Tag Archives: actor

first act, insanity; next stop, recovery

“I never meant to hurt nobody
I never meant to hurt you, no, no…”

~*~

acrid laughter is ringing in my ears

good-natured, perhaps, to them

but the sound pierces like twisted barbed wires

straight through the caliginous corners

of my teeth, bared like a regurgitated heart

and almost—if not just as—crimson

as the fucked-over severity in my demented head

but sometimes it feels good to simply pretend

that the banter is a little less than risque

and i let my agitation be fooled…what an idiot.

as i’m sorry plays like a stenographic record

etching deeper grooves in the back of their stares

but never playing the right kind of music

am i screaming a typhoon in your clear day parade?

i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i want to cut it out

i want to cut my fingers open to point it out

and take all the sharp-edged blame all for myself.

but my testy temper rides on the flexible bullet

severely mutilating this nascent entertainment

that masqueraders and pantomimists have played

for the melancholic, esoteric, plastic actor

and you insisted on applause and receptivity

despite my initial protests against it all

for i am not your contagious chemistry audience

but i surrender my scab blood to you anyway

and keep clapping on and on until my hands fall apart

like a marionette’s lamenting swan song;

like this borrowed skin that sheds itself as we speak.

their laughter is mutating into vicious sneers

stabbing like blunt edges of a mangled fountain pen

and making me grit my shattered teeth—

your fogged-over eyes interpreting it as a smile

amused, but i’m simply bemused by my endurance.

i’m tired. i’m tired. i’m so fucking tired.

of the teasing testing taking terrors tampering

with my dysfunctional mood, its revolution ever retrograde…

it’s not your fault. did i ruin your sunshine again?

i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.

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In The Presence of Perdition

“And it is from this world of darkness
Which come the evil, destructive forces of man’s nature.”

~*~

Come one, come all, to the audience of the deceased

Have a taste of the pleasure that your rotting tongue missed

Sit before the actors regurgitating lines in vaudeville sarcasm

And your skin is stitched directly to the burning emblem

So curse all the horrors and scream at the fainthearted

A minor threat, a copycat’s tragic death, bloodshot gazes averted

Give out the two-faced masks that conceal the grotesque

For that flimsy veil of deception that only ire savages protect

So hold your breath and shut your lungs, there’s no other place for the living

Break your grasp and lose control on the mausoleum graves we’re dancing

I’m built for blame and bland on sins, severed eyes won’t see the true vision of hell

And I can’t be saved by devotees and war-bent crimes they preach on the chapel

But don’t worry, I’ll still clap along to the act until my blistered hands catch on fire

Dante’s inferno is just a burlesque caricature compared to this hellish life that even the devil desires.

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Does The City Sleep If Everyone’s Awake?

Drop every pretense, drown every sense you own
For the girl that you love, girl you loathe
Insistent pretext, so what does that make god?
To the girl that you love, girl you loathe…

~*~

Follow home the darkness in the midst of distorted lies

A bellicose pretence that overshadows the most jaded of eyes

Entering, surrendering the only control left to be held back

Indignant morose affability surreptitiously painted black

.

For the girl that you love left her heart in the shadows

She’s keeping it there locked tight and burning the evidence

And the boy of your dreams has a nightmare in his head

He keeps a musket under his pillow for such a circumstance

.

Secrets dripping at the tip of their tongue, are you getting tired

Ain’t it so pretty, the way their drunken minds are wired?

The curtain’s coming down, but the burlesque act continues

And the naked audience and all the masked actors are in on the ruse

.

The flickering streetlamps may not last until the end of sunset

And you may have lost your empty wallet stumbling in a cabaret

Taking profound philosophies from barkeeps, pouring another drink

Don’t know if that sleaze three tables over winked or just blinked

.

Follow home the oncoming intrusion of light in the haze of inebriation

An avaricious pretence that promptly overpowers any realistic temptation

Surrendering the only control that wasn’t there to hold back in the first place

Coruscating affiliations underhandedly leaving hearts without a single trace.

