrine.
    ©kjumai

  • soliquince 27w

    Small play

    Will you be here when I'm done?
    When the lights turn down
    and you're forced out
    into the sun?
    Show's over,
    close the curtains.
    Show's over,
    push the doors open.
    Or will you walk up the stage
    in the aftermath
    and after that
    for each distinct shade I'd painted?
    Red was my favorite color anyways,
    I made it
    for you.
    ©soliquince

  • chandanngowda 31w

    ಅಹುದಯ್ಯಾ ನಾವು ನಾಟಕದವರು
    ತನ್ನದ್ದಲ್ಲದನ್ನ ತನ್ನದಾಗಿಸಿಕೊಂಡು
    ತನ್ನದ್ದನ್ನ ತನ್ನದ್ದಲ್ಲ ಎಂದು ಭಾವಿಸಿ
    ಉಸಿರುಗಟ್ಟಿ ಬದುಕುವವರು
    ಅಹುದಯ್ಯಾ ನಾವು ನಾಟಕದವರು
    ಸಂಬಂಧವಿಲ್ಲದ ಪಾತ್ರವ ಹೊತ್ತು
    ಇರುವ ಸಂಬಂಧಗಳೆಲ್ಲವ ಮರೆತವರು
    ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಸಂಬಂಧಿಕರು ಹೇಳುತ್ತಾರೆ
    ನೀವು ಬಿಡಿ ನಾಟಕದೋರು
    ಲೋಕಕ್ಕೆ ಭಾವದ ರುಚಿಯ ಉಣಿಸುತ್ತ
    ತಮ್ಮ ಮನೆಯ ಪಾಯಸದ ರುಚಿಯ
    ಸವಿಯದೇ ಉಳಿಸಿದವರು
    ಅಹುದಯ್ಯಾ ನಾವು ನಾಟಕದವರು
    ಜಗದ ಬಣ್ಣವ ತೋರಿಸಲೆಂದು
    ತಮ್ಮ ಮುಖಕ್ಕೇ ಬಣ್ಣ ಬಳೆದು
    ಬಣ್ಣದೋಕುಳಿಯಲಿ ತೇಲಾಡಿ
    ಭಾವ ರಸಗಳೊಳಗೀಜಾಡಿ
    ನಡೆದ ಹೆಜ್ಜೆಯೂ ಕಾಣದ ಹಾಗೆ ಮರೆಯಾಗುವವರು
    ಅಹುದಯ್ಯಾ ನಾವು ನಾಟಕದವರು

    --- ಚಂದನ್ ಎನ್
    ©chandanngowda97

  • bivekacharya_ 31w

    जिवन

    हैन रैछ दौड
    नाटक केवल नाटक
    मात्र पात्र फरक हो

    ©bivekacharya_

  • lollipop71 32w

    WHAT'S IT LIKE?

    What's it Like
    To have the Confidence
    And courage to speak
    In front of a classroom
    Of people, or a theatre
    Having hundreds even
    Thousands of people
    In the audience?
    What's it Like?

    How many avoid, or have
    Avoided these situations?
    ©lollipop71

  • timothynorman 36w

    Life’s enriched
    With every show I see.

    Theatre changes me.

  • timothynorman 37w

    Chronic illness is a life of lockdown. I yearn for my own 21st June.. #wod #poem #poetry #theatre #thoughts #stage #London #ChronicIllness #writers #writersnetwork #writing

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    The final night in the wings.
    One last cue.
    Not knowing this would be the end
    Leaving my colleagues, my stars and you...
    Stepping out of stage door without a clue when I’d sign in next.
    The last prop handed to an actor, the final standby light pressed.
    Waving to the lights of the West End.
    Returning home.
    Goodbye, friend.

    Five years. It’s been five years. Chronic illness is a life of lockdown. I yearn for my 21st June.

    ©timothynorman

  • taseefa 38w

    Marrionette

    If I had known would have never enslaved you
    As I had thought highly naïve of you
    Our bodies are there like marionette without words or soul
    Are we in on the stage where love is considered a sin or foul?
    So the curtain will close in the abyss of our thought
    Will we try to fight the scene the way it should be fought?
    They tell to find the pettiness of this dark character
    As she was considered as a heart of a sinister
    This play will also end as the other one did
    Now go take a bow all or heaven forbid…
    ©taseefa

  • artistano1 54w

    ...

    The dim purple and green lights
    on the buildings spread the scent
    of history through the fog.
    I met you through them
    on the city streets and squares,
    forever looking for your steps.
    Thank you;
    I am forever trapped in this city.
    How sad it is to live with memories.

    In the warm room of the rented apartment,
    noise came,
    the window looked out on the square;
    There,
    where the gallows used to dance in the wind,
    now coats of various colors dance,
    with cold faces under masks.
    Like actors on boards.
    The harsh resemblance
    of theater and life in that square.
    And so I will begin the book,
    the diary of one great love;
    "My home is theatre, it's a small dirty town ..."
    I'll write to you tomorrow, Gloria.
    If I don't die.

    As much as I tried
    to escape from the theater,
    it was getting bigger.
    In the beginning,
    it was the words of passers-by,
    some inscriptions on advertisements, or music. Now the theater has swallowed an entire city,
    and surrounded me on all sides,
    as I solved the riddles of our encounters,
    and put together the puzzles
    that make this city what it is;
    A scene of super-reality.
    Why is every movement in this city a modern ballet?
    Why are you all?
    -Another annoying handwriting
    with a mere list of facts.
    Close your eyes, wherever you are now, Gloria.
    Let's at least squint together.
    I will love you tomorrow.
    If I don't die.

    The phone rang
    just long enough to break the silence.
    I called into the handset in vain for a few seconds, the call was accidental.
    Are there any random calls at all?
    As I listened incessantly
    repeating the sound "tu - tu" in the handset,
    I looked in the mirror.
    (Creating a scene)
    I light a cigarette.
    She approaches the window
    lithely and sophisticatedly
    like a ballerina in a theater.
    Night and neon signs
    have long since covered the city
    and cars have made rows
    of glowing, winding lanes.
    She stared at the moon,
    and her bare back merged with the moonlight.
    She parted her brown hair
    and pulled on the panties
    that had cut into her flesh.
    The music started.

    I took a cigarette smoke,
    she inhaled and began to dance.
    She bent her arms gracefully,
    imitating long-lost wings,
    and made movements by
    drawing concentric circles in cigarette smoke.
    She wanted to reach immortality and then die.
    I only wanted her.
    What a perfect scene, in a city of dying art.

    I'll change your name tomorrow, Gloria.
    If I don't die.

    Curtain.
    Dark.
    The end.

    Just still counting down
    the rhythm from the handset:
    "tu - tu, tu - tu, tu - tu ..."





    @mirakee @writersnetwork @readwriteunite #genuine_readers #theatre #gloria

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    .

  • rashmijoshi 59w

    आज भी मै बदली नही

    तुने तेजाब ही डाला था ना मुझ पर,
    पर देख आज भी मै बदली नही
    आज भी मेरे इरादे और सपने
    अभी भी बरकरार है।
    हाॅ माना मेरा चेहरा
    थोड़ा बिगड़ गया है
    पर आज मेरे हौसलो ने
    तेरे तेजाब के असर को बेअसर कर दिया है ।
    हाॅ शुक्रिया अदा करना चाहूंगी तेरा
    कि तूने मुझे खुद से प्यार करना सीखा दिया,
    तुने सिखा दिया मुझे अपनो की पहचान करना।
    देख तेरे तेजाब ने आज भी मुझ पर कोई असर नही किया,
    लगता है तेरे उस तेजाब की बोतल मे सिर्फ पानी ही था,
    जो मेरे सपनो को छू भी नही पाया,
    और मेरे इरादो को और भी मजबूत कर गया।
    चल अब तुने एक अच्छा काम तो किया,
    जो मुझे अपने आप से रुबरु जो करा दिया।
    तुने एक बार मुझे फिर से जिंदा कर दिया।
    ©rashmijoshi

  • triptisinghyaduvanshi 60w

    Joker

    Life is a circus,
    This World is a theatre,
    Every human is a clown/joker here
    and the God is a great ringmaster,
    of this circus.
    ©prakratisinghyaduvashi

  • artistano1 61w

    The days of dizzying madness
    among the people during the holidays
    flowed down the calendar,
    and the calendar flowed into
    the crotch of light women,
    one quick death, and whiskey.
    The city was so beautifully reflected
    in the rainy street under that same sky
    with the crescent moon
    in the canopy of intertwined roofs.
    I just sat and watched that picture
    of that evening idyll,
    while music came from all over the city,
    and stayed somewhere down the street.
    I am completely me.
    It crossed my mind that
    as a child I was afraid that one day
    i would be left alone, under the open sky.
    It seems that we never overcome some fears,..
    I'm far from happy people tonight,
    but I'm in a good place to watch them.
    I will stay until the morning,
    and on the way back I give myself
    rehearsals and nights without rest.
    And to forgotten poets… I promise.
    A couple of wrinkles appeared on my face,
    like some disgust
    with the newly set standard and principles of life
    which occurs in every form of humanity.
    Money, cars, sex with plastic women
    and countless sexual aids,
    around which the planet revolved, ..
    The nights changed almost like the promises, sometimes bright and warm,
    sometimes rainy and cold,
    but certainly short and worthless,
    and seriously ill ...
    But what to do,
    such are the nights in the Balkans,
    the barrel of gunpowder of the poor and thieves. What a beautiful night,
    blessed is the one who has the last ...

    And roll on;

    It began as a whisper,
    and cold fingers without blood,
    they hug every day that comes.
    A pandemic and petty-bourgeois trepidation, conflicts within me.
    Your eyes,
    fall on me like a warm summer rain,
    I stand on that slap,
    drums beat in the heart
    and playing a happy role,
    even though I'm falling apart.

    God,
    the years gather and multiply,
    and they are already wrinkles
    on the face of the eternal boy;
    - Wake up- shake up- make up!
    And one pearl in the dust go into oblivion,
    Darkness in theatre,
    so much silence that
    i hear what has never been said,
    here, or anywhere,
    anytime or never .
    In the mirror is crowd again;
    Me, myself and I

    Everything changes
    and everything passes
    like daylight before complete dark.
    We become conscious,
    but unscrupulous;
    -exercising pleasure
    to the numbness of the senses,
    like when darkness
    catches you far away in the woods.
    Moscow, Russia,
    the hungry stomach of the world,
    walks at night
    and the cold spreads through the centuries,
    like the vampires
    of every theater we will not enter.
    And I did everything to disgust you.
    I played for applause,
    for eyes that can't see.
    Played for food,
    for deaf ears.
    And wrote love songs,
    for people who hate.
    And spoke the words of a dead mouth...

    How equal master and the slave are in evil.
    How simple life is on this soil.

    In my head,
    the tenant answered;
    I pay the rent in advance until May;
    The carousel rises, and spins.
    Texts, plays, roles, mirrors,
    makeup's, smiles, cries,
    costumes, dawns, days, midnights,
    questions "why", "where", "how",
    lunar eclipse, solar eclipse, star eclipse
    and the universe gathers around my head, whatever,
    Show must go on;
    My eclipse;
    The lights come on;
    The curtain rises;
    and life arises after death.
    I took the mask and go on the stage;
    Laughter, applause and fun begin again.

    And remember:
    it will never stop
    - oil wars
    - false democracy
    - riots in the east
    - migrants,
    - vaccines,
    - a trip to the moon,
    - a cure for cancer
    - serial killers,
    - rasism,
    breaking news flooded the world
    And it will never stop.
    Tonight I go out on stage,
    and let the dead words into immortality;
    - "Who will bury me?"


    #theatre #plays #genuine_readers #actors #roles #poetry #acting #artist #writersbay #writers_network @mirakee_words @mirakeeworld @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @writersbay

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  • saskirf 67w

    The[A]tre

    A place that I should bless
    A place that growth my endorphin
    A place that smile seems so easy
    A place that dark turns out so brightly
    A place that horror side seems so joyful
    A place you & me on the first time,
    getting closer to each other
    then had a good feeling
    ©saskirf

  • sunflower_snowflake 69w

    Take off your mask!
    This is not theatre, this is life.

    ©sunflower_snowflake

  • whatjessithinks 73w

    Black


    Black was the colour of the sky outside.
    Black, the only colour on the pallet in his hand.
    The thoughts swirling in his mind, black.
    The water he rinsed his brush in, black.
    Black were the clothes he had on that night.
    Dark was the room he pretended to work in.
    So black was the mood he had set to kill.
    Black was the attribute he needed to succeed.
    Black was the hair of his model, the target.
    Black was her skin, his weakness, obsession.
    Black was the penknife he switched with his brush.
    Black was about to hit the floor.
    ©whatjessithinks

  • whatjessithinks 73w

    Red


    The curtains were closed and the audience cheered.
    The beauty of theatre had again, served its purpose.
    To amuse and enlighten, the troupe had won.
    But this play fulfilled a greater purpose.
    The performers we're pleased for their plan had worked.
    To kill yet with no suspicion.
    Many blinded, fascinated viewers.
    Witnessed the crime that they thought was a trick.
    Theatre had again served its purpose.
    ©whatjessithinks

  • premlakhanavi 79w

    चांद रमज़ानी नज़र आया, तो सबकी ईद हुई।
    चांद आसमानी नज़र आया, तो सबकी ईद हुई।
    बरसों से तुझे बिन देखे, नज़रों ने रखे थे, जो रोज़े।
    आज जब तेरी दीद हुई,मुफीद हुए वो रोज़े, मेरी भी ईद हुई।

    ©premlakhanavi

  • simran2315 79w

    PS- If you are not a grasshopper that jumps out of the hall , once a movie ends , you can definitely relate to this.

    At times ,when a good movie ends, you just want to sit back and stare at the big screen ,vacantly . You gaze at crowd concentrating around the exit doors , soon fading away. You see a trail of names rolling in front of you. Names of people who made you experience this. And the music suddenly starts to fade. And you just sit there in nostalgia. A strong nostalgia of such a recent happening. You place your world on the left and the movie on the right. And then you fuse them with an invisible wave.
    You start consoling with the villan . You high five the coactor with a grin. Forgetting your own problems , you curse God for giving the protagonist such harsh choices. You lament for the death of his friends. You gulp for what Tony stark had to do. Pressing your temples hard for how Joker always had put on a happy face. You run back into your mind , yearning for a magic cupboard or a vampire over your window , or your Hogwarts letter being slipped under your door. You just sit , with stars in your eyes , chuckling at all the sarcasm of the side legs. Drolling over the punches and kicks , flying cars and sometimes people too. Imagining your own trip to Vegas, getting drunk ;or Spain , confronting your worst fears ; and what would it be like , travelling the world with camera , flinging a bag on your shoulder.
    And yet some Movies , make you feel these emotions all at once. You sit speechless , unable to move , as if being there, inside the reel , you smile stupidly , knowing this has to end. You are ready to get those nagging earworms of all the songs that you just confronted.
    And you sigh ,filling your chest with all the air around , as if collecting tokens of memories , as many as you can, doing the most justice. And you stand up , biding a farewell , walking out from reel world to real world again. But you smirk , for you know , at home when you'll lay down on your bed , real will spin into reel again at the mere closing of your eyes.

    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee
    #love #life #140 #live #theatre #feelings #miss #emotions #movie #cry #sitback #drama

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    To the one ,that gazes the big screen ,yet after THE END of a movie...

    You sit speechless , unable to move , as if being there, inside the reel , you smile stupidly , knowing this has to end. You got to get up and move to the exit.



    ©simran2315





    {Read the caption}

  • james_taumas 81w

    Stage

    Cacophonic chatter
    Anxious frequencies abuzz
    Seats filling
    Final call
    Darkness descends
    Curtains arise
    Looking glass opens
    Spotlights ablaze
    Players revealed
    Hush descends
    Transported to another world.

    ©james_taumas