~*~

The girl that you love, girl that you love
Girl that you love knows you don’t
Followed her, followed her
Followed her, followed her home…

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Vita Dell’aldilà: An Tragedy Opera in Four Parts

A makeshift smile, a polished look
Some rehearsed lines was all it took
He had it down, man, he was good
A woman screams, her mother weeps
A life so changed irrevocably
What he stole from her is gone for good…

~*~

ACT I: TERRO

Shadows under a spotlight, curtains calling and faces falling

Misfortune malady and maidens in masks, tickets outselling

The man of the show, the leading actor dies of a heart attack

They applaud his craft, the prima donna screams come back…

~*~

ACT II: INFERNO

Pantomimes place props, as paramedics arrive for scene two

The act has turned, audiences gasp, orchestra goes crescendo

A stagehand slips and farers faint, dim lighting and all is dire

Cigar tossed, a painted background of inferno catches on fire…

~*~

ACT III: PURGATORIO

The doctor announces the demise of a thespian, tears are shed

Performers pause for unfortunate condolence, in a quiet stead

Breaths hushed and whispers silenced in devastated memorial

As the stage director pays his respects, and indicates the burial…

~*~

ACT IV: PARADISO

But the artists recover, as the crowd settles down to a murmur

Limelight brightens, musical tempo, inquiries made no further

The poor cadaver carried away to the morgue to be cared upon

Death might watch from the audience, but the show shall go on.

~*~

When the purest soul is stained by sin
To the public eye where can she begin?
She lost it all and it’s gone for good
And she may never beat the system
But she won’t rest until she’s turned
The villain to the victim…

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metal & skin (ix.)

i can’t

blame you

for this

bladed tragedy

after all

i’m just a curious

actor who

wanted to be part

of a story.

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Hurt

“Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame.”

~*~

Dear Mr. Warrior

The war is over

An adventure

Of three men

Quite clever

In a quest for

Their home to

Be the saviour

You stood guard

To battle though

You can’t forget

You still forgive

With satisfying

Regenerations

And an ending

Of a marvellous

Peaceful painting.

.

Dear Mr. Ollivander

The battle is over

You’ve done well

To guide Mr. Potter

Curious young man

He was entranced

With good reason

With your wands

So finely created

For the final stand

Of evil reincarnated

And thus fell darkness

Saving the wizard world

From being defenceless.

.

Dear Mr. John Hurt, sire

You shall hurt no longer

This legacy you’ve left

Has never been stronger

With your entertainment

And your elegant talents

A prolific skill and roster

Films of sheer diversity

Your characters strange

In their own set stages

Faces finely well played

Performance for the ages

My dear Mr. Hurt, good sir

Your life has been a rose

It’s time to take the final call

Upstairs, may you peacefully repose.

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Mr. Moneybags Will Have His Fickle Comeuppance in Los Angeles

It’s so relieving
To know that you’re leaving
As soon as you get paid
It’s so relaxing
To hear that you’re asking
Wherever you get your way
It’s so soothing
To know that you’ll sue me
This is starting to sound the same…

~*~

You were smoking bones

As if they were cigarettes

Miss the tale called home

Affiliated with a sickness

That ate through cuckolds

Made fools out of cocottes

Making poker dealers fold

And hat in hands to fought

Where were you when she

Died last night? Asking for

Extra straws from the sea

To suck up its open floors

.

Ambitious was your hobby

Buying fortune from clowns

Earning leprechaun money

Wearing a replicated frown

With apparels of gold velvet

Canes of candy in platinum

Fevers of e.coli and scarlet

Eye contacts tinted iridium

Where were you when she

Died last night? A roosting,

O’er open fireplaces calmly

Whilst she was screaming

.

For help, with blood flumes

Cascading down her nicest

Sunday church dress, lunes

Devouring into their behests

Waiting for your latest calls

When broken windowpanes

And her tears started to fall

Pilferers feast, no shame in

It; where were you when she

Died last night? In bed, with

A hired trophy wife, unguilty

Living a millionaire’s dream

.

Now you’re a failing destitute

Case, has-been in showbiz on

Industry, hailed dropout brute

With a buck to his appellation

Living in a cardboard box flat

Selling signatures no one will

Take off your hands, you’re but

An extra in life’s silent film reel

So, just where were you when she

Died last night? Wishing that you’re

Dead, junkie OD’d, madness addicting

Suffer as she sits in Heaven laughing.

~*~

She’ll come back as fire
To burn all the liars
And leave a blanket of ash on the ground
I miss the comfort in being sad…

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Presenting…The Star Of The Show

I’m still the same old fictile jester

Making an utter fool out of myself

Laughed at by cruel tomato pelters

A class-A entertainment from Hell

.

I’m still the same old freak show

Adorned with ugly crimson scars

A main dollar and fifty attraction

Your most fucked-up golden star

.

I’m still the same old string dummy

Ventriloquising for false attentions

Puppeting makes me appear funny

In this wooden world discrimination

.

I’m still the same old bad maestro

Orchestrating all my envoi failures

In a barrage of dissonant calypsos

Ending a cacophonic musical score

.

I’m still the same old painted harlot

With one foot stuck in sinking grave

Pity her, oh poor girl, I get that a lot

From snarling vultures I have staved

.

I’m still the same old burnt out actor

Standing in an empty five-foot stage

Masks placed to hide, deceive horrors

Tickets waved by a prop’s appendage

.

I’m still this delusionary world’s same old national idiot pertained

Wishing in vain to live just so I could wish vainly to die another day

Shame that you couldn’t see who I truly am past this velvet curtain

Too late for the encore—the theatre spotlight’s already closing up anyway.

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The Darker Thespian

No one else knows it, but I am an artist;

A writer, a painter, an actor, jack of all trades, I have it all

But not a conventional one, for my inspiration lists

At the very void of my brain and the ruin of my soul

.

I inspire myself by dragging my emotions down

Depression is very welcome, for he’s what fuels my mind

I sacrifice and suffer, for artistry I’ll scream and frown

A passionate artist, for my craft, leave my common sense behind

.

I weave chromatic words together with the darkness of my heart

Create a web of lies, my burdens dictate my art

Scratching words on a pad, hoping someone would notice me

Creating my own reality and cautionary tales with poetry

.

I paint works of arts with a sharp brush and my own blood

The numbing pain, the crimson rain, give me joy, it’s quite odd

Painting pretty pictures on the canvas of my skin

 Covering my ugly scars with better ones, abstract to its kin

.

I practice my acting by faking my feelings everyday

It’s all a stage play to me, why does it matter anyway

Tons of masks to hide me, all plastered upon my face

Trying to compete with a society that is the greatest fake

.

I am an artist, and this is what I do so far

Everything I feel for this world, on my works and creations it lies

But shame now that the world has lost another star

For my artistry finally drove me to the wall and lead to my demise.

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The Truman Show Delusion

(About the delusion: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Truman_Show_delusion)

~*~

All the world’s a stage, the people all say

And you’d think that they know better

But as soon as the cameras come out to play

They get controlled, turn blind, and I am the only one smarter

.

They think that they could fool my clever, clever eyes

But of course, I already know their sadistic ruse

I see through all their sick disgusting lies

And to acting their written script out, I greatly refuse

.

Which ones are the actors, which ones are just naive?

Is this place even real, or is it just a studio set, all fake?

Are the cameras rolling, the lights and microphones I could perceive?

And do I hear a faint “Cut!” as someone makes a mistake?

.

What? Do those bumbling fools really think that I’m that blind?

Ha! I’m the smartest human of them all!

I’m the only smart person that’s aware that you can find

To the producer’s little tricks, I will never befall

.

Can’t you see? We’re like some rats in a large maze!

A lab rat, a robot, an experiment, just a petty plaything!

We’re like brainless little humans, robots with no actual face!

We’re like mere puppets, our lives being pulled on by a string!

.

They look down at us, move us like we’re just pieces of a chess

Just little pawns to move around the board, no more, no less

But we’ll show them, we’ll show those players, expose them to the crowd

That we’re not just pawns, and they just are simply a bunch of sadistic frauds!

.

Wait, what the hell are you idiots doing? Don’t do this to me!

Don’t lock me away in that dark miserable thing!

Why are you so stupid? Why do you refuse the truth, embrace the lies?

Why do you refuse to see the most obvious thing in front of your eyes?

.

You don’t know what you’re doing! Still acting out, I see!

You fools will regret the day you ever did this to me!

You can lock me up in an asylum, or even make me die

But I still am better than any of you, at least I really did try!

.

I’ll…t-take…five..now…

.
.
.
.
.
CUT!

Hmmm…It seems that our genius figure’s finally figured it out

Is that so? Well then, master, what will happen to this show?

But don’t worry, young one, I got him all subdued now, without a doubt

What then? How come? What did you do to silence that noisy crow?

No one will believe him, of course, my obedient pets all think he’s insane

Yes! Of course! The perfect cover-up! We have prevailed once again!

But of course, dear sir, do you really think I’d let them off that easy?

Of course not, show master! Oh your clever mind works so greatly!

Off you go then. Everyone, return to their sets! Lights! Camera! Action!

Because, nosy meddler or not, the show must go on…

